by Pam Uphoff
There was light inside showing the big high ceilinged room. Bronzed statues, paintings on the walls, a broad curving staircase leading upward . . . no movement, no sign of Art, or Eden. The only other egress in sight was an unobtrusive door, painted to match the walls. Servants' door? Or just, kitchen, bedroom and so forth. Or does the god live upstairs? Damn it, I should have gotten Simon to describe it all.
Xen tried the doors. They wouldn't budge.
Grace wiggled over to them. "He opens them with something like this." She glowed brightly for a minute.
Xen pushed, shook his head and pulled. The door opened and they all slid in, relieved to be away from the suffocating . . .
" . . . No! I don't care about your logical constructions. The kingdom is already fairly democratized, and moving toward more. It's not going to bow down to a tyrant." Eden's voice, distant, but clear in the hush.
Xen drifted toward the stairs.
Staven motioned the others to stay and followed, keeping well back from the wizard.
A masculine voice. "And I don't care about your independence and rebellion. The boys will be Crown and Spear, and I will be the power behind the throne. Democracy! What idiot has been feeding you this rubbish!"
"Lady Gisele is not an idiot. You are dangerously naïve to think you can just take over. There is a huge support structure for the royals, and you won't be able to force your way in, no matter how much magic you use. If you had just . . . restrained yourself in Karista, you could have become part of the Kingdom. But you just couldn't resist rape, could you? Lord Hell's daughter! What were you thinking?"
Atta girl! Keep his attention!
"I am a god. I can do anything I want."
A quick glance behind. Mihaela was hovering halfway between him and the doors . . . looking over her shoulder at Simon and River as they looked though the small side door, now open. No sign of Grace.
He flicked a look at the stairs. I have a wizard and we know where the god is . . . and my favorite witch ought to stay as far away from the fight as possible. He backed up to Mihaela. "Take a very fast look, in case the twins are in there, then get out of the museum. I suspect Xen and I may be running for it, and I need you to be out of here."
She nodded and slipped away.
"You are Marty Beta. A genetically engineered experiment. You have no inborn right to rule. You have the right to live, to strive, to make a place for yourself, here and now."
"How dare you! I created you . . . "
"Raped my mother."
"I formed you."
"Imprinted stolen memories into my brain."
Xen backed away from the stairs, and stepped close to Staven. His voice was a bare breath. "I can make us invisible, get us up there, and get us in between them. At which point it's going to get nasty. You grab Eden and the kids and run for it. I'm going to try to block Art, take down his outer bubble and yell for help."
"He'll escape."
"He can't travel from inside the bubble. I just have to keep him too busy to concentrate, once it's down."
Staven nodded. The world turned an odd squirming gray, dim and barely visible.
"Stay close behind me. This is a small area effect." Xen turned and headed for the stairs.
"That was the only way to be sure you got the right ones. I thought I'd gotten obedience in there as well, but it seems to have evaporated over the last year and a half. That's going to have to be changed. Do I actually have to tell you to avoid the witches?"
Staven was right on his heels. The argument upstairs was getting hot. And damn the over sized wizard, he could barely see around him . . . there was Art, looming, just a few feet away from Eden. Getting in between them wasn't going to be easy.
"There's no point in you saying it. The Eldest is not a nice person, on top of being a bit possessive and over protective of her pyramid."
Xen stepped around behind them and looked around the room. Nudged Staven toward the next sweep of stairs.
Staven followed. We have to find the boys, get them out of here.
The next floor was even larger, but open enough to show a lack of twin toddlers. They walked back down.
Art was laughing. "You think I am afraid of an old witch?"
Xen reached and touched Eden's back. She twitched slightly. Xen pushed her toward the stairs down.
"I am going to check on the boys." Eden tossed her head and walked away.
"They haven't taken a single breath since I triple bubbled them, you pathetic hormonally driven . . . " Art snapped around, scanning the room and fixing on them.
Xen pointed Staven toward the stairs as he put himself between Art and the stairs and turned to face the god.
"So back to kidnapping witches, I see." Xen was suddenly a part of the dim gray and Staven backed reluctantly to the stairs, and nudged Eden, as she hesitated.
Halfway down the stairs the world brightened and regained its colors. He spotted the others. River and Simon carrying a bronze stature of two boys, Mihaela shoving the glass doors open . . . Eden darted across the room to help . . . Where is Grace? And can they get out of the bubble? Is that hole Xen put in it still there?
His shadow flashed across the walls as a bright light behind him moved, heat struck the back of his neck. He flinched at a flick of pain from an ear. The light died as he turned.
