by Pam Uphoff
"I hope you are right," Ask said. "Begging your pardon, but you gods are really messed up."
Logic chuckled. "We are indeed. I plan on returning to Ash often, so I will bid you goodnight, instead of farewell." She walked into Gisele's herb garden, pausing to sniff here and there.
Ask walked into Harry's, and wandered back to help in the kitchen. Just because she was a paying guest, was no reason to not help cook.
In the morning, she watched the god and goddess leave in a heavy closed chase with some misgivings. She's his kind. She must understand him better than a twenty-two year old can. Damn, damn, damn. Then the twins woke, hungry, and took up all her attention.
***
The Auld Wulf had forgotten how odd the gods were. Logic was a good reminder. Not that she wasn't good company; an old colleague, never an enemy and always a friend. Never a lover, though. Sex wasn't logical. Goddesses, like gods, gained their special abilities through the interactions of the genes on the X and Y chromosomes. To be female, they had an extra X chromosome, and he rather thought there'd been some hormone treatments involved. The result, however feminine on the outside had some serious problems on the insides. A good part of Gisele's expertise with reproduction stemmed from a desire to have children of her own. She kept threatening Romeau . . . She'd had a daughter several centuries ago, when she thought Romeau dead. Nil's mother. Somehow in wanting her child to fit into that society, she had lost track of what that would mean, personally. Linda had died of old age centuries ago.
He'd bought the carriage in Karista and traveled it back to Ash. Nil had supplied the handsome brown foursome, happy to have someone else do the selling for him. The geldings trotted along happily, energetic in the just barely freezing temperatures, and they made good time.
Bail swung aboard at Fort Stag, and chatted a bit.
Apparently rumors were flying about the "new" gods. Pity so many people had seen Edmund's little scene. Logic made some dry comments about Just Deserts through the open curtains and window. Apparently Michael and Trump were making an interesting addition to Karista's High Society.
The King's Mage had begged an island from the King, and set up the former harem guards and the ten ladies as a Mage's retreat. The new mage compass had somehow become popular, with people bragging about how well they knew Bran and Oscar. The compass was having to fend off patrons.
The Auld Wulf laughed at that, then Bail dropped off and started the walk back.
The Auld Wulf cheated a bit, travelling the entire rig across the boring and empty plains, and gave the foursome a taste of one of Gisele's mixtures. They trotted and walked on through the night.
Logic slept and the Auld Wulf studied the comet they called the Captain. The comet was bright enough to trace the tail half way across the sky. They camped the next night and reached the first inn on the route in the late afternoon of the sixth day. Logic was glad of the early stop and chatted with some merchants also bound for Karista. The Auld Wulf yawned through an early dinner and went to bed, leaving her talking to a pair of young teenage girls.
The horses were in fine shape and raring to go the next morning. Logic complimented the Hosteller on his facilities and they were off. With the teen age girls. They passed the merchants, who had gotten an early start, before noon.
They stopped at a small town for lunch, and the Auld Wulf talked to the girls.
"There's no men to marry," Gili shrugged. "So we can be spinsters living with our parents and taking care of them as they age, or we can go to town."
Logic smiled. "And if I'm to live in town I'll need some people to help me. I'm not very good at some things, and not at all at ease in this society. So I've hired the girls. If we don't suit each other they can find employment from a secure position, not desperation."
"Very logical," Wolf agreed. The girls were pleasant company for the weeks needed when traveling without magical assistance.
In Karista they stayed at Rufi's, with his staff trying to bring the country girls quickly up to speed. While the Auld Wulf talked to diplomats, Logic spent her time in the Royal Library, and then the college of philosophy. He made sure she met Weg, with his insatiable appetite for knowledge. They hit it off immediately.
In the science department he couldn't find an astronomer confident enough to predict any possible future comet falls. In fact they looked a bit offended at the notion, and skeptical of his insistence that it had happened before. But a few of them were taking notes, and looking worried. I need to look into better telescopes. A big observatory of our own. Too much to do, too few gods taking the long view and paying attention. But with Logic taking an interest, that matter may be taken care of.
