by Pam Uphoff
"Oh yes. I get so sick of my family. The Pyramids really ought to swap around more, so we all get to know each other." Heliotrope shrugged. "Mother thinks more contact will erode her position."
"Zenith and Cost will support her, surely?"
"Oh yes, no matter what. But half the time they aren't there. And they really aren't very good teachers." Heliotrope scowled a bit.
"I suspect Trump will start sending students to Ash regularly, you lot really need advanced training now. And witches do, sooner or later, start having babies. At least the Wizard School in Prairie Coast isn't a baby factory. Rip Crossing's got three older witches mostly full time, and still keeps my Mom hopping, running back and forth."
"Ooo! Don't say 'older' when speaking of my Mother's generation!"
Xen chuckled. "That's rich! Your mother is aging as little as mine is. I think those genes must be extremely common in the population since, well, that wine that selects, you know?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, you know, we concentrate so much on who's got which power genes that we tend to forget about all the rest. Longevity is one of the engineered ones, isn't it."
Everyone around them was looking puzzled.
Heliotrope blushed. "Sorry, I guess that's hardly dinner chat, is it? Lord Baylor, are you any relation to the Marshal of the New Lands?"
"He's my father. I'm the youngest of his six children."
"Did you grow up out there?" A lady across the table asked.
"Off and on, it was a bit wild for my mother's tastes, so we tended to have trips out there every other year, staying a few months at a time."
The conversation centered thereafter on traveling and strange foreign habits, and was actually quite pleasant. Xen tried to forget the Gold Gang, and be pleasant to the dangerous witch beside him.
And forgot to dodge the governor.
"Oh, drat. Please tell me Dad didn't make me a proxy for the land grant, too." Xen eyed a possible escape route.
Governor Newry sidled over to block it. "Why yes, in fact he did. On your twenty-first birthday, just about a year ago. And of course, I haven't seen him since. Not that I ought to complain, mind you. Lady Gisele hasn't graced Wallenton with her presence for, umm, eight years, now. And that's not even a record, for her. Oh, and I was surprised to learn that you were The Traveler's great great grandson. While we usually prefer closer relatives, with you lot, I'll take what I can get. You are Harry's proxy as well."
"Surely it's easier to ride up to Ash . . . Well, the barges are pretty fast going down the river to Karista . . . and now there's a stagecoach back to Wallenton." Xen sighed. "Okay. I surrender. How may I help you, Governor?"
"I have a few papers that need signatures. I brought them with me, knowing you might be around." His eye twinkled. "I did have other business, and the Council session is this week. And now I've found you, proving the good luck does come in threes. Well, the Council . . . let's just say 'luck' and leave it at that."
Xen snickered. "I remember Harry used to go to Wallenton twice a year. I hadn't actually realized that he'd stopped."
"Once he left Ash, he started slacking off." Newry shrugged. "Not that I ought to complain about him actually living on his own Land Grant. And there aren't many problems there, of course."
Xen nodded. "Not enough targets to even attract bandits. But that'll change fast enough." He allowed himself to be chivvied off to a reading and signing session at the Governor's hotel. "I think having me as a double proxy is cheating."
The governor just grinned and handed him another paper.
He sighed and started reading. "A tax for public works? What's the problem?"
"Wallenton has outgrown the water distribution system, and the sewer system. A bad combination to have both under par. The river water really isn't drinkable, from the city limits to downstream a hundred miles. And the City Engineers have no idea how the original sewage system was built."
Xen glanced up. "I suspect the Gods did it. I know they did the original Karista system. How about I mention to my Dad that it'll simplify things, taxes and what not, if he drops by with some friends and augments the original system?"
The governor huffed out an amused breath. "That would be . . . infuriatingly nice of him. Tell him I pay engineering companies in tax certificates."
Xen finished up the paperwork, and walked a few blocks to check on Hoon—everyone was home, the house was quiet and dark. He lucked out, catching a late night taxi to take him back to the stable.
