Penny waited for 2.5 hours after lights-out before she checked.

She'd been watching her teammates for many weeks now, and was starting to have an idea of when they were truly asleep. As she swapped to infrared and looked over their silent forms one by one, she compared them to stored data. Each of them appeared to be asleep. As usual, Weiss was the heaviest sleeper in the team, while Blake had heart and breathing rates very close to her norms… but still depressed enough to suggest unconsciousness.

Was suggestion enough? No, Penny was running too much risk, she needed more certainty. She waited another half an hour and checked again.

Everything was the same, aside from Yang having turned over twice in the interim. Penny couldn't expect better. As silently as possible, she got out of bed and made for the door.

She was the only person out and about on Beacon's campus that night. All was still. Good. She made her way to Tower Four without being seen that she could tell.

The entrance procedures were the same as before; Penny wouldn't let herself forget them. Key to enter the tower, into the elevator, passcode to open the security panel, physical key plus digital key to access lift control, different passcode at the top. And check, check, check every one of those systems for any signs of tampering or monitoring along the way.

Penny's room was exactly the same as before, with the exception of a thin coat of mundane dust covering every surface. The only reason there wasn't more dust was because no one had been in here to generate it. Not even Penny, to her fault.

She'd been neglecting her periodic maintenance. Log files had informed her that she needed to return to Turchina to have maintenance done at least monthly. She'd put this off to avoid jeopardizing her secret. It wasn't until Tactical started raising alarms about degraded performance that Penny finally accepted this necessity. Being unable to perform in combat would render her secret rather moot.

That, and one of her fingers had grown slower and slower to respond. Weiss had been less than understanding about that particular finger sticking in that particular position.

Penny wondered if there was a face tattoo that was just a blush.

She approached Turchina and pulled up its programs. She was wholly unsurprised to see a monthly maintenance program waiting for her. She noted the existence of quarterly, semiannual, annual, and "as required" programs as well. Whomever had made this had thought far further into the future than Penny ever had. As with Professor Mesquite, other people had the luxury of thinking about what things would be like years later; Penny maxed out her processors thinking ahead to tomorrow.

Turchina reported it would take 3.45 hours to complete the program. Penny worried that staying so long was pushing her luck; it would mean getting back to her room less than an hour before wake-up. While her teammates generally didn't wake up before that, they might; Yang sometimes did. Penny's absence might be noticed.

But was pushing through tonight riskier than going back to her room and repeating this process on another night? Tactical didn't think so, and higher consciousness concurred. With reluctance, Penny initiated the program.

It had only been running for fifteen minutes when Penny's scroll buzzed. She checked it with rising apprehension.

U ok?

Yang.

Penny's insides felt like they'd been torqued too tightly. Yang slept fitfully, she remembered, waking up at random all through the night. And she did that because someone she cared about had disappeared during the night while she slept.

Like Penny had just disappeared on her.

Penny could model Yang's panic and confusion. She had to save Yang from those feelings.

I am fine, she replied hastily. It wouldn't be enough, she knew. She thought hard about how to respond. Jiminy fought her every step of the way, reminding her that even a well-intentioned lie was still a lie. Penny typed her response through hiccups so violent they made her fingers jerk to the wrong letters; she had to revise the message several times.

I found myself unable to sleep, so I went out to see if I could reset myself. I'll be back later in the morning.

It was all true enough, she thought.

Thesaurus dredged up the phrase "sitting on pins and needles". Penny had a hard time imagining exactly what that would feel like, seeing as she would crush any pins or needles beneath her weight, but now she could associate the idiom with how she felt. The literal meaning was a bust, but the figurative meaning was clear as it could be.

After almost a full minute, her scroll buzzed again, and Penny looked frantically at what came across.

k

It was an underwhelming response, but the more Penny thought about it the more she found it comforting. If Yang had typed up anything more elaborate, it would imply that she was awake enough to do so. This bare minimum response likely correlated to a bare minimum of consciousness, which meant Yang would be getting back to sleep shortly. That was all Penny could hope for.

With any luck, Yang wouldn't remember this exchange well enough for it to come up again. This was the sort of thing that could pull Penny's secret into the open.

The thought made Penny's guilt intensify. One deception stacked on another. Where would it end?

She hadn't intended to go this long without telling her team her secret. Shortsightedness again. She'd made that decision at twelve days of awareness, and she'd been living with the consequences for four times as long now.

She kept telling herself that she'd divulge when she was ready, when her bond with her team was strong enough to withstand the blow, but how could she tell when those criteria were met? How could she measure such things?

