by M. Gregg Roe
“Yes. Please.”
Peri was fielding rapid-fire questions from the five girls when Audrey walked away. She went over to where Saxloc, Gabriel, and Hankin were now sitting, but she simply stood nearby and listened in amazement. They were arguing about whether their adventure a year earlier to an alternate version of Andoran’s Realm had actually been real!
“None of us ever knew Wilkin’s wife,” said Gabriel thoughtfully. “We could ask him to describe her and compare that to what we saw.”
Hankin suddenly rose to his feet. “I’ve got a better idea.” He walked away but soon returned accompanied by Ermizad. Audrey could see the anger in the woman’s eyes, but she could tell that it wasn’t directed at them. “Describe the Rahilda you saw in this other world,” she ordered as Hankin resumed his seat.
Gabriel began, but Hankin soon took over. He clearly had a good memory for faces. He stopped abruptly as Ermizad held up her right hand.
“That is more than enough. The nose is wrong, she had darker skin, and there was an obvious mole beneath her left eye. Furthermore, she was large for an elf, more the size of a half-elf.”
“That’s it then,” said Saxloc with a dazed expression. “It was all in our heads.”
Ermizad’s smile was devilish. “I am pleased to learn that there is not another Rahilda out there to make mischief. I will see to it that word is sent to Birchbark and Fern of your discovery.” She turned and strode away.
Hankin sighed. “So none of it was real. Does that mean that there aren’t any other versions of our world? We may never know.”
All three of them were quiet after that, clearly lost in their own thoughts, so Audrey headed to the sideboard. She found Peri there filling a plate with a variety of food. The young woman flashed an embarrassed smile as Audrey picked up a plate of her own.
“Gabriel said that you were a little plump when you first came here,” said Peri, frowning at the pile of food on her plate. “And here I go eating again.”
“I was about how you are now,” confessed Audrey. And she had despaired of ever losing that extra weight.
“They want me to take the woman’s self-defense course that they teach at Xlee’s Martial Arts Academy, which I still think is a really weird name.” She picked up a meatball that was on a wooden skewer. “Do you think I’ll survive?”
Audrey laughed as Peri chewed her meatball. “Yes, but I’m not going to lie. It’s going to hurt. And I might be one of your instructors.”
“Then have mercy on me,” she pleaded with an expression of mock anguish.
“No promises. How’s life as a city guard?”
“Boring for the most part. It’s mostly just walking around. But it is a good way to learn about a new city and meet people.” Peri picked up another skewer and stared at it. “These are really good.”
Audrey tried one for herself, and she had to agree. Almera had hired Lucien’s, the finest restaurant in the city, to cater the party, and they hadn’t disappointed. Noting that Conrad was standing by himself, she excused herself and headed his way.
Draymund could see trouble coming, in the person of a determined Ermizad headed his way. It was a wonder she didn’t just use her telekinetic ability to shove furniture and people out of the way. She really did look like an unstoppable force of nature.
“I need to send a message to Birchbark,” were her first words after stopping directly in front of him. Meanwhile, Tabitha’s parents had wisely retreated to a safe distance, but were certainly still listening. “Perhaps an air elemental?” she inquired.
It wasn’t an unreasonable suggestion. “Unfortunately, I am not sufficiently powerful to summon one that would be willing to travel that far. I’ll take the message personally. I can fly there in less than half a day. What is so important?”
Her answer surprised him. He knew about that particular adventure his son had gone on. The alternate world that Saxloc described had sounded strange but also plausible.
Now realizing the importance of informing Birchbark and Fern as soon as possible, Draymund said, “I will leave tomorrow at daybreak, and I will ask Fern to bring me back after I have delivered the news.”
Ermizad nodded once. “Thank you, Draymund. Please inform Fern that I wish to speak with her.”
“I will.”
Ermizad strode away, and he went looking for his wife, finally finding her in the kitchen checking on things there. In the nearby library, he explained. “I’m going to make some preparations. The trip should be safe, but you never know.”
Almera put a hand on his arm. “By all means wear your armor and take your sword. Maybe you’ll happen upon a hostile dragon on the way. I would dearly love to accompany you—I’ve always wanted to see where those two live—but I would be throwing up on you before we cleared the city wall.”
That wasn’t an exaggeration on her part. Almera also became sick when traveling by boat or ship. That was one reason they had such a huge estate. She simply couldn’t travel anymore.
After a word with his son, Draymund headed upstairs. He was looking forward to being the one who would finally relieve Fern’s worries. She was the one and only Fern, and she was a good person.
Saxloc was disappointed, but he had to admit that his father was right to refuse to take him along. He had both a magic lesson and weapons training scheduled for tomorrow. And truthfully, he couldn’t fly either as fast or as far as his father could. He would simply be a hindrance.
Noticing Tabitha’s parents once again heading his way, he braced himself. Vernon and Rebekka kept making casual statements that he prayed were just jokes. With their dry sense of humor and deadpan delivery, it was sometimes hard to tell. They kept working topics like “marriage” and “grandchildren” into the conversation.
