by Glen Cook
None of the Old Ones bullied the Aelen Kofer. Wise, considering survival was at stake.
The crown prince of the dwarves strutted around, eyeballing each Old One and middle-worlder. He got the cold eye from Piper Hecht, then a snicker.
“Something amusing you?”
“Your hair is on fire.”
“Yikes!” Smoldering because of a rogue slow match, Khor-ben Jarneyn was less intimidating than he hoped.
Jarneyn’s son dumped water on his father’s head. The indignity wrung the tension out of the moment.
Iron Eyes pretended amusement. “Heris. Girl. You’ve exceeded my expectations. You winkled them out and you tamed them. What were the odds?”
Copper said, “I knew you’d do it.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
Nothing of the sort had been in the younger dwarf’s mind. He sputtered like the match atop his helmet.
“Just messing with you. Iron Eyes, stop pretending to be some serious badass and help us get out of this dump before we starve.”
“Living on onions and beer? Sounds like paradise to me.”
“You’ve been listening at keyholes.”
Hecht was startled. That was daring. Iron Eyes had a real capacity to make her miserable. “Heris.”
“I know. I’ll stop, now.”
Iron Eyes said, “I apologize. I really didn’t think you’d get it under control.”
“We’re all set. Agreements are in place. In exchange for freedom the Shining Ones will help Piper. And, once they have their strength back, they’ll help with Kharoulke’s extended family. So. Talk to me about how to get home.”
“It’s pretty basic, my love. Same as when we opened the way for your elderly relative, before. Pack your bags and strap on your sea legs.”
“All right.” Heris started to rise.
“Let me look around first. Just to make sure everything is what it seems.”
“You’re the judge. You get to do whatever you want. That was our deal.”
“Such a mixture of temptation. Letting everything just fade away is huge. The Aelen Kofer would feel that some balance had been achieved. But we did make promises. Though we reserved the right to be flexible concerning our own survival.”
“But not so worried that somebody might recognize you as major bullshitters. Come on, Iron Eyes! I’ve seen you in action. I know what you’re up to.”
“You are a marvel, Heris. I do wish you had been born Aelen Kofer. I’d add you to my harem.”
“Pity, that.” As one of the squat and hairies delivered a solid punch to the crown prince’s left bicep. “But I’d insist on exclusive rights. So, we’re going sailing.”
“Rowing. It’s the only way.”
“A half truth but why cavil about paths through the world of the Aelen Kofer? I want to go home. Though I do have something to do before we go.” She left briskly. Iron Eyes exchanged interrogatory glances with the men around the table, then shrugged.
Heris came back with the soul eggs of the Trickster, Red Hammer, and Zyr. She fumbled them onto a table facing the Shining Ones, indicated which was which. “It’s possible I could restore these three. I’m the only one who can. I’ll hear arguments, for and against. I’ll keep in mind the characters of the individuals.” Not so subtly saying she was disinclined to hear support for the Trickster.
The gods had opinions. They expressed those, loudly.
“Stop!” Heris barked. “I don’t want a debate. We’ll vote. And I claim a vote for myself. First, Lucke. I vote for no mercy. The son of a bitch stays here.”
Six Old Ones agreed. Sprenghul and Fastthal dithered, then reluctantly agreed with the others.
Little patience was accorded them. They were the least of the rescued Instrumentalities.
“All right. Excellent. The Trickster stays.” She indicated the soul egg of the war god. “I have no opinion. I know nothing about him. I’ll vote only if there’s a tie.”
A tiebreaker was not needed. The quiet, no longer well-known Zyr was universally respected. His peers seemed to think he should take over as top deity. He was the eldest and wisest.
“Which leaves Red Hammer, no thinker or planner, which is why he ended up this way. I’ve heard the arguments about him. They don’t make me think that he won’t do something else deadly stupid if I restore him.”
The Old Ones voted. Three were in favor of restoration. Two were against it. Hourli and Hourlr abstained, as did Red Hammer’s stepdaughter, Aldi.
The rest did not care, one way or another.