She didn't know. Trust was unquantifiable; no subroutine had the means to measure it. Rather than tackle this dilemma, she was avoiding it… for all the good that was doing her.

Turchina informed her that she needed to power down for the next part of the maintenance. How appropriate. Even self-care was just a way to avoid addressing her actual problems.

With a sigh, Penny turned out her lights.

Yang didn't mention Penny's midnight sojourn. Small blessings.

Penny's melancholy must have been visible, because throughout the morning several members of BXPS and JNPR asked her if she was okay. Jiminy wouldn't let her say yes. Her mood was not improved when they all went to lunch together and she returned to the dorm.

Alone.

She was starting to appreciate why projecting into the future was so difficult. People were confusing, so modeling their behavior had to include multitudinous possibilities for the next odd thing they might do. The more possibilities, the more branch scenarios, which themselves generated more possibilities for what came after that, increasing exponentially with every decision point or increment of time. It didn't take long for her to reach a point where the possibilities exceeded any computer's ability to track them, let alone use them.

That was the value of trust, she realized. Suppose she could assume that her teammates would accept her upon her unveiling. That assumption, by itself, cut down a swathe of possible futures (and second- and third-order effects) which she then wouldn't have to model.

Being unable to make that assumption in all cases was mentally crippling.

She was dwelling on this subject when there was a knock on Team BXPS' door. It was the first time that'd ever happened during mealtime, so Penny struggled to imagine who it might be. The only visitors they typically had in their dorm were members of Team JNPR.

Penny tried to squash the ugly feeling that rose within her at the thought.

Opening the door, she realized that the pattern still held, because there was Jaune.

"Hey," he said. "Are you up to anything?"

"No," said Penny truthfully. Without her team around, there was little for her to do except wait for them to return.

"You have a moment?" said Jaune.

"Certainly," said Penny. "Come on in."

Jaune walked in and took a seat in the chair at the desk. Penny retreated to her bed and sat facing him. She felt anticipation: whatever had brought Jaune here was something new, and the visit itself was unprecedented, so there must be something very interesting driving it all.

Except Jaune seemed in no hurry to say anything.

"Aren't you normally eating with our teams about now?" she asked just to fill the void.

"I wasn't hungry," said Jaune. Penny wasn't sure she believed that excuse, but there was no way she could say that without it sounding like an accusation, and she was in no position to chide others about mealtime absenteeism.

"It's just that you might be the only person I can talk to," said Jaune, the words bursting from him. "You're the only person who's as much of a misfit as me."

Penny rallied to his defense instantly. "You're not a misfit, you are my friend."

"That's kind of what I'm saying," said Jaune with an unhappy smile (a paradox Thesaurus struggled with). "I think part of the reason we get along so well is… it feels like neither of us belongs here."

Had Penny made a mistake? She must have made a mistake. Better freeze to not make another one.

Jaune rambled on. "Look at our teammates. They know all these things that we just don't know, and they get along with each other so well. Like, we all work out, except Nora and Yang have bonded over weightlifting and strength training, and they talk all the time about workout routines and stuff. And Blake and Ren have this tea thing going. When Blake found out Ren has an old Mistrali tea set, they bonded over that and now they have tea twice a week. I don't think Ren has said as much to me total as he's said to Blake about tea.

"And then there's Pyrrha and Weiss. Weiss keeps asking Pyrrha to study with her even though Weiss' grades are great, and I know she studies with you. Twice she tried to get Pyrrha to go down to Vale with her to go clothes shopping. She even offered to pay, except Pyrrha is actually low-key pretty rich, and she just held Weiss at arm's length. Gosh, if Weiss paid me a third of the attention that she pays Pyrrha…"

Penny could say nothing. She'd noticed everything that Jaune was saying. It wasn't right for her to begrudge her teammates these bonds. These dynamics made her teammates happy, and how could Penny be against that?

And yet part of her—a small, insidious part of her—worried that time spent with others was necessarily time not spent with Penny. If making schedules with Weiss had taught her anything, it was that time was zero sum.

Worse, Penny couldn't spend the same time with JNPR as she did with BXPS. It wasn't safe. Nora had electricity powers, Ren was unreadable in disturbing ways, and Weiss' territoriality about Pyrrha was obvious. The closer BX_S got to JNPR, the further they got from Penny.

Those thoughts were all too selfish.

