Mages at Large (Wine of the Gods Book 18)

by Pam Uphoff

"Hey, putz." Paul swaggered over. "Heard you were worthless."

  He really envied Falco his nice family, and hoped his friend would also come into his power. Paul made a non-professional Compass sound good.

  ***

  Dobs escaped her studies to meet them a week later. The Stafford Square coffee shop was too casual for any of their parents, and too pricey for most other students.

  Dobs was shocked by their reports.

  "I don't think any witches knew about those meetings." she said. "I haven't heard a thing about practicing shields. But . . . we have been doing a lot of power collection and transfer."

  "I don't like this at all." Falco rubbed his arms. "It sounded like they were going to ignore the southern hemisphere. Are they going to cut out witches as well?"

  "Earth, Moon and Sun." Dobs rubbed her face. "If there is a catastrophe, and it knocks civilization back . . . "

  "Then Magic users will rule and Gods will be Gods again." Max was too dark to really pale, but he looked sick.

  "Ah, look," Falco scowled at them. "It's not like they're going to dump the comet on them, that would kill everyone. All this stuff of Art's is just in case there are big chunks in the debris field. I don't like the idea of deliberately turning our back on those southerners, but the Archmage is right, we can't cover everyone. After the deflection, it's down to local shielding."

  Dobs and Max both nodded.

  "I understand," Max said. "But you know they're going to get the most profit out of it they can. And I don't like them playing the mages against the witches."

  "I wonder if Art will meet separately with the witches and try to play on their antipathy for mages?" Dobs was scowling. "He's going to get everyone killed, for his personal gain."

  "Can you talk to Grace?"

  "No. Mercy pulled out completely. Sandra said she heard they were going to Bombay."

  "Drat. Our best information source."

  Dobs punched him. "Our best friend."

  "Yeah, but Mercy will make sure she's safe. Our parents are going to have to kiss up to Art and hope he can squeeze us in somewhere."

  "Yeah. So if we want to live, we need to hope our parents will kiss his traitorous butt."

  Falco nodded. "Yeah. That's pretty much it, isn't it? I can sort of raise a shield for a few minutes. And I'm not even sure it's strong enough for this. My parents . . . look, have you been reading up on the subject? There are plenty of quotes from pre-Exile sources that the effects of an impact could last for centuries. Even if the northern hemisphere doesn't have an impact, the southern impacts will ruin agriculture for years, maybe change the climate, enlarge the ice cap."

  Dobs squirmed. "I read that the comet will be at its brightest and closest the last day of the year, for five days before that it'll be a day comet, bright enough to see in the day time. Then it'll be spectacular at night as it pulls away—assuming it doesn't hit!"

  "The real stupes are all running around talking about vapors from the comet's tail and epidemics." Max grinned. "Oh sure, like you two never read those rags."

  "Only when I need a laugh." Dobs sniffed. She suddenly got an absent minded expression. Grimaced. "Mother want me home right now. Some meeting of all the witches. I'll report back as soon as I can."

  Chapter Two

  December 21, 2455

  New Tokyo

  "I can't believe you want us to come to this meeting. I need to get the last of the vacation shopping done, and the kids had plans."

  Marcus looked at his wife impatiently. Their usual post-holiday vacation wasn't going to happen this year, but he wasn't going to tell the shrew that. Paul and Max were both scowling. Damn, but Paul was getting big. Taking after his old man. Max was hanging around with undesirables, but that was about to end. They both knew enough about what was going on to cooperate. "Let's go. Make a token appearance and then you three can take off. I'll catch a cab home later."

  Max took his mother's arm and steered her toward the door. "We can do a run through, and then run for it. How about dinner at the Seaview?"

  Smart boy.

  "Fat chance we'll actually get out of there . . . "

  He ignored the mumble and led the way to the car. He'd lit the burners earlier, so it was ready to go. It chuffed off, steam trailing behind them in the chilly air. For once he didn't care about parking on the street. If things went as planned, by nightfall the hoodlums would be too frightened to steal cars.

