Chapter 14

She thought she might be dreaming again. She was so cold, and a roaring in her ears made her want to cover them. She yearned for Erend to warm her once more, but he never showed. Carefully, she squinted her eyes open. The land beneath her rolled out like an intricate rug, the sun just peeking over the horizon, making her eyes water. Or perhaps it was the cutting, freezing wind that licked her moist face and took her breath away. She was flying.

Rather, the Stormbird was flying. She froze as she looked up at the beast, sure one of its talons had pierced her through and she hadn't succumbed to death just yet. She took a mental tally of her state: bruised and battered, cold and painful, but whole. She could move only a small bit, enough to wriggle a hand free to grip its leg. Her other hand still held Erend's bow, crushed to her body with the Stormbird's grip. Why hadn't it killed her? Where was it going?

She got her answer soon enough. Rising up over the valley, orange and red streaked sandstone piled high in a jutting mountain. She recognized it after a moment… able to place herself about three days hike north from Meridian. The Stormbird seemed headed for an outcropping so high off the ground, she doubted anyone would see it from the dirt. It was taking her there to feast, she was sure. How odd.

She looked down, gauging her chances as the bird swirling upwards, using the updrafts created by the terrain. They weren't good. She noticed its left wing was still not working: the thruster there sputtered occasionally, but the bird flew with a tilt. It just barely gained the outcropping before flinging her to the ground. The bow scattered away, but she didn't dare cry out in pain as she landed. Quickly, she clambered away, sure her release was a mistake.

The outcropping was nearly bare, but went deep into the sandstone. Piles of sticks and debris surrounded her. Some of the sticks were actually bones, she noticed. Bones and machine parts, all former Stormbird kills. She went for the nearest pile, ducking behind it, panting for breath as she awaited her fate.

Nothing.

Her heart in her throat and her eyes as wide as they could possibly get, Aloy peered around the debris. The Stormbird perched there as if it'd forgotten she existed. Its damaged wing remained unfolded, sparks flying from where the rocket had grounded it. It stared out across the landscape, unmoving. Its lights blazed blue, not the orange Aloy had expected.

Aloy ground her teeth. There was no way she was getting down from that outcropping, not unless it was on that machine. But she would have to find some way to get it to do what she wanted without murdering her. And if it saw her as no different than the Oseram that bound it, Aloy knew there wasn't much chance of that.

Her hand closed around a rock. She steeled herself before chucking it to the other side of the outcropping, where it knocked loudly against the side of the mountain before rolling off the edge, into oblivion. The Stormbird did not move.

She whistled, loudly. Still nothing. Far off, a Glinthawk crowed, but otherwise only the sound of the wind replied.

Great, Aloy grumbled to herself, carefully unfolding from her crouch. She stood, moving slowly to retrieve Erend's bow, her eyes on the machine the whole time.

For a long time she stood, bow in hand, waiting to be noticed and rent asunder. The damaged thruster hissed and spat sparks, making her jump. Frustrated, she yelled, "What am I supposed to do about it!? I only know how to take machines like you apart!"

Unsurprisingly, she didn't get a response. With a huff of frustration, she turned to the scattered debris behind her. Perhaps she could fashion some sort of climbing gear, though without the full use of her leg, she doubted she'd get far. She had to try.

Something caught her eye. Among the bones sat something altogether different, something she recognized instantly.

It was a focus.

She couldn't help but move carefully in the Stormbird's presence, but there was never a more satisfied cry of hope than when she scooped up the instrument and placed it against her head. It chirped reassuringly.

Aloy let out a whoop before realizing that something was very, very different with this focus. The gridwork was green, not purple, and it pinged constantly, seeming to point out the most random of parts in the piles around her, a lengthy description of each printing out before her eyes. For a moment her senses were overcome with information and she whipped around, trying to take everything in.

The Focus beeped with alarm when she sighted the Stormbird. It still hadn't moved, and a green glow surrounded its wing. Right where it'd been hit, she noticed, a little shocked.

Carefully, she advanced. It wasn't tame, it couldn't be. Even tamed machines moved. It looked… almost powered down. Not dead. The closer she got, the more details were displayed about the Stormbird's wing. The current thruster output, the fail-safes in place, the error reports. She reached out, touching the damaged thruster, but could see nothing to do for it.

Her Focus chimed, and she followed another indicator. There, a cable had wrapped around the housing of what her Focus told her was a chillwater filter, and seemed to indicate that it was the source of the malfunction. With a mighty heave, Aloy released the tangle of broken cable, wincing at the screech of metal on metal. She heard a hiss as the chillwater began to accelerate once more through the machine, pumping into overheated reservoirs and regulating the Stormbird's system once more. Several beeps were heard, and the Focus pinged in unison, confirming the machine's repair. Slowly, the Stormbird folded its wing and began to move in natural, passive ways, ignoring her as it shuffled across the outcropping and focused its optics on various points of the landscape.

"What is this," Aloy murmured, cupping her hand over the Focus. "Some sort of… repair assistant?" She looked around more. Every part in the alcove had use: and she could see each rendition of the greater whole it used to be. She learned she could narrow down her field of vision somewhat, feeling a little less overwhelmed, but not less excited. She looked at Erend's bow: it pointed out a weak point, suggesting a reinforcement made from the pieces around her.

"This… is… awesome!" The huntress breathed as she rummaged, fitting the metal just as her Focus instructed, using other pieces as any tool she needed. She found the remnants of something that looked like Petra's cannon, only much leaner. Only a few parts were missing. An information tree expanded before her, showing what she could use instead. "Oh, this is just cheating," she gloated with bliss as she went to work.

She had no idea how long she was arms deep in debris, piecing together remnants of things from the days of the Old Ones. She had no idea how any of the items got up there, only that perhaps the Stormbird was a bit of a packrat. The machine itself continued to rest at the edge of the outcrop, never bothering her, but instead watching her curiously as she rummaged through its things.

When she realized how much her leg ached was when she noticed the sun was once more setting. If Erend and Petra were okay, they had to be worried about her. She imagined Erend's face, wanting to see it light up the way it always did when he caught sight of her. Wait until he sees what you did to his bow, she thought to herself. Wait till he sees my gun.

But first, she'd have to get down. Stretching, she moved to stand. Her leg was all pins and needles, and she scowled down at it. Instantly, her focus pinged to life, identifying her break. Through it, she saw where the bone had begun to knit together improperly, and that a fragment was keeping it from healing entirely. "No kidding," the huntress murmured, frustrated.

The Focus whooped, drawing her attention to something in the corner of the outcropping. Curious, she lifted the large case, hefting it over towards the middle of the space to open it. Everything inside was shiny and gleaming with glass and metal. She frowned, trying to make sense of it. Her focus told her one thing was to restart hearts, another was to insert medicines into the bloodstream. It wanted her to open a package, and she tore open the paper to find long bands of very thin metal. She recognized it… they were similar to the odd blue lights Sylens had running through his skin. She thought they were ornamental.

Following instruction, Aloy bared her leg, carefully applying the metal strips to her skin. Somehow, they held fast, though they never stuck to her fingers. There was a very specific way to arrange the strips, and if she went to place one out of line, her focus beeped and flushed red. Every time she applied a strip, it connected with another until she had an entire network from her knee to her ankle. When the last strip was pressed against her, the maze of metal began to glow with a soft blue light. Warmth flooded her bones and she sighed with relief. There was no pain.

Her focus pinged green, confirming the repairs were complete.