Sigrun sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Ah, war. The pace of technological and magical innovation continues to increase.”
Adam decided not to mention that Bodi and Erida had approached JI and the University’s Physics department for ways in which to develop spells that could do what Kanmi had done to the lake around Baal-Hamon’s prison. Liberate the hydrogen and ignite it, but in much more controlled, shaped, and deadly fashions. It would take a few years to simulate on the calculi, after all. And chances were, they would never see it used.
Iunius 17, 1992 AC
“Our top story today is the retreat of Persian forces from the area of West Assyria,” the far-viewer chattered in the next room over. “Faced with inexplicable geographical changes, including the presence of mountains and forest where desert had once been the only obstacle besides Roman garrisons between them and cities like Damascus, Tyre, and Jerusalem, Persian forces have moved back to their beachhead on the Caspian Sea. Rome has once again attempted to convince the current Emperor, Antiochus XIII, to return to the bargaining table. However, with the expulsion of Roman diplomats six weeks ago, and Rome’s retaliatory expulsion of Persian diplomats, re-opening negotiations will be difficult . . . .”
Minori sighed. Antiochus XII had been stubborn. His fourth or fifth son, who’d taken power about twelve years ago, had proven to be almost entirely paranoid, probably as the result of an upbringing that had involved at least one attempted palace coup during the early seventies, and had seen Chaldea, Media, and East Assyria leave the Persian Empire completely.
She unplugged her rice maker, and spooned out servings. One for her, Masako, the grandchildren, her mother . . . and one for Kanmi. She set the rest aside for the moment, and carried Kanmi’s small portion into her bedroom. Inclined her head before the portrait there, and lit a fresh stick of incense for him, before putting the plate in front of the picture. “Hurry up and come home,” she told him, a little chidingly. “Loki beat you back. Admittedly, he left first.” No answer, but Minori closed her eyes, and concentrated. The more scientific parts of her mind wondered sometimes if she were deluding herself. Told her that the evidence she’d thought she’d seen was the product of a longing heart. The rest of her? The sorcerer, the Shinto, the avatar of Amaterasu? Believed in the possibility of hope. Come home, Kanmi. I should tell you that the world needs you. But it’s simpler than that. I need you. Come home.
A breath of wind rippled against her face. Cool, with a hint of the sea. Minori smiled faintly. “You hate the ocean, Kanmi,” she told him. “That’s your answer? Is it because you want me to remember your brothers, who tried to drown you, or the inland sea, where Baal’s shrine was?”
Another breath of wind, more pronounced this time. “Still getting ocean there. You want me to go to the sea?” She waited. Nothing. “You want me to go to Tyre?”
A set of crystal wind-chimes clattered behind her, noisily. She could almost see, in her mind, Kanmi slapping at them with one hand, in annoyance. She’d caulked every window in this house, herself, to ensure that there were no errant drafts. No one had walked in behind her. No hint of sorcery in the air, and Amaterasu kept the house-kami at bay for these sessions. Minori exhaled. There was reason to hope, and that uncurled in her chest like a sproutling from a seed. “All right. Not me going there. Something is coming from the sea?”
This time, the breeze tickled the back of her neck. “If you mean the kraken, Sigrun and I already fought it.”
The wind chimes clattered again. “Wind chimes mean no. A breeze on my face means yes.”
Another breath of wind. Salt and sand aromas. “You’re still drawing my attention to the ocean.”
A second breeze. “Something from the ocean?”
Another breeze. “Fish.” Clatter. “A water-spirit.” A pause, and then a clatter. Minori thought, rapidly. “Undersea seismological events?” A clatter so loud she thought the chimes might have impaled themselves in the ceiling. “I don’t know, Kanmi-kun. Is it alive?”
No response. “Was it alive once?” Breath of wind, and she sighed in relief. “Now we might be getting somewhere. Someone’s been buried at sea?”