  Art, Pax, and Mercy were all three there, and he could feel his heart speeding. It was really going to happen.

  "So glad you brought the whole family." Art smiled genially. "Mercy, why don't you show Baroness Barbara your project? Kids, check out the basement, I've loaded it with games, and there are other kids down there already."

  There. The family would be all wrapped up, safe and sound and out of the way. Now he could concentrate solely on maneuvering the comet.

  "That's the last." Art led them all to the top level.

  Marcus nodded to friends and acquaintances. Members of his own Compass, and the other Mage Compasses of this city and Pacifica and Bombay as well. He frowned. Witches. Art had let the witches in on it.

  "A bare pyramid. Unfortunately we need the power they can raise. And this batch won't betray us."

  Mercy strode up behind them. "Now, do we really need to try and convince Gisele to help us? You know she's tight with Love and That Man."

  "Oh yes. Then we won't have to bother feeling guilty." Art glanced out the window. The familiar view changed suddenly. Late morning bright to deep twilight. "This shouldn't take long."

  He walked back down the three flights of stairs. Marcus bit back complaints about how many times was he going to have to climb up and down the damn stairs, and followed.

  The Goddess was playing up to her stereotype with a passion. Lush herb garden, crooked little shack. Lord! A cane, and hump to match the wrinkles.

  Her twinkling eye caught his. "You have your little games too, don't you, Archmage?"

  "We all do what we must to survive." He frowned around the country-side. "You could protect a lot more people."

  "But would they be able to feed themselves, after? We have no idea how long it will take for the atmosphere to clear, if the push doesn't work."

  Art sniffed. "This is your last chance to join us."

  "No. Good luck, Marty. I hope to see you again." She turned and walked away, not even looking back.

  The sudden appearance of the building had attracted notice. A man was sneaking looks their way while trying to chivvy a bunch of children away. Two small girls were staring in wide-eyed wonder and Art stiffened.

  "Perfect. Ideal."

  Marcus could barely hear the words, they were so soft. The god stalked the children, unnoticeable. With a gesture of his hand, the children changed. Rigid bronze, frozen in their glorious innocence. The god tossed a second layer over them, then scooped them up and carried them into the museum.

  Mercy huffed angrily. "This is no time to go all artsy and start collecting. Give them to me, I'll put them in the basement and you can arrange them properly later."

  Marcus smoothed the hairs on the back of his head. Just when you'd convinced yourself Gods were nothing more than very powerful magic users . . . The children were just shielded, with time dilation inside. They were just fine. Release them in a century and they'd think a few seconds had gone by. Marcus was the most powerful mage in the World and he had no idea how the Gods did that. "Bubbles" they called them. Transparent one way, bronzed when turned inside out. Nor did he know how they moved their homes. "Teleportation" was a label, not an explanation.

  "All right. You were right, Mercy, we shouldn't have wasted the time and energy. Back to New Tokyo, and to work. We'll all have an early lunch and then meditate until the comet core is close enough to shove around."

  More swirling magic. To one side, a tall, muscular man. The God of War. Then big dogs galloping around from behind the hut. One stopped to pee on a carefully groomed bush at
the front door.

  Lady Gisele narrowed her eyes, but the dog just grinned and trotted away.

  The tall man shook his head. "Michael must be around here somewhere. Not the sort of help anyone needs."

  "I think you're wrong, this time. No one deserves what is going to happen to them, if we fail. None the less, I wouldn't mind if you made him put those wretched dogs away for the duration.

  High pitched yelps and feminine screams, male cursing and a lot of laughter. The God of War stalked off that direction. Marcus stepped out long enough to see a dog induced riot, then shrugged irritably and stalked back inside the museum.

  We shouldn't be wasting our energy on anything but the comet, right now.

  Art walked back inside, laughing. "The trip was productive after all. Michael is going to go sulk by himself." The light brightened painfully as the sunlight suddenly poured through the windows again.

  Back in New Tokyo, having wasted energy.