The goddess took a lease on a small dignified house midway between the library and the campus and the girls took it over and looked like they could do a good job of taking care of her. Rufi looked like he would love to take care of her too.
He lunched with his banker, discussed the best way to fund an observatory, and introduced him to Logic . . . damn it, why couldn't he remember her name? She opened a personal account, and joined Wolf in operating a fund for scientific projects.
Then he hired a boat briefly to drop him off on Hell's Island. The hounds ran down to greet him and led him up to Hell's transplanted palace. They were amazingly well behaved. He searched his memory and failed to find previous notice of tail wagging.
"Good morning, Trump," he called up, seeing her with the children.
The almost-four-year-old twins remembered him as a familiar figure and ran to drag him up to see their sisters. Three of the quadruplets toddled about.
"We're a bit worried about Heliotrope," Tromp admitted. "Although Azure was a bit slow too."
Michael wandered out. "Here to check on your Ash witch? Trump said you lot were over-protective. I thought she was kidding."
The Auld Wulf chuckled. "At one point the World was down to four witches, two mages and nine wizards as its entire complement of trained magic users. Other than us gods, mind you. So we got over-protective. The main reason I came, apart from my exquisite manners, mind you, being in town and all, was to show you this."
He folded up and sat down on the ground, drawing an immediate crowd of little girls.
"Ha! The big, bad God of War had better watch his reputation." Hell grinned.
The Auld Wulf created a dimensional cube, a stick figure in dimensions the human eye couldn't see. Michael, of course, could see it. The Auld Wulf held his hand out and the dark haired twin tried to grab the cube. She laughed as her fingers slid through it.
The strawberry blonde hunted for whatever it was her sister was trying to get. "I want it!" she told him. But she couldn't see it.
The gaggle of toddlers ignored it, but the littlest one crawled over and used the Auld Wulf as a handy handhold to practice standing up.
Michael had gone very still and quiet.
"Apparently the wizard X gene in combination with either the mage Y or the witch X enables dimensional abilities. We call them the 'special witch and wizard skills' to avoid panic among the possessors or their parents by using the term god."
Michael drew a deep breath and exhaled. "The wizard X was considered such a flop, it wasn't much tested, was it?"
"Nope. And they missed something very important. Hell, you were all wrapped up during the heyday of the wizards. They're very strong magic users, once they figured out the source of the problem. We've just recently realized the potential of the combinations. I figured I'd better check your lot. A couple of the witches have deliberately had multiple power source babies."
Trump scowled. "Is that why Rustle had a boy? I heard she snuck into bed with you while you were, like, asleep for that whole year."
The Auld Wulf could feel himself blushing. "If I'd been wide awake, I wouldn't have refused her. Although the very idea of anyone subjecting themselves to my instinctive magic while dreaming gives me the chills."
"I . . . see. Is this wise?" Michael bent and picked up Azure.
"Only time will tell. I forgot that you have no experience with the world since the comet. Do some astronomy, eh? Calculate the orbits of the four year comets. You won't like the results, guaranteed." He turned to the witch, "Trump? Your little one here? God's babies grow up a bit slowly sometimes. Don't worry about her, just treat her like she's a very bright child of whatever age she acts. Think of her as the younger sister of the others."
"Oh, huh." Trump nodded. "Like Ask. I used to pick on her just to get Rustle mad. Pity I didn't know Hell back then. I expect his dogs would have straightened me right up."
He snorted. "Yes they do have a tendency to make one think before acting, don't they. But it's the rest of your family that would have attracted the attention of the hounds, I suspect."
She cocked an eye at him. "Do you know what Dydit did to them? They're very . . . soft on children."
"Probably turned into a goat and raped them."
Michael wrinkled his nose. "Goat?"
"A sort of very large, black mutant goat. Looks half gazelle and half demon. It was a spell he lived under for eight hundred years, so he's comfortable with it."
