2/2

Added to all that was Jaq, who couldn't speak to her much with his broken German but was a marvelous bouncer for the girls of the circus anyways. The strongman did tend to beat away the overzealous admirers the trapeze artists and showgirls tended to attract as it was, he just didn't seem to mind when appreciated for doing so.

Jaq was also someone who Valera couldn't charm, given he didn't understand much Russian and understood about one word of five in German.

Renato was harder to dodge than Valera. She wasn't sure if that was a bonus in favor of the Italian Mafioso or against the Russian vor, but it was true.

The problem was the fact that the Storm-Cloud wasn't speaking to Grekov Gang's man proved she did have something to hide. That something only partially included Cherep, but he was still part of it.

Sonya didn't have the charisma to avoid confirming the bare basics, or apparently to pry a leech off her. The fact was annoying her greatly, more than getting Valera sicced on her at all had.

It stood to reason that she wasn't remotely happy when the mechanic popped up at first.

There was less than a day left to go, Großes Volksfest would be packing up at the end of this night and leaving for Finland, Norway, and Sweden in that order. That was where they would leave the Iron Curtain, as well.

The slick man probably sensed a weakness, because for all that he was getting stonewalled by her he was probably a good intelligence gatherer for their age group. The St Petersburg vor turned an ingraining smile on the purple haired mechanic. "Now, now? Who is this?"

"Someone, nice to meet you." Cherep eyed him, then her probably flat expression. Then took the conversation somewhere his little sister didn't quite expect. "Are you coming to the after-party?"

"Not planning on it, no." She responded hesitantly. "Why?"

"You know, you don't have to stick so close to Crina. I don't think that bat would mind if you tried socializing a little."

"I stick to said bat because at least she's honest about herself and how she views others."

"The women around here might not be collectively the nicest girls ever, but they're not all that bad. There's a couple I think you might actually like somewhat."

Sonya gave that some thought, because her best friend did know her better than anyone else around for kilometers. If he thought she might like someone, it was possible. "Uh… maybe. Depends."

"Excuse me-"

The Cloud siblings looked at him, then each other, then looked back at Valera and spoke at the same time. "No."

The thief then ignored him, because she had better things to do. "I don't have to bring something, do I?"

"Like what?"

"Liquor or food? It's a party, isn't it?"

"The food is mostly leftover concession stand fair, so no food. We do chip in for the cost of the booze, though."

"Then I'm chipping in for Jaq, because I had to hide behind him yesterday."

Cherep snorted dryly. "You realize that's why he does it, right?"

"It would be rude to not, taking advantage of him like that without giving him something to show for it."

"You should probably go tell Crina you're abandoning her for the night, then." Somehow, the mechanic had managed things which ended up with Sonya no longer cornered against a block of fair food stalls.

She took the obvious opening Cherep made for her, not entirely sure how he managed that but greatly appreciative of it anyways. He waited until she was obviously out of sight before turning to the vor that had been harassing her.

"Stop bothering her, before I spread the news some faction in St Petersburg has no problem interrupting normal business hours on whims."

"You're the devotchka's little guard dog, then?"

"A concerned bystander, at the very least." Her brother demurred easily, not reacting to the insinuation at all.

She was a little impressed at that, as she couldn't keep from getting defensive when pressed.

Maybe he had a point when insisting she should socialize more, she couldn't really get people to stop pressing if the icy thing didn't turn them off and she wasn't allowed to retaliate freely.

A mental note made to bother Cherep the next time she couldn't get someone off her, and the former pickpocket left him to it. He was doing a lot better than she had done trying to get the vor to leave.

CVI (Thursday the 5 thof May, 1966. Helsinki, the Republic of Finland.)

Passing part of the Iron Curtain from Soviet controlled countries into non-Soviet territory still bemused Sonya no matter how many times she did it.

From what Rachel had once known, the phenomena of the Cold War called the 'Iron Curtain' blocked off access between a large chunk of Eurasia and the rest of the world as a halt of all things. Trade, immigration, and outside news, none of it was supposed to leach through without underground, either underworld or spies leaking information, help.

Both a physical and mental barrier, an eyesore of a scar that split Germany's capital city in half.

Which… wasn't how it worked as far as she knew it in this lifetime. She had made it a point to know, given her work on a non-stationary floating island that moved far in as little as a week.