Just in time to play midwife to a horse. Spooky's foal was huge—a big colt. Nighthawk showed every sign of intending to spend what little was left of the night out on the hills with dam and foal. Xen napped in the grass and kept an eye on all of them. In the morning sun, the big colt's fuzzy coat had just enough golden highlights to show the dorsal stripe and double stripes across his withers and down his shoulders.
"Hornet!" Nighthawk declared.
"Bumble bee would be nicer." Bug pet the colt carefully.
Pyrite thought that funny. :: Hornet's bigger than she is. ::
"Bronze warrior!" Nick chimed in.
Spooky slanted a dubious ear from boy to colt, and shook her head.
"He likes Hornet." Nighthawk nodded firmly. "So that's what his name is."
In the morning, he reported back to Colonel Janic.
"Nothing much happened at the dinner. Are you focusing on anyone in particular?"
"Lord Matthew Gallery." The colonel scowled. "Said to be the God of Art."
"He sat up the table, with the older lords and ladies. I couldn't hear his conversation, but there were no reactions from up there indicative of anyone being shocked or surprised. I didn't see him after dinner."
Janic looked glum. "He never says anything out of place, anywhere it could be heard. But he's meeting important people at his place, one at a time. It bothers me."
"And if he is highly magical, you won't have any luck getting your people close."
The scowl returned, and Janic changed the subject. "It's time to shift more observers to the Crossroads, to keep the gate under watch full time."
"Magically trained help?" Xen winced at the chilly glance he received. Drat. I'd prefer a witch. If Janic's people cross over, the Oners over there will grab them, find out everything they know.
"I'll make a bunch of charms, that will keep them unnoticed."
Which got him another scowl.
Chapter Thirty
Fall Equinox 1391
Fort Stag, Foothills Province
Garit was back in the saddle as reports kept coming from the north of bandits attacking in force. Twice they joined forces with Fort Iceberg, only to find the camp they attacked abandoned and empty. And each time the camp was further south.
Tanner was fretting badly, and even after seeing the quick formation of the witches' three sided defense during a practice drill, Garit was concerned about how a very fast attack could keep the witches apart and less powerful.
On his next trip to Ash he spotted a familiar figure coming from the direction of the Grange Barn and grinned.
"Oh. So here you don't even bother with a saddle or hackamore?"
Xen laughed, and turned Pyrite loose instead of handing him to the stable hand. "So how are you handling exposure to my home village?"
"Very well. No wonder Uncle Rufi has so many good stories out of here." They ate at the Inn and then walked up to the winery. Garit described the bandit situation in detail.
Xen bit his lip. "I talked to Baylor, just a few days ago. The Gold Gang has left their area. If you've got any descriptions, it might be a good idea to compare them with any they have. They're a very experienced group, dangerous even in an unfamiliar place. And that's assuming they didn't merge with local bandits."
"The Gold Gang? That's all we'd need." Garit thought about the rumors of the white haired woman . . . and the woman he'd met here. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. How silly! That pretty woman, a bandit. He shut his mouth and sti
rred uneasily. "Plenty of . . . " Blonde women around . . . He rubbed his temples. Headache? I never have headaches.
"Other places for them to have gone?" Xen leaned on Lady Gisele's fence. "Yeah, and Wallenton and the Fort there ought to have kept them southward, anyway."
Garit nodded. "Even though it's one of the smaller forts. They would have at least sent notice of a couple hundred men drifting past them." So . . . no problem with . . . whatever it had been that was bothering me.
"It's been what, close to a year that you've been here. And my relatives don't seem to have sent you running away screaming."
"I like it here. It's no wonder you're so sane. The strangest people I've met here still make half the nobles in Karista look like petty, backstabbing, social climbers."
"Even the magic?"
"Especially the magic. You're all so casual about it, most of the troops just take it in stride." Garit grinned. "Mind you, Colonel Trick still doesn't quite grasp magic as, well, magic. He's certain there's gears and levers in there somewhere. And he's sure that it's all well controlled and wisely used."