"I'd like to see the goat that could fight all four dogs, let alone . . . "
The Auld Wulf chuckled evilly. "That's what you think now."
They invited him for lunch, and he brought them up to date on Ash and old gods.
Michael whooped with delight over Edmund's encounter with Pax. "Oh, that sanctimonious prick. Speaking of Edmund, what the hell happened to Barry? Do you realize they've got statues of him, out here on an island? Most disgusting things I've ever seen."
"Actually he was trapped inside a reversed bubble. He looked like all the other statues. I wonder where he's gotten to?"
"I don't think I want to think about him."
"What we want to think about is how to hire some nannies," Trump said. "We keep scaring them off."
The Auld Wulf looked at the dogs and grinned. "I should think so. Actually, Nina has been talking wistfully about wanting to move back to town."
Trump perked up. "She'd be perfect! She's way past being startled by magic, and six babies would be a relief to her."
"We'll go talk to her tonight." Michael assured her.
Taking his departure, the Auld Wulf traveled to Ba'al's Temple and then reclaimed his horses and carriage for the drive to the new Mage's Island. At low tide it was possible to drive across a low neck of land to what had once been an old fortress, and then hosted a small hunting lodge.
Selano looked ten years younger, full of energy, and took him on a brief tour.
"The well water's brackish, so no one wanted it. But that's the sort of thing mages are good with.
"We're just gotten started, but the four of us work well together. The girls decided that they didn't like the way the magewife system in Ash worked, and that they just weren't going to get married unless they wanted to. So far Klyn, Hemli and Sommer have married Nic, Loc, and Tir, leaving us poor mages to our bachelor pursuits."
"With the other seven women?"
"Exactly. Life is rough. We've got a boat, but it's a bit small. Now we need a wagon or maybe even a coach. And horses and . . . "
The Auld Wulf sold them the carriage and foursome, and politely declined an orgy in his honor. Then he traveled home.
"Relax," he smiled at Ask. "Logic and I are good friends, and although Happy may beat me for introducing them, I do believe Rufi's taken an interest."
"Happy?" Happy looked out the kitchen door at him. "Happy hasn't seen the man for a year and a half, and then not for a couple of years prior. So don't go calling me a wife, eh?"
"I wouldn't dare," he assured her. "Is Idea in there as well?" She was and he reported on her daughter and grandchildren.
Ask snickered as she passed him later. "You've turned into quite the gossip."
"Have not!"
"And Rustle's says it's about time all of us witches got back to Rip Crossing."
"Good. The Army out in the New lands needs a bunch of metal; bars, horseshoes, doorknobs and locks. Would you four witches like to earn some money while practicing your metal work?"
Ask brightened. She'd gone through most of her funds.
"Talk to Dydit. He's got the contract to supply the whole northern area."
***
Once she had a corridor from Ash to Rip's Summer Camp, Rustle spent the summer moving from one task to the next. Additional fencing at the Summer Camp. Trying to figure out the "Museum of Art." Wizard's school. Checking on the Rip Crossing witches in Ash, and working with the Ash witches herself. Wondering if she was one of them, or if she ought to call herself a wizard now. Checking that the newly empowered wizard-mages of Rip Crossing hadn't killed themselves. Then back to the Museum of Art.
She allotted plenty of time for Xen, who obviously thrived following around on his father's heels. She tried to stay business-like, not pushing, not . . . well, she really couldn't tackle the God of War and drag him off to the nearest bed, so she tried to not think too much about it.
She almost hated to bring everyone back to Rip Crossing. But the small village needed their labor, for the short harvest season.
Once the grain was harvested, and the hay bundled up in bubbles for easy storage, Rustle loaded all the witches and kids into the Traveler's wagon and they moved to the old ruined town two ash strips beyond Summer Camp. They turned the horses loose and surveyed the oddities eroding out of the dirt. If Lord Andre knew what we were about to do, he'd throw a fit.
