The air above the icy road shimmered, then darkened as a shadow from nowhere fell across it.
"Unh!" Mouse landed heavily, and stumbled into Wayne's bulky body. She regained her balance and looked around. "Where are we? Is this still the Game?"
"Yes," Wayne grated. "The Sorcerer must have used some sort of transport magic on us." He stretched out his uninjured foreleg and tried to push himself to his feet. "Give me a hand, here, will you?"
"Sure, Sugar," Mouse said derisively, clapping her hands.
Wayne reddened. "All right, I deserved that." He set his front legs and tried to get up, but his right front leg buckled beneath him, and he fell. The arrow in his shoulder hit the ground, and Wayne yelped.
"You Guardians just don't know when to quit, do you?" Mouse shook her head, and knelt beside Wayne. "Hold still." She put her left hand on Wayne's side, with her middle fingers on either side of the arrow shaft.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Wayne shifted, alarmed.
"What has to be done. Hold still!" Mouse commanded. She grasped the arrow in her right hand, and gave a quick yank.
Wayne yelped again, scrambling to his feet.
Mouse examined the arrow's tip. "Looks like it's all here. You're lucky it didn't break off." She rose in a move far more graceful than Wayne's wounded lunge had been.
"I don't feel very lucky," Wayne gasped, lifting his injured leg and tucking it under his body. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
"I didn't," Mouse shrugged. "I was following my instincts."
"You learn fast," Wayne observed, gulping the cold air.
"Slow learners don't last long in my business, Sugar," Mouse replied. "Can you walk?"
"Do I have a choice?" Wayne lowered his right front leg, and took a cautious step forward. He winced. "It'll hold."
"Good. Let's see where this road goes, then." Mouse started off, with Wayne limping painfully behind.
"Davic!" Bob called. He picked his way around the hole opened up by the roots of an ancient tree Davic had shoved down.
There were several crashes and a roar from up ahead.
"Davic!" Bob yelled again. He moved up to a cautious trot over the broken ground.
Glitch beeped.
"Tell Caen it'd better give him more than a headache, before he takes the entire Game apart," Bob replied.
There was a screech up ahead, followed by a blinding flash of light and an angry chattering.
Davic's voice rang over the broken trees. He was cursing.
"Well, that's a good sign," Bob commented. "At least he's calmed down enough to swear." He surveyed the trail ahead. His tail swished.
Glitch chattered sternly.
"I can make it, Glitch," Bob said as he broke into a canter. "At least, I think I can."
Glitch's beep turned into a squeal as Bob's hooves thudded in the soft dirt. Bob ignored his keytool, his eyes on the massive tree trunk blocking Davic's trail. The Guardian's front legs scraped the rough bark of the fallen giant, but he cleared the tree and pounded on.
Glitch clicked.
"Hey, I made it," Bob panted. "I thought I could." He aimed for the middle of the next fallen tree.
Davic's swearing had settled down into mere grumbles by the time Bob reached him. The ogre was seated on the banks of a small stream, with both feet submerged in the running water. He glared at Bob as he approached.
"Caen says this was your idea," Davic accused, lifting his dripping feet from the water. They both sported angry red burns.
Bob held up his hands. "All I said was that it was going to take more than a headache to get your attention."
"Huh," Davic grunted. He dunked his feet back into the stream, then reached down and hauled out a fish the length of one of Bob's legs. "It's a good thing we're friends, city sprite." He tossed the still-flopping fish into his mouth and swallowed it whole. He swallowed, then made a face. "Ugh. It's still wriggling."
"I know the feeling," Bob commented. "So, are you done with the random destruction?"
"I guess so. Unless you've got your car compressed into a pocket or something."
"Hey, it's still recovering from the last time you went joyriding. It hasn't been the same since."
"Have you tried replacing the interocitor yet?" Davic paddled his feet idly in the stream.
"To tell you the truth, I haven't had much time lately."
"That's right, you're the only Guardian in Mainframe, also known as Disaster Central." Davic snatched another fish, and scowled. "Which reminds me; what are we going to do when the Game leaves and takes Turbo with it?"
"Invoke the chain of command, I guess," Bob sighed.