  Marcus mingled, chatting with everyone, complementing and praising. Stroking egos and building people up. That was how to build power and confidence, and they were going to need plenty of both tonight. He grazed the buffet, nodded approvingly at the fruit juice being served instead of something intoxicating, and admired statuary. The bull was his favorite. And the running horses. He was glad Art had kept them when he got rid of the other two equine collections. When this was all over, when mages were respected again, he should start collecting artwork. Or have his minions do it. He was the Archmage. By next year he could be the next Mage King, like old mad Zapolo, who'd been deposed nearly a century ago.

  The light was dimming outside the windows. The sky had an odd glow, like a smooth thick layer of clouds, obscuring their sight of the comet core. They were well inside the coma, the tenuous atmosphere of the comet.

  It was time.

  He formed up his Compass, taking North, as usual. He felt the light breeze around the building as he nicked his left wrist and extended knife and blood to Harvey. Knife and blood completed the circle and hands to wrists, linked around, they reached up through the layers of the air until it was the blasting scorch of the Solar Wind they were feeling.

  And the fog. They were already in the outer coma, the sublimated water of the comet. He reached out for it, and he could feel the others as well. Sixteen full compasses. The witches.

  Three Gods.

  Pushing the core of the comet southward.

  And then more tenuous, from the west, more mages and witches and gods.

  Pushing north.

  And they pushed south.

  The gods to the west were actually melting the core, trying to break it into manageable pieces. The less mass that hit, the better.

  Marcus led his Compass in pushing the comet south. He could feel those distant others trying to push it north and shoved harder. He ignored all the little chunks that were spalling off. They'd burn up in the atmosphere. The core cracked suddenly, surrendering to the pressures on it. Marcus found the biggest piece and concentrated on it, shoving it south. He cast loose about half the other compasses to shove on a piece only slightly smaller. The groups to the west cleared two sizable chunks, and Marcus released his big one and withdrew. He felt the God of War's sudden realization that he didn't have time to divert that piece, but felt him start trying.

  And suddenly the Compass broke. Art was shaking him.

  "It's too late for the Old Wolf to do much more than make sure it hits old continental crust. Come! Let's watch the fireworks as all the small pieces enter the atmosphere."

  His hands were shaking a bit in weakness. In the Compass he hadn't noticed how dangerously drained he was getting. He turned to the windows and looked out. "Some of those chunks we left are pretty big."

  "I'll put a shield up, if it looks like any are going to come close." Art waved airily. Pax and Mercy had a quiet conversation at the back of the room, then everyone was crowding in and the servants circulated with glasses. Champagne. While Art made a speech, streaks of light zipped across the sky. Lots of them. And fireballs. It was quite spectacular. Pulling his eyes away from the show, he spotted Pax and Mercy 'bronzing' people, working their way forward. Hopefully an unnecessary precaution.

  The fireworks went on, occasional booms thudding through the building. A flash filled the southwestern horizon. It wasn't easy without the Compass, but he reached southward, and felt the onrushing seismic wave. The big one had hit. He looked upward to see how long the light show would last. "Art!" he gulped. "There's another one."

  Art looked up and paled.

  Everything went black.

  Damn it. Why bronze me? I'm strong enough to help. He shuddered. The piece must have been about a third of the core. Had they all been so busy shoving pieces they thought were bigger that that piece hadn't been dealt with at all? No, it was lagging so much, it must have separated from the comet days or weeks ago, traveling along with the main piece, gradually falling behind. Until it was suddenly noticed. And this damned thing all over him. How the hell was he going to get it off? How much time dilation was there? He shouldn't be able to think and move this fast, should he?

  Then light flooded back in. "About time." He snapped. "How bad was . . . "

  Everyone was still bronzed, except for Little Falco Newton, one of Max's better friends.

  Falco lowered his hand, "Sorry sir, but, we figured you'd better be the first one we freed."

  The Archmage looked around. There was Max, with that wretched witch child he'd been told to stay away from.

