There was a heavy silence among the three of us as I sat there trying to digest everything my parents had just told me. I didn’t have much of an appetite anymore, but cold bacon was still bacon, so I forced myself to take another bite.

  I was mid-chew when Dad suddenly stood up, his chair scraping back across the floor. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone etched with a glowing rune. It pulsed with bright light, vibrating in his hand.

  “Something big is trying to get into the barn,” he said. His voice was calm, but sharp. He crossed the room in three long steps, grabbed the sword mounted above the fireplace, and slung it over his shoulder. The blade was nearly four feet long, double-edged, and dark as obsidian. Dad gave Mom a look I didn’t understand and then ran out the door.

  Mom moved instantly. She snatched up a heavy metal pot near the freezer, placed a hand on it, and it rippled like warm wax. In a heartbeat, she pulled it apart and reshaped it into a tower shield taller than she was. She guided me into the corner farthest from the windows and braced the shield against the ground in front of us.

  “Stay behind me, Jude,” she said. “It’s probably nothing serious, but the rune stone was reacting too strongly. That means whatever is out there is either very large or very aggressive. It could be after the chickens or the goat.”

  I swallowed hard. “Dad can handle anything though, right?”

  Mom smiled, but it was the kind of smile adults use when they don’t want to scare you. “Your father is strong. But the first rule of Monster Hunting is simple. Never underestimate anything. It’s better to laugh later about being overprepared than to barely survive.”

  We waited for what felt like an hour, though it was probably only a few minutes. Mom’s stance didn’t waver once. She was made of iron. I kept trying to peek around the shield, but pushing against her was like trying to budge a boulder. My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.

  Then the door opened.

  Dad stepped inside, covered in an oily black sludge. Blood streaked down both his arms, and his sleeves were torn. He was breathing heavily.

  “It’s done,” he said. “But it got me good. Some kind of spider creature. I left it out back. Can you grab a potion, honey? I need to wash this stuff off.”

  Mom lowered the shield and quickly reshaped it back into the heavy pot before setting it beside the freezer. She squeezed my shoulder and said softly, “I’m going to help clean him up. Give yourself a minute. Eat a little more. Even cold, breakfast is better than nothing.”

  She headed outside, and for a moment I just stood there staring at the empty corner where the shield had been. Then curiosity got the better of me. I crouched down and tried to lift the pot she had reshaped.

  Nothing. I couldn’t even lift one side of it.

  “This thing must weigh over a hundred pounds,” I muttered. “She held it like it was nothing.”

  I wasn’t sure if I felt impressed or slightly terrified.

  After nibbling a few more bites, I stepped outside. Dad was already sitting in the wash tub, the water around him stained gray and black from the monster’s ichor. Mom handed him a small red vial. He uncorked it, grimaced, and swallowed it in one gulp.

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  His whole face twisted. “I will never get used to how foul these health potions taste. They cost a fortune, they never work as well as you want, and they taste like spoiled mud.”

  Mom laughed, relieved. “Well, I’m glad we still had a couple.”

  “Jude,” she called, holding up the leather case of red vials. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

  I walked over, and she opened the case.

  “These are health potions,” she said. “Your father took some real hits from that monster. Since he’s an Integrated Warrior, he has a health pool. I do too. Health and Mana both recover naturally over time, but your health pool is what keeps you from dying. A wound to your heart or brain can be deadly, but if you take a rough wound to the arm or leg, as long as you have health in your health pool, even just one percent left, it will regenerate slowly. Or much quicker with a healing ability or a health potion like this.”

  She held up one of the vials of red fluid between her fingers.

  “Right now, if you fell and broke your arm, you’d feel every bit of the pain. And you would need weeks or months to heal. A healing spell wouldn’t work on you at all. An un-Integrated child can’t receive Mana-based healing. Your body has nothing to anchor it to.”

  I blinked. “So… Integration and a health pool gives you the ability to recover injuries?”

  Mom nodded. “A very big one. For Integrated warriors and mages, damage received reduces your health pool first. It dulls the pain a bit, softens the wounds, and lets you recover quickly. And a potion like this can restore a chunk of it instantly. Some abilities restore health too, but those are rare. Potions exist because most people can’t rely on natural healers and you need to heal in the midst of a battle.”

  Dad snorted from the tub. “And they taste worse than monster guts.”

  Mom rolled her eyes and continued. “Now, about attributes. Every Integrated person has five main ones. Strength, Dexterity, Vitality, Intelligence, and Wisdom.”

  She held up her fingers one by one.

  “Strength increases your physical power, how hard you hit, how much you can lift, and how hard you are to push around.”

  “Dexterity increases your speed, reaction time, balance, and precision.”

  “Vitality increases your whole health pool, your resistances, and how quickly your health recovers.”

  “Intelligence determines how efficient and potent your abilities are. A higher Intelligence means your abilities hit harder or function better for less Mana.”

  “Wisdom increases your maximum Mana pool and how quickly it comes back.”

  She lowered her hand.

  “Warriors naturally grow faster in Strength and Vitality. Mages naturally grow faster in Intelligence and Wisdom. But everyone grows in all attributes each time they level.”

  Dad leaned back in the tub with a grin. “Look at this.” He held up one arm. In the short time since he drank the potion, the gashes on it had already closed into thick, dried scabs. As he flexed his bicep.

  “The Interface gives us the power to heal fast and fight hard,” he said. “Otherwise humanity wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  He motioned behind him with his thumb.

  “And look at the thing I took down. Pretty neat, huh?”

  I peeked around him. Lying in the dirt was a creature shaped like a spider, but wrong in every possible way. Its legs were jointed like blades, sixteen of them, each sharp enough to slice through wood. Its shell looked like metal, but not metal I recognized. It wasn’t fully machine or fully insect. It was something in between.

  “We’re bringing that thing with us to Hawthorn tomorrow,” Dad said. “I bet some mage will pay good coin for the parts.”

  Mom sighed and steered me back toward the house.

  “Well,” she said, “this wasn’t how we planned to teach you about Integration… but I suppose seeing a real battle and a real recovery is as practical as a lesson gets.”

  She reshaped her shield back into the pot with a touch and set it neatly beside the freezer.