by Pam Uphoff
In the Tavern she found a corner and watched the little dragon children. There were a bunch of girls and just a few boys, and they were really messy eaters. Various people were handing out hot drinks, and a cup came her way. She looked up and the Auld Wulf winked at her. Next to her Daddy, he was the handsomest man in the Village. She was going to marry him, when she grew up. The cup contained soup, nice and meaty, and she started wondering what dragons ate. Well, meat of course, but what did baby dragons eat? Not milk. Dragons weren't mammals. They had scales. Maybe they couldn't even eat chocolate! Maybe they ate bugs, like lizards? Or mice and rats, since they were bigger?
She finished her soup, watched the grownups try to get the little dragons into clothes and finally curled up and went to sleep. She sort of woke up when her Daddy picked her up and delivered her back to the witch's house.
The next day all the dragons came to school. The dragons were only six years old, and didn't know how to read. They didn't even know how to draw.
Rustle got to play with them, and show them how to draw. At first they wanted to eat her. They stopped when she punched their noses and pointed out that they didn't have proper teeth for eating people anymore anyway. Then they wanted to eat the chalk, and then the slates. Then they kept trying to pick her pictures up off the slate. Some of them sort of scribbled.
"They're little babies. Worse than Ask," Rustle informed the frazzled Miss Nina.
"Yes, they certainly are," she gave Rustle a hug. "And you are a very big helper."
The next day they got to watch a house being built.
The dragons were all excited because it was their house. It had a basement and three floors and an attic. The first floor had all the usual stuff, the second floor was the dragon mommy's floor. The third floor had nine bedrooms for the girl dragons, and the attic had three for the three boy dragons.
Mom and Dad did most of the work, showing the witches how they'd built all the bridges and roads in the New Lands.
One of the boy dragons fell on top of Rustle.
"Primo, you are being stupid. You're human now, you can't fly."
"But I want to." He stuck his lip out and pouted. "Being a dragon is more fun." He tried to turn his head far enough to look at his back and fell over again. He was silly, but he had the best hair, red with gold streaks.
The biggest girl dragon nodded. "We get to eat anything we want to." She had black and silver hair, which was pretty nice too. She'd been hunting.
Rustle pointed at her hand. "Let the frog go."
"No! It's MINE." She bared her teeth, then shoved the frog in her mouth and crunched down on it.
Havi made gagging hand signs behind her back.
"Septimus, you know you aren't supposed to catch and eat things any more." The Mommy Dragon crossed her arms and tapped a foot.
Septimus swallowed. "Humans are stupid. They should be food."
"And that, young lady, is why you are going to have to be a human for ten years."
The young lady rolled her eyes, but kept her mouth shut.
Rustle shrugged away the frog. There were more important things, after all. "What color are you going to paint your room?"
Septimus and Primo blinked at her. "Color?"
"Yeah, come here, I'll show you." Rustle led the way home. "I have to share my bedroom with Ultra and Ask, but it's kind of fun. We just decided we didn't like green any more and changed it to purple."
She led them through her great-grandmother's house. "The grownups have their own rooms, so they can meditate and stuff. We got the room on the end so we each have our own window. This one is mine. I helped make the quilt."
The dragons gawped a bit at all the colors, the lavender walls, the three shades of purple rug, the curtains, and especially the quilt.
"Come and see my Mom's room. She likes green and blue, see?" The oceanic blend was duly admired, and then she brought out the cookie jar.
"Bugs?" Primo looked hopefully at his cookie.
"Raisins. I'll bet that now that you are human you'll like different kinds of foods."
Havi reached for one. "Umm, it's got walnuts in it too."
"Dragons don't eat fruit and nuts." Septimus said.
Rustle smirked. "Have you ever tasted sugar?" She took a bite of her own. She'd helped cook them, and they were nice and chewy, just the way she liked them.
"What's sugar?" Primo sniffed the cookie, and finally took a bite. He blinked. "Hey, that is pretty good."
Septimus nibbled, took a bit more. Stuffed the whole cookie in. "Good!"
"Septi, you need to learn some manners. Want to have a tea party?"
The two dragons were ready to try anything, and even put up with the lessons on manners. So long as there was sugar in the tea, and the cookies kept coming.
They had a very fun winter, playing with the dragons, and Rustle worried just a little bit about missing them when they went back to the wagon.
The best thing about summer in the wagon was that Mommy and Daddy were both there all the time and so was Havi, who, even though he was almost a year younger than her, was quite smart and one of her best friends. During the summer they got to pretend that he was her brother and they got to ride Blackberry and Inky a whole bunch.
But this summer they were staying home, because of the new babies. Aunt Question had hers first, a little boy, because she was a wizard and could have boys. Mother's baby was going to be a girl, because she was a witch and witches only had daughters.
Next summer they'd probably go off in the wagon again, but that was all right, she'd probably be sick and tired of dragons by then.
They borrowed Harry's old nag for the riding lessons. The bony decrepit dun had pulled Harry's muck cart forever, and carted children around whenever asked. Even he snorted a bit over the scent of dragon, but happily carried Primo around the nearby hills with nothing but pets and scratches in return. Eventually all the dragons tried riding, but only Primo graduated to a regular horse and rode frequently.