Under a less hostile Cold War the Iron Curtain merely meant a boundary line that Soviet communists didn't tend to cross and where trade being imported into the region tended to dry up. The 'war' was more one of ideology fought with business models and the continued successes of government rule, not one fought by suggesting the possibility of murdering another's populace and armies before they could murder you.

Still an eyesore of a scar that separated East and West Germany, and a distinct 'regional' mindset was found in those that lived within it that was less than hospitable to those outside of it. More mental than physical in places, but enough was physical that it was similar enough as it was.

Part of that bewildering pacifistic warfare was fought by the entertainment industry, in the Russian Circuses that toured around and showcased the talents of young Soviet men and women to the rest of the world. They didn't quite stack up to Hollywood, but they were more real than fantasy people on the silver screen in return for the lesser spotlight.

While traveling for a vacation outside the Soviet Union made the border guards peer at their foster family suspiciously all those years ago… it also meant the thief traveling for 'business' was just barely tolerable, no matter what age she was at, and being one part of a circus troupe actually 'favorable'.

The circus master Liam got them through the Iron Curtain at St Petersburg and to Finland's capital of Helsinki in what seemed to her record setting time.

Rachel had grown up hearing the result of the fall of the Berlin Wall and the rest of the Iron Curtain, which made what Sonya know of it more confusing.

Of course, that was until she bothered to touch base with the local faction of mafia in the area.

Not something she tended to do when outside the Soviet Union, for usually at best she was in whatever city or town for a night before leaving again. The slow crawl progress the circus was doing made her look around for something to distract her, and underworld neutral points were interesting to scope out if you had the time.

They weren't the safest thing to do, however.

Randomly wandering into one made for a very hostile reception, until you could prove you belonged to the underworld yourself. The Russian thief's tattoos did help slightly, but that wasn't something she could walk around showing off freely this close to the Soviet Union.

She ended up smashing some overly slick ass of a man's head into the bar, not hard enough to pulp the bone and brain but enough to knock the so called 'gentleman' out for the night. That got her a free shot of whisky she wasn't drinking and a bit of local gossip, as the man had been annoying the owner of the little watering hole before he switched targets to her.

Gossip about how hard one of the local syndicate's bosses was working to keep the trade going even in the face of Soviet stinginess. Getting more out of the bartender took a respectable amount out of Sonya's purse of loose funds, but she robbed the ass that had lewdly propositioned her to make up for it.

Finland's mercantile side itself was supportive of the views and policies of the Soviet Union, even if they didn't belong to it itself. Meaning they were probably the best place for trade to happen, as any imports into the Union were tariffed heavily. While obviously imports were scorned heavily deeper in the USSR, trading raw materials for consumables were less ostracized the farther one got from the Motherland.

An absolute lockdown on trade wouldn't help the economy in this part of the world, meaning the metal and minerals coming out of the Soviet Union wouldn't be traded for the surplus of food the Finnish somehow had.

She was interested in hearing it and wondered if that would allow her birth country to avoid the fall Rachel knew of. While she might recall a coup and some dubious policies were involved, sometime near Rachel's original birth date, she did not exactly know what led to the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

"Interested in shutting it down?" The bartender asked hesitantly in Russian when she pressed him for more.

"No, my job requires I travel. If there is no trade, there will be no travel. Not very good for a thief who wanders." The Storm-Cloud informed him honestly enough. "I would like to know if you know any obvious obstructions to my continued business."

"No… the most I know of obstructions were all dealt with already."

She mentally debated if he understood her incorrectly or was just being unhelpful. Maybe she should attempt finding someone that knew Finnish or Swedish to teach her. Sonya belatedly realized half the problem might be the fact she wasn't ordering anything to drink… but she also didn't want the whisky shot she hadn't watched being poured.

"You wouldn't happen to have any vodka, would you?" She would have to watch her intake closely, but at least she knew her limits with that poison. A couple shots wouldn't do more than make her tipsy, her limit for casual drinking.

Playing a snooty Russian connoisseur of liquor got her more information on the ongoing trade issues, go figure.

CVII (Sunday the 29th of May, 1966. Muonio, the Republic of Finland.)

Setting up the Großes Volksfest took two days, while breaking it down took one. With a general three days of operation a week if they were going fast and eleven if it was a slower visit, that left a day of travel from point to point.

The combination of the slow crawl up Finland, where they would cross over to Norway near the most northern edge of the country then zigzag across to Sweden the way down to England, and the amount of time between opening the circus and closing for the weekend literally drove Sonya to drink.

At mafia bars, but the point stood.

Why wasn't there a mafia library or something?

