by Pam Uphoff
Chapter Seven
Summer Solstice 1397
Mount Frost, Foothills Province, Section 2 , Kingdom of the West
Heliotrope panted and kept going.
Just ahead of her, Deena Janic groaned.
"I always thought of myself as fit. Carrying a baby while climbing to high altitude is showing me the error of my ways."
Heliotrope nodded. "Even with nearly everything stuck in bubbles . . . I've done this before and it never gets any better." I didn't even bring Tunguska with me. I ought to have gone by the Island and picked her up. Been a hypocrite and showed everyone what a great mother I am.
Yellow, Fuchsia, and Quicksilver had climbed the bloody damned volcano every summer, all their lives. They'd snickered at Deena's pile of camping gear, and showed her how to pop it all in a bubble, gave her a second bubble to fill with food, and Q took Kinkajou regularly, to give Deena a break. Even with nothing but a baby and two lightweight metal handles to carry, it was a long hike, and the steep ascent at the end was a real killer.
Obsidian, with four children—Rufi and Mars were staying with Kipp over the Solstice—kept the three toddlers bubbled, occasionally bringing them out one at a time to run around and wear themselves out. Wavelength was out full time. Five years old. A mere mountain was insufficient to exhaust her energy.
Fuchsia was playing Proper Witch, leading a triad of her old friends during all the practices they'd run during the two week hike.
Heliotrope had watched Deena try to quash a flash of delight over that, and pulled her into working with Yellow, trading off with Navy and Zebra Stripe. Old Gods, these witch names! Yellow was a redhead, Navy had deep rich reddish brown hair, and Zebra was a gorgeous golden blonde—of both hair and complexion. I need to stop wearing purple.
Wavelength danced up the trail ahead of them. Inexhaustible. Impossibly brilliant red and blonde streaked hair—or scales when she turned into a dragon.
Which is eccentric, even for a witch child. And if it sounds odd to me, a City raised witch, how must it sound to someone with no power and no experience with magic all around?
They spotted Centauri with Wavelength and some other girls a bit later, and slowed down to simply keep them in sight.
"Where do they get the energy?" Deena moaned, watching them chase each other and then stop to climb huge boulders.
Q snickered. "Just wait. Kinkajou is maybe two years away from running you ragged." She winced suddenly. "And I really wish Wavelength would stop acting like she can fly without transforming."
The bright red hair was back in motion, so apparently no harm was done. They topped the ridge and dropped back into the tree line and followed the old path. They camped for the night by a freezingly cold lake with snow showing on the north side of trees.
Heliotrope exchanged a few exasperated glances with Deena as Fuchsia nagged at Centauri, all evening and through breakfast. Talking about how Centauri ought to really try to grasp power this time . . .
"Pushy bitch." Deena's voice wasn't nearly quiet enough
Fuchsia gave them both poisonous glares and stalked out of camp ahead of even the children. That night she had a few snippy things to say about children with suicidal tendencies to leap from tall trees, and how her daughter shouldn't associate with inhuman creatures, and why the pyramid even allowed . . . Quicksilver sat down and played juggling fireballs with Wavelength.
"I didn't dare open my mouth." She confessed later. "I'd have said something unfortunate about her Deni being the son of a Cove Islands prostitute who got tupped in rapid sequence by a mage and a goat wizard. Since some of my best friends and courtesy uncles are goat boys, and or Deni's kids, it would have involved a lot of guilty feelings later. Not that Granddad would care."
Deena snorted. "Not to mention so many of your nieces being descended from goat boys on their mothers' sides, unless I've got those Farmer Girls antecedents mixed up."
So casual and uncaring about the fathers, or how the sex happened. They love their children. What's wrong with me?
"Nope. Kile and Nile are Cor's and Havi's daughters, and Lava and Gavi have not-mages for fathers. They've all got huge numbers of the magic genes, just not the power genes."
"And that wine selects for magic genes, so all Xen's kids will be powerful, right?"
"Right. Although I'm not sure Xen could produce an unpowerful kid."