Chapter Seven
7 Ramadan 1362yp / Winter Solstice 1361 Local
Fascia, Auralian Empire, Target Forty-two
Ahja had considered the Princess overwhelming in the Ambassador's office. Now he was rapidly redefining the meaning of overwhelming. Her four companions were bright enough. But the Daughter of the One glowed like the sun.
The attendants danced down the aisle, spreading and folding their fans, twirling and leaping, all frothy packaging for the exquisite woman pacing slowly down the center of the Amma's throne room. When the Daughter of the One reached the designated spot, the dancers froze, fans spread and still, framing a work of art.
Princess Rior stood perfectly still, her dress all pale exotic silks, more than modestly cut. Her beauty drew every eye, and Ajha could see that a fair percentage of the crowd was trying to not show a physical reaction to the sexual allure of a woman with the full Power of the One. And a strikingly beautiful one, a rare pale blonde, brilliant blue eyes contrasting with warm golden tan complexion.
It was an incredible honor for a complete outsider to be chosen to marry a Princess. The Amma actually shifted on his throne. The background information claimed that never happened. Ajha kept his face still. The aura of a Princess had nothing to do with her physical beauty; a blind man would have been able to locate her with ease.
As the representative of the One, Ambassador Alre was standing on the central sunken floor they'd just crossed. In a corner so as to not obstruct the Amma's view.
He stepped to within ten feet of the Princess and knelt. "Princess Rior, may I present the Amma of Auralia, Solti of Soltis, Ally of the One, Linton Liliam."
The Princess inclined her head. "Amma, I greet you with expectations of a long and joyous marriage."
The Amma smiled. "Princess, the expectation is shared."
The Chamberlain, called a Backa, here, stepped forward and announced the date and plans for the wedding. Six months, to ensure that the invitations had time to reach their recip
ients, and the lucky recipients had time to reach the city of Fascia in good time.
Plenty of time for the inside spy, Hoon Withione, to check out the palace and grounds, while the Info team surveyed the city and the country. They would all study the natives and start developing useful sources of information. And find the cracks and insert the wedges, just in case the One wanted everything to crumble.
Ajha studied the golden youth who stood disapprovingly to one side. Paxal Gold. He had a strong magical presence that he was just now trying to mask. Or perhaps he was shielding himself from the Princess's allure. The rumors that the Amma had befriended one of the so-called gods appeared to be true. Or, perhaps just a magician passing himself off as one of the mythological gods of the natives. Edmo had said that they would have to see if he was useful, or should be eliminated with the rest of the false magicians. Why he called them false, why they were considered dangerous rather than potential assets, hadn’t been explained.
Ajha glanced back at the Princess's entourage. Hoon was immobile, eyes down cast, glow at a low level. Her job here was not just as Rior's assistant, although that was what they all believed, Rior included. Ajha's uncle, high in the Directorate, had dropped a hint in a note. Hoon was an agent of the One. She'd watch both outside and inside. She'd carry messages and packages for Rior, but she'd have additional reports to pass along. Reports on parts of the World Rior wouldn't encounter, and reports to the Ambassador on the part of the Amma's world that was closed to him. She bore the title of Servaone, Servant of the One, as if she bore less than eighty percent of the genes of the Prophets. But in truth she was also a princess, possessed of double copies of every magic gene, and equal in power to Rior, even though she would never allow herself to project the sensuous attraction of the Princess. As a servant, she would have a lot of freedom of movement denied the pampered Princess, and she'd be using it.
And if Rior strayed, fell in love with her husband, or worse, a man not her husband, there would be a tragic accident. Or, of course, if the Amma proved difficult, and a son a better prospect as an ally . . . there would also be an accident.
Ajha held his position and watched the natives in the background as the diplomatic dance wound down. Gold was still staring at the Princess. His shields were up so hard now Ajha wouldn't have realized he had power. Interesting. When alerted and covering, his vulnerable lower frequencies got covered too. Magical attacks were only going to work with surprise, or overwhelming power. For now though, the Amma stepped forward and kissed the tips of the Princess's fingers. A trio of eunuchs appeared and escorted her away, attendants following demurely.
The One World's takeover of this target had begun.
Chapter Eight
1 Rabi 1363 / Late Winter 1361 local
Fascia, Auralian Empire, Target Forty-two
"Radio intercepts agree with our agent's observations of the natives' military movements. Apparently the Earth probe was defeated easily, and the native magic users have sent a diplomatic message and have restricted the Earth forces to the immediate environs of the Gate Anchor." Ajha finished his prepared report.
The hologram raised a hand imperiously. "The Earth isn't rushing more troops into the war zone?" The princess was attending remotely. It was unnerving to not be able to get any hint of opinion from the image at the table, but nice to not be fighting to pay attention to anything but her aura. She'd be in isolation until the marriage, and have limited freedom of movement after, as well.
Ajha tried to not wonder about the life expectancy of the Amma, if he didn't charm this very well trained agent of the One.
