by Pam Uphoff
Hell's house was full to the brim again, little kids running everywhere, pursued by good looking witches.
Doing a headcount, Xen realized that half the witches were still missing.
"They all pop in occasionally, but tend to find excuses to go elsewhere." Hell spoke from behind him. "But I've managed to make my peace with most of my witches."
"Excellent, and I haven't killed any people yet. Or any more pets, although I came close once."
"Heh. My lawyer beat you here this morning. I'm being sued by everyone who has been injured in the City for the last ten days. And the relatives of everyone who died. And the merchants who lost money, were robbed, got mad and fired their entire staffs . . . He says I won't have to pay for anything but the dog attacks, as the rest are absurd."
"Excellent."
"Yeah. I may consider buying an island a bit further out in the bay though."
"The witches haven't convinced you to open a Corridor to a tropical island yet?"
Hell blinked at him. "How do you get a Corridor all the way from a tropical island to here? Spend months sailing?"
"Nah, you hire someone to sail one end of corridor down to about where you want to be. Pop in occasionally and sail around looking at islands. When you find the right island, you shift the corridor from the ship to the island. I stuck my end of the corridor at the back of a closet, so I can lock the door and not worry about little kids toddling through and getting lost. In fact, I've got quite a large island, that, as far as I know, no one owns. You can run a Corridor to it, too, if you'd like."
"You youngsters are . . . " he paused and thought for a long moment. Snorted. "Just like youngsters when I grew up. But we mostly wanted cars so we could drive to the Mall or the Water Park." He started laughing. "You've got so many techniques now . . . I wonder what else we could duplicate, magically."
Xen scratched his chin. "Razors. I hate shaving, and always do it magically. I have no idea how to apply that to a device anyone could use. My grandmother is trying to figure out how to fly."
"Airplane or magic carpet?"
"Hot air dirigible."
His eyebrows rose. "Right. Keep the hot air hot magically. Push or pull, or influence the winds. That's absolutely marvelous."
"She's trying something with gravity, too. Granddad is throwing fits, and claiming she's trying to commit suicide. She's also trying to figure out how to keep helium in a bag."
"And not trying Hydrogen?"
"Well, Grandmother's partner in adventure has a natural tendency to attract lightning."
"Oops."
Trump walked over and raised an eyebrow. "You look like you are plotting something devilish."
Hell grinned. "Indeed. And I'm going to surprise and delight you with one of them in a few days. The other may take a little longer."
"And you, Xen?"
"I've changed a bunch of things. Umm, if I may substitute something much safer?"
"Certainly." She pulled out the mental box and eyed the new spells. "Now Inky said something about how you hadn't killed anyone? Why are you trying it out on other people. Shouldn't I be the one taking the risk." She locked eyes with Hell and stared him down.
"It's the collective subconscious, I think. I was mobbed by a dozen elderly people who insisted that I give it to them right now. But I escaped from them. That time."
Her eyes narrowed. "Are you talking about my vagrants?"
"Yes ma'am."
She turned and stalked through the Corridor. Hell and Xen followed, then Inky and Beige.
Trump walked over to the old folk. "Are you all right Mary? I can't believe you would try to get that boy to test his spells on you."
Mary cackled. "Now wouldn't I be a fool to leave him a choice! Oh, he's a smart one, he is." she cackled. "We'll get it next time."
"Hey." One of the old men tottered up. "Where's our elixir? My knees are killing me."
"I think . . ."
"Oh yeah?" More old people joined them. Surrounded them.
"We're too old to wait."
"We've waited all summer."
Xen started edging back toward the corridor.
"Oh no you don't sonny." A short broad woman blocked him. "Now what's this, eh?" She reached right into his bubble pack."
"You can't do that! I mean, you shouldn't . . . Good grief, you're a wizard, aren't you?" Xen grabbed for the bottle and got his hand slapped.
Two doddery old men shoved between him and the woman.
Xen paused in horror. I can't beat them up! I'd kill them!
"Miss Nettie!" Trump pushed, steadied the man she'd nearly knocked over.
Hell was snickering. "It's too late. I shouldn't have come through with you."