The biggest variation she found was a quaint little sandwich shop in Tarnpere, or a cigar shop and smoking lounge in Oulu, but mainly underworld gathering spots were all bars.

The Storm-Cloud would kill for a simple café… but mafia cafés likely started in France and it would take another two or three months to get down there.

The more she visited the underworld hotspots, the more she regretted her personal view on using her Dying Will Flames obviously until they became more common. Which was not to, at least until she wouldn't be preemptively attacked or courted by someone more annoying than Valera from St Petersburg.

Local news in this northeastern corner of the underworld was that while Dying Will Flames were making a small trickle comeback, they weren't widespread yet. Syndicates were still zealously guarding their few users, even if their abilities were of a more party-trick variety than useful.

Like Dmitriy, and his ability to calm hysterics or stop machinery. While that might get to the point of Tranquilizing someone to death if he had the motivation, it wasn't apparent just yet.

At the very least she started buying bottles of whatever local brew was available and giving it to Madame Crina, who cut back on the sour sniping and bitchiness in return. It probably wasn't the best idea to enable the old bat's alcoholic tendency, but she seemed happier at least.

Sonya herself took up a very bad habit of smoking, but she'd stop… eventually. She had to, with her book hoarding issue the fires that could start alone would make her.

Admittedly, that issue could be solved by smoking outside.

She gave the, very annoying, cancer stick in her hands a dark look.

…fuck it, at least the habit was relaxing if not great for her health. She'd be coughing out a lung by the time she was thirty.

Besides her increasing alcohol tolerance and picking up a nasty habit, the freelance thief also learned a bit about the Obtshak and how it operated. The local conglomerate of mafia groups was at least an equal opportunity one, in that they had a thriving human trafficking ring ongoing.

She spent more time than she'd ever admit keeping track of the circus and ensuring the people she and Cherep worked with were not likely to meet anyone they would only meet once down a dark alleyway. Getting the information to do so made her feel three shades of disgusting, mostly because she wasn't going to wage a one-woman crusade against any underworld syndicate involved in human trafficking.

Sonya likely wouldn't survive trying that. She couldn't afford to. Therefore, she wasn't planning on it.

No matter how closely that scraped against her sensibilities or made her irritable.

The misplaced Russian stopped short, flicking her nearly burnt out cigarette butt to the sidewalk and grinding the still burning cherry under her heel. It didn't make her feel better.

Though she itched to light up another one, just simply because it was something to do, Sonya didn't particularly want to become a chain smoker and refrained.

The whole reason she was out that night was because her best friend and a few of the other young men from the circus decided to go out drinking. Strictly a guy thing in a tiny tavern of Muonio, their last city they would be visiting in Finland. Sort of a celebration of a kind, in getting free and clear this far with a semi-respectable amount to travel on.

Even if they did badly in Norway and Sweden, they had the funds to absorb that and continue to move on.

Instead of spending yet another night darning whatever Crina wanted fixed or seeking out a bar of her own to get slightly tipsy at or try socializing with the other carnie workers, Sonya had decided to wander about.

It was a nice night, slightly warmer than Moscow. Pretty too, with the stars and everything overhead.

The scream that escaped the nearby alleyway she had just passed sent knives up her spine, and she hesitated.

On one hand it really wasn't her business… and yet she just as fast turned around to see what the hell was going on and if it was one of the circus workers.

Damn her bloody, paranoid curiosity.

It wasn't a girl, even if the scream had been shrill and ear breaking. Someone rather youngish hadn't been able to keep it in when someone else broke their hand.

She eyed the group suspiciously, but figured it was likely a thief that got caught out stealing from the wrong person.

Again, not her business.

That didn't mean they decided she was just as irrelevant as she thought them.

Sonya got something spat at her before she could keep walking but being unable to speak the local language kind of hampered the communication. She tried anyways, holding up her hands and repeating 'I'm not involved' in all the languages she knew. German, French, Italian, Russian, English, Chinese, and trying what broken Arabic or Romanian she had been adding lately.

It didn't help, she was almost unsurprised by that.

CVIII (Monday the 30th of May, 1966. Muonio, the Republic of Finland.)

Sonya didn't particularly want to kill.

It wasn't so much a moral, 'respect all living things' ideology she held fast to as it was a semi-troubling slippery slope in her shadowy underworld life. A kind of 'do it once and never stop' kind of assumption prevalent in her lifestyle.

Stealing one's valuables probably wasn't nearly as lucrative as stealing someone's life.

