Reality's Plaything 4: Savants Ascendant

by Will Greenway

  She turned her hand over and looked at what Wysteri had thrown. It was a hardened cork ball flattened on one side. They were used around the quarters usually to keep parchments from blowing around.

  “That would have hurt,” Sarai growled.

  Bannor looked at Sarai’s hand. “That was damn fast. Too fast for me to even see it.”

  She looked at him and then at the ball. “I didn’t even think about it.”

  “What Mercedes was proud of was the various subtle refinements and touches in the overall design. For instance, which is better; resisting damage or avoiding it altogether?”

  “Avoiding it, of course,” Sarai answered.

  “Hence, the design decision to favor speed over durability. It is an Elven hallmark anyways, correct?”

  Sarai’s brow furrowed. “Yes.”

  “Our shared consideration was to embrace what you are, a gray elf noble, so your abilities should distinguish you as a paradigm of Elves—not some other species.”

  His fiancé tossed the ball back to Wysteri, who put it back in the drawer. “Okay, you made your point. So, what else?”

  “This form has a strong natural telepathic ability. You will still have to be trained, but once you are, you will be able to communicate freely as much of the Felspar family already does. We set up an affinity between yourself and your baby. Once she is old enough to form images and understand concepts you should be able to communicate with her.”

  Sarai’s eyes widened. “Speak with my unborn baby?”

  “Yes,” Wysteri answered with a nod. “Mercedes and I discussed this at length. It is something the Felspars have been doing with their children, essentially beginning their baby’s education even before they are born.”

  His fiancé blinked. “That’s—possible?”

  “Of course,” Wysteri glanced between the two of them. “We also took some pains to make the childbirth itself less traumatic for you and the baby.”

  “You mean besides these hips?” Sarai asked patting her thighs.

  “Yes,” the healer responded. “Sarai, do you know much about childbirth?”

  “Not a lot—no. Elves don’t have many children.”

  “Well, think of the size of a new born, and think of the size of the cavity through which you must push it.”

  She swallowed. “I’d rather not.”

  “That tissue does stretch some, but rarely is a woman able to accommodate the baby’s girth during their first pregnancy. Without treatment, the baby tears that tissue when it is forced out.”

  Bannor cringed. “Ow.”

  Sarai winced.

  “Because that tearing is so unpleasant, and takes a long time to heal, experienced midwifes will perform what is called an episiotomy.”

  “An episa-what?” Bannor repeated.

  “It’s an incision to widen the opening so that it doesn’t tear during childbirth.”

  His wife-to-be shuddered. That didn’t sound pleasant at all.

  “So,” Sarai said slowly. “You have a way around that?”

  “Indeed. This body will not require such measures, nor will you scar. In fact, one of the finer points of this body is that none of your wounds will leave a lasting mark. While you won’t heal as fast as a true immortal, you will recover from injury at an accelerated pace. You will fatigue more slowly and require a relatively small amount of time to recuperate.”

  The princess drew a breath. “All right, I need to apologize for what I was thinking. Obviously, a lot of thought went into this.”

  “Yes, and there’s many more subtle things that you will grow to appreciate later. I leave them for you to discover.” She pressed her hands together. “I trust you are satisfied now?”

  “It seems so. And I can carry the baby to term without anymore hassles?”

  “No hassles, no special treatments. Your body will actually be generating and storing surplus biophase energy, the results of which you can feel.”

  Sarai drew a breath and nodded.

  “Despite that,” Wysteri was quick to amend. “You should still consult with me or another physician at least once a scoreday in case there are unforeseen complications.”

  “Understood.”

  Wysteri came and put a hand on Sarai’s arm. “I need to go tend to Mercedes now. Unless there is something else?”

  “No, this is fine. Thank you, Wysteri. Actually, it’s better than fine, and tell Mercedes thank you as well. We will thank her ourselves later when she’s feeling better.”