Winced away from a chaotic view of insubstantial things whirling and shooting across the room. Colored sheets of shields, spells flying. All superimposed on a reality that had Xen with his sword in his right hand, probing the god's defenses.
The god was cursing. His frown of concentration broke as he flinched back from an onslaught of spells and sword. "How long do you think you can keep it up, little boy?"
Xen's next gesture did nothing . . . but Staven's ears popped suddenly.
He glanced down the stairs, golden sunlight poured through the doors . . . the bubble was gone.
A curse pulled his head back around. Xen sweating, staggering back a step.
Staven took a deep breath. "God of War!" Now what the hell do I say? He staggered as a wave of magic nearly knocked him flat, a huge black shadow—no. The Warhorse and the God. Rearing on the stairs didn't seem to bother them a bit. The horse lunged forward without bothering to touch his front feet down first.
Below Staven heard Mihaela. "Answer! Answer!"
Staven drew the laser pistol and eased upward. I need to remember that I have no shield. Movement out of the corner of his eye . . .
The old woman marched right past him. Spare but straight. Radiating cold anger.
Staven boggled and followed.
Art was standing contemptuously now. Shields all around him.
The God of War had dismounted. They faced each other with twenty feet of twisting magical potential in between. The horse was a third of the way around Art, ears pinned. In the other direction, Xen, his sword at low stance, left hand raised and glowing.
"Let's see. Where shall we all go?" Art smiled, even as his eyes darted to take in Answer and then Staven. "Oh, even more uninvited guests." He staggered, startled.
Staven stumbled forward, he felt like he was falling, like the building had fallen over . . . he threw his stump over the stair rail and tried to clamp down, hold on. He heard the snap as Art's legs gave way and a single scream. The God of Art fell, flattened, scrunched closer together.
The fireball was from War's direction. It flew without impediment to the man on the ground. Heat and light. Not a sound.
Answer just stood. Made not a single gesture.
Staven shoved the laser back into the holster, and grabbed the stair post to avoid falling sideways down into . . . the compacting burning sphere that had once been a god.
He spotted the God of War, standing braced, one hand holding onto a statue. Xen had worked his way around behind a large tableau and was crabbing sideways. The Warhorse was had all four hooves braced, nearly sitting down, sliding a bit on iron shoes. Xen reached the end of his statues and circled, hold
ing on, to reach and grab the horse's tail. Corded muscles leaped into prominence. The horse's slow slide stopped.
Art was still shrinking, a melon, an orange, a walnut, a pea . . . it fell through the floor and was gone. Staven sagged as everything righted itself. The horse scrambled backwards, snorting, ears stiff and pointed at the old witch.
Answer looked over at the God of War. "The fire was excessive. Gravity always wins." She turned and stalked past Staven. He eased down a few stairs and watched her gather up Eden, Mihaela, and the boys and disappear.
Grace staggered through the small door. Tears running down her face. "They aren't there. My friends aren't there."
River gathered her up in a hug, and Simon hovered.
Staven climbed back up to join the other two, looking at a small blackened hole in the floor. A pinprick of sunlight shown through.
Xen cleared his throat. "You know. I've always known Answer was a refugee from the war a century ago. But somehow it never occurred to me that she might have been one of the combatants."
The God nodded. "The best. A commander of a military pyramid. Nine triads. She was from the Stone Giants Pyramid outside of Farofo. Most of them lived in Farofo. They evacuated ahead of the Auralian Army, except for the ones who joined the witches already in the Army of the West. They fought and died, the city fell, the last witches tried to cover the Army's retreat. " He heaved a shaky breath. "I rarely remember, these days. We did stop them before they managed to reinvest the city, drove them back over the borders."
Xen walked back behind the statues and leaned to pick up his sword. "But that pyramid?"
"Answer's mother died at the front lines early in the war. The Auralians had raiding and scouting parties out, hunting for magicians, attacking wherever they detected the use of power. They hit the refugees, during the evacuation, targeting the witches. Her two daughters were killed on the road, along with the rest of the pyramid."
Staven felt the sudden ebb of the magic . . . the god was gone, and the horse.
"No wonder she's so damned mean." Xen sheathed his sword and walked over to the hole. "Do you suppose she managed to compact him all the way down to neutronium?"
"I don't even want to know what that is. Let's get out of here."
Chapter Fifteen
Spring 1393
Ash, Foothills Province
There were a lot of witches at the Twin Inn. They mobbed Xen and demanded a blow by blow account of Answer killing the God of Art.
Staven edged around to a less populated spot, and Mihaela and Eden eased out of the crowd to join him. He hugged Mihaela, but spoke to Eden. "Are the boys all right?"