Therefore, if she ever had to… for the sake of her own life or her safety or whatever reason she would try to justify it, she would rather it happen much, much later.

However, these… people were armed and didn't look very happy with her moment of curiosity. They also had no issue pointing firearms in her face.

If she didn't want to kill them, she was a little limited on the Dying Will Flames end. Nothing overt, anyways. That ruled out her Bec de Corbins, because she wasn't obviously armed with large polearms.

The brat the four gentlemen of questionable morals had been roughing over collapsed, from pain or stress or just a combination of both or more, pulling down the arms of one man and attracting massed attention.

The thief moved directly afterwards to take advantage, abusing the hell out of her Propagation enabled speed and the combat teachings Aleksandr drilled in all the Mafiya brats that got shoved at him. An elbow to one's throat, a punch to someone else's guts, kicked out knee and her own drilled into someone's nose, and that left her the last man holding the collapsed brat.

He almost shot her, but the aim was off enough it didn't even skim her skin. Sonya did feel the heat of the bullet pass her stomach and likely put a hole through her clothes, so she punched his lights out.

That left her with four unconscious bodies and a whimpering brat, but at least she had no overt Flame use here that might come back to bite her.

Kicking the kid lightly in the thigh didn't get her much of a response. Sighing heavily through her nose, the Russian thief hauled the skinny kid up and tossed him over a shoulder.

She did interfere, so she had to take responsibility for what had happened. Sonya intended to dump him off at a hospital or, if he woke up, home if he had one.

Much to her irritation, he took the opportunity to throw up whatever had been in his stomach all over the back of her coat.

Well… if this didn't teach her to mind her own damn business, nothing would.

He was at least weakly twitching and somewhat moving under his own power, so she set him on his feet once they were free of the alleyway. Taking off and tossing the coat he soiled on him, the Russian promptly left him there.

He was alive and awake… ish. He could make his own damn way home… or to a hospital.

She dug into her pockets of her slacks, came to a sudden halt as something missing occurred to her, and turned back.

The brat was no more awake than he had been before, but he was at least aware enough to know she was possibly lethally violent and not something he wanted to draw the focused attention of. Him stiffening up when she approached was probably a little too late to help him much in that.

She just wanted her pack of the damn cigarettes back, and after digging them out of the coat turned to continue.

Small little parlor trick she had learned, a brush of Storm Flames could light things on fire if she was careful enough. It was less holding her red fire to an object and letting the Disintegration feature leech into whatever, more holding it close until it combusted itself under the heat, but an interesting trick that meant she would never require a lighter to smoke.

Kind of like using a laser or magnifying glass to light things on fire, but the versatility appealed to her. Possibly even her Cloud Flames could do it, but Storm Flames were how she discovered the ability.

Sonya expected that to be it, she had beaten up a couple of mooks and the kid was… alright-ish. The circus was leaving for Norway the next day, she'd wouldn't be in range of any retaliation in just a few hours. The brat probably knew to keep his head down until he was healed up.

Win for everyone, right?

She did not appreciate the inept stalking.

It took the brat a few streets to decide to do it, and she had almost forgot him by then. Likely he went back to see if he needed to run or something and decided following closely to her was somehow a great idea.

What about her was such bait for bratty little boys?

He followed her six streets, out of the city proper and into the suburbs and eventually into the fairgrounds themselves.

It wasn't that late, so instead of just shaking the kid off her tail or dealing with it she ducked around the last remaining tents a bit until he got closer. Close enough for her to shove him at Madame Crina's feet.

The gypsy woman wasn't remotely amused.

Her apprentice in mysticism hefted over a bottle of whisky from the semi-obvious stash of alcohol she had stored away, and at least the old bat agreed to translate.

The brat's name was Bjǫrn, and he had apparently decided to stick it with Sonya until the next city she visited.

Kid looked nothing like a bear, why Crina translated his name as such was beyond her.

The Russian thief shrugged it off, if it wasn't a permanent arrangement she'd deal. That gibberish that came out of his mouth made her itch, because it sounded like German but wasn't and she couldn't understand him.

Bjǫrn gave her a gap-toothed smile, or grin or whatever that arrangement of his mouth was supposed to be. She glared flatly back at him.

She had Crina tell the brat he was making his own arrangements, because she wasn't doing anything else for him.

Before she left him to managed his own way, she did at least straighten out the bones of his hand. Not to be nice, just so it didn't heal up crooked and have him following her even more. The fingers of her right hand were crooked from smashing them in a heist years ago, it wasn't really all that fun.