A hesitation, and then a breath of wind across her face. “Let’s try this. I’ll say the letters of the Roman alphabet, and you stop me when I get to the correct letter.” She ran through them patiently until the letter p, and then again for the letter a, then all the way through for zeta, upsilon . . . . Minori frowned. “Pazu,” she finally said. “Pazuzu?” The breeze touched her face like a caress, and Minori smiled. “Oh, Kanmi-kun while it’s wonderful to have this much, it would be so much easier if we could just talk to each other.”
The breeze surrounded her at that moment, gliding up from her toes and making her hair blow upwards. Minori laughed at that, joyously. This was the most powerful reply she’d yet received. “I suppose I know what’s on your mind, then.”
Inwardly, she asked Amaterasu, Can you see him?
I see something, the goddess assured her, calmly. It is small. Barely visible. But it has a Name, which it is holding tightly to itself. Look. Amaterasu’s vision swam across Minori’s eyes, and for an instant, she could see a small, amorphous blob that looked vaguely like a jellyfish made of red light, bobbing around the room. “Kanmi . . . is that you? Am I seeing you?” she murmured.
The blob floated closer, and she could see, this time, as a tendril of light separated from the rest, and caressed her face. “Am I blocked from hearing you, because I am bound to Amaterasu?” She directed the question within, as well.
I would not block you from hearing your beloved, any more than from hearing Lassair or Saraid. He is your beloved. If this is your Emberstone, he is yet too weak to make himself heard, I think.
The blob of light vanished, and Minori sighed in frustration. To be so close, to have made actual progress . . . if not progress she could tell her daughter about . . . and yet still so far from the actual goal. Is this how Tenjin began? she asked the goddess she currently carried.
More or less. We helped him along, however. He and his poetry had been dear to many of us in life, and we found his death . . . offensive.
Minori headed back out to the dining area, and began serving the rest of the food—just vegetables and sauce tonight—smiling happily, if obscurely, to herself. Her mother was a permanent houseguest, but Masako was there with Shiori, Astegal, and her family’s newest addition: an adoptive son named Hannibal. The boy was Carthaginian by birth, but had been possessed by a daeva three months ago. As such, he had bat-like wings, without feathers, but still covered in soft, sensitive human skin, with follicles and hair. It was a little disquieting; he’d retained his original skin and eye coloration, but had to dress more or less like a young harpy, which meant tunics that fastened at the shoulders, and didn’t have much back coverage. He was quiet and shy, and a little older than Shiori . . . but his new family seemed to be helping to draw him out of himself. Minori had gotten the whole story out of Solinus, and she knew that Masako was bursting with pride in her husband for his rescue of the child. But adoption shouldn’t be done on a whim, and it had occasioned some changes in their lives. Particularly Masako’s, since she was the one staying home with the children at the moment.
Minori had watched her mother’s eyes widen, almost comically, the first time this new grandchild had been introduced to her, and then the exquisite manners that had carried Aika throughout her life had surged to the fore, and she’d smiled and bowed slightly to Hanni, and had included him in the calligraphy lesson that Shiori was receiving that afternoon. Neither child had any real control yet, but the point was learning control and fine motor skills. And patience.
Hanni had a variety of emotional problems as a result of having been kidnapped, experimented on, possessed, and then forced to kill while being possessed. Minori made very sure that he got just as much love as Shiori and Astegal whenever Masako brought the children over, and respected her daughter anew for having the patience to deal wi
th the child.
For the moment, however, he was involved in trying to master chopsticks, while Shiori laughed at him at the end of the table. Considering his talons, it wasn’t going to be an easy or simple learning process. Min turned her attention back to her daughter. “Masako, you’re sure you’re quite ready to take over teaching the basic classes at the university?” she asked.
“I’ve been training battle-sorcerers in the Legion for some time. It’s not my favorite task,” Masako admitted. “I would rather be on the front lines with Sol. But the children came along. Astegal was unexpected, and I attribute him entirely to apples.” Minori’s and even Aika’s eyebrows rose. Masako flushed, but didn’t elaborate, just hastening to add, “But in the end, I have to make a choice based on what’s best for them. So yes. My commitment to the Legion is over, and if Jykke and I take over the lower-end classes, that frees you and Erida to pursue research. Unless you’re going to be doing something else?”