No. Penny didn't want her friends to be sad. She didn't want them to give up things that made them happy for her comfort. She'd be fine. Fine! Totally fine.

"It just feels like I'm the only outsider," said Jaune. "Everyone else was raised in Huntsman circles, everyone else came in already a pro with their weapons and gear, and I'm…"

"…Jaune," Penny finished.

"Yeah." His head drooped.

"I promise you that you are not the only outsider," said Penny.

"Thanks, but it's different for you," said Jaune. "You can fall back on being awesome. I'm…"

"…not," said Penny.

Jaune looked up at her.

"You are at the bottom of the class in Combat, Aura, and Armaments," said Penny. "I don't know your grades in our writing-heavy classes, but your responses in History have not shown a grasp of that subject matter, either."

"You too, Penny?" said Jaune. His hands clenched. "Well, I guess I came to the wrong place for sympathy."

"I wasn't trying to criticize you," Penny said, growing distressed. "Those are simply the facts of the matter. But you are my friend no matter how poorly you do in class!"

His head drooped again, but at least he didn't look angry. "Well, that counts for something, I guess."

"It should," Penny said. "I know I do not always speak or act like…" humans flashed through her head; no, Thesaurus, do your job! "…other people, but you have never treated me with anything but respect and kindness. I cherish that."

"That's nothing special," said Jaune, sounding confused. "That's just common courtesy."

"Despite its name," Penny said, "I have discovered that 'common courtesy' is sadly rare. You still offering it matters to me."

"Well, you know what they say," said Jaune. "Nice guys finish last."

His voice was light, but his expression contradicted it. Penny didn't think he was joking. Knowing what he wasn't didn't tell her what he was.

Friend behavior would be to make him feel better, and Penny had failed at that so far. Analysis offered up a new line of discussion; higher consciousness accepted it.

Penny wished upon a star every night. She knew the value of hope. Maybe she could give him some.

"Just because you are the low performer now doesn't mean you always will be."

He blinked in surprise.

"You can improve," Penny said. "You haven't improved much so far, but I believe that you can."

"That's nice of you to say," said Jaune, but his expression didn't improve.

"Pyrrha believes it, too," said Penny.

That got his attention. "You think so?"

Penny frowned. "Have you not noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

"I've seen Pyrrha offer you assistance with schoolwork and practicals on seventeen different occasions," Penny said. "Given that she spends much more time away from me than near me, I must assume she's offered dozens more times I haven't seen."

Jaune frowned. "I mean… I guess once or twice…"

Oh, good. Penny had been growing concerned about Jaune's powers of observation.

"But I'm her leader," said Jaune. "I'm supposed to be the best, I'm supposed to, you know, have the respect of my followers. How can I let her be the one carrying me? I don't want her to be the one carrying me!"

"Why not?" said Penny, totally confused. Why would someone not want help?

"I've got to be able to do this," he said, standing up and growing agitated. "I'm supposed to be the hero, like my grandfather, and his father, and… and if I can't even lead my team, if I can't be the best one of them… what even am I?"

"Your idea of leadership doesn't match what I've seen," said Penny.

Jaune went still. "What do you mean?"

"Professor Ozpin doesn't try to do anything himself that I've seen," said Penny. "He relies heavily on Professor Goodwitch and his support staff. I don't know much about leadership, but I can't believe it means doing everything yourself.

"It's a matter of optimization," Penny said, feeling more confident as she talked through it. "Blake might be the worst on our team at creating schedules, so she has Weiss and I make the team schedule. She will never be the best in our team at Math, so she asks me for help with Math. But her knowledge of History is outstanding and often has different emphases and viewpoints from what we learn elsewhere, so we defer to her on History.

"We all do the things we're best at, and we help the others at those things. Division of labor is very powerful." The person who had specialized subroutines for different tasks knew this intimately. "Weiss making our schedule doesn't make Blake a worse leader, it makes the team better. And isn't team success what a leader strives for?"

"Well, yeah," said Jaune, frowning deeper than ever.

"If that's true," said Penny, "and there are places where the team leader needs to improve, then it's the leader's obligation to get help, isn't it?"

"I guess… if I don't lean on how good Pyrrha is…"

"…it would be inefficient," said Penny. "I wish I could spar with Pyrrha more. I can only imagine how much I would learn if I did! I don't have that opportunity, but you do. You're lucky, she would train you at any time if you just asked her."

"You think so?" said Jaune.

"I know so," said Penny. "You might be the only person she'd do that for. It's your fastest path to improvement."

