Apocalypse: Fairy System Macronomicon (a book to read txt) 📖

effect that negates the adverse effect of constant travel on my mind, body, and equipment.’”

“So the road feels like a relaxing cruise?”

“Basically.” The keegan shrugged. “When I set out, I was just like them. I wanted the levels to take over my dad’s smithy, but after I got a taste of the road…I guess I got wanderlust. Don’t worry about my dad’s smithy, I got seven brothers.”

“How about you? You ever get a Class?” All eyes turned to Jeb.

“Oh sure, it’s Mystic Trapsmith,” Jeb said with a shrug. “Going through the Tutorial, I wasn’t really concerned about picking what I wanted to do for a living, just living. You know what I mean?”

“Sucks,” one of the girls said.

“What’s it do?” a melas guard asked, perking up.

“A Mystic Trapsmith has something called Myst Triggers,” Jeb said. “For example, if I wanted to make a trap that would squeeze the trigger on this gun, all I would have to do would be to make a Myst Trigger and specify an event and a response. When the event happens, the response is that my Myst squeezes this trigger,” Jeb said, pointing at his pistol.

“Your Class lets you pull triggers on guns?”

“No, you can have it do pretty much anything you could normally do with Myst, but it has to be predetermined; the Trigger can’t think.”

“What kinds of events?” a keegan girl asked, cocking her head.

Jeb sighed. This is going to be a long night.

He was about an hour into explaining the concept of a chain of if/then logic, when the older guard shot to his feet, staring off into the distance.

“Keensha bra gosh!” the rail-thin keegan growled, an expletive The System was too polite to translate. “Sand-pirates! They’ve seen the funeral smoke! I told those fat fiery bastards this might happen! Everyone! Unless you’ve got rich parents or a boatload of money, I suggest hiding.”

There was a general cry of dismay among the college kids as they leapt to their feet, scrambling this way and that while their leader unsheathed his sword.

Way to inspire confidence.

Heart hammering, Jeb came to his feet and peered out into the distance. He could make out a tiny puff of sand in the distance, kicked up by something that was rapidly approaching.

“How much time do we have?” Jeb asked.

“Fifteen minutes, perhaps,” the keegan said. “Then they will kill all the male guards, sell or ransom the female guards, steal a large portion of the cargo, and let the caravaneers go unharmed.”

“Unharmed?” Jeb asked as that last phrase landed in his mind.

“Why fleece a breek only once?”

“Ah.”

The keegan glanced over at Jeb’s Jeep. “Your wagon moves fast enough to outrun them, if you wish. I’ve seen you take it off the road.”

Jeb glanced at his Jeep. “We’ll call that Plan B. In the meantime, I don’t want to leave you in the lurch. I’ve got an idea for how to get rid of them, and it shouldn’t take longer than a couple minutes.”

“That would be appreciated, Mr. Trapper.”

Jeb broke into a sprint, aiming for his car. He jumped over the door, landing in the open top and began searching through the backseat for his backpack…where Smartass had turned the foot space into a swimming pool.

“It’s sooo hot out here,” she groaned, splashing her feet in the water, likely summoned from Jeb’s smooth river rock. “I had to plug up a few holes with the clay lens, but I made the perfect place to cool off. C’mon, dip your toes.”

“Goddamnit Smartass, there’s rustables in here, and those holes are ventilation!” Jeb said, yanking the backpack out of the water and rummaging through until he came out with the fireball wand, still looking like a german pistol from the forties.

“You try to do something nice for people,” Smartass said, shaking her head as Jeb jumped back out, pegleg clacking on the ground as he landed.

He’d hidden the Myst engine under the frame of the car with a strong hide-a-key magnet, as Jeb was fairly sure it was contraband.

The glass tube was gritty and wet.

I am so kicking her ass when this is over, Jeb thought, watching the dust clouds grow larger as he carefully, carefully cleaned and dried the Myst engine.

Jeb was able to see the distant figures well enough to make out individual bodies by the time he finished cleaning the engine. They were mostly beefy melas, ranging from orange to an almost reddish color. The one in the lead had some pretty epic horns, visible even from this distance.

They were riding a large flat ship that skimmed across the surface of the rocky desert, navigating the rocks seemingly without issue. Jeb wasn’t sure if it was decorative or an engine of some sort, but he spotted jets of flame shooting out either side of the boat, perhaps acting as propellant.

Man, I hope this works, Jeb thought, blowing imaginary dust out of the wand. He opened the panel and clicked the engine into place, making absolutely sure the fiber optics made contact and there was no grit between them and the engine.

Once Jeb was done, he rolled up a scrap of cloth and shoved it in his ear, covering the other with his palm.

“You might wanna cover your ears!” Jeb shouted, holding the wand above his head.

“What’s that supposed to—”

BOOM!

A gigantic flower of bright flaming explosion appeared above them, the impact rattling their bones and setting off a few of the honking car alarms.

Inspired, Jeb adjusted the range and pulled the trigger again, exploding the air above a dense patch of cars.

Any car that still had battery left immediately began crying bloody murder, assuming someone was trying to break into it.

“Gods!” the lead guard shouted, slapping his palms over his ears.

Now that everyone was sufficiently spooked, Jeb