Deena nodded. "He just flat glows, except when he shuts up tight, which is most of the time, now. Why I don't climb all over that man . . . "
Q laughed. "Because he's the God of Spies, and you suspect an intimate relationship might get a bit odd? Or that at a minimum he'll never be allowed to find true love or even a reasonably exclusive relationship?"
"Heliotrope, I wish you had never come up with that God of Spies theory. Or at least not told me." She swung the wiggly Kinkajou down off her back so she could burn up some energy.
Q grinned. "It fits so well . . . Dad says the last time there were so many multiple source people around the archetypes splintered into a bunch of little gods. Every crossroad had a god, every village a herb wife, every army had its own war god. He says it's splintering differently, this time. The female archetypes—old gods! Azure's the Good Wife. Inky's the Trouble Maker. Kohl's the Dumb Blonde, Scarlett's the Easy Lay. He thinks Yellow may be turning into the Femme Fatale, and that you should kiss her feet for saving you from the role."
Heliotrope froze. Am I the Bad Mother? The Goddess of Neglect?
Deena wrinkled her nose. "Yeach. And I'm not that powerful. And what about you?"
"The Smart Girl Who Can't Get A Date."
Deena sputtered and tried not to laugh.
"We've got a Black Widow, an Ice Princess . . . "
They all sighed in unison at Fuchsia's voice from ahead. "Ice Princess or Pushy Mother?"
"Control Freak?" Q suggested. "I really hope the archetypes never settle solidly. Charity dances with Xen's friends are getting old."
Heliotrope frowned. "Maybe you need to spend time in another World? A non-magical one?"
"That's a strong possibility. I think Xen is going to have to move out of Karista and its large close population. He seems to act a lot less ruthlessly when he's sleeping in the country with all his dogs and horses."
Deena raised an eyebrow. "Really? Hmm, I have an Evil Stepmother, but she doesn't have a magical bone in her body, thank the Old Gods."
"You are pretty strong, Deena, wait till Kinkajou grasps power and you get another jump in abilities. You could be the High Priestess of the God of Spies." Q dodged her half hearted punch. And frowned up the hill. "What is that woman screeching about now?"
The last two days, they stayed above the tree line, on bare rock, and snow that even the summer sunshine hadn't melted. They camped for the last time down slope from the spire on the highest part of the volcano's rim. With the timing honed by experience, they arrived the afternoon before the night of the solstice. They built a bonfire of the wood they'd brought along, cooked dinner over the coals, and sorted out the kids.
"I don't see why Centauri can't be up at the base, she's nine. She could grasp power this year." Fuchsia, again.
Curious turned to glower at her. "The girls at the base have started their periods. Centauri has another three of four years before she's likely to grasp power."
Yellow leaned closer to Deena and lowered her voice. "I keep hoping Answer will eat her." She opened her bubble and eased the sleeping Jaguar in. "Deena? Do you want to stash Kinky in here too? Not that they'll actually experience any time, but it always seems nicer with company."
Deena patted Kinkajou's back and set her beside the other baby.
"By the calendar they're both almost four years old. I've got to stop bubbling her."
"Yeah. Well, you were away for over a year. I just keep using it for when I'm on duty. Or desperate for a long hot bath and a good night's sleep."
Deena sighed. "Me too. But they're crawling, almost ready to walk. So they're ne
arly a year old, right?"
"Right."
And Tunguska is several weeks old . . . how long has it been since I even looked at her? Six months? I'd better check her, when I get back. Less than half an hour inside the bubble, but no baby should be left to cry for so long . . . and she was sleeping, not crying. I am not a bad mother!
Yellow closed the bubble and slid the handles under her pack.
"I'm getting better at the bubbles, but when they've got kids in them, I'd much rather have handles, so I know they won't just drift off." Yellow shrugged. "Everyone else just pins them down wherever."
Fuchsia, shoulders stiff, stomped over to where Centauri and Deimos were making funny faces at Wavelength, just for the fun of making her laugh. "Eclipse is staying out with her sister Raven. Don't you want to stay out too?"
Centauri shook her head and scrunched closer to the other girls.
"Here, Fuchsia, they can all go in here, together." Obsidian opened her own bubble—no need for handles, she could manipulate them directly. "I've got the littler kids in already."
