by Hana Steven
“You want me cooking?” Erik counters.
Poseidon pauses. Shaking her head she says, “Actually, no. You still perplex me as to how you can actually burn water.”
“Wait,” I call out, confused. “He can burn water?”
“It’s just an expression,” Dad explains. “It means he can’t cook very well.”
“If only,” Poseidon sighs. “He somehow managed to really do it—ruined one of our mom’s best pots in the process, too.”
We all stare at them for a moment before Dad breaks the silence.
“Maybe it’s best he hasn’t helped cook, then.”
After breakfast, Gale reverts to her real form and I carry her pack for her. Thanks to our new telepathy, we can still talk and the morning passes rather quickly. We stop for lunch a little later than normal so we can eat in an old park Poseidon knows about.
I set both our packs down on one of the picnic tables and pull out my cloak to give Gale some privacy as she gets dressed—despite her not really caring about being naked, the rest of us do.
Before I can turn around, I hear some excited whispers. Standing around Gale are three young kids, all pointing and gawking at her.
Stepping up beside Gale I say, “This is Gale; she’ll probably let you pet her if you want.”
What makes you think I’ll do that?, Gale asks.
Because you’re nice, I reply.
While we are conversing, the kids all crowd around Gale, petting her and generally looking excited; the little girl even gives Gale a hug.
I have an idea, Gale tells me. Set my clothes on the bench then hold your cloak over me.
Wasn’t that the idea anyway?
Yeah, but now we have an audience.
Oh, gotcha, I reply, finally getting what she is talking about. I set her clothes down then turn to the kids, “You want to see some magic?”
All three kids nod, eyes wide and expectant.
“Okay, pay close attention,” I tell them as Gale hops up onto the bench. Holding my cloak up around Gale I remember how the magicians in Beth’s books all say magic words.
“Trouble, double, fumble…”
While I mutter nonsense, I can feel Gale’s spell activate. The cloak rustles, first from the spell then from her quickly dressing.
I’m ready, she tells me after a minute.
“Behold!” I call out, pulling the cloak away.
Gale is standing there in a pair of denim shorts and a green sleeveless shirt. As the kids’ mouths fall open in surprise, she gives them a big bow and a fanged smile.
“So cool!” cries out one of the boys, much louder than any of them had gotten yet.
“She has animal ears!” the girl cheers, pointing to Gale’s ears.
“And a tail,” adds the second boy.
“Are you really the doggy we saw?” asks the girl.
“I’m a Kitsune,” Gale corrects. “But yes, that was me, too.”
The kids start yammering all at once. I can’t understand most of what they are saying, but I do catch things like, “How did you do that?” and, “Can I turn into a doggy, too?”
After a few minutes, a woman approaches from behind the three kids. “Didn’t I tell you kids not to bother anyone?”
“We’re not, Mommy,” replies one of the boys.
The little girl points at Gale and starts rambling, “She was a doggy, now she’s a girl! But she has doggy ears! And a tail! Can I have a tail? I want a tail!”
The woman pats the girl’s head then turns to Gale and me, “I’m sorry if my kids caused you any trouble.”
“They’re fine,” Gale says. “It’s our fault they got so excited.”
She gives us a smile. “I appreciate you defending them, but they still need to learn not to trouble other people when we’re traveling.” Ushering the kids back in the direction she came from, she says, “Come on, kids, lunch is ready.”
We watch the kids leave for a moment before I turn to replace my cloak in my pack.
“That was nice of you girls,” Poseidon says from the other side of the table. “Traveling is rough on kids that young; they don’t get to play enough when they’re on the move.”
We both take a seat on the bench and dig into the sandwiches Dad sets in front of us. After a quick lunch and a short break, we get back on the road.
We stop for the night in a little clearing. It seems to be a regular stop for people because there is a stone ring with charred wood still piled up inside and a number of logs lined up around it.
“Once we get some food,” Poseidon begins, “what do you kids think about having a little fun?”
“What kind of fun,” I ask, curious as to what she has in mind.
