I shielded my eyes against the light as Claws arrived as an ear-splitting streak of lightning. She crouched on the sand ten meters from Barry, then started whirling her arm round-and-round like a little kid winding up a punch.

  Instead of her fist, though, she lashed out with an electric raccoon.

  He came from her core, propelled forward by centrifugal force and the power of friendship. With a wicked grin, he curled into a tight ball, reducing drag and concentrating his mass.

  Of all the thoughts to cross my mind, I wondered why the little rascal was so happy—he was a thief at heart, but appeared to be absolutely chuffed about being involved in mischief. Barry closed his eyes, and I covered him with a shield just before the raccoon struck him square in the ches... never mind. With a secondary spout of lightning from his tail, Claws’s familiar changed course at the last second.

  Barry was ready for it. He squatted down, placing his chest in the firing line once more, but his foe was more troublesome than any of us had imagined. He’d predicted Barry’s movement. Extending his front paws, the raccoon’s trajectory shifted once more, almost skimming the ground. He slammed directly into Barry’s groin, his grabby little fingers finding purchase on the fabric of Barry’s pants.

  Ahhh, I thought, realizing the reason for the familiar’s happiness. Depantsing—a worthy cause.

  I added several layers of protection to make sure Barry and, uhhh, little Barry weren’t physically injured. While his body was safe, his pride was another story, and I felt a pang of remorse as the raccoon-turned-cannonball used Barry’s newfound velocity to remove his own pants. He sailed over Tropica in a hapless manner, only his tighty-whities preventing everything from being on display.

  “Hey!” Maria yelled. “That was way more than one layer!”

  “I couldn’t let him get hit in the knackers at full force. I’d have felt too guilty.”

  “Guilty?” Paul asked. “It was a silly bet, right? It’s his own fault.”

  Maria and I shared a glance, and Cinnamon covered a squeaky laugh. The raccoon and Claws outright cackled, leaning on each other for support.

  Maria leaned down. “Can you keep a secret, Paul?”

  As with every time he was presented with a challenge, he nodded, his jaw firm.

  “Well, here’s the thing. Fischer tried to walk into the beam on purpose.”

  Paul gave her, then me, an incredulous look. “No he didn’t. Fischer was surprised when Cinnamon kicked him. And when he learned about the bet.”

  “Oh? And how do you know that?”

  Bonnie’s gaze sharpened. “Don’t tell me...”

  Paul’s gaze drifted toward her before shifting back to Maria. “I could feel Fischer’s surprise. Despite having less power than all of you, even I could sense...” His eyes slowly widened as understanding blossomed in his core.

  Maria tapped her nose. “Clever lad.”

  “You let me feel it on purpose...” He stared into the far distance as he searched his memories. “The whole time, Fischer...?”

  I gave him an intentionally flat look, then concentrated on the same thoughts that had made shock pour from me earlier.

  Though I had to consciously let him feel my emotions, Paul couldn’t have hidden his from me if he tried. I winced as I felt his respect for me draining away. “I promise there was a good reason for it, mate. There’s also a reason that you have to keep it a secret. That cool with you too, Bonnie?”

  “Yep.” Unlike Paul, she wasn’t at all bothered about our conspiracy to shame Barry.

  “Why, then?” Paul’s mind clung to the explanation I’d offered with white-knuckled intensity. “Why would you embarrass my dad like that?”

  I sighed. “For the good of everyone, mate. There was an evil mastermind behind it, but it wasn’t me…”

  I pointed to Claws, who grinned and waved back with one forepaw, the other bouncing her raccoon bud up and down like a baseball.

  “Claws is a being of pure chaos. She was bad before, but now she literally can’t help herself. That being said, I don’t want to banish her from Tropica just because she might zap a person or two.” I raised a finger to interrupt her before she could object. “Yes, Claws, I’m well aware that you’d zap way more than two people if we hadn’t made the deal. I’m trying to make you sound better than you are.”

  “Deal...?” Paul looked at Claws, who bent over backwards to wave at him through her own legs. “What deal?”

  “Why, for chaos, of course.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “You know when I built that last section of the boat, I went quiet for a while?”

  “Yeah...”

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  “My bond with Claws has never been stronger. We can communicate over significant distances now. I wasn’t lost in thought, mate. I was lost in conversation.”

  “More like locked in negotiations with a terrorist...” Maria muttered.

  Claws agreed wholeheartedly with an affirmative chirp.

  “But... why couldn’t you tell my dad?” Paul leaned toward me, his core hoping for a good explanation. “Why did you have to cheat him into losing a bet...?”

  “Well, I tried to make the deal affect Maria. Or literally anyone other than me.”

  They weren’t goood enooough, Claws chirped with sing-song cadence.

  “It had to be me, Paul. I had to agree, or else the citizens of Tropica might suffer. Barry would understand if I could tell him, but part of the deal was that he remains in the dark.

  “I guess that makes sense...” He turned his gaze on Claws, his face more considerate than a boy his age should be. “If it has to be a secret, why tell me and her?”

  Bonnie’s lip curled up on one side. “May I take a guess?”

  Claws nodded, a twinkle in her eye.