Deimos looked across the camp at her mother, and slipped away at a summoning wave.
"Centauri doesn't want to be in with a bunch of babies." Fuchsia glared at her daughter, now with her arm around the shoulders of the younger witch. "Oh, here! Get in mine. This is ridiculous." The girls scrambled happily in. She snapped the bubble shut and stuck what looked to Deena like absolutely nothing on her sleeping bag.
Obsidian rolled her eyes and put her handful of nothing down and marched off to climb the final slope.
Heliotrope suppressed a moan and followed.
The apex of the old volcano was crowded with witches.
Almost four Triads of the Dark Crescent. Three Waning Half's and two Full Moons. The Half Moons and Crescents were so crowded, Heliotrope didn't even try to count. As a visitor, she wasn't in a practiced Triad, but squeezed in with Yellow and Deena. Down on the slope of the mountain, the girls who were showing signs of puberty clustered, hoping that the stimulation of the ceremony would trigger their grasp of power.
The Moon rose just a bit before the Sun set, and the singing began in the glorious wash of sunset colors.
Ibis yipped in surprise and laughed suddenly, juggling a ball of glowing power. Her friends cheered and shoved her up on to the crowded Crescent's tier. Her mother started singing a slightly different version of the greeting song. Now that Heliotrope listened, several women were singing counterpoint. There'd been some who had passed menopause, and some who had given birth or become grandmothers.
I never sang my motherhood song. She wiped tears from her face and tried to remember the words. I can't . . . I can't even make myself try.
More bursts of light, and two more girls crowded upward. Jacana and Kestrel, both fifteen year olds.
She knew the standard songs and sang with them all, for hours. She could feel the rising power that peaked just before midnight, when Oriole and Quetzal grasped power and climbed up.
As the power waned, they sang the Moon down and slowly climbed down from the spire and then they all sang their way down the trail in the remaining moonlight until they reached the high camp and settled down to catch a few hours of sleep.
Heliotrope heard Fuchsia complaining again and sighed. "I'm going to try to be a better mother."
Q thumped her shoulder. "You can do it."
Yellow yawned. "I'm going to catch a few hours of sleep before I get Jaguar out."
"Good idea." Deena crawled into her blankets. "I wonder if I'll be able to move, let alone walk down that steep trail, tomorrow, or later today or . . . " her words faded into a mumble.
Heliotrope smiled. You don't have to obsess to be a good mother. You can . . . prioritize. That is how to use bubbles. I'll start as soon as I get back to the Island.
She snuggled down into her bedroll. I'm a witch. The father doesn't matter. Except . . . Asti will be the father of any other children I have. I just need to put some effort into connecting with Tunguska. She's just a baby witch, not . . . whatever Boogeyman I've been nurturing in my head. I just need to learn to be a good mother.
I'll move back to the Island and get started.
And blinked sleepily in the bright sunshine. Smelled coffee and decided she really could get up after all. The sun was still low; she hadn't slept long. She opened her bubble and checked the contents. "I've got bacon, or do we want something faster, so we can get on the trail?"
"Oh, let's get down lower, and make a big dinner before we get a proper night's sleep." Obsidian reached down and plucked absolutely nothing off of her bedroll, and opened it. "All right Kiddos, you guys ready to . . . " She broke off and stared down into the bubble in consternation. "This isn't my bubble, it's empty." She turned back and looked at the bedroll.
Every witch in camp grabbed for their bubbles. Yellow's disgorged Kinkajou and Jaguar . . .
"Empty!" Fuchsia threw her blankets aside and glared at the bare ground. "Mine's gone!" her glare snapped over to the younger children. "Have you lot been playing games? Did any of you touch any of the bubbles?"
Lots of shrugs. Eleven year old Raven scowled back. "We didn't do anything, we can't even see them. Nobody but the witches did anything to the bubbles."
"Which witches? Who touched my things?" Fuchsia marched over and glared at the girl.
Obsidian, hands clenched, joined her.
"I don't know their names." The girl hunched her shoulders. "I haven't seen them for a while."