"Yes." Eden glanced over to the corner where a large number of small forms were, mostly, being quiet. She swallowed. "I . . . don't know how to thank you for . . . "
"Oh, bah. You are probably my widowed sister-in-law. Family. And I'd have jumped in anyway." His arm tightened around Mihaela. "Can't have gods running around attacking witches. Not that I did anything. The God of War and Xen were having trouble dealing with him when Answer just walked up and . . . crushed him down to neutronium."
Mihaela snickered. "Well, we got the twins and Eden back, and that's the main thing."
Staven nodded, looking around at a multi-voiced whoop from the witches. He nodded at the door and they nodded and followed him out into the quiet of the spring afternoon.
Just the quiet clip of horse shoes as Garit led a trio of palace guards up to them.
"Oops." Staven shrugged. "Sorry guys, I was in a bit of a hurry. Passi, go tell Colonel Janic that Lady Eden and the boys are fine, and back in Ash. And that Matthew Gallery is dead."
Garit swung down and frowned down at him. "You are not supposed to be getting into fights."
Yes I am. I was born and raised to defend the kingdom . . . and my king. Staven blinked and glanced back toward the babies. Is that what I just did? He looked back at Garit, and his guards. But they think I'm the future king. I need to calm them down and be a bit more subtle as I . . . engineer the future. "I was a mere spectator. The danger is past, so sit down, I need to talk through a few things . . . " Staven stopped, and followed Garit's gaze over his head. "Good afternoon, Answer."
The old woman crossed her arms. "I thank you for your assistance, Prince Staven. But I think you do not understand witches."
Staven hesitated, nodded. "I do understand independence and self reliance. I understand that Mihaela will always do whatever she wishes, and I will try to never stand in her way. I understand that that I am very high in the line of inheritance, with at least an even chance of becoming king, decades from now. That's the largest part of my current problem. Because I will be required to marry someone from a pool of noble women chosen by a committee. No matter if I love someone else."
Mihaela stirred, but said nothing.
"I understand that half of Mihaela's children will be witches, or rather that each child will have a fifty percent chance of being a witch, and an equal chance of not being a witch. It is partly because of those non-witch daughters that I contemplate marrying against my family's will. As legitimate daughters, they will have wider opportunities in Karista. But really, the main reason I want to marry Mihaela is because I am proud that she wants to associate with me. I want to escort her to parties, state occasions, show her off with pride. Not hide a paramour, as if she were somehow shameful." He swallowed. "Which is pretty nervy of me, seeing as how I know I'll be forced to divorce her . . . assuming she hasn't gotten disgusted with me and walked out before that."
He gathered his nerve and turned toward Mihaela. "I love you . . . but I have a responsibility to the Kingdom."
She touched his lips with a finger. "Then don't ask me anything now. This . . . needs to not be like your grandfather and his Traveler, or Rebo and Eden. Talk to your family. This will be open, or it won't happen."
She was pink cheeked and bright eyed, so he kissed her. Answer growled, and Mihaela smiled and slipped back inside the inn.
Then Garit clapped him on the shoulder. "Time to go home. Before more troops show up."
The last two guards looked ready to grab him and haul him home.
Good. I need to do some thinking. And talking. Politics.
Staven gave Garit a sunny smile as a young witch led up Solstice and Black Magic. "Excellent idea. I think you need to have a deeply concerned talk with the other royals, all about the hideous year poor Staven has had, and the confidence building effect of a young woman who adores him. And how a witch is perfect, since she can only have daughters." He hauled himself up onto Solstice's high back and headed for the corridors.
Garit trotted his horse up beside him. "Do you really think you can maneuver them around to accepting Mihaela?"
"I don't know, nor do I know how the heir situation is going to end." Although I'm wondering if the collective subconscious hasn't made up their mind already, and I don't think political power plays will do anything but complicate matters. "I can only shove it the direction that seems best to me. Even if it might not be what I would like." Staven shrugged. "Personally I'd be delighted if Rebo and Eden's marriage was legal. My second option involves Kersh becoming the crown heir, with you, Little Mirk or Kel as Spear. Or even me again." He flexed his right bicep. "Depending on this."
Garit snickered. "I see, you've got it all mapped out. What's your third option?"
"Adopting two boys. I haven't settled on which two yet."
"Oh . . . Fourth option?"
"Learn how to be a good king." But I am beginning to think that what I need to be is a good uncle to the next crown and spear. And I'm going to start by not allowing myself to be made into their rival, by being married off to an ambitious man's daughter.
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 busy 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 . . .
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