Turns out, she probably would've been better off just ignoring him.

He didn't stop stalking her.

CIX (Wednesday the 15th of June, 1966. Tromsø, Kingdom of Norway.)

"You're using math to prove you can do stunts." Sonya summed up Cherep's excited babble shortly a few weeks later, picking through the few he had completed.

It wasn't really a bad idea, honestly. Even if it did make her want to grimace.

It was also more than what she ever figured math would involve in her life, but since he was actually very good at the subject she wasn't surprised he had done this. A bit nervous, and a little wary, but not surprised.

"Think Master Liam will go for it?" Her fellow Cloud had long experience in knowing what her less than expressive tones meant, so he shamelessly ignored the non-enthusiastic mien of his best friend.

As far as Sonya had pegged out circus life, the moment they did less than adequately in a month Liam would go around asking for what the circus people thought they could add to their main show or side attractions. If her mechanically inclined best friend showed his work then, it would likely get at least considered.

Since she was his best friend, she told him so.

"That's… a great idea."

She rolled her eyes at his surprised tone, then rolled up the paper Cherep had used to calculate out angles, forward momentum, and likely distance he could get on his Russian made motorcycle for safe keeping.

They didn't exactly provide the circus with a lot of cash draw on their own. He might enable continued operations and had been doing rather well in that from what was bandied around where his little sister could hear, but she didn't generate a lot of income herself either.

Madame Crina was a niche thing. Fortune tellers were just a staple of visiting a circus. Being a draw girl, or occasionally subbing in for the old bat, didn't increase how much money their booth took in by a lot.

Enough to validate having an assistant, but not enough to make her invaluable.

This stunt thing, if it became popular, would change Cherep from being an expected expense for operations and become a revenue draw in his own right. Master Liam would likely at least try it out, since he was a very good circus master and seemed perfectly amiable to trying different things when he could from what they saw of the big top shows' rotations.

"Just… don't annoy Master Liam asking about it." Sonya ignored his suddenly innocent look. "I know you've been after this for years but try to be patient for a little bit longer. You're almost there. Don't screw it up at the finish line."

Her brother took back his plans with an entirely too angelic smile, tossing them into the steamer trunk he was living out of without looking. "So, what are we doing?"

"I don't know, do you want to go get something other than campfire food for dinner?" She wasn't really a fan of stew and crackers for dinner every night, which was what they typically ate if the circus wasn't set up yet or the cold jerky and dried fruit passed around when they were on the road.

"You're not going drinking tonight?"

"Not much of a point." The mafia hangouts were becoming more and more like simple local watering holes and less like what she'd expect for an underworld hangout.

By all appearances the farther north one got, the less actual syndicates operating.

Sonya had a theory those supposed mafia bars were all along smuggling routes, and only operated as such when their local faction of the mafia came through. Which made the northern end of Norway, Sweden, and Finland somewhat unclaimed territory in the underworld.

There wasn't enough crime to warrant a dedicated den or two. Freelancers abounded in territories like this so there was crime, but if there was a larger networked syndicate she hadn't found them yet.

Not that she'd try to stick it out up here, but it was interesting to know.

"We're going to need someone that speaks the local language." Cherep pointed out, locking his trunk and snagging himself a coat.

It might be the beginning of summer, but they were still in the northern tip of Norway. Biting cold at night didn't really describe it.

"How about that kid?"

"What kid?"

Her fellow Cloud slid an amused look at her as the left the 'dormitory' tent encampment for their night off. "The one that hasn't stopped stalking you since the last town."

"Bear boy?" Sonya asked incredulously. "We are not bringing that annoying brat with us."

Bjǫrn had disappeared for a short while, then somehow popped up once they had crossed the Finland/Norway border. The fact the Russian thief was flatly ignoring him didn't seem to bother him too much, and he kept any thieving away from the circus at least which didn't exactly motivate her into dealing with him.

Likely because she rescued him once he probably thought he could duck behind her again if he pissed off the wrong people. Which she wasn't going to do, because that would only encourage Bjǫrn to keep on doing it.

Actually, she wasn't even sure the brat was a thief. He might've just been a runner, for messages or other bits of less critical information.

Sonya narrowed her eyes on Cherep, who grinned mischievously back at her.

"How about Crina?"

Yes, the only reason she suggested it was to see him blanch. It was funny.

The fact the old bat overheard them and decided to invite herself along was just her luck.

