“Any sightings?” Aera peered into her looking glass, scanning the distant hills, searching for flashes of sunlight across metal.

There! “Approximately five miles out to the northwest. Judging by the light show, they are moving away from us.” She collapsed the looking glass and pocketed it. “They are unpredictable. We should move this along.”

“Agreed.” Aera studied her companion. He'd not given her a name, only a mission, half the payment ahead of time, and a dire warning. They must not be seen. His clothing was exceptionally fine with hints of layered color. His clothing gave him the air of a noble, with enough pockets to be a traveling merchant. She didn't quite know what to make of him.

Since they were traveling through the Clatterdowns, she'd put together a traditional wagon with a false floor, armored siding and a large mirror for signaling to distant pilots.

“You're sure you require my presence for this?”

“While I can handle most of the problems we are likely to encounter without you, there's one that I cannot counter. Perception," she steadied her voice, "Women in this region don't travel alone.”

He frowned at this. “I've never known the mech jockeys to pester travelers. They may occasionally run one or two over,” he almost smiled while saying that, “it's not their way to assail travelers.”

“It's not them we need to worry about. They," she emphasized the word, "raided two nearby settlements last summer.” It was bad luck to say their name openly. Many felt merely saying their name would summon their presence.

“Ah. I see.” He shifted, checking his pockets, seeming to take a mental catalogue of their contents. “Do we have a lead box by chance?” 

Her blood ran cold. She shook her head. Aera knew what he was asking. It was impossible to detect magical items through lead. “No. I brought along a very minor enchanted ring for them to find.”

“Let's hope none of those are nearby."

She reached for the flare gun at her belt.

“No,” he replied sadly, “ we cannot call for aid.” He fumbled into one of his shirt pocket, removing a small metal item and handed it to her. “To my employer, this is everything. For them, it is nothing but a profane item. They will destroy it as quickly as they can. The Machinists,” he paused, “they will not react well if they discover we have this."

Aera handed it back to him. "Why show me this?"

He didn't answer her. “Tell me child, do you have any latent arcane potential?”

“No.”

“So certain.”

“My village was one of…”

“Ah.” For the first time since she met him, a human emotion passed across his face. Empathy. “I see.” He rummaged around in another pocket, withdrawing a coin. “If we get separated, seek Aethermar, go to The Will and the Word, speak with the owner and show him this coin. He can help."

“Magic?” Aera examined the coin. Smooth, but for a few ridges in the middle.

“Not the kind they care for.”

She pocketed the coin, then looked over to him. “What of the object you showed me?"

"If they accost us, do not try to interfere. Allow them to take it, to take me if they must," his expression grew sad. "You've proven yourself to be of no value to them. That coin will allow others to locate me, perhaps even rescue me."

Aera nodded, feeling the immense pressure in the air. The expectation of the next few hours. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."