  He turned back around, frowning. "Where's Art? Or Mercy? Pax?"

  Max wound between the bronzes. "We don't know, Dad. Falco just got us out a few minutes ago."

  "Falco?" He frowned. The boy was half wizard, and everyone knew that was a bad mix. Had he been able to undo a God shield?

  "Yes, sir. It took me a bit but I found a weak spot and popped the bubble thing."

  "And let your friends out first." He stalked over to the windows. It was either early or late, the Sun either setting or rising from behind tall mountains one way, and a barren rock desert stretching the other direction. The windows were clear enough, but there was some sort of glittery something . . . the sky was odd, the sun hidden behind some high haze.

  "We weren't able to deflect the Comet. Art must have tried to move us away." Marcus shivered, pushed the apprehension aside. Done is done.

  Max leaned on the window. "The air is clear. It must not have been as bad as everyone was afraid."

  "Hopefully bad enough that they'll appreciate magic again." Marcus frowned. "Leave everyone else bronzed for now. We'll find the nearest town, if anyone's alive we can catch up on news and the current situation." He marched down stairs, opened the door and frowned at the solid bronze shield. "There wasn't a solid shield over the windows," he grumbled.

  And watched in frustration as Falco ran his hands over the bronze and pulled it open like a curtain. He'd have a few words with the boy when he had time, find out just what he was doing.

  Meditating out on the rocky soil, he was shocked to have to reach hundreds of miles across the mountains to find the nearest people. On this side of those mountains, he had to scan out perhaps three hundred miles before he found people to the south.

  Frowning, he walked back inside, and found the kids scavenging in the kitchen. Max handed him a plate full of the remains of yesterday's buffet and he decided teenage bottomless pits might have their uses.

  "Have you found any cars? The nearest people are four hundred miles south, or across those mountains."

  Falco shrugged. "There's an electric carrier in the closet. It's not going to go a hundred miles before the battery's dead, though."

  "Better than nothing. And in this desert . . . look, maybe you three should stay here, and I'll go get help."

  "I'm not staying with all these scary people – and there's not much food here either," the witch said.

  "We'll need containers for water." Falco started opening cupboards and Max
opened a closet and started rooting around.

  Marcus glared. The only two mages out and they're too young for anything useful. But they can hold a circuit . . . Marcus walked over to the stairs and looked up, thinking. John Seabaugh is the next most powerful . . . but Paul . . . I can't leave Paul here.

  He turned back to the kids. "Let's get Paul out of the bronze. Then, if we get desperate, we can form a minor compass and call in the rain."

  Chapter Three

  Spring 1393

  Desolation Territory, north of Gemstone

  "Hi, you look like you could use a ride."

  Marcus was certain they needed a ride. They were going through the water frighteningly fast in the heat, and had nearly frozen last night. He'd been planning a compass this evening to refill their containers. But finally! Some traffic on the faint traces of regular travel down this stretch of flat black basalt.

  The young man on the horse had trotted out ahead of the seven wagons to check them out. His survey apparently added up to 'harmless', and he swung down off his handsome mare and offered a canteen.

  "I'm Drei Valason, from Rip. We're headed for Lucky Strike."

  Up close he was obviously young, a lanky teenager.

  "Marcus Olson, my sons Paul and Max and their friends Falco Newton and Doberman."

  "Lost your horses?" The boy frowned at Dobs, who was even less well dressed for this hike than the rest of them. "Wagon? Are the bandits active this far north now?"

  "Well, we've been walking for three days. But yes, we're stranded. I take it Lucky Strike is the first town?"

  "Second actually, but we'll camp at Gemstone overnight. Glad to give you a lift."

  The first wagon pulled up behind his horse, and he led them around to the side. The young man driving was . . .

  "This is my brother Val. Yes, we are twins. Passengers, Val. This is Marcus, Paul, and Max Olson, Falco Newton and Doberman." Pointing as he spoke, he got most of them right.

  "I'm Falco." The boy put in. "She's Dobs. Doberman."