They at least didn't eat stew again that night, and Norway had some fantastic bread. Crina stole half of Sonya's pack of cigarettes, annoyingly enough, but at least kept a civil tongue about her over dinner.

CX (Friday the 1st of July, 1966. Luleå, Kingdom of Sweden.)

Stealing while working for a circus wasn't the best idea, or at least doing them both at the same time wasn't.

That kind of thing could be traced back to the Großes Volksfest and Master Liam to make trouble for them, so even if Sonya got annoyed at the idiots that wandered into the circus just to gape at everything but not spend money she didn't lift their wallets.

She was on such good behavior it was depressing.

A circus troupe was enough of a close-knit community that any theft was rather quickly tracked down and dealt with, meaning it wasn't even worth it in the first place.

The former pickpocket didn't really want to lose her skills while here either. If she couldn't practice them as they were meant to be used, or at least how she tended to use them, then something else had to be found.

She could practice ballet with some of the other girls and helping with the trapeze stunts did count as gymnastic in a way. It didn't really help her muscle tone, because by this point exhausting her Cloud Flames before exercise was a difficult thing to do.

When she went back to being alone, that would hurt like hell to fix.

The only way she'd get combat practice in was if she went out and picked fights, which was so stupid she barely gave the idea any thought. If one found her that was another thing, but violence like that could be traced back to the circus just as easily as stealing.

Sleight of hand tricks were likely the only way her fingers would remain dexterous enough for her main job. She had a semi-small selection of locks she practiced picking now and again, that changed as she found newer ones and discarded the simpler ones she had already learned by heart.

In four months the Storm-Cloud had learned to juggle and throw knives, some basic card tricks that she might be able to make a bit more impressive with Cloud Flames, and how to breathe fire.

Not because it was something she thought she could use, but because that was really freaking cool and Jaq's friend Faris didn't mind teaching her in return for some of her wine stash to supplement his supply.

Sonya might be a slight pyromaniac, given her fire ability and her willingness to use it.

The knife-throwing and juggling she incorporated into her gypsy girl costume, and the immediate downswing in how many leers and insulting propositions she got from local single men was gratifying. Faris had her help him out in a couple shows, mixing up the fuel that he lit on fire as needed instead of having a premade mix for every show limit his act.

Which was in truth lamp oil, not pure alcohol. The wine was just to mask the flavor and the bottle to deceive the audience about how it was possible, apparently.

Eh, still a cool skill.

She was in the middle of looking for more people to send Madam Crina's way for her day-job when Cherep sought her out.

He had a hopeful grin on his face that made her suspicious. "Think you could jump from a moving platform?"

"…probably, why?"

"How about a moving vehicle?"

"I've… never tried, so I don't know. Again, why?"

"Want to help me with a stunt? Master Liam said if I could impress him, he'd let me start doing stunts for the circus next year."

"So you want me…? To jump from the back of that motorcycle… on to what?"

"Not onto anything." The want-to-be stuntman informed her as if that was going to reassure her. "Up to one of the trapeze artists."

Sonya stared at him flatly as she tried to work that out in her head. "If I do this, it's cutting some time off how much I'm willing to be a circus performer."

"I just need you to do it once or twice, to convince the others it's not a really hard concept or trick."

Jumping off the back of a motorcycle and hoping someone caught her wasn't her idea of easy.

The Russian thief sighed and reassured herself that at least the practice parts would include every safety measure the circus used to safeguard their performers between shows. "When?"

"Once we reach Oslo, we're sticking it out for two weeks there."

That would… be in another month or so, as they were speeding through Norway and Sweden rather fast compared to how they went up Finland. Then again, it was fully summer now and it had been the mid to late parts of spring for when they were traveling north.

She shrugged off her misgivings, because this was what he'd need to avoid the mafia without an underworld criminal nearby to counter the attention any unconscious Flame usage would draw. "Alright, whatever. As long as I don't have to actually perform the damn stunt with you in front of a crowd, I'll help you out."

Cherep wasn't an overly muscled young man, it didn't seem as if Cloud Flame use would allow that, but he was strong enough to make her wheeze if he gave her a bear hug. "Thanks, Sonya."

"Just make sure to add into your calculations what the sudden downward force would do to your bike, and what the sudden loss of my weight would do to you. Please."

"How much do you weigh, exactly?"

His fellow Cloud felt perfectly justified punching him lightly in the gut. The grin he wore told her he knew asking would annoy her and did it anyways.