Idre fielded the question. "No, Princess. From our intercepts, they're just finished their world-wide elections, so now they are coming up on their regional elections, and the economy is more important. Additionally, they are under the impression that the One are responsible for their defeat, and they don't want word of it getting out."
"Politicians! I suppose they'll suddenly discover the presence of the One after the elections, and invade in force then. So we've got a bit of breathing space." She flicked a glance at the Information Team. "However, we can count on them spying. Most likely they'll concentrate on the Kingdom of the West."
Ajha felt compelled to add, "Our radio intercepts are rapidly adding to our thin knowledge of Earth. A dedicated team of analysts might be useful."
The princess' image eyed him. "I suspect our reports, which include the raw radio intercepts are getting that analysis already." Her glance flicked to the older team members. "What have you found out about the local magic?"
Egto jumped in. "A sampling of genetics shows that the natives have had an infusion of the genes of the Prophets, some time in the past. Possibly the earliest Exploration teams; they were active here in Fascia. We have detected all six gene insertion packets. That is to say, the natives average two insertion packets each. but all six are present in the local population. Ten percent have none at all. Eight gene packets—three double and two single copies—is the highest we've seen, and only a single individual had that many. We have not found any copies of the One Gene. But, we have only a small sample size so far."
Wink took over. "The paucity of magic in their everyday life seems to indicate that the power genes are extremely rare in the majority of the population. But everyone believes in Magic, despite its rarity. Rumors are circulating here that the ‘God of War’ assisted the Westerners in repelling an attack from Verona. And then there's Pax, here. I think we've all seen his glow. So I won't be surprised to find the One Gene here as well. We've gone from thinking that only these thirteen so-called Gods had abilities worth noticing, to realizing that a tiny portion of the population could have magical abilities."
Rior frowned at them. "They fought off two companies of Earth troops, so however rare or isolated, they must have schools for training their magical talents. And some way to spot talented youngsters as they reach puberty."
Idre nodded. "Remember that this is on top of the reports of the Temple of Ba'al in Karista, and the magic associated with it.”
"It seems too wide-spread and well established to blame on the early explorers. Bribe some of the serving staff, get a sample of Pax' genes from a glass or silverware. We need to know more about what we're dealing with. Oner descendants or something odd. Sample some elderly people, see if the number of people with the insertions has been rising or falling in every generation."
The Ambassador bowed to her image. "Yes, Princess. I'll have that sample from Pax collected immediately. You are correct that we must take the native magic seriously."
Hovering on the outskirts of the Amma's nightly feast, Ajha was able to snag a fork Pax had used.
The analyzer results were a shock. The native "god" not only had all twelve insertions—two each of the six different types—he had power genes on both the X chromosome and the Y.
The Ambassador sent the samples, Pax' and all the rest, for in-depth testing at home. Two weeks later they received new equipment designed to detect native vs Oner genes.
Ajha read the enclosed note.
"The six insertions are clearly related to the Genes of the Prophets, but they lack a few of our genes, and have one artificial gene never before seen. Some of the other genes are unknown alleles of our genes. The power genes are, again, similar, but not identical to the One and the Priest genes. Send more samples."
"Related to the Genes of the Prophets." Edmo, the Action Team leader read over his shoulder. "Ha! A pack of native halfers." He curled a lip as he looked out the window at the dusty street. A dirty beggar dodged a horse drawn wagon. Two blowsy prostitutes accosted a man. One was looking seductive, the other was picking his pocket. "They're well below even our Halfers, both in genes and . . . culture. Just animals."
"But there's no generational difference. No differences with immigrants from other regions with no known Oner contact at all. These genes have been in the population for a long time." Ajha frowned at his results. "Makes me wonder about Those Left Be
hind. We know that wherever the Prophets came from . . ."
"Well they didn't come from here!" Edmo waved at the tableau in the street. "This lot was not traveling the Multiverse thirteen centuries ago."
Wink perked up. "No, but we've been exploring across the dimensions for well over a century. Maybe an early party was marooned here." He glanced back at the screen showing Pax' results, and his face fell. "Well, maybe there are lots of mutagens here."
Out on the street, the prostitutes' target turned with a yell, collapsed as the women bolted. No one stopped to check if he was alive or dead.
Ajha felt sick. This is the reality of the lesser races. Even with magic. That was a stun spell, crudely used by petty street criminals. We will improve their government and bring them true civilization. Hopefully not too slowly.
Then he braced himself and walked out.
Wink trotted after him. "What are you doing?"
"If we can find those two women, we might find out where they learned their magic."
"One, you are a clever boy, aren't you."
Three blocks later they spotted a faint glow and split up to approach from opposite directions. The women spotted Wink, smiled and batted their eyelashes. He wafted a subtle spell of peaceful talkativeness over the women. One saw it, tried to run, and bounced off Ajha as he swooped around from the other side. Her frightened eyes softened as the spell took solid hold.
And they started chattering away. Wink steered the subject, to their past, their educations . . . They were cousins, their granny had showed them a few tricks she'd learned from her own mother. No school, no organized training. No grasp of hygiene. Ajha swapped glances with Wink and they sent the women on their way. With strong recommendations regarding baths and laundry.