"Oh, no!" said Jaune, putting a hand over his heart. "I bet… by blowing her off, I bet I hurt her feelings! She probably thinks I don't trust her to teach me, or something like that!"

It was an insight Penny never would have gleaned. She beamed at Jaune. "That sort of empathy is your best quality," she said.

He ran his hands through his hair. "Okay, I've gotta make that right. I've gotta… gotta do right by Pyrrha."

"She would appreciate that, I think," Penny said.

For the first time since entering the room, Jaune brightened. "Well, this conversation really helped me. I think I know what to do now, and that feels much better." He gave her a winning smile. "You're a good friend, Penny."

She gasped. "Am I really?"

"Yeah, sure," said Jaune as if it were no big deal. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

Penny placed a hand over her core. "It means so much to me to hear you say that. I want to be a good friend to people. I… I honestly don't know what else to do with myself, other than that."

"What do you mean? You could graduate Beacon as a Huntress, no problem. The way you fight and with your grades, you might even graduate early!" Jaune frowned. "Do they do early graduations here?"

"I don't know," said Penny, "and I wouldn't take it even if they do. I'm here to learn different things from you, Friend Jaune. You are here to learn about the grimm and fighting and weapons, but I am here to learn about people and my place among them."

She looked down at her hands. "There are times when I worry about the grade I would get in that class, if it were a class."

"Penny," said Jaune, "you've got nothing to worry about. Trust me. You are, like, the nicest person I've ever met."

"That is very kind of you to say," said Penny, "but niceness is not the same thing as friend-making ability. I am learning that that is a skill, and I don't know how much of it I have."

"You've got way more of it than most people," said Jaune. "But even if you don't believe me, well, if it's a skill, it's something you can learn, isn't it? If I can learn to fight, you can learn about friends."

"That is a lovely parallel," said Penny.

"Besides," said Jaune, "it seems like you have a bunch of friends already. Yang is on your side one thousand percent, Blake actually makes eye contact with you, and Weiss gives you the time of day. You're way ahead of everyone else in all of that. And even if you weren't," he added more nervously, "well, I'll always be your friend."

Always.

"You mean it?"

Jaune hesitated for only a moment. "Yeah," he said. "An Arc never goes back on his word."

Penny couldn't help herself. She wrapped Jaune in a hug that used about 50% of her total strength. "I am so happy to hear that, thank you so very much!"

"…you're… welcome," Jaune squeaked, and his Aura began to shimmer.

Penny released him. "I am so glad that we are the sorts of friends who can share things with each other."

"Share things," said Jaune, a hand going to the back of his head. "Right. We do that."

Penny felt a surge of regret at those words, because she was very much not sharing her secret with Jaune. Maybe she could. Maybe she should.

"I really should go talk to Pyrrha now," said Jaune.

"Good luck," said Penny.

"Thanks," said Jaune, and he left the room. Penny was on her own once more, but she was feeling much better. She might never get all the friends she wanted, and she might never have as deep friendships with her other teammates as she desired, but she'd keep working at it. If she could get there with Jaune, there was hope for the others yet.

Her spirits lifted, Penny started playing some heavy metal on her scroll as she got down to planning.

Because it was time for some Friendship Things.

"What are we doing out here, again?"

"I already told you," said Blake tiredly. "Penny wanted to meet us at the cliffs. She has something special planned for us."

"'Something'," said Weiss. "But you know what she has in mind."

"I do," said Blake, "but she wanted it to be a surprise for you two."

"I hate surprises," said Weiss.

"Why am I not… surprised?" said Yang.

"You're not even trying," Weiss said scornfully.

"It's nothing bad, promise," said Blake. "It wasn't my first idea of a good time, but it could be fun, and Penny really wanted it, so… maybe give it a chance?"

"Wow," said Weiss, "what a ringing endorsement."

"Look, I already agreed that we would do it," said Blake. "Try having a little faith in your leader."

Weiss stifled her first response, visibly recalibrated, and said, "Very well. I'll try it."

"See?" said Yang. "Was that so hard?"

"We're still headed for the cliffs, I can and will throw you off."

"Landing strategy, nyeh-nyeh!"

"You are a toddler in a barbarian's body."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said about me."

"It wasn't a compliment!"

Blake shook her head as the two continued to bicker. Just like that, Weiss had lifted her resistance, or at least papered over it. Blake was impressed despite herself. She'd become so used to obstinance, so used to people being committed to one line of thinking and unable or unwilling to tolerate anything else. Reasoned argument had failed her so many times she'd begun to doubt its value. It had proved easier to run away from the argument, to disengage from it, than it had been to win it.