"Trick? Please tell me you don't mean that fellow who married Azure?"
Garit grinned. "Yep. That's the one."
"The first man to persuade a full-blown trained witch to marry him—and he doesn't believe in magic? Oh. My."
***
"You make it really hard to help with the haying, when you do it this way." Flare squinted, and still couldn't see more than a flicker here and there of something Xen was doing.
Nighthawk was staring wide-eyed as Xen scooped huge amounts of hay into absolutely nowhere at all.
"Well, this one's full enough. So, if I can attach this rock to it. Damn, it's not fair that witches can manipulate rocks so easily . . . Here. Drag this down to the barn."
He handed her a knob of rock. And grinned when she eyed him suspiciously. "Honest. All that hay I just scooped up is in a multi-dimensional bubble, and that rock is attached to it."
He turned away and made a snatching motion, and walked back to the rows of dried grass. Which disappeared as he walked by them.
Nighthawk looked at Flare's invisible bag. "There a whole haystack's worth of hay in there?" She held out her hand. "I'll take it down."
Flare handed her the rock and watched as the girl trotted off. There was, and wasn't a huge iridescent bubble . . . no. It just wasn't there.
She studied the man, and then started slapping her leg rhythmically. The not-there thing started looking a bit like a soap bubble, and it was indeed being filled with hay, as Xen ran the opening along just off the ground. Keeping the rhythm, Flare looked down hill. Nighthawk came out of the barn, with Pyrite following her like a dog. The girl climbed the corral fence and Pyrite sidestepped over so she could slip on. She could hear the girl laughing as they galloped up the hill.
Xen stopped and stared, then grinned. "I used to ride him like that, no saddle, no bridle, everywhere."
"He said to just hop on." Nighthawk was grinning. "I've always talked to horses, but this is the first time one talked back."
Xen nodded. "That old dun talks too, although not as much. Cat, I just get strong feelings from."
"What about your father's horse?" Big girly eyes.
Xen snickered. "Everybody just loves Jet. Yes, that whole group of horses talks. Once you've got two generations of God Horses, they get smart. Phantom is really smart, but he doesn't talk very much. We're not rushing things, so the first foals with three God ancestors are just two year olds. Hornet's one of them. Sun Gold, Jet and the Old Dun."
Flare hauled the next bubble of hay to the hay loft, setting her little stone down beside the one Nighthawk had brought and three others. All told, she figured Xen's bubbles held at least five times as much hay as the loft ought to hold. He brought up the last bubble and simply stuck it to the wall, attaching each rock with a thought.
"I need to practice more, or something." She blushed when she remembered how most magic users gave themselves a boost. I'm not ready to give up my virginity yet. Even for more power. She flicked a glance at Xen. No. I won't use a friend, nor mess up a, a, professional association, even if he is the cutest fellow around . . . and why does he keep looking at the gates. Is he expecting more people? Or an attack?
***
Xen eyed the new, long term guests Harry had acquired. Nothing mysterious about the two of them, they were Janic's men. Ignoring Xen. Riding about the countryside, walking out in the evening, or early morning.
Xen didn't know if it was policy or ignorance, but he ignored them in return and got more careful about being seen, or rather not seen, in his uniform.
Xen waited until dusk, then he and Pyrite went exploring. A light warp and a spell to muffle sound got them through the gate without the Oners noticing.
Nothing much had changed, although the rough track leading off to the southwest was more worn. They'd even graveled in a few low spots that probably collected water and turned into mud.
Xen anchored a corridor off the track, and pulled it along as Pyrite galloped down the road. A neat little bridge crossed a creek.
"They've spruced things up nicely, for how little they seem to travel." Xen frowned as the bridge failed to flex at all under Pyrite's weight. "I hope they aren't planning on bringing a lot of heavy equipment through."