"Hmm, a Triad of Half Moons, a Triad of kids, soon to be an oversized Triad of Infants and a Triad of Dogs." Ask snickered.
Rustle sputtered. "Hey! You shouldn't joke about serious witch stuff like that!"
Xen stuck his tongue out at Ask. "I'm not a witch. I can't be in a triad."
"You forgot the Triad of Horses." Whoop stood up and looked around for the Terrible Twins and Phantom. Rustle knew they were close, Phantom was under orders to keep his girlfriends near the work party.
"Yeah, and Rustle is the odd witch out, not that the Mount Frost Pyramid will acknowledge that Rustle is a Full Moon," Verse sniffed at this slight to her Eldest Sister and picked up a chunk of rusty steel. It steamed slightly and the rusty color faded as she removed the oxygen from the iron. Then the metal quivered and flattened into a shovel head. She grinned in sheer delight. "Ha! Call me slow, would you?"
Whoop grabbed a disintegrating ball of rust and produced a horse shoe.
"Can you make some Phantom sized?" Rustle asked. "His are getting thin."
"Sure. Then can I practice on small things?"
"We have orders for locks, latches, door knobs, hinges, screws and nails," Rustle grinned. "Take your pick. Oh, forks and spoons." She walked over to one of the rust collections they'd broken out of the ash. "These are so damn strange. The Auld Wulf says they were once wagons made of thin metal, and these big blocks of rust are what made them go." She started reducing the rust and forming iron bars of an easily handled and stacked size. The others needed the practice shaping things, so she'd do the bulk iron the army would forge later, as they needed things.
"I can't believe your Dad landed us a contract for the army." Whoop plunked down the fourth horse shoe. "Now, how do you make all those pieces in door latches and locks and knobs?"
"First thing is, they all have to be exactly the same, so you can exchange parts when something breaks. The tolerance for sizes is tiny, when you're working with mechanisms like this." Rustle pulled out her example and disassembled it. "First, make one of each of these parts. Meditate. Hold the part, feel its exact size . . . "
Two weeks of intensive work and they were experts. Rustle delivered the whole load with a combination of traveling and corridors.
By the time she returned, the other witches had made metal panels for roofs, and even some longer beams.
Ras and Siggi were there, with a wagon to haul the panels back to Summer Camp. They watched the witches work, and tried to copy what
they were doing.
Rustle broke the process down into pieces. "First you pull out the iron—that's a bigger job with proper iron ore, but even this stuff has sand and ash inside it. Whatever it was. Then you pull off the oxygen . . . "
They laughed uproariously at the "little girl rhymes" witches had always used to shape the flow of power. But they worked at it, and by the end of the week were almost as fast as the witches. And had a heavy load to haul back to Summer Camp.
Rustle watched them drop out of sight over the far ridge. "I need to drill everyone on making things with teamwork. You three are a strong Triad, now that Ask has advanced. And now all the guys . . . they'll probably work best in fours or eights." And break out the books for Xen, about time to start math, since he's already reading . . .
"Ooo . . . " Verse clutched her belly.
"Or we could hitch up the horses and head for Summer Camp. Just in case you need a midwife with more experience."
Whoop sucked in a sudden breath.
Rustle shook her head. "Must you two do everything together? I think maybe we'll just travel back to Ash, so there are plenty of midwives around." She looked around. "Phantom, take the mares to Summer Camp. And if I'm not back, go down to the Rip with Havi for the winter."
The horse nodded.
And I'm not even surprised, anymore.
Chapter Twenty-nine
1374 Late Summer
The New Lands
"Mercy?" Harry looked around the pretty mansion. With the old shields down he'd been able to jump straight to here. "Here" being the middle of nowhere. A bleak and unpicturesque stretch of the New Lands surrounded the mansion. What has Mercy been doing for five months? Pouting?
There was a thump from the library, and Mercy walked out, smiling at him.
He sighed. She'd always played him perfectly, and he'd always known it. "You look so good. I should think about how to take a few years off my appearance."