“I’ll very likely be reinforcing the southern border and seaport outposts, when I’m not researching, teaching, or working with the refugees from Nippon,” Minori admitted. “We’ll be mining the areas that are not standard shipping lanes.”
“What if they just decide to clear the mines by exploding them, deliberately?” her mother asked, her thin hand poised in the air, holding her chopsticks perfectly, before reaching over and to correct Hanni’s grip on his own.
“The amount of noise should get everyone’s attention very nicely,” Minori answered.
There was a knock at the front door. She was expecting more company tonight, but not this early, so she sent out a cautious pulse of energy through the front door as she moved towards it. Her home had more wards and alarms per square foot than were probably necessary, but she had the Imperial Regalia stored in a secret compartment in the study floor, a double lead-lined vault with a layer of sea-water sealed between the lead sheets. It deterred X-rays and most spirit-based searches. She’d also embedded spells in tiny pieces of quartz that would respond to any introduced electromagnetic fields by scattering the field, thus preventing a metal detector from finding the cache. There were even binding circles worked into the floors here and there, concealed by Carthaginian rugs and tatami mats. Minori sometimes felt like a paranoiac, but the Imperial Regalia couldn’t fall into the wrong hands. And of course, there were other factors: long ago, she’d been captured and tortured; she currently lived with her elderly mother . . . and she had enough information in her brain to be worth kidnapping. She suspected that Amaterasu would not permit her to be taken prisoner, but it was better not to rely on the kami.
So she exhaled when her spell revealed a single person standing outside, and peered through the peephole. Her eyebrows rose, and she unlocked the door, dispelling the warding in so doing. “Lassair,” she said, smiling. “It’s lovely to see you again. I’ve been expecting you.”
You have? Lassair’s currently-manifested body had a short cap of brilliant red hair, and twin phoenix feathers tucked behind her ears. May I come in and speak with you?
“Of course,” Minori said, and stepped out of the way, gently directing Lassair around the various binding circles on the floor. “Here, let me make another plate for you . . . .”
No, no, please, don’t trouble yourself. Lassair took a moment to greet Masako, and coo over her grandchildren, including Hanni, who stared at her, wide-eyed, before taking a seat in the living room. I can amuse myself until you’re done.
Minori cleared the dishes, and helped her mother to her room, while Masako got started bathing the children and getting them ready for bed. They’d all be spending the night, a rare treat for everyone concerned. Minori took a breath, and entered the living room with a tray of cups and a teapot, really unsure of what to expect from Lassair.
The spirit gave her a brilliant smile as Minori took a seat on the floor, and began to pour the tea. I wanted to thank you for taking time away from your work to look after my children.
“We were between semesters. And now that summer session has begun, Trennus has hired a very good pedagogue for them all.” Minori’s lips curled up behind her cup. The pedagogue didn’t realize it, but the woman had been vetted by Minori, Saraid, Sigrun, and Trennus, with a full background check by the Praetorians. Trennus’ children had gone from obscure Pictish nobility to the children of the sitting king, overnight, after all.
Minori blinked as Lassair slipped off the couch and curled up beside her on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees, which made Lassair’s white skirt hike up considerably. Minori was quite conscious of the suddenly decreased space between them, and kept her fingers closed around her cup. “Have you met her yet? She’s Carthaginian, actually.”
I have not been back to the house yet. I spent a week or two— not that time persists there—in the wild Veil. I have not been there since Tawantinsuyu, actually. The Wood has been where I have chosen to stay, when I go to the Veil. Lassair sounded uncertain. Saraid and Flamesower have told me I would be welcome there, still. It seems unfair, in some respects. He was bound to me, he used my power to build it, but in truth, he made it a place for her. And now, I feel uncomfortable going there.
