Scud. I glanced to Chet with thanks, and he pointed to the side. We scrambled that direction, rounding the hole, and reached the far edge of the fragment.
Here the ground was bunched up, the earth piled in an enormous furrow. “Get that light-line off me and attach it somewhere up above!” I shouted to M-Bot.
He zipped up to the top and attached the line, then returned trailing the red-orange rope. I looked to Chet, who nodded, grabbing the light-line. “Just like climbing to the top of Mount Rigby!” he said. “Highest point on the fragments!” He glanced at the bunched-up soil. “Only perhaps more squishy!”
“Less heroic explorer talk!” I shouted. “More climbing!”
As if to punctuate my words, a vast section of the ground behind us fell away.
“Point taken,” Chet said, then began ascending the high furrow of trembling soil. His feet sank in, making it an obvious struggle. Fortunately, there were chunks of stone to use as footholds; he proved his skill in climbing as he located them.
I followed him up, and my lighter weight was an advantage. When I’d been younger I’d imagined growing to Amazonian heights to become a fierce swordswoman—and then I’d run out of centimeters. Instead I’d taken to imagining myself as so small that giants underestimated me, so I could therefore scamper up their backs and stab them in the ears.
There weren’t many giants to slay, but I got mileage out of my size today as I limberly scrambled up the mound of dirt, barely needing the light-line. Then I helped pull Chet out of a mire—it was tough with the dirt sliding around us. But together we managed to reach the top.
M-Bot hovered up from below. Worn out and filthy, the three of us stumbled up to a high point on the new fragment. It looked like a blasted-out landscape, ashen and cracked—but it was solid.
The fragment we’d left was in utter turmoil. Little patches of grass peeked through the churning dirt—like sections of unburned skin on the face of a pilot who had died in a crash. Those were quickly vanishing as our current fragment pushed forward. Dirt fell away in vast swaths, with chunks of acclivity stone drifting off to the sides.
In minutes, the entire fragment was gone save for some chunks of dirt stuck to the front where we stood.
“I would not believe this if I hadn’t witnessed it firsthand,” Chet whispered. “Miss Nightshade, I’ve never seen such an event.”
“Fragments don’t often collide?” I asked.
“On occasion, they bump at speed,” he said, “but I’ve never experienced anything more fearsome than a short jolt.” He put his hand to his head. “It’s as if the nowhere itself is trying to kill us.”
Great. Jumping into a dimension literally controlled by beings that hated me might not have been my smartest decision ever. Then again, I had genuinely needed to see that vision at the portal. So…yeah. Frying pans, fires, all that. As long as there was some warmth and I could roast some rats.
“I feel bad about the portal,” I said. “Those memories, lost…”
“All memories are lost eventually,” Chet said. “I agree this is a tragedy—but I prefer to keep my head high.” He dusted off his trousers, shook some dirt from his jacket, then smiled at me. “Think of it this way. We survived again, and we began the Path. I shall count it as a grand victory!”
“We need to get farther into pirate territory to get to the next stop though.”
“Indeed,” he said, pointing. “That direction.” Our current fragment floated perpendicular to that, so I supposed it could be worse. “We’d have to cross dozens upon dozens of fragments, however, to reach those ruins on foot.”
“So…” I said. “Time to restart Operation Ship-Steal?”
He smiled, turning and pointing a slightly different direction. “The Broadsider home base is perhaps two days’ travel. I shall need a short time, Miss Nightshade, to use my powers and devise a path forward. We may not be able to go directly; it will depend on the timing of the intersection of the fragments.”
“Let’s hope,” I said, “that no more of them intersect as violently as this one.”
While Chet sat to figure out the route, M-Bot and I went to do a little scouting. This newest fragment was the most normal of the ones I’d been on. No strange grasses, no towering trees. Not even dirt. Just good, sturdy rock. It was darker than the stone on Detritus, and was cracked like it had been through a furnace, but the way it scraped underfoot reminded me of home.