It was Vernon that Tabitha took after as far as appearance went. He had the same golden hair, brown eyes, fair complexion, and slim build. Rebekka, by contrast, was dark-haired with green eyes and swarthy skin. And she had been plump for as long as he could remember.
“Before we leave,” said Vernon in his nondescript voice. “We wanted to tell you that we have decided on a number.”
“A number?” asked Saxloc, pretending to not understand.
Rebekka smiled brightly and held up two fingers. “We would like two grandchildren—a boy and a girl. We already have suggestions for names.”
“What makes you think the two of us will be more fertile than our parents?” He instantly regretted the question when he saw the look on their faces. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Actually,” said Rebekka, “Tabitha was a surprise. We had planned to wait because we were so busy building up our business. And after our lovely daughter arrived, we decided not to have any more children. So I really can’t comment on our fertility.”
The conversation was becoming uncomfortable, but he needed to be honest. “It’s going to be years before I even start thinking about marriage and children. That’s an advantage we half-elves have over humans.”
Now they looked uncomfortable, maybe because what he had said could be construed as racist. He really just needed to shut up. Fortunately, they simply excused themselves and walked away. He promptly sought out Tabitha and told her what had happened.
“Don’t worry about it,” she told him, taking his arm. “They’ve always encouraged me to pursue half-elves because of the lifespan difference, not because they dislike humans or elves. But I know that love doesn’t respect that. After all, your mother is the offspring of a human and an elf.”
Tabitha always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better. That was one of the things he loved about her.
Cinda gently shook Polly’s shoulder and then stepped back. When startled, the girl sometimes struck out violently—a vestige of her previous life as a homeless orphan. But this time she simply yawned and rubbed her eyes. She was the only one left of the group of girls. Ermizad had taken her daughter home, and Romee and the twins had gone up to their rooms
.
“Is it time to go, Aunt Cinda?” asked Polly as she sat up. Her dress was badly wrinkled, but that was typical.
Being addressed in that manner still gave Cinda a warm feeling even if Polly wasn’t a blood relative. “Yes, it is time to go. Your mother and grandmother are waiting.”
Polly glanced over to where the two were standing. “She’s drunk again. I wish you were my mother.”
Cinda had often found herself wishing that as well. Her sister’s adoption of Polly had not been wise. At this point in her life, Elsebeth simply wasn’t suited to being a mother. Instead, it was their mother who now bore much of the burden of raising Polly. Louisa said that she didn’t mind, but Cinda could tell that it was causing her stress.
When she held out her hand, Polly sprang up from the sofa she had been sleeping on and promptly took it. After they had all donned their cloaks, Cinda led Polly outside with her sister and mother following. The walk to Louisa’s house wasn’t far, but it was surprisingly cold and blustery.
Once at the house, Elsbeth finally showed some interest in her adopted daughter, taking charge of getting the girl cleaned up and put to bed. Meanwhile, Cinda found herself being taken aside by her own mother as she prepared to depart.
“Did your sister inform you of her plans?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“She did not.”
Louisa shook her head in exasperation. “Elsebeth is traveling to Rohoville tomorrow to look for a place to live. She feels that will give her the opportunity to make a fresh start.”
“And what of Polly?” asked Cinda, now greatly concerned.
“She will remain here until Elsebeth has proven that she can properly care for the girl.”
Feeling greatly relieved, Cinda studied her mother’s face. Everyone always told her that she looked just like Louisa had when she was younger. Cinda found that reassuring because she thought her mother to still be quite good-looking. Still, the years had begun to take their toll, and the situation with Polly hadn’t helped.
Cinda smiled sweetly. “I shall aid you however I can, Mother.”
“Thank you, Daughter. I must confess that the girl has grown on me.” She shrugged and smiled. “I need something to occupy my time.”
Laughing, Cinda gave her mother a gentle hug. “I must go now. Fare well, Mother.”
“Fare well, Cinda.”
Cinda walked back to Desires smiling. Polly was in good hands.
After seeing off Kora and Gabriel—a pairing that still seemed odd to her—Medea went over to where her daughter was once again filling a small plate with food. There had been a time when Medea could eat like that herself without ever gaining weight, but no more. She was now performing sword drills daily, taking long walks, and trying to eat less in an effort to get back into shape.
“It’s a shame that Denis couldn’t come,” said Medea, staring at a plate covered with a neat arrangement of small pastries. They really did look delicious.
After finishing swallowing, she said, “He’s at work. And he would not have been comfortable here.”
That was probably true, and another sign of Marryn’s maturity. “Is there anything he could do for your business?” asked Medea, then grabbed a pastry and popped it into her mouth, where it practically melted. The taste was unfamiliar but heavenly.
Marryn shook her head firmly. “Even if there was something, it would be like charity. He wouldn’t accept. What he needs is one job that pays decently instead of two that pay poorly.”
Medea ate two more pastries while she thought it over. “One of his jobs is as a shop clerk, right?”
Marryn’s mouth was full again, so she didn’t reply immediately. “He works as a clerk at kind of a general store near where he lives.”
“Does he know anything about weapons?” she asked archly, then snatched another pastry.
Marryn’s expression went from startled to scheming in an impressively short time. “He can learn. Draymund is going to need to start training clerks before the place actually opens. I’ll talk to Denis about it. This could be the answer.”