“Erik and I used to have water balloon fights when we were younger,” she answers. “I think we could emulate that with magic.”
“I don’t get it,” Gale states, clearly sharing my confusion.
“In essence,” Dad says, “you throw balls of water at each other. It would be a good way for you girls to get better acquainted with magical combat without the use of dangerous spells.”
“Sure,” I say. “You said it was fun, so why not?”
After a quick meal, Poseidon, Erik, Gale, and I head off into the woods for our water fight.
“I think we should team up,” Poseidon suggests. “Sylphy, why don’t you and I take on the others?”
“Works for me,” Erik replies. “I owe you for that last game we played.”
Poseidon smirks, “You can try.”
I glance at Gale, who just shrugs.
“Okay,” Poseidon says, jabbing a stick into the ground. “When this spell fades, we begin.”
Suddenly the exposed end of the stick glows brightly. Poseidon takes my hand and leads me off away from the stick. Glancing behind me I see Erik and Gale heading off in the other direction.
“Okay, that spell will last for a few minutes, so let’s prepare,” Poseidon suggests. “We can set up a trap for them or take the initiative and go hunting for them. What do you want to do?”
I think about it for a moment before I realize that I have a general idea of where Gale is.
“I don’t think either will work,” I inform her. “I can tell roughly where Gale is and she can tell where I am, too.”
“Right, I forgot about that. Guess an ambush won’t work,” she says, clearly thinking out loud. “How do you feel about being bait?”
A couple minutes later we are in position. Poseidon has me climb up into a tree with my Kitsune agility to draw Gale’s attention while she waits in ambush down below. The light spell, which up until now had been constant, starts to fade then goes out entirely.
Glancing down to the ground, I can’t make out Poseidon at all, but I have an idea of where she is. Instead, I focus on the feeling of where Gale is and “watch” as she draws nearer. I can tell she is within range of my spells when I lose her.
It’s a weird feeling suddenly being unable to sense her after all this time. I focus on our connection as hard as I can and can just make out that she is nearby, but not where.
Thanks to my concentration, I don’t sense the spell heading my way until it hits me, drenching me in water. Now I know why Gale dislikes taking a bath as a fox. Wet fur sucks.
Giving myself a shake to rid myself of as much water as I can, I drop down from branch to branch until I’m at the ground. I focus on my connection to Gale again, this time trying to block it in much the same way I imagine Gale did. I quickly head off into some nearby brush and carefully look around.
Just a moment after I get myself hidden, Gale edges around a tree to my right, a water orb held in each hand. She looks around for a moment, confused, before darting across the open patch under the tree and past my hiding spot.
With a grin I step out and hurl my own water orb at her back, then start running in the other direction. As I run I spot Erik and throw an orb his direction, as well, only to narrowly avoid one thrown at me a moment later.
&
nbsp; Ducking behind a tree, I can’t help but grin. This is really fun!
As we keep playing, the sunlight fades until we are unable to keep going for fear of tripping over our own feet. Poseidon calls an end to our fun and we make our way back to our camp.
As we approach, Dad tosses a towel at Gale and me. “Get yourselves changed, then bring your wet clothes over here.”
Doing as we are told, we quickly put on warm, dry clothes and return to the fire. Dad motions to a rope tied between two sticks near the fire and we drape our wet clothes over it.
“Here,” Dad says, holding out a cup to each of us. “It may be warm out, but I would rather neither of you winds up with a cold.”
I take my cup and sit down on a log. The hot cider warms my hands through the cup and the scent tickles at my nose while I feel warmth spread through me with every sip. Once our drinks are gone, Gale and I both head off to bed tired but happy.
Chapter 13
Fort Marshal
Afternoon arrives before we begin to see a tall chainlink fence enclosing a series of buildings off to our left. It takes us another half an hour before we reach a gated road connecting to the road we are traveling on.
We turn onto this road and soon come to the gate where two men wearing tan, brown, and grey camouflage clothing are holding long metal sticks that I’m pretty sure are guns of some sort.
