The rain was coming down in sheets so thick the road seemed to vanish beneath Buttercup’s hooves. The sky was a low, dense grey. Felix hunched on the bench, his coat plastered to his shoulders, reins slick in his hands. The downpour reminded him of the “uneventful” forum at the end of summer. Ah, how glad he was to be able to wear his coat in the rain this time, but even still he felt the parts he was going to have to ask Rowan to patch up. The cold sheets of rain brought him back to that night. Losing his voice in the face of an extreme threat. Working to solve one of the puzzles… then. A memory. Anger. Shame. Fear. Despair. Helplessness and then… Darkness. The smell of the woods and the sound of rain again. Silvester and the Night Warden calling his name. He shook his head, sending water flying and forcing himself back to the present. Silvester wasn’t going to be here this time. He looked around at the horizon, what little he could see through the driving rains. Well, probably not going to be here.
Slowly over the din of the rain came a different rushing of water. Apprehension filled Felix’s mind as the fast flowing water came into view through the fog of the rain. His shoulder sunk even more seeing that the little stream he’d crossed a few days prior was a roaring torrent. He glanced back over his shoulder, the Cargo was almost all paper, books, inks, and quills supplies requested specifically by Madam Leonora for herself and her Ladyship. Apparently there’s a lot of letter writing in our future. This isn’t the sort of cargo he can let get washed downstream, nor can he politely wait a few days for the weather to clear up.
He looked ahead at the flow of water and started to plan his way past it. Pulling the wagon to a halt and looking up and down the flooding stream he couldn’t see an obvious alternate route, this was always the most shallow part on the route anyway. He considered if they just try to push through it and looked to the horse. Buttercup gave him the usual cold stare. Felix sighed and got out of the wagon “yeah, I didn’t think you’d want to either.”
Taking a long stick and carefully probing where the road used to be, he determined that it was only about waist deep at the worst. There was no way the full wagon was going to make it across though. That meant only one thing. Felix frowned at the thought, but resolved himself. This was for her ladyship.
Hauling each crate across the flooded stream one at a time, he never let a single one into the flow, but he couldn’t say the same for himself. Trying not to think too much about how well most of these goods would burn and make him a wonderful, warm fire, he moved each one to the far side. Dripping his way back onto the bench. He reassured Buttercup. “See? No problem. Now just get this thing across and we’ll be that much closer to some dry hay.”
Driving the wagon to the water’s edge and getting Buttercup moving, he jumped back down and kept the wagon stable from behind. Buttercup was no slouch, and it was actually the easiest crossing yet. Back on “Dry” land on the far side, and other than being chilled to the bone and exhausted, the cargo, wagon, and horse were all no worse for wear. After loading the crates back into the wagon’s bed, he was able to climb back onto the bench and set off for the Fort. Trying to will himself to warmness, he wondered if Rhyme had a spell to dry out your clothes, or if the Court Magus could cause the rain to fall off you like it does a duck. Maybe he just needed an actual cloak…
—-
Hours later, having handed off the wagon to unload to a few porters, Felix wearily made his way back to the bunks. Arriving there, Gilbert was shocked at the state he was in.
“Benalus’ Boots, Felix!” Gilbert swore as he helped him peel his coat off “What are you doing out in a rainstorm like this?”
“Making myself useful,” he replied, wringing his hat out like an old washcloth, “That’s how things get done.”