  “It’s because telling the two of us creates more chaos in the long-run. We’ll doubt every action that Fischer makes, assuming that it might be a task to appease Claws. Telling any more people could undermine Fischer’s leadership.” She tapped her chin in thought. “Two is the perfect amount, really—we’ll only have each other to converse with. Other than Maria and Fischer, of course. But they’re directly connected to Claws via some cultivation bullshit, so they don’t count.”

  “Damn, Bonnie.” I pointed at Claws, whose head was nodding so fast that it looked like she might take flight. “You verbalised a concept that she was struggling with.”

  Corporal Claws, queen of the sands and rider of lighting, zapped toward Bonnie, a grin on her face. She drew back a forelimb and collected chi, ready to hit the recently broken-through cultivator. I could have stopped her, of course. But there was no need. Claws arm shot forward, slowing at the last second as she touched Bonnie’s arm.

  There was a transfer of power. A branding, of sorts. And a bright-blue mark, in the shape of Claws’s pawpad, was left behind. It faded in seconds, a whisper of the chi going dormant rather than disappearing entirely.

  Bonnie took a step back, eyes narrowing. “What... what was that?”

  “No fracking clue,” I said, “but it was definitely positive. She’s not telling me, so I’m guessing it’s a secret.”

  Claws winked, gave me a thumbs up, and absolutely launched her fucking raccoon at me.

  “Stop that!” I yelled, not needing to feign my annoyance as I kicked the little bastard into the ocean. “That wasn’t part of the deal!”

  With a chirp that promised it was probably the last time she’d break the agreement, Claws leaped into the air and intercepted her spirit raccoon, absorbing him into her core. Gotta-go-experiment-byeee! she trilled.

  The moment she struck the waves, she went full submarine. A focused stream of lightning flew from her back legs, only her grinning head remaining above water as she tore off to the south. She disappeared in less than a second, making it around the mountainous shore on her way to whatever gods-forsaken experiments she intended on conducting.

  I let out a steadying sigh. “Where were we? Ah yes, building a—”

  There was a burst of chi from the other side of Tropica, the flood of essence feeling almost as sharp as Roger’s. Sand sprayed in every direction as a muscle-bound figure slammed down next to the ship. A pair of red eyes glowed through the cloud of air-born debris, making my pal look like a final boss.

  Maria leaned toward me and whispered, “Where did he find pants…?”

  “Where are they?” Barry’s voice was riddled with anger, holding an edge deadlier than the chi radiating from his core.

  “Uhhh,” I said, “You mean Claws and her furry little bowling ball?”

  “Yes,” he hissed, his mouth literally trailing steam.

  “She left, mate. Went back beyond the mountains to experiment, whatever that means.”

  He took a shuddering step, and I had to quash my guilt lest he notice it. Sensing a wave of emotion coming from Paul, I surrounded him with my chi, shielding his thoughts from Barry. I was all for pranks, but the raccoon nutshot had been a direct challenge to his pride—the very thing Barry, er... prided himself on.

  Five minutes later, and after Barry’s body had lost more moisture to evaporation than I thought was strictly healthy, he rolled his shoulders. “Okay. I think I’m over it.”

  “Good!” I said. “Because if we don’t finish soon, Helen will have all our hides.”

  The hint of panic in Barry’s eyes wasn’t a facade. He had been so bothered by Claws’s shenanigans that he’d entirely forgotten about the curfew. He was a blur as he rushed to the tar-covered caulking. “Do we just pack the gaps? Are there any special instructions? Can we all do it?”

  I barked a laugh at his string of worry-fueled questions. “Yes, no, and yes. Pack the gaps so they’re watertight. Usually I’d say do it as hard as you can, but I suspect we’d all be able to crack the hull with our bare hands, so don’t rush it.”

  Even with the extreme carefulness I employed, the process was swift and enjoyable. I didn’t let the stickiness of the blackened chords bother me, instead using their unique texture as a source of mindful meditation. There was something oddly satisfying about the task. Unlike the boatwrights of old, we could employ our bare hands instead of metal tools.

  Packing the particularly egregious gaps left me feeling accomplished at first, but I quickly grew used to it. My mind wandered, and as I pictured the boat, I started adding additional features. A cabin for privacy. Beds. Rod holders. An anchor. A kitchen. And most important of all, a flushable toilet along with the requisite plumbing. They could all be added later, of course, but why not try to add them now if the System might help?

  I racked my brain for anything I was missing, and remembering the charter boats I’d seen back on Earth, I wondered if a motor was something we should include. But then an image flashed through my mind. Corporal Claws, her adorable-yet-annoying grin fixed on us as she went full submarine earlier.

  Different possibilities arrived by the dozens. One stood above all the others, a mode of ocean transport in a fantasy book I’d read as a young man. It was fiction of course, but the more I thought about it, the more I seriously considered it. The worst-case scenario was that it ruined the ship. That would be a pain, but it wasn’t the end of the world... right?

  I weighed the pros and cons as the others continued caulking. The world, however, had different plans.

  Chi rose around us in streams, pouring toward the ship. Perhaps it should have instilled a sense of worry deep within me. Maybe it should have made adrenaline course through my veins, my indecision leading to anxiety and panic. But as I felt the essence collecting around us, preparing to slam into and transform our first aquatic vessel, all I could feel was unbridled joy.

  There was no more time to deliberate, so I followed my gut and imagined what I wanted. The world’s chi answered.

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