Minori opened her mouth to reply, and then wisely took another sip of tea instead. Lassair looked at her. You were about to say something.
“Only that he made the place for both you and her, with good intentions in his heart.” Minori bit down on her tongue. Lassair was a bundle of contradictions. Ageless wisdom, unbridled passion, and occasionally, very adolescent thought patterns . . . or at least, impetuous decision-making processes. And the fact that she still referred to Trennus as Flamesower, when everyone else called him Worldwalker, was . . . interesting. “Looking at it through the lens of the present, of course it looks bad, but in ten years’ time, you may feel differently.” Also, the power he used to build it was, in part, his own. You held his soul, which empowered you. Provided a conduit. I would be willing to wager that what Trennus used to build the Woods was his mind, his heart, and his memories. It might have nothing at all with power, and everything to do with will.
Amaterasu whispered, You are enjoying the opportunity to keep your thoughts to yourself aren’t you?
Yes. It has been a rare thing around Lassair. Minori’s secret smile curled her lips behind her.
Lassair regarded her with wide ruby eyes, oblivious to the by-play. You are doubtless correct, Truthsayer. And your Name is, once again, who you are. You always speak the truth.
“As I see it, yes. I do not always tell the whole truth, however. I have been known to keep silent.” Minori winced. The Imperial Court. And, more recently, Reginleif’s secret, and now Sigrun’s. One had already come back to haunt her. The other . . . she hoped would not.
Then tell me, Truthsayer, and speak the whole truth. Do you not find me fair?
Minori choked on her tea, and set the cup aside to cough, indelicately, into her hand. “Forgive me,” she said, shaking her head. “Lassair, that is . . . singularly insecure-sounding of you.” At the back of Min’s head, a goddess laughed.
Lassair frowned slightly, and rolled to her side, extending her legs, and propping her head on one hand, her elbow on the floor. Her expression became coquettish. I recall kissing you before, and your enjoyment of it, she said. You and Emberstone often used to jest about inviting me to your bed, or at least, about your mutual fantasies of such.
Minori looked down at the gold-kissed expanse of leg thus revealed, not to mention the curve of the breasts pressing against Lassair’s white, thin, low-cut tunic, and then brought her eyes back up to meet the garnet gaze once more. “Yes,” she said, and cleared her throat. “But you’ll notice that we never acted on those fantasies. Not even when you would overlap me, making me young again.” Her lips quirked up. I never thought about it that way before. Kanmi preferred me to Lassair. Even old and lumpen. That is a rather amazing compliment.
But you are young again now, without any such assistance from me. You do
not take other men or women to your bed. And I have always been very fond of you . . . and I have a need to rekindle who I once was. Lassair rolled up, and slipped forwards on her hands and knees, like a cat, her eyes amused and interested at once. I can be as female as you want. As male as you like. Anywhere in between, really. I’m really quite fond of hermaphrodite form, all the perfections of both genders at once. She leaned forwards, and brushed Minori’s lips with her own. Sweet and gentle, no passion yet, not the teasing way she had once kissed . . . well, any of the lictors, really.
Minori blinked, and then gently pulled away, looking over Lassair’s shoulder as Masako poked her head in to ask, “Mother, I can’t find the data crystals on the topic of hydrogen separation for the calculi—oh!” Masako flushed.
Minori looked at her daughter, her face an expressionless mask. “They’re inside the locked cabinet. It’s a combination lock, and warded to me, specifically. Try to get inside of it, and everything inside will be subjected to a magnetic wave that should erase it. So if you don’t mind waiting, I can get those out for you after your Aunt Lassair has left for the evening.” Careful words, reinforcing the relationships in her daughter’s mind, as she picked up her teacup, serene and unaffected, at least outwardly. Inwardly, she realized, Lassair is usually far more aggressive than this. She is . . . courting me? Tailoring her approach to what she thinks I will be more receptive to, I think.
The Goddess Embraced (The Saga of Edda-Earth Book 3) Page 34