Here, at last, was someone who seemed pliable… and, of all people, it was a Schnee. What were the odds?

They were close to the cliff, now, not far from the catapults that had launched them into the Emerald Forest that fateful Initiation Day. A rocket locker was already there, and as they approached, Penny stepped out from behind it. Both her cheeks bore temporary tattoos of wings. Her face lit up in a smile so openly, unabashedly happy it almost made Blake smile in sympathy. Almost. "Sal-u-tations, Team BXPS," said Penny.

"No," said Weiss automatically.

"It won't stop being our team name just because you hate it," said Blake.

"We can at least not pretend we like it," said Weiss.

"If I said I didn't like it, that would be a lie, and lying is bad," Penny said seriously.

Weiss crossed her arms in frustration. "Could you at least explain what we're doing out here?"

"Absolutely," said Penny. She took a lateral step away from the rocket locker and her jetpack's wings popped into flight position. "I will be taking each of you recreational flying today," she said matter-of-factly.

Blake reaped her reward for keeping this a surprise as she took in the faces of her teammates.

"Flying has tactical utility," Penny went on, numb to the faces Weiss and Yang were making, "but I have discovered it is also terrific fun on its own. There is the exhilaration of speed, the thrill of the unusual, the shattering of perspective, the…"

She trailed off and brought a finger to her lips as if reconsidering. "Thesaurus... I mean, I believe it cannot be expressed fully with words. It must be experienced."

"I flew with you before," said Weiss, "and I didn't find it to be 'terrific fun'."

"You flew with me in combat," Penny pointed out. "It's a very different experience from flying for the fun of it."

"C'mon, princess, give it a shot," said Yang.

Weiss shot Yang a stern look. "If you think it's such a good idea, why don't you go first?"

"Ha! Sucker," said Yang. "I wanted to go first and you just let me. Thanks!"

As Weiss was left looking both furious and confused, Yang walked up to Penny. "How's this going to work?" said Yang.

"I'll carry you," said Penny. "I know you're bigger than me, but it shouldn't affect our aerodynamics too much, between my strength and the jetpack's thrust."

"I'll take your word for it," said Yang. "Let's do this."

Penny scooped up Yang with an ease that belied the size difference between the two. There was a moment of tension as Penny leaned forward to get the launch angle she wanted. Then there came a blast of thrust strong enough to send hot air swirling around Blake, and Penny was airborne. Yang's manic laughter reached her only afterwards and distantly.

"And that's supposed to be fun?" said Weiss.

"It's fun for Penny, that's for sure," said Blake.

"I wouldn't put it past Yang to enjoy it, either."

Blake felt a half-grin creep onto her face. "And Yang enjoying something means it's bad?"

"She enjoyed that concert," said Weiss. "That's proof enough of her poor taste."

Whatever clever rejoinder Blake might have thought at this died quietly and alone. The concert, and all that had happened during and after it, was too fraught for Blake and Weiss to discuss. Something unsettled and unresolved hovered in the air between the women.

Weiss seemed to be feeling the same way as Blake. She clammed up and looked away, and for long seconds there was no noise atop the cliff, only the subdued sounds of the forest below and the background roar of a distant jetpack.

"I'd been meaning to say something about that, actually," said Weiss.

Here it came. This was the interrogation Blake had been dreading ever since that night. She had already arrayed her defenses, and her excuses and evasions were ready to go, but that made it no less pleasant to have to use them.

"It's not really any of my business who you talk to outside the team," said Weiss.

"He's just an acquaintance, it's nothing—wait, what?"

"I said," repeated Weiss, "it's your business, not mine."

"Well, yeah," said Blake, completely wrong-footed. "Obviously."

"And, just as obviously," Weiss continued, "if it was something to worry about, you would tell us that. We trust you as our leader, with the understanding that if there's a problem, you'll let us know and involve us. Right?"

It was almost too incisive. Blake wondered if she would ever get to where being called 'leader' didn't feel like an attack. Weiss was giving Blake everything she wanted, backing off completely—so why was Blake tenser than ever?

"Right?" Weiss prompted again.

"Right," said Blake, mostly to make Weiss stop.

Weiss probably meant for the quiet that followed to be friendly, but Blake couldn't quite get there. There was more to that concert interaction than Blake had yet admitted to, some vital context that she had not revealed to her teammates.

Could she? Did she dare?