  Wysteri smiled and nodded. She went to the back of the room and retrieved Sarai’s shaladen, and jewelry. After Sarai had replaced the equipment she led them back out to the infirmary, opening and closing the solid wall. She bid them good night and hurried up the corridor.

  They stood shoulder to shoulder looking down the corridor, now empty, even the mecha’s footsteps were no longer audible.

  “We’re alone,” Bannor said.

  “Yes, we are,” Sarai said with a grin. She put her arm around his waist and pulled close. Her skin was warm and supple.

  He leaned in and brought his lips down to hers. She pulled into him with a hungry kiss. She tasted sweet and felt more vibrant that he had ever recalled.

  “Mmmm,” she said. “You taste good.”

  “So do you.” He bent and nibbled at the delicate tip of one of her pointed ears.

  She leaned away, still grinning at him. “None of that now.” She looked around. “We should find some quarters.”

  “Should we go back to Green Run?”

  Sarai shook her head. “No, it’s outside of the shield they put around the main citadel. To be safe, we should probably use my old chambers in the western extension. They haven’t been used in a long time, but I’m certain the stewards have kept them clean.”

  Arm in arm they moved down the hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing on the dark stone. Sarai leaned her head against him, pulling close.

  They turned into the main audience chamber and crossed to the far side. As they headed toward western exit, Bannor saw a figure silhouetted in the flickering torchlight against the wall.

  Arms folded, Senalloy leaned back against the stone. She looked up at their approach, and pushed to her feet. The big Baronian ran a hand through her silver hair.

  She tilted her head. “So, this is the new Sarai?”

  “The new old me,” Sarai said, grinning.

  The elder raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down. “I’d say there’s been some—augmenting going on.”

  Sarai frowned. “Wysteri said it was necessary for the baby.”

  “Did she?” Senalloy chuckled. “Are you planning on having two?”

  His fiancé’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  The big woman rolled her eyes. “I was teasing.”

  Sarai sniffed. “Well, it’s not funny. I wasn’t happy about it.”

  “You should be, women on worlds where I’ve visited pay large sums of money to get that done.” She shook her head. “And it’s not even natural.”

  “There are a lot of crazy people in this universe,” Sarai said with a sigh.

  “True enough I suppose,” Senalloy agreed. “So, everything is all right with the baby?”

  “We are good.”

  “Glad to hear that,” the warrior woman said with a nod. “Your sisters wanted me to check up on you. From the looks of things, you are doing better than all right.”

  “I am feeling marvelous actually,” Sarai said. “If anyone wants us we’ll be in my quarters in the west extension.”

  Senalloy bowed. “Very good. I am making the rounds before finding myself someplace to sleep.”

  Sarai leaned her head to one side. “You aren’t sleeping with Corim?”

  The Baronian laughed. “If the boy woke up next to me, his heart would stop.”

  “Doesn’t he care for you?” Sarai asked. “Doesn’t he know how much you care about him?”

  The woman shrugged. “He only has eyes
for Dulcere. I suppose he’ll wake up eventually.”

  “Lady Senalloy,” Bannor said. “You’re far too vibrant and too beautiful to be alone.”

  Senalloy shifted forward reached out and touched Bannor’s cheek. She tilted her head to one side. “It’s hard when all the good ones seem to be taken.” Her violet eyes met Sarai’s. “Timing is everything, I guess.”

  Sarai put her arm around Bannor in what was a not so subtle gesture of ownership. He pulled her close. “Thinking of good ones,” Sarai said rubbing her throat. “Perhaps you should cast your eye on Wren’s brother.”

  The Baronian lady raised an eyebrow. “Azir?” She pursed her lips. “He is fairly attractive. Not as pretty as my Corim though.”

  “He’s also not in love with some Kriar lady.”

  She pushed a hand through her silver hair. “That is a big plus.” She sighed. “Well, I won’t keep you two. I need to make sure things are secure. Rest up. I have no idea when next something will come at us—or if they’ve already given up.”

