by Pam Uphoff
She glared at him, and stomped out.
Xen turned back to Janic. "The other two Girls got generic spells. Deena's were fancier, custom fit, so to speak, but they all just increased gullibility, indifference and absentmindedness. I suspect all the neighbors have the same spells. I'll charm some things, your people can wear them when they go there and not get wrapped again. Hmm, I'll make them look like the spells are still on them too, in case the agent checks."
"Right." Janic scowled. "Magic. The bane of my life. I've got people watching for contacts. Have they walked right by? Invisible?"
"Could be." Xen said. "All right. I'll be a Traveler for a bit and make charms. Maybe even look deeply into my crystal ball."
Janic waved him out. Deena was waiting for him and hauled him into a small room and pinned him to a wall. "I am not a witch. Don't you dare try anything with me, Traveler."
"Umm, I hate to tell you this, but neither witch nor traveler is an insult where I come from." He readied a shield, just in case . . .
"They are where I come from. So watch your mouth."
"Umm, I've never actually been properly introduced to you. What is your whole name?"
"Lieutenant Deep Night Janic. I believe you know my father." Dripping sarcasm. Narrowed eyes daring him to say something about nepotism.
"I believe I do." Deep Night? That just screams Cadent Virgins of Love. No zap, though. She must not be one of grandfather's . . .and Dydit hasn't got the witch gene anyway. Perhaps a granddaughter of Romeau's? I thought he avoided the Virgins. Chance, Art, or Peace? "Seriously, you need some training, so you don't accidentally kill someone."
"Trust me, the urge I feel right now has nothing to do with any possible accidents."
"I noticed."
She released him and he collected the materials he needed to hold the spells. The charms and traps were fun to make, and he was careful to label each one for what it was. Carried in a pocket, the bearer would appear to be under the influence of the triplet of spells, while being protected from them, and the trap spells would catch any other spells attempting to wrap the bearer. Then he made some that would reverse the effects of spells to divert the attention or make something or someone easy to overlook.
Janic needs to recruit some witches. I can't cover everything, and the charms are inert, they can't shift, adapt, recover. Or warn the Girls when it's a good idea to run away.
Chapter Twenty-one
Late Spring 1391
Crossroads, Foothills Province, Section One
There was something outside the gate. A half buried machine, a thick prong sticking out over one edge of the gate.
Sometimes it would be handy to be able to see through one of these things. Xen warped light around himself, and stepped through. The open grasslands on the other side were empty . . . and trampled down. Xen turned.
A small team of soldiers in mottled uniforms was running for the gate. A large batch of men in varied civilian clothing, about half topped with a lightweight white coat, were retreating.
They must have seen troopers passing by. And seen the soldiers guarding a few of the gates. Am I the first person to walk down to the gate? I should have worn my uniform, so I looked official. I could talk to them . . . except they don't much look like diplomats.
Xen sidestepped the soldiers and took a look around. A copy of the half buried machine on the far side was half buried here. Its thick prong covered the same edge. Can radio signals pass through? I know light can. I didn't ask Hoon's observers if there were any conversations with little machines. And whether they've been seen or not, we'd better assume that Hoon and the Post Head are back in radio contact. And apparently not recalled, so the One World hasn't lost interest in us.
The soldiers were peering cautiously through the gate. They don't want to be seen. I wonder what their orders are? Capture or kill anyone who sees them? Xen settled down out of the way and closed his eyes. They all had the bright glows of magic users, mental shields up, but not too solid. With a bit of work he could "see" the power packs in their weapons. I could drain them. But why show them what we can do? He stood up and walked around behind the foggy glow of the gate.
There were small buildings off where they couldn't be seen through the gate. They'd sprung up since Hoon had contacted someone . . . four weeks ago? And two weeks since I popped through and looked around. Ouch. So much for thinking we had two years. With motorized transport, I guess whoever Hoon contacted headed straight home. And they organized and sent this lot. Janic is right, about needing more people out here. I just wished he realized how vulnerable non-magic people are, to magicians without scruples. It's all very well for the soldiers to trot by a couple of times a day and then say there's nothing going on . . . but I ought to have been crossing through daily.