Heris said, “I’ll stand with the nays. For now. Meaning we have a three way tie. Iron Eyes. Take care of Lucke and Red Hammer. Lucke to be left here. Red Hammer can go home with you and be preserved. And why do I see a gleam in your beady little eyes, all of a sudden?”
“Lucke at the mercy of the Aelen Kofer? When he has done so much evil to us? Priceless.”
“You can’t take revenge on him, Iron Eyes.”
“But…”
“To do that you’d need to restore him. That can’t happen. Avoiding any chance of a comeback is why I want to leave him here. If he leaves this world, sooner or later he’ll come into contact with people like those in the Connec who wanted to resurrect those Old Ones there.”
Iron Eyes gave these Old Ones an ugly look. “So you’ll lay it all off on me?”
“For now. One day when Red Hammer isn’t a danger anymore I’ll bring him back.”
Sheaf protested.
Heris told her, “Not for a while. I don’t want him coming out swinging again. Understand?”
Piper Hecht caught Februaren’s eye. His ancestor seemed astounded by the modern Heris, too.
* * *
A ship lay against the quay in the harbor. The derelict was a permanent fixture. It barely remained afloat. When the magic was strong, though, it became the golden barge of the gods.
Dwarf oarsmen drove the barge across the harbor till it encountered an invisible barrier. From the quay the view to seaward ended in fog. At the barrier, though, a good hard squint let a viewer see the middle world beyond: choppy, dark gray, frigid waters scattered with random chunks of ice calved not far to the north. This corner of the middle world had forsaken summer.
Iron Eyes told the Old Ones, “Brace yourselves. The middle-world magic isn’t strong anymore but what remains will bite sharper than anything you’ve tasted in years. Don’t lose yourselves when it hits you.”
Asgrimmur had assumed a solitary station aft. Hecht asked Heris, “Is he sulking?”
“He’s scared. He doesn’t want to walk the Construct again. Last time he nearly didn’t make it out the other end.”
“I know that terror.” His experiences had been soul-crushing. “Though it wasn’t so bad doing it in a big family glob. Tell him to fly. He’s got wings.”
“Good idea. Though he’d really like to get his human shape back.”
Iron Eyes and his crew worked on the gate to the middle world. Everyone recognized the instant the first gap opened.
The gods gasped. Several shrieked. Faint though it was, the magic tasted delicious.
“Easy!” Iron Eyes bellowed. “Don’t make me knock heads!”
The gods became restless but rationality survived. Iron Eyes went around reminding them that only patience would assure survival. The way had to be opened so the barge could pass through.
Threads of color raced through the harbor water. Golden light sparked on decomposing wood.
“And here we go,” Iron Eyes soon said. “Discipline couldn’t last.”
Several Old Ones abandoned human form to become gray mists that tangled and struggled to get to the magic.
“They’ll spread some terror round the islands where the mer live,” Februaren said.
The hunger overpowered several more. Heris said, “Let’s hope they remember their obligations.”
The opening of the way continued. Iron Eyes proceeded cautiously. Hecht asked, “You expecting trouble
?”
“After what Heris did to Kharoulke? With the obvious assistance of the Aelen Kofer? Why would I be careful sliding into his world? His ilk will want to make sure that never happens to them.”
“Can’t stop it now. The knowledge is loose. Not even God Himself can make it go away.”
Blasphemy! God could do anything. There were no limits on Him.
Hecht wanted to believe that. He could not. Not anymore.
“That truth won’t keep the primal Instrumentalities from trying, Commander of the Righteous.”
No doubt.
Asgrimmur came up to check the size of the opening as the last two Old Ones surrendered to their hunger. He raised a wing some, let it relax. “Almost time. Heris. Be careful making your transition.” He hopped onto the rail, balanced precariously, flung himself forward. He came within inches of ending up wet. He did dip each wing tip once before gaining altitude.
Hecht asked Heris, “There something going on between you two?”
“Not yet.”
“Heris!”
“I didn’t mean that the way you’re thinking. Though it wouldn’t be any of your damned business if I did.”
“Heris!” He tried out his boss male voice.