  “Take care, Lady Senalloy,” Bannor said.

  “Good night,” Sarai added.

  The started down the corridor and Sarai glanced over her shoulder toward where Senalloy had gone. “It is a shame she doesn’t have someone.”

  “I think she’s infatuated with an idea,” he said. “As I understand it, Corim freed her from slavery, he’s her hero.”

  Sarai looked up at him. “It is rather romantic to be rescued.” She pressed against him. “I should know.”

  He sighed. “It’s less romantic when I’m usually the reason you need to be rescued.”

  She shoved against him. “Sometimes, something—someone—is worth taking a risk.”

  After a short walk down the western corridor, they found Sarai’s old chambers. She opened the polished scale-wood door, letting torchlight into the sizeable chamber, which as Sarai assumed, had been kept clean. The appointments were not as complete as those in Green Run, but the bed looked comfortable, if a little small. After getting used to the huge thing that Sarai slept in now, everything seemed small except perhaps sleeping in the middle of a field.

  Sarai walked in, examining the area. She uncapped the mage lights and walked around in the space running her hand along dressers and cabinets, and finally stopping in front of huge blood-wood wardrobe. She opened it up and thumbed through the many dresses, gowns, and blouses.

  Pulling out a dark blue blouse she pulled it to her shoulders and draped it down her torso. She looked down and frowned. “Not going to work.”

  He put hands on hips. “Like anything was going to fit valkyrie Sarai? Any of that clothing have wing holes?”

  “It’s still annoying,” she said with a sniff.

  “You know, I think you just enjoy fussing sometimes. If you didn’t like trying on clothes and having new ones made, you wouldn’t have so many.”

  She put the blouse back in the wardrobe and turned to him with folded arms. “Fussing?”

  “Fussing,” he said. He came and put his arms around her and kissed her on the neck. “I think that’s your way of saying ‘give me attention’.”

  Sarai hummed for a moment reaching up to pull him close then stopped. She flicked the metal plate on his shoulder. “Take off that armor, would you?”

  He smiled. “As you command, Arminwen.”

  Bannor took his time, releasing each strap and clip, and pulling off each piece of the Kriar battle raiment. Arms folded, head tilted, Sarai studied his every movement.

  When he was down to nothing but the thin black stocking identical to what Sarai was dressed in he looked at his wife-to-be. “Anything else?”

  She smiled and made a coming gesture with her finger. “Now, kiss me.”

  He stepped over, put his arms around her and put his lips to hers. It made a warm tingle go through him. She pulled back a little and put her cheek against his chest. He rubbed her back.

  “Bannor,” she said after a few moments.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have to go back to the old body?”

  He felt a little chill in his stomach. “I should. Besides, it’s not really my body. It’s just my tao inside of something Marna made. My real shape is asleep in stasis on Homeworld. I don’t think I can stay this way forever.”

  “Wysteri could make your old body like this though, right?”

  Bannor sighed. “Probably.”

  “I don’t know why, I just feel safe when you hold me.”

  “Didn’t you before?”

  “Yes, but not like now. There is another thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Like Wysteri said, I am a gray elf.” She snuggled her face against his chest. “Ryelle had her first millennium birthday a few scoredays ago. Both my mother and father are double that age. Do either of them look like they are slowing down to you, Bannor?”

  “Not hardly,” he said.

  “Bannor, I have seen you defeat gods and look death in the eye and survive.” She looked up into his eyes. “But there’s one opponent you can never beat and that is time.”

  He drew a breath. “I thought you were okay with me being just a short lived human.”

  “Bannor, to be honest, I never thought we would have children. It is so hard for Elves to conceive. Don’t you want to see our daughter grow up?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “How? She will be fifty summers getting through school.”

  “Well…” His voice trailed off. He didn’t know any eighty summer old men, much less any spry enough to mentor children.