Xen took a quick look at the buildings. Portable, apparently. Just plopped down on the ground. He could identify barracks, offices, and science labs. Something that was probably a medical thing . . . clinic. Lady Giselle says people used to get sick, like animals. I know these people have genetic engineering. Hoon is as strong as a witch. But maybe their ordinary people don't have as much. Or any. He prowled the camp, studied the Oners' equipment. Some were close enough to old things of his father's that he could recognize their function. A few were helpfully labeled. And a "bulldozer" he'd only seen pictures of, in his father's old books. It was larger than he'd expected. They must have made a road from wherever their gate is.
The soldiers were relaxing, standing down from their alarm.
Xen headed back to report.
At least the soldiers were few, and acting like they were protecting the scientists. No sign of an invasion. Yet.
Chapter Twenty-two
Late Spring 1391
Ash, Foothills Province
Azure went into labor a week before the Solstice, and delivered a beautiful dark haired girl after a fairly short labor.
"Halo. A beautiful name for her." Trump sighed nostalgically. "It'll be fun having babies around again. Even six of them at once."
"Mom?" Sandy stuck her head in. "I think you should come look at Inky."
Trump nodded. "As big as she is, I figured she'd be first. Can you stay here with Azure?" Sandy nodded, and Trump hustled down to Inky's room.
She heard the baby's cry from the hallway, the unmistakable cry of a newborn who'd just realized the World was a cold place. Inky was on the edge of the bed, and Heliotrope was kneeling with the baby in her arms.
"Well, sweetie, that was fast. Good job, Heliotrope." She quickly dealt with the cord and wrapped the baby up and deposited her in the waiting crib.
"Imbrium. Now there's a good, interesting name. And look at all that black hair!" She turned back to Inky, and felt her belly, "Umm, you're still pretty big. I was wondering if you were going to take after me."
Inky grunted through a contraction. "Mom. Don't say things like that. This is supposed to be the afterbirth. Period. All done. Nggggh!"
"Umm, keep up a steady, long push, Inky. Good. Now another and . . . Voila! Juno, I believe." She wiped the baby's mouth and nose and Juno sucked in a breath and wailed. "Juno's a little stodgy, but there are worse names." She tied off the cord and snipped it.
"There we go. Oh my, but you are a pretty baby, all rosy with baby fuzz."
"Ngggh! Mom, why isn't it stopping?"
"Afterbirth dear, the placenta. Just as you said."
"Aieeeggghhh!"
"Or maybe not. I told your father not to go check up on you girls! Long hard push, dear."
"Mom! No, no, no, nggggh!" After a few minutes that probably seemed a lot longer to Inky, she delivered her third child.
"Kupier, welcome to the World." Kupier screamed mightily, as Trump dealt with the cord again, and then finally Inky passed the placentas and suffered through the contractions that would clamp down on any bleeding, and get her uterus back to its normal size.
"You'll be fine dear, drink this, and rest a bit, you'll need to be feeding these girls soon. I
'll be right back."
She dashed down the hallway to check on Azure—doing fine, Halo fed and sound asleep. "You'd better sleep too, sweetie. I'll assume you were the Good Girl of the bunch."
Azure giggled and yawned. "I didn't even know they were doing anything."
Back in Inky's room, the gaggle of girls were ooing and awing over the babies.
Trump snickered. "Luckily they all had distinguishing characteristics, so I know which one is which."
"Mom! What did I do to deserve triplets!"
"Well, dear, Did you perhaps take some of the special wine without permission."
"But, Azure had permission to advance . . . so I took it as a gift for her." Her forehead crinkled. "I'd forgotten all about it. I put it on the table. I guess the waiter took it and served everyone."
"Your father'd been there." Trump sighed. "So . . . how many men did you have sex with?"
"Four." Inky was getting sullen, and there was an uneasy stir from the other girls. "How many did you screw when you had quadruplets?"
Dead silence from the audience.
"Six, dear, five of them rapists that I killed. I think the excessive number of children had to do with how much I enjoyed killing them."