“Butt out, little brother. Or look forward to a long walk home. Shouldn’t take you more than three months if you survive the swim to Friesland.”
Februaren and Renfrow were amused but kept quiet.
Heris grumbled, “For thirty-eight years men told me what I could and couldn’t do. And I was miserable. That’s done. I’ll make my own misery, now, thank you very much.”
Februaren made a small gesture, out of her sight, suggesting that Hecht shut the hell up.
“As you will,” Hecht said, conceding her personal sovereignty, but confused by her desire.
Each time he thought he had adapted his new world smacked him with something else.
Iron Eyes shouted in the Aelen Kofer tongue. The oars backed water. The barge rotated, then surged through the gateway.
Even Piper Hecht felt the difference when the barge crossed over.
Renfrow was gone in seconds, by whatever means he used. That left only Piper Hecht and his hodgepodge family.
Heris asked, “Double Great, are you going with the rest of us? Or are you up to something of your own?”
Februaren’s answer seemed more calculated than it should have been. So Hecht thought.
“I have my own chores to attend. I’ll see you at the townhouse.” He vanished with an audible pop.
Heris told the others, “Get in here close, around Piper. Anna, you and Pella need to be in the middle, too. Lila and Vali, same as before. Piper, hang on to this.” She handed him the soul egg of Zyr, wrapped in Aelen Kofer cheesecloth.
He was startled by the weight. It was as heavy as iron. “What?”
“Just hang on to it. Going through. I’ll need my hands free. You drop it in transit, we’ll all end up sorry. Maybe. I can’t say for sure. I just know that I can’t take you home and mess with that at the same time. Pella. Come.”
The boy was admiring the cold Andorayan Sea and cliffs of ice to the north. His aunt had destroyed the Windwalker up there just a way.
Hecht shoved the egg inside his shirt, adjusting it securely.
Korban Iron Eyes shouted at his rowers to turn the barge. He meant to head right back into the Realm of the Gods.
The family Hecht clumped up. Iron Eyes said, “In a few hours there’ll be no more Nine Worlds. We’ll seal the Realm and let it die. Heris. Caution your ancestor against jumping in there again. He’ll die. There will be nothing left but the Trickster’s soul egg.”
“I’ll tell him, though I can’t imagine him wanting to go back.”
“It’s been a joy knowing you, Heris. Recall the Aelen Kofer well, with an occasional much of ale, if you can.”
Hecht grasped what Heris did not. Iron Eyes was saying goodbye forever. He meant to have no congress with the middle world henceforth. For him this was a chapter writ complete.
Hecht felt the soul egg. It now felt as heavy as a dozen bricks, and warm, but it was secure. He wrapped arms around Anna and Pella, who did the same to him. Heris and the girls squished in hard against the core threesome, holding onto one another as well.
The light went out for Piper Hecht.
10. Alten Weinberg: Fearful of Tomorrow
Empress Apparent Helspeth was depressed. She did not foresee a time when she might feel normal again. News of Katrin’s demise had not yet officially reached Alten Weinberg. Even so, the Empress-to-be felt the crushing weight of Empire. How much worse would that become once every greedy Elector and noble started bullying her?
Where were Ferris Renfrow and the Commander of the Righteous? Especially Piper Hecht? Algres Drear was fierce and tough but he was not enough.
“Hilda, why do I obsess about a man older than me and already taken?” Helspeth had confessed her uncontrollable interest in the Commander of the Righteous. Lady Hilda had not been surprised.
“Hardly uncontrollable, if painfully more obvious than you think,” Lady Hilda had told her. Now she said, “Maybe because you miss your father.”
“My father was still alive when I caught this fever.”
“Yes. I know. Plemenza.” Lady Hilda had heard it over and over once Helspeth opened up. “Why ask questions if you won’t listen to answers?” Lady Hilda returned to her needlework, almost sullenly, till, suddenly, she giggled.
“What?”
“You’ve had how many chances to make your fantasies come true since Katrin brought him here? But you’re still a virgin.”
“I’m not just me, Hilda. I’m a symbol. And a commodity.”
“I’ve heard it all. What the hell is she doing here?”