After one last glance at the pastries, Medea walked over to where Almera was sitting and staring at the fire in the east fireplace. “It was a lovely party, Almera. Thank you for inviting us.”
“I think it went well. If you would like to have some of the leftover food, just ask the caterers to package it up for you.”
Medea ended up going home with quite a bit of food, and all the remaining pastries. It would be two sets of sword drills tomorrow. Maybe even three.
14
‡ Fern ‡
As she gazed out the sitting room window, Fern clasped her hands together, smiled wistfully, and said, “Our son is in love.”
Birchbark saw that Jethro was once again standing outside staring at Bethany with a rapt expression as she walked away from the house. She had stopped by after visiting what passed for a general store in Tritown and was now headed toward where she lived. While formulating his reply, he considered all the things wrong with his wife’s statement and the situation in general.
“First of all,” he began, causing her to look over at him, “he is not our son. He is only staying with us because he is my apprentice. Second, it’s lust, not love. He’s a teenage boy, and she is beautiful. Although not as beautiful as you, dear.”
Amused, Fern raised one eyebrow. “Must I remind you that as a Priestess of Arwon I can discern untruths? We have also been married for quite some time.”
“Third,” he continued, ignoring her attempt at feigned indignation, “Bethany is not human. Fourth, despite appearances, she is nearly twice his age. Fifth, she is only friendly toward him because she is afraid of everyone else who lives here, aside from Kaleena.” Bethany was completely incapable of hiding her emotions from what he could tell.
“Is there a sixth?” inquired Fern.
“I’m still thinking.”
“Then allow me. Sixth, according to Kaleena, Bethany will not be interested in reproduction for another five years or so. Their species is slow to mature.”
“I don’t think Jethro can wait that long,” he commented dryly. “He’s horny now.”
“Seventh, the only teenage girls here are ogres. We are going to have to do something about this, I am afraid. It may be time he returned home.”
Birchbark considered it. “It’s Winter now, so why don’t we send him back home for three months or so? I’ll give him assignments that he can do there.”
“A fine solution, beloved. I shall take him this afternoon. Do you wish to accompany us to Rohoville?”
“No, thank you.” He had just spent time there recently. Now that Fern could teleport, he could go whenever he liked. But they had both agreed not to overuse her ability.
“Very well. I shall inform Jethro and ask him to pack his things. Should we invite Bethany and Kaleena to lunch?”
Birchbark chuckled. It would give them one last chance to watch Jethro gape at Bethany and generally make a fool of himself. “I’ll go over and invite them.”
“And I will speak with our non-son,” she added, dimpling her cheeks.
After donning matching dark green cloaks, the two of them exited through the front door. He headed for the aptly named Triangular Keep, while she headed to where Jethro was still standing in a daze. The boy really was smitten.
Due to the cold, the vegetation crunched beneath his feet as he strode toward the keep, which soon came into sight. Crafted from large blocks of light gray stone, each side of the perfect triangle stretched some twenty yards, and it rose to a height of nearly thirty yards, higher than most of the trees in the vicinity. It was situated in the center of what was now known as Tritown, a village of nearly two-hundred ogres that had grown up around it.
He waved at a passing ogre couple. He was tall for a human, but much shorter than an adult ogre. Reaching the keep, he walked around to the southeast face where the door was situated. The large oak door was bound with iron, but it opened e
asily when he pulled on the handle set into its right side. The room inside was hexagonal, with smaller oak doors facing each of the keep’s sharp corners. Illumination was provided by squares of translucent stone set into the walls just below the high ceiling. To his right was a large pile of firewood while to the left was an iron furnace that was connected to ducts that ran throughout the keep. It was a modern structure in some ways.
“Lord Birchbark,” said Bethany, turning to face him with a piece of firewood cradled in her left arm. Her voice was high-pitched but melodious. “Is there something you wish?”
“Fern would like for the two of you to join us for lunch. Jethro will be leaving this afternoon to spend some time with his parents.”
“We will join you, of course.” Bethany quickly turned, opened the furnace door, and tossed the piece of wood inside before closing it and turning back around. “Does Jethro wish to have intercourse with me?”
“Yes.”
Bethany lowered her head. “I am willing, but my kind take no pleasure from the act.”
“That’s not necessary. Or appropriate.” But he wasn’t surprised that she had volunteered. She viewed herself almost as a slave. “Your species don’t derive pleasure from sex?”
“No. It was bred out because it was a distraction. We copulate only to reproduce.”
There seemed no end to the strangeness of those that he had dubbed guildlings. Physically, they resembled female half-elves, with the same slim build, narrow face, and slightly pointed ears. But otherwise they were very different as befitted an artificial melding of several species.
Bethany’s yellow-green eyes were those of a cat, slanted, abnormally large, and with a vertical slit-like pupil. Her features were delicate, including a small mouth with thin lips. She had no hair anywhere on her body. Instead of skin, she was covered with scales that were both small and flexible. The scales changed color to reflect the wearer’s mood, providing another form of communication. Her skin was currently a pale blue, which seemed to be the default.