April 27, 12:02AM

Go take a Cold Shower 55%

There were many ways she wanted to answer his question. Her body supplied her with all the information she could possibly desire in that regard, and it wasn’t inclined to do much thinking right now. There was no time to stop and consider. Only a simple fact in her desire, and a way to fulfill it.

Just get a little closer, give him permission, and Peter would take care of the rest. She wouldn’t be alone anymore, wouldn’t be abandoned.

If it wasn’t for all her magical practice over the last few weeks, Wayfinder never could’ve refused him. He was close, she was lonely, and he’d proved himself since they met. But something he said stuck in her mind, catching her up short. “Even though it might not last.”

Wayfinder might have had far more to drink than she’d intended, but those words still stuck in her head. “You don’t think…” She splashed a short distance away from him, far enough that she took in a breath that wasn’t heavy with his scent. “You don’t think we would make it?”

Peter shrugged, and a familiar casual grin came over his face. “I’ve never even done this as a horse before, princess. How would I know whether something’s gonna last?”

He splashed closer to her, and she felt the touch of something soft in her mane—magic, running through it like fingers. Soothing, inviting her closer… “It can last for right now. Long enough to see where it goes. Maybe we make it a few weeks, maybe months. Does it matter the destination, if it’s fun getting there?”

For a split second, she remembered being the one to ask a question like that. Chatting with Ruby between classes, convincing her to join him for dinner. That version of her would probably not be bothered knowing their relationship hadn’t made it two years. But that version also took precautions against becoming a parent too early.

“Do you have any, like…” she hesitated. “Course we don’t.” She glanced sideways at him, and her eyes froze. No, there was nothing made appropriate to their transformed anatomy. Could she really just walk away from—

“It doesn’t have to last,” Peter said, and his horn stopped glowing. “But I want you to want it too. That’s what makes it fun.”

“I want…” Something in her old self must still be there, because it pushed her. Her mind cleared, and she lowered her tail behind her. She hadn’t even realized it had been up. “I think I want a shower before we go. Head inside in ten, yeah? I’ll be out by then.”

He sighed, pushing back in the water. “Sure, Wayfinder. Just… not deciding is a decision too. If we get down there, we meet other people—there’s nothing that says the two of us are ever gonna be together like this again. Right now, we’re just friends. Held together by our shared suffering. I owe you for saving my life, but…”

She clambered over the side, onto the deck. “I know.” She walked along to his side of the spa, close enough to touch him. She did, reaching over the side with a foreleg. “I like you, Peter. But I’m not sure I know enough to be… ready for what that means.”

Every word felt like clawing her way through the mud, fighting a powerful current. She made it, and pulled her hoof back. “I don’t want to jump in blind, no matter how good it feels. I’m not just new at being a horse, I’m new at being a woman, too. I’m not ready for this yet.”

He pushed away through the water. “Alright, Wayfinder. Guess we’ll see where that takes us.”

They didn’t share the bed that night. Even after a cold shower, she still felt hot from the water in a way that made it hard to think clearly. That was a problem only separation could solve. Besides, she could tell that her rejection had stung Peter, especially after it was her who made the move in the first place.

Hopefully he would forgive her taking more time. Maybe long enough to be sure that what they did together wouldn’t carry forward any consequences. Would a government isolation zone have supplies for that?

She woke up earlier than she had to, after a few more trips to the bathroom and a few extra liters of water. Her new body wasn’t even hung over, other than a mild headache from lack of sleep.

That was fine—she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. There was just too much pressure, too much anticipation for the change to come.

One by one they all finished cleaning up, switched out the lights, and made their way to the garage. Wayfinder took the passenger seat, with Sam behind the wheel in a modified seat.

Both pedals were now accessible from much higher, using a Magiver-tier set of joints and shafts. He caught her looking sideways and winked. “I made sure it’s big enough for you too, if we have to switch.”

“Do we have enough gas to make it back?” Ruby asked, leaning forward through the gap in the front and back rows. “I filled it before I lost my body, but I don’t remember how much it took to get up here. Wasn’t exactly in the best shape last time.”

“Technically? Yes,” Wayfinder said. “But that’s assuming we take all the main highways and nothing stops us before we get down there. What are our odds of that, Peter?”

“Low,” he said. “Local sources say there are checkpoints near any large town. Anyone who looks even a little shady gets sent around. Some of those diversions are hours down back-roads. When we could just take a few minutes through somewhere barely anyone lives.”

“They shouldn’t know we’ve been infected for long,” Wayfinder continued. “Our story is that we were taking a break after Ruby finished finals, and we came up together to my cabin. We got infected up there somehow, and now we’re following government instructions.”

“Unfortunately,” Sam grunted. “I still think we could make it on our own out in the boonies somewhere. Especially once you two figure out all the magic in that book.”

“Maybe when you can catch a fish with your bare hands and eat it raw,” Ruby said. “But I can only stand the meat so often.”

“Agreed.” Wayfinder unfolded something with her magic: a large map, big enough that it could’ve blocked out the whole front window. Of course they didn’t use it that way, and she folded it back so only the relevant portions remained. Along with the route she’d drawn.

“So we’ve got a couple of options. We could go straight down the highway and hope they let us through—we’re doing what they want. If the roadblocks are cooperative, we’ll make it to Denver in less than a tank. Alternatively, we go this way. It’s out of the way—lots of dirt roads, fire access, that kind of thing. Technically some of this is private land. But it’s all remote enough that it shouldn’t have blocks.”

“Seems like an easy choice to me,” Ruby said. “Go the way that nothing stops us. Obviously.”

“It’s longer,” she said, floating the map closer to Ruby so she could see. “We will run out before the end, unless we take a chance to go into town and get gas. That means we’ll have to ditch the car and make the last… 30 miles or so on foot, assuming the rest of it goes to plan. 30 miles at our size should only be… maybe two nights, if we keep a good pace. But it does limit what we can bring.”

“I hate walking,” Peter said. “But I hate getting thrown into a cell more.”

“So what are you voting for?” she asked, folding the map back up. “That wasn’t a decision!”

Sam shrugged unhelpfully. “I just wanna be on the road. You direct me, and I’ll drive.”

He started the car, and backed them down the drive. That left Wayfinder to decide the route.

1. Take the safer path and accept walking the last leg.
2. Risk a direct route to stay in the car.