Pyrite swiveled his ears in equine uncertainty, and galloped down the track. Fifty miles on, Xen attached the other end of the corridor, and they took it back to the start. At need, they could come through and move the far end in fifty mile increments, all the way to wherever the Oners were coming from.
Chapter Thirty-one
Fall 1391
Ash, Foothills Province, Section Two
Garit was not terribly interested in babies. But in Ash they were a bit hard to ignore. The Sisters from Hell had so many. Apparently they were staying until a few weeks before the fall party season.
"After all, we can't miss the Pumpkin Ball at the Palace." Scarlet smiled at Garit. "And you aren't going to say anything to anyone, are you?"
"Nope." I have better manners, not to mention better sense than to get myself sideways with you lot. Garit eyed her big healthy twins. Redheads, like their mother. "Even if I were going to be there, which I probably won't. Umm, Scarlet, why are your two so much bigger than Azure's one baby?"
She grinned wickedly. "Didn't Xen tell you about bubbles?"
"No. He's just a baby wizard, after all. He says he doesn't know very much." Of course, he said that four years ago.
She snickered. "Really? He's being modest. Xen's powerful. And learning fast. I'll admit, though, that until Rustle showed us how to do it, we didn't know about bubbles either." She hesitated, then grimaced. "Actually, I can't do them. None of us four, or Beige can. Azure, Yoderite and Zeolite can. They're multi-dimensional phenomena, like Corridors. But they're just empty pockets you can put anything in. Time runs differently there, at a natural ratio of ten thousand to one. You pop the baby in, close the opening, go away for three days, open it and the baby thinks she's been left alone for less than a minute. By the time Azure meets her in-laws, she'll have been married for two years and have a baby obviously less than a year old. I'm not sure Tanner quite notices. Honestly, he seems quite intelligent otherwise."
Garit nodded. "So, officially, all the babies are five months old, but Halo is . . . "
"A couple of months. Now that she's sleeping through the night, Azure will leave her in for even longer sessions. And, because you can—well, some of my sisters can—adjust the time ratio, mine are going in for their naps, and aging faster than the outside. So Rigel and Star are about seven months old. Starting to crawl, which is going to be a challenge. But I can tuck them away in a normal bubble, and attend the Ball without worrying about them."
"Damn. I think that's neat. Cheating, mind you, but neat. Err . . . How do they breathe? What happens if they wake up early?"
"Oh, the bubbles are air and water permeable. And in the slow b
ubbles, nothing happens, because time is so slow. I don't think they'd even drown if . . . Oh. Those fast bubbles might be a bit more dangerous than I'd thought." She bit her lip. "Maybe I'll just let them grow at their own pace. I don't really need to advance before my sisters. And the slow bubbles are perfectly safe, while I go to the ball and pretend to be an innocent virgin."
He eyed her figure. "No one is going to suspect a thing."
Nor did they.
Garit was summoned home—something the corridors made quick and easy—to attend the Harvest Ball. Nine witches made an appearance. Azure stayed in Ash.
"To be with her husband and frankly dear, she's starting to show. I'll be a aunt in another seven months. Doesn't that sound dreary?" That was Inky, rolling her eyes and gossiping with another lady.
The other lady sniffed in doubt. "I heard she was well along."
"Well, when Tanner is reassigned, you'll just have to drop by and play guess the baby's age, won't you?"
Garit turned away, trying hard to not laugh. Only the witch who dared to get married is getting her reputation dissected in public. No wonder Xen laughs at us nobles. He glanced around looking for his friend . . . who was bolting across the dance floor. What had he missed? What had happened?
***
Quail Quicksilver's Great Grandfather was a nice gentleman, and quite happy to escort her to the Royal Ball. Fortunately she wasn't expected to stand in the greeting line. She concentrated on the orchestra, just tasting the vibrations, trying to not collect power from them. She stood close, for the full effect. Shunting power really wasn't good enough.
I'm getting old enough to absorb more power than I can deal with.