Hilda meant Lady Delta va Kelgerberg, whom she detested. The feeling was mutual. Va Kelgerberg had been one of Helspeth’s ladies, once upon a time, but had weaseled her way into Empress Katrin’s court.
“Whatever, she’s sure to be as unpleasant as possible.” Helspeth gloated secretly. In just a few days va Kelgerberg’s life would turn very difficult indeed. In just a few days her harvest would begin to come in.
Helspeth had no immediate opportunity to find out why Lady Delta had appeared. Algres Drear intervened. “Your Majesty.”
“Captain?” Drear needed schooling on etiquette, especially in front of her women. A half dozen of those sat around the big room, every one a spy for her husband or lover. Or for both.
“Ferris Renfrow begs an audience. I know you like to hear his reports as soon as possible.”
“Since he’s seldom seen these days I should seize the opportunity. Hilda, see to Lady Delta, in the annex, then post yourself at a distance so I can see Renfrow privately without my reputation being sullied.”
Muttering, “I’ll take care of va Kelgerberg!” Lady Hilda did as asked. She had chaperoned Helspeth’s meetings before. The Princess Apparent’s enemies tried to make something of those but the charges only elicited mockery and disdain. Alten Weinberg knew Helspeth Ege too well.
Renfrow came in as Lady Hilda herded the other women out. Lady Delta was furious because Renfrow had been given precedence. Drear posted himself just inside the door. He, too, would stand witness to Helspeth’s prudent behavior.
Helspeth told the chief Imperial spy, “Yet again you arrive looking like you’re fresh from work on a hog farm. I cannot imagine how it would harm you to indulge in the occasional bath.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Your Grace. But I’m here, now. Can we retire to a quiet room?”
“No. The only one handy is being rebuilt. I took your advice, had them inspected. They all leaked. I’ve ordered them rehabilitated. If they still leak afterward I’ll have some necks stretched.”
“Good, if inconvenient now.” Renfrow produced a doeskin sack, shook out its contents. Black beads scattered, opened up like sow bugs. Many-legged black things scooted around, looking for invisible eavesdroppers. “Wh
en your workmen tell you they’re done, I’ll do the follow-up examination.”
“I’ll mention that. For now, your bugs should hold the Night at bay. So. What’s so important this time?”
“Not as big a wow as you becoming Empress, but you should know. Remember the rules. No interruptions. But I will answer questions once I’m done. If they’re pertinent.”
“When have I ever been impertinent?” She considered Captain Drear and Lady Hilda, by the door. And wondered if Hilda had added Drear to her list of conquests.
“You have a point.” Renfrow considered the chaperoning pair, too. His thoughts were not obvious.
Renfrow told the tale of his adventure into another world, where he had met gods the Church insisted did not exist along with creatures from fairy tales: dwarves and the mer, who lived in the sea.
Helspeth was fascinated by the mer Philleas Pescatore, who had had so obvious an impact on Renfrow’s libido. “She was a virgin every time she took human form so she could leave the water?” How handy a skill would that be?
“Yes. Questions after.” He went on.
Helspeth noted the filthy bandage on his left wrist.
“The Commander of the Righteous has a sister?” She zeroed in on the personal part of the story.
“If I pulled the evidence together correctly, he does. And their father was a Brotherhood general named Grade Drocker. Who, in turn, was the illegitimate son of Principaté Muniero Delari, one of the most powerful members of the Collegium.”
“I met him when we were in Brothe.”
“I expect you did. Principaté Delari, in turn, appears to be the grandson of Cloven Februaren, known as the Ninth Unknown. Februaren was there for everything. A remarkable character. And a sorcerer of considerable stature who hides it well.”
“I know someone else like that.”
“You do. Though it does get more difficult to do every day. The woman, Heris, called him Double Great, apparently because he’s the grandfather of her grandfather. She and the Commander’s adopted daughters have developed remarkable talents. Hecht and the boy, Pella, remain ciphers, however.”
Helspeth was not happy about the Commander of the Righteous having daughters, adopted or not, though he had not concealed that. Renfrow’s story made the girls more real.