It wasn't an easy thing to face. She'd run away from this problem already, and she didn't think she was much stronger now… But. Even if she wasn't strong enough to face it, was she at least strong enough to talk about it?

Two months ago, she would have laughed at the idea; she would have laughed twice as hard if she'd been told a Schnee would be her audience. And yet… Weiss was changing before her eyes. Weiss had been as good as her word, dutifully supporting Blake's leadership. Her distaste for her father had turned out to be genuine. When Blake began to feed her evidence of the SDC's many misdeeds, something she wouldn't have dared do if she were still closeted, Weiss' attitudes had adjusted accordingly. Weiss was unusually rational—which she was too proud of, but still.

If Weiss could change and be better… maybe Blake could, too?

"Weiss..." Blake began.

And then there was a blast of air as something heavy hit the ground at great speed. Blake shook off her surprise and saw that Penny had returned, looking as exuberant as ever, her feet partially buried under the impact of landing. She was placing Yang back on her feet, and Yang was laughing her head off.

"That was awesome!" said Yang. "You get to do stuff like that all this time?!"

"Not all the time," said Penny. "It is quite energy-intensive. Still, it is glorious when I do."

"I'll say! That was almost as great as a ride on my motorcycle!" Yang turned to her teammates. "You've gotta try this."

Blake felt a tug, as if Yang's words were pulling her in that direction. Blake couldn't explain it, but when Yang spoke it seemed to count for a little extra. "Alright," she said. "I'll go next."

"Sensational," said Penny. She walked up to Blake and, before Blake could protest or even feel defensive about it, scooped Blake into her arms with efficient, almost impersonal motions.

Penny took two steps away from the others to clear a space while holding Blake in a grip so firm it might have been made of iron. As before, Penny bent slightly forward, paused for only a second while a hum from her back rose in pitch and volume, and then-

Huntresses were fast. Even not counting those with speed-related semblances, professional Huntresses had the vision, reflexes, and sheer speed to evade or deflect gunfire. Blake, if not quite at that level, was pretty close.

Even for her, this acceleration was wild.

The force of Penny's takeoff stole Blake's breath away, while the whipping winds brought tears to her eyes. Almost before Blake could process what was happening, they were sailing out at double the height of the cliff, which meant four times the height from the forest floor-

For a moment there was blind panic, and Blake's body revolted, trying to jerk free with the aid of the wind resistance that howled all around her and pressed at every piece of skin. "That would be a bad idea," said Penny with bafflingly impeccable calm.

"This was a bad idea," screamed Blake.

"Give it a minute," said Penny, and she dipped her left wing to settle into an easy port bank.

The maneuver raised Blake's head until it was like she was sitting. For whatever reason, that helped, and Blake felt her perspective shift. Below was a sea of green, rushing past almost too fast to make out individual trees. The cliffs look smaller every moment, with the difference between cliff and forest and sky shrinking by the second. In the far distance, the spires of Beacon were only just visible above the horizon.

It all looked so different than it ever had before. Blake didn't have the words to articulate how it felt, but something about seeing Beacon in the abstract, from a remove, was as compelling as seeing it all around her had been.

It all looked small, trivial. Unthreatening. Like she'd left all her troubles down below, while up here she was free. Blake felt relief, and treasured the feeling.

As Penny continued her slow bank around, Beacon left Blake's field of view, and the mountains dominated instead. Tall, daunting things they were, large and jagged as dragon's teeth, one of the great barriers isolating the heart of the Kingdom of Vale from the worst monsters beyond. They were imposing, yet Blake did not feel imposed upon. Even with them so large and uninviting, Blake knew she could scale or bypass them on her own. With Penny's help, it would be trivial.

Now that was a thought.

"I told you this was fun," said Penny, somehow able to make herself heard above the roar of the wind.

"I suppose," said Blake, but dishonestly; she was liking this more than she'd admit. It was a strange combination of exciting and soothing. She'd stopped struggling against Penny's hold on her and found herself feeling strangely relaxed.

For a moment.

"I think it's time to perform some aerobatics," said Penny.

Blake whipped her head back and forth. "No barrel rolls," she said.

"Okay, sure," said Penny.

And then the whole world was spinning and Blake lost all sense of what was up and what was down.

It was mercifully brief, but still left Blake reeling with upset in her equilibrium and stomach. "What did I just say?" she demanded.

"That was not a barrel roll," said Penny. "That was an aileron roll. A barrel roll goes more like this!"

Blake screamed her regret.

Next time: Hard Counter