Xen spotted the bottle, being upended, passed around . . . "Oh . . . words fail me. I really hope these ladies and gentlemen deserve youth, health and longevity." He reached over a shoulder and snatched the bottle.
The oldsters eyed him with disfavor and they wandered back to whatever they had been doing. Apparently they had all gotten a dose.
"I'll keep checking on them." Xen tried to keep the whimper out of his voice.
"Humph." Trump held her hand out for the bottle. "That'll teach you to get assigned to fix the God of Just Deserts."
Xen nodded. "Just add more ordinary wine, and I've got versions for dogs and horses as well. And . . . No offense, Hell, but . . . did I deserve that?"
Hell just grinned. "I suspect you were being too cautious and hesitant. Now about the dogs?"
"Please, why don't we wait a year and see how my three do before we dose yours?"
"An excellent idea." Hell offered his elbow to Trump and escorted her back through the corridor.
Xen settled down where he could watch the old folks.
Two hours later, Pig came flying out of the corridor. Grinning. Running away. Trump stalked though and glared from dog to master. "He was humping the girl dog statues. If that works, you get the puppies."
Xen looked back at the old men and women. "They look good. The first gene should be done. I'll check them at sunset, when the next gene swap kicks in. If puppies are the worst that happens, I'll happily take them."
Four days later, he realized it was done. Not a single death.
It works. Old Gods, am I a fool, to do this, to change everything?
He took a last look at the healthy spry oldsters, who would soon be growing young, and headed for a wine shop. Time to make a lot more.
Chapter Eleven
A year and a half later, Trump stood naked in front of the mirror, and admitted that she felt even better than she looked. Energetic and young. She leaned close. Her skin was tight and clear under the eyes, scalp showing the prickles of new hair growth, thickening it.
Movement in the mirror drew her eyes to Hell, leaning hesitantly in the doorway.
"You do realize, don't you, that all the weird things that happen because of this are all going to be your fault." She turned around and checked her rear. No sags.
"Yes. People have been dying of old age just about forever." Her favorite god walked over and wrapped his arms around her. "And people just accepted it."
She smiled. "I think I need to visit Sandy's store."
She could feel his chuckle. "Do I get to vote on whether you are allowed off the island in whatever scandalous garment you two come up with?"
"Certainly not!"
"My Trump. I love you."
About the Author
I was born and raised in California, and have lived more than half my life, now, in Texas.
Wonderful place. I caught almost the first bachelor I met here, and we’re coming up on our thirty-fifth anniversary.
My degree's in Geology. After working for an oil company for almost ten years as a geophysicist, I “retired” to raise children. As they grew, I added oil painting, sculpting and throwing clay, breeding horses, volunteering in libraries and for the Boy Scouts, and treasurer for a friend’s political campaign. Sometime in those bu
sy years, I turned a love of science fiction into a part time job reading slush (Mom? Someone is paying you to read??!!)
I've always written, published a few short stories. But now that the kids have flown the nest, I'm calling writing a full time job.
Empire is my twelfth novel. I've also issued three collections of novellas and short stories, and published separately three other short stories.
I'm planning to bring out at least four more books this year. Two of them are manuscripts that I've pulled out the batch making the rounds of publishers, so they should go up quickly. I've got two new books in the Wine of the Gods Universe under way. And then a third "Zoey Ivers" book in the Doors series. So I may manage to squeak in a fifth book before the end of the year.
I need to find the time to get more books out in print, out to Kobo, Sony, B&N . . . I need to find the time to invent a time machine . . .
Email [email protected] to join the mailing list for notifications of new releases
Other Books by Pam Uphoff
Wine of the Gods Series:
Outcasts and Gods
Exiles and Gods (Three Novellas)
The Black Goats
Explorers
Spy Wars
Comet Fall
A Taste of Wine (Seven Tales)
Dark Lady
Growing Up Magic (Four Novellas)
Young Warriors
God of Assassins
Empire of the One
Warriors of the One
Dancer
Earth Gate
The Lawyers of Mars
Fancy Free
Writing as Zoey Ivers
YA Cyberpunk Adventures:
The Barton Street Gym
Chicago
Atlantis (2016)
Fantasy:
Demi God