"Mom!" Outrage from the other three quads.
"You killed our fathers? I thought maybe an orgy or . . . " Scarlet looked disturbed.
"They were agents of another government, and I'd accidentally messed up their plans. They . . . knew how to control a witch by keeping her drained, and things got quite unpleasant for quite some time." She drummed her fingernails on the dresser. "This is not the best place or time for a lecture, so let me just say that the spell on that wine selects for high magical abilities from whatever is available, and will even pick specific chromosomes from different sperm. Lady Gisele was just fascinated by the four of you. Because you each—genetically speaking—have several fathers. Hell's chromosomes are in each one of you, but also some from those other men."
Heliotrope nodded. "I heard about that wine, and the mix and match genes . . . I just didn't think about us. I mean, all the different hair colors . . . "
"While we are here in Ash, perhaps I can get Lady Gisele to come talk to you about it. Now, let's see about getting these three babies fed."
Two weeks later, Hell popped her up to as near the peak of Mt. Frost as he dared, and Trump joined the Solstice ceremony, and sang the Song of the Grandmother. Take that, Rustle! That'll teach you to have a son first. You won't be a real Waning Crescent until your daughter has a child. Ha! Beat you!
In the predawn, she ducked out of the procession home so she could help Lady Gisele deliver Yoderite's twins, Luminous and Meteor, followed shortly by Beige's twins, Nebula and Opacity.
Zenith and Cost doted on all the babies. But still left them with Trump, and hustled back to their mother's homes before dark every evening. That nasty encounter with those weird things from Arbolia was fourteen years ago! Tromp snorted. They need to get tougher.
Lady Gisele came by several times, not that any of the girls had had any problems. But the old goddess was a geneticist, and was, again fascinated. "Two fathers each for Yoderite's pair, and four each for Inky's triplets. They all have the same wizard X, so I'll assume that only one of those men was a wizard. An entirely different wizard fathered Azure's babe, by the way, and no mixture of genes."
Trump rolled her eyes. "She's in love. And the wretched man won't just go away. I may have to learn how to turn a man into a toad."
"Mom!" Azure's voice echoed down the hallway.
Gisele snickered. "I've delivered the bad news to the other girls—twins, both of them. Trump, Dear? Have you ever considered taking over my position as Goddess of Fertility? You seem to have the knack."
"I have the knack? That wine that you and the Auld Wulf magicked up is the problem, and I think everyone knows that."
The Goddess smirked a bit. "I haven't been that drunk since. Perhaps I ought to try it again. Get together with Harry, Romeau, and Michael."
Trump frowned down at her.
Gisele smiled. "Oh, and Logic and Charlie. Must not leave them out. I'm sure Wolfgang would be happy to host a party."
Trump made a note to herself to return to Karista as soon as possible. And stay there. Even though she was pretty sure Gisele was kidding.
Three days later, Zeolite had delivered Pallas and Quasar, and Scarlet had produced Rigel and Star.
"Well, twelve babies." Trump plumped herself down beside Hell. "Do you ever feel like dumping the lot of us insane women?"
The man grinned. "Do you have any idea what would happen to me if I even seriously thought about it?" He grabbed her and maneuvered them around so they were stretched out on the couch with him on top. "Besides, I'd never find another woman like you, so leaving is unthinkable." His eyes got thoughtful for a long moment, then they thumped down on warm sand. "But a nasty old, and very horny, pirate might take you away to his tropical paradise for a proper ravaging."
Trump scrambled to her feet and stared at the blue waves curling up the beach, and the tropical forest on the other side. "You'll never catch me Captain Hell!" She took off down the beach, shedding heavy clothing as she ran. Every stitch of it.
Chapter Twenty-three
Summer Solstice 1391
Crossroads, Foothills Province, Section One
"Funny accent, you've got. You didn't walk all the way from Scoone did you?" Xen was kicking himself for not being more alert. The eight men had come from the vicinity of gate Two East. But he hadn't actually seen them exit the gate. They could have just walked over to examine it. Doubtful. But I didn't see them yesterday. Or did I just not notice them? There were no new vehicles. Damn, am I going to have to count them every day? I'll check with the troops at the Arrival gate, they may have noticed.