"Oh no." Quicksilver looked pale. She held out her hand and an illusion sprung up.
Four women. Jade, the black widow with dozens of murders behind her. Sickly little Teri, two other women she didn't know.
Deena hissed. "The witches we've been hunting for. Assassins."
Raven poked the image of Jade. "She changed her hair color, but that's one of them."
***
After a chaotic morning, Heliotrope joined Deena and Yellow when Q teleported them to Karista to report the kidnapping.
She grabbed a taxi and hustled down to the old temple ruins, and the corridor to the Island.
Bloody illogical emotions. Two other women's children are kidnapped, so I suddenly must go cuddle the baby I don't love? Or was I just fooling myself all along?
She trotted up the stairs to her room, closed the door behind her in relief.
Tunguska is right . . . there? I must have put her over here with my winter wardrobe . . .
Fur coat. Dresses. Boots . . .
Heliotrope searched again, fingers starting to tremble. It was right here. I pinned the bubble right here!
She stepped back. Walked stiffly out of her room.
"Jeeze, Helio, are you feeling alright? You look . . . odd." Scarlet frowned. "I'll get mother."
Heliotrope started to shake her head . . . shivered.
"Maybe you should sit down?" Indigo nudged her back into her room.
"Indigo . . . you keep your babies in bubbles a lot. Did you ever have any trouble with it?" Heliotrope swallowed. "Lose them?"
Indigo looked at her in disbelief . . . faded to horror as she scrambled up and ran for her own room.
Heliotrope shuddered and followed.
"They're right here. I know they're right here!" Indigo started looking through other bubbles, started ripping them open and searching frantically.
Running footsteps, witches crowding in, racing off to their own rooms . . . growling dogs and an upset god . . .
Tunguska was gone. Raphael and Gabriel were gone.
"We know we had intruders, two months ago." Hell was pale. "We thought, kids on a dare."
Heliotrope shook her head. "Jade and Teri just took Wavelength, and the kids Obsidian adopted. Maybe they came here first, looking for the Hors' babies."
***
"So Teri wanted Wavelength and just took the whole bubble, left an empty one so Fuchsia didn't notice immediately."
Xen eyed his sister' white fingered grip on the table edge.
<
br /> "She's changed her appearance, but I got a good enough mental picture from the kids who saw her to be sure it was her. Jade's changed her hair color, but still looked familiar to the kids. And there were two other women, the missing Veronian witches.
"So the Hors de Combat wanted their three. They must have been watching, and seen where the bubbles they wanted were placed. They whipped into the camp, grabbed the two bubbles and were off. We couldn't track them on the rock very well, but there were a few traces. I think they had their own corridor, and collapsed it after they left." Q glanced over her shoulder. "Fuchsia . . . I didn't think the Ice Queen could get that frantic. I called for Dad—got a dirty look from Answer—but the kids are long gone." She looked the other direction as Easterly walked in.
"Xen, we were thinking about sending you t'Cadent, t'find out if t'Veronian witches went home. Now it's definitely on. As quickly as possible."
"Right. If they've got corridors, they could be there already. Or anywhere."
They all looked around at an uproar in the stairwell. Trump stalked out, Heliotrope beside her, half her pyramid on their heels.
"We have three missing babies. Who do I need to kill?"
Chapter Eight
Early Summer 1397
Black Island, Southwest Cific Ocean
The girl stuck her lower lip out. "I am Wavelength."
Teri rolled her eyes. "Stubborn, aren't you? That's according to the Mt. Frost Pyramid scheme. We're the Black Island Gang. We should do something dangerous for our naming scheme. Weapons, perhaps. We've already got two. Arrow is my little girl. We can skip B and C, to avoid confusion with Betelgeuse and Centauri. Dagger is Jade's."
Jade nodded. "We've designed some incredible little girls. The maids are doing the pregnancies in the quick time bubble. We should name them Epee, Falchion, and Gauntlet."
"Epee . . . not bad." Teri shrugged. "But with the servants in fast time . . . hmm, perhaps Wavelength, Arrow and Dagger should spend time in there too. I'll make you some bedrooms, you can sleep there, then come out and it'll still be the same day, here."