"He picked a pretty rotten time to fall in love," Davic grumbled. He ate the second fish.
"You don't exactly choose to fall in love, Davic," Bob said, taking a few steps into the rushing water. "Come on. We have to find Wayne and the User."
"Yeah," Davic grunted as he rose. "Let's go do what Guardians are supposed to do."
Mouse halted, and looked around, her brow furrowed.
Wayne hobbled up, his injured leg barely touching the muddy track. The road had led them down off the mountain's icy slopes, but as the air had warmed, the road had softened, changing from bare dirt with patches of ice, to slush, to cold sucking sludge. There were clumps of mud clinging to both centaurs' legs and tails, and Wayne was visibly trembling from the cold and his injuries.
"What is it? Why did you stop?" Wayne asked wearily.
"Shh," Mouse said in a low voice, putting a hand on Wayne's arm. "Do you get the feeling we're being watched?"
"What?" Wayne swung his head around, sweeping the open slopes. "Mouse, there's no one here but us. And I for one wish we weren't here."
"Honey, I know an ambush when I feel it." Mouse unslung her bow and reached over her shoulder for an arrow.
"Well, all I feel is cold and tired." Wayne took another step forward.
The sky abruptly darkened, and the dried brown grass standing tall on either side of the road rattled as a stiff breeze gusted through it.
Wayne stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as a dark shadow formed on the road ahead.
"What is it?" Mouse shouted over the sound of the wind in the grass.
"I don't think we want to know!" Wayne answered.
The shadow solidified, taking on a recognizable shape. An enormous grey horse pawed the ground with a ghostly hoof, and its equally-grey rider lowered his lance.
Wayne took a step backward, and stumbled as his bad leg buckled under him.
The shadow-knight spurred his horse, and the animal reared, then galloped toward the two sprites in the road.
Mouse let her arrow fly, then threw her full weight against the male centaur, shoving him sideways. "I don't think that guy's gonna share the road, Sugar!" She took another lateral step, forcing Wayne to do the same.
Wayne slid down into the muddy ditch beside the road, all four hooves scrabbling for purchase without success. Mouse turned, and leaped just as the knight's charger passed, clipping her hindquarters. She landed on the far bank at an angle, and promptly slid down into the muck. Her flailing rear legs kicked Wayne's feet out from under him just as he was scrambling back up, and they both went down in a heap. Wayne yelled in pain and surprise as he fell onto his injured shoulder. There was a distinct snap. Mouse shrieked. "It's broken!"
"What's broken?"
"This!" Mouse groped in the mud, then held up what was left of her bow. "Give me yours, I'm going to get that thing." She threw away the remnants of her bow, and grabbed at Wayne's.
"But—" Wayne started. Hoofbeats sounded on the road above him, and he twisted around.
The knight's charger pranced as its rider reined it in above the filthy pair.
"Seek you the Legacy of Heroes?" the knight asked in a low, rolling voice.
"I seek your processor on a platter," Mouse snapped.
The knight ignored her. "The Way of Heroes is the Way of All," he intoned. "The Hero and the Humble wake to the same morning. One sees a golden thread and a shimmering sky, the other sees only the rocks and the dirt. Find ye the golden thread." The knight drew his sword and saluted the two of them, then dissolved into smoke, which was quickly blown away by the wind.
"What was all that mumbo-jumbo for?" Mouse demanded as she tried to wipe away the worst of the mud now clinging to her barrel.
"It must have been a form of Passive. A Game Sprite that gives the User information," Wayne answered wearily. He dragged himself to his feet.
"Honey, that thing wasn't passive. It nearly ran me down." Mouse reached back, and swung her muddy tail into her hands.
"But it didn't actually hurt either of us," Wayne replied. He shook himself, and mud spattered across Mouse's flanks. "That was obviously a clue to solving the Game."
"Any idea what it means?"
"No. There are usually several Passives in a puzzle Game; each one gives you a clue, but none of them make any sense alone." Wayne stood with his legs trembling and his head low.
Mouse's face softened, and she swiped one hand down Wayne's equine back, pushing the mud out of his coat. "Now don't take this the wrong way, honey," she murmured as she started working down Wayne's left shoulder. "I've already got a boyfriend."