  Sarai didn’t say anything she just stared at him with those expressive violet eyes.

  “Star, I would stay with you the rest of your days if I could, you know that…”

  Hands on his shoulders, she kept her gaze on him, expression smooth.

  “And I guess I can do that if I… cheat.”

  She raised an eyebrow, but that was the only change in her expression.

  “Okay, it’s possible, and we can do it… but this body,” he put a hand on his chest. “It’s too much.”

  “Too much what?” Sarai said.

  He rocked his head back. “I am dangerous.” He insisted.

  “Bannor, the only danger I sense is to our enemies. As I said in the hall I feel safe with you, not only because you will protect me, but because nothing can take you away.”

  He dropped to his knees, and put his arms around her waist, and pressed his cheek against her chest. Sarai put a hand behind his back and pushed her fingers through his hair.

  “Star,” he breathed. “I am scared. Being like this scares me.”

  “My One,” she cooed. “What of? You have been in such control. I have watched you. In fact, you seem more careful, more thoughtful. Mother, Ryelle and even Janai mentioned how focused and confident you seem.”

  “Of course I’m confident, I’m a frelling god.” He gritted his teeth knowing how crazy—how arrogant—that sounded. “That Baronian soldier stuck a pace of sword in me and all I did was growl at him and break his neck.”

  “And you’re still with me,” Sarai moaned. “That’s the part I care about.” She pulled him tight against her. “Bannor, you have always had a terrible horrific potential to do harm. On a few occasions you have, but never with malicious intent. You are a good and honorable man, and the very first thing you did when you got that power was come halfway across the universe to protect me. I don’t think there’s anything you could say that could convince me you would ever do me harm.”

  He just pushed against her. “Star, can I think about it? Maybe something else?”

  “That’s fine, my One. I don’t want you uncomfortable and I don’t want you to worry. I just want you to stay with me and I want you to be safe.”

  He nodded, still hugging the warmth of her body. He straightened up and looked around. “You know we slept all afternoon. We just ate and I don’t feel tired. What are we going to do until morning?”

  Sarai smil
ed and ran a hand through his hair and gave him a slow lingering kiss. “We’ll think of something.”

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Strategic Withdrawal

  « ^ »

  My first meeting with Bannor Starfist was under less than friendly terms. My youngest daughter, in a fit of rebellion had slipped out of Malan to avoid an arranged marriage. When we finally caught up to her, we discovered that she had been living with Bannor. I was less than pleased. Not long after the fall of Hecate, I discovered she was pregnant. He has perchance for trouble, that boy. Still, he attracts power the same way he does problems. The allies that have rallied around us are phenomenal and we are in their graces largely because of his involvement and those he has inspired with his admittedly heroic spirit…

  —Jhaan T’Evagduran,

  King of Malan

  Bannor blinked. He stared up into the dark room. Only starlight from the window, and the sliver of torchlight from the hall coming under the door provided any illumination. Next to him, Sarai lay tangled in the sheets, silvery-blonde hair spilling across her face. Her chest rose and fell with the steady rhythm of deep slumber. He glanced to the window. The darkness of night was just beginning to fade. With the windows facing west, it would be bells before any morning light entered this room.

  Something woke him. Had it been a sound? Or a sense? In this body, his awareness was so much wider and more sensitive. Unfortunately, his senses had become so acute he now deliberately filtered his perceptions to keep from drowning in sensory information. Still, he felt certain that the feel of the citadel had changed.

  He slipped out of bed, and pulled on the black body-stocking. He belted on the holster for the Mark VI, and picked up his axes. Padding across to the door he paused to listen.

  Nothing.

  Whatever he’d sensed wasn’t nearby.

  He drew a breath, feeling a surge of strength swell through his limbs. He pulled the door open and slipped into the chilly air of the corridor. He took a dozen steps back toward the main hall and hunkered down close to the stone, hands splayed flat against the surface.