"Yeah, we're headed for the . . . capital."
Xen bobbed his head and tried to look harmless and not too bright, while feeding them information. Nothing is more useful than an enemy spy you know all about. Even poorly briefed ones. We know the Oners have been here for decades. They ought to know the name of the capital city. An incursion from yet another cross dimensional world would be absurd!
"Karista's another twenty-five days walk. But you can take the stage from Bridgeton, if you want. Cuts a whole ten days off, the way they drive those horses, switching teams at every stop." Damn, they had good mental shields, nothing showing except a few flashes way up high on some scale he had no words for. Hoon shows her aura, to attract men, but I've never gotten any thoughts from her.
"We don't have any local currency, but we have gold and silver. Do you know where we can sell it?" Their spokesman was tall, six feet of wiry hard muscle. Dark hair, olive tan skin. The other five were much the same, differing only slightly in height and build, all olive skinned brunettes. They reminded him of Hoon. Superficially, they could pass anywhere on this world. But their body language was a bit off, their speech . . . not accented, but the strain showed.
"Oh, we get miners down from the hills all the time." Xen ducked down below the bar and pulled out the scales and the price sheet. "Umm, we haven't gotten an update on prices yet this month. Gold's one hundred twelve royals, nine crowns, two points an ounce. Silver's eight royals, two crowns an ounce."
"So, no stages from here?" Ha! One of the others could talk.
"No sir. Lose your horses on the trip? I hear crossing the New Land is tough."
"We're not much on riding." Back to the first man.
"Hmm, it's slack season, maybe one of the farmers around would hire out their wagon and take you to the city." Or a Guard who looked like a farmer . . .
He weighed the three little wafers of gold the man produced and figured out the total. He gigged Harry mentally. :: Possible Bad Guys selling gold. Come help your dumb nephew not make a hash of it. ::
Harry popped out of his room, pulling off his reading glasses. "Good afternoon gentlemen."
"They walked all the way from Scoo
ne, Uncle Harry!"
"Huh, well, you made it. Let's see your figures, boy." He sounded a bit skeptical, and then pleased and proud. "Excellent, boy. You're getting good with your numbers. Let me go get my cash box. He shuffled back into his room, and came out with his heavy wooden box and started counting out the script and coins. Business settled all around, Harry affably served up ale, and sent Xen off to the kitchen.
Flare was ready with a platter of bread and cheese and fruit.
Xen trotted back out with it.
"Most likely any of the locals would be pleased to drive you to the city. Xen, doesn't Mister Mackey have a carriage in his barn?" Harry was being the affable host.
"The one they used for Cindi's wedding?" Xen nodded bucolically. "Want me to run over and ask if it's still roadworthy? They fixed it all up just last fall so it ought'a be fine."
"He's a real tight man." Harry warned. "Don't pay him more than three royals. After all you can walk to Bridgeton and take the stage, all eight of you for two."
Xen got sent off shortly, and popped through to Karista.
"Sir? I've got eight men who might have just popped out of Two East. They're all very professional, and work together like a trained team of soldiers and have impressive mental blocks. You got anyone who could pass for a farmer hiring out driving an old carriage?"
Janic rubbed his temples, then turned and pulled one of his cords. A knock was followed by a head sticking around the door.
"I need Easterly and Wacolm, dressed like farmers, here for a briefing as soon as possible, and an old but sound carriage that can handle eight passengers and a driver. And a double team of farm horses a bit too coarse to be pulling that carriage."
"Yes, sir."
"All right. Details, Xen."
He told him, then when Easterly, a big slow-looking lad with an uncomprehending blank stare, and Wacolm, an old farmer with a shrewd look to him, arrived, told the whole thing all over again. The two guards looked a bit skeptical about the magic part, and Xen worked out a very difficult to detect spell that would block any deep probes, and wrapped them both. Easterly was an untrained wizard. Interesting. The carriage they produced was almost too nice, but a bit of dust and dirt helped, and the carriage horses were a bit unkempt looking but sound.