“Halt! State your business,” the man on the left calls out.
Dad takes a step forward and says, “We have business with your CO.”
“And what makes you think that just anyone can waltz up and see the general?” asks the other man in a very rude tone.
Poseidon puts a hand on my shoulder. Apparently reading my mood, she says simply, “Don’t.”
Dad glances at the second man then addresses the first, completely ignoring the rude man.
“We have a letter for the general and were told to hand it directly to him,” he informs the helpful guard.
The first guard steps forward and inspects the letter. Turning back to the gate, he calls out, “Private Donalds, go and fetch the general. He has visitors.”
Another man steps out from a building behind the gate and salutes to the guard before running off.
“You’re going to let them see the general?” asks the rude guard.
“Yes, Sergeant,” the first guard replies, emphasizing the second man’s rank. “I am.”
“Thank you,” Dad says, looking to the first guard.
“What, may I ask, did you do to get an official letter from the governor?” asks the first guard.
“I would prefer not to say right now,” Dad replies.
“Why, you insolent degenerate!” exclaims the rude guard. “You should answer when your superiors ask you something!”
“First off,” Dad says, “I’m not enlisted, so you aren’t my superiors. Secondly, even if you were, I’m entitled to my privacy.”
“Insolent punk!” the rude guard yells, swinging a fist at Dad.
I step forward and raise a shield in front of Dad; the man’s fist impacts the shield with a thud. Turning to me, the man holds out a hand and a large icicle starts to form before it. I ready another shield and a Wind Blast.
“What is going on here?!” a commanding voice calls out, clearly irritated.
The rude guard jumps a little as his spell crumbles.
“Sergeant Adams, I think you had best report to my office,” says another man wearing camo.
“Uh, but, um. Y-yes, sir!” the rude guard fumbles with a salute. He quickly hurries off into the base and out of sight.
“Donalds, please go and fetch Sergeant Nunez,” the new man says. “She was wanting to do some guard duty.”
“Yes, sir, General,” Private Donalds replies before rushing off.
Turning his attention to us, the general asks, “So, what can I help you with? I don’t recognize you, but you must have some legitimate business with me for the sergeant here to send for me.”
“We were tasked with delivering this to you personally,” Dad says, holding out the letter. “It was given to me by the Kingston enforcer chief who thought that you would want to talk with us, as well.”
“Really,” the general says, opening the letter. He takes a minute to read the letter then looks back at the rest of us before looking back to Dad. “The five of you took out that group of bandits thought to be holed up in Ashford?”
“Yes,” Dad answers.
“This letter says the kids handled it, but that’s a little unbelievable,” the general says. “Not that the five of you is much better.”
“Except for the final blow, it was entirely the kids,” Dad states.
The general stares at Dad for a moment, then says, “You’re serious.” His attention turns to me and he asks, “These little girls and the boy took on a gang of more than fifty bandits by themselves?”
“Except for their boss they weren’t very tough,” I state.
The general stares at me for a moment then starts laughing. “If you three took them all out then I guess they must not have been.”
“Despite their age,” Poseidon begins, “they are all skilled mages in their own right.”
Turning to Poseidon, the general asks, “And what of the two of you?”
“Papa’s really strong,” Gale says.
“And I wouldn’t want to deal with my sister when she’s getting even slightly serious,” Erik adds.
“Walk with me for a bit,” the general requests, turning back into the base.
Dad shrugs then starts after the man, the rest of us following after.
“According to the letter, the bandits’ leader was a particularly powerful magic user calling himself Sauron,” the general states. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” Dad answers. “The girls took him on, but he was powerful enough to make them lose confidence and I had to step in. They handled him easily enough when he broke free in Kingston, though.”
“There was no mention of his breakout,” the general says, glancing to Dad.
“It happened while we were talking to the chief,” Dad explains.
The general nods. “I see. Anyway, I’ve been trying to find a way to train my troops to combat the increasing number of magical problem makers. I had sent letters to the nearby cities in an attempt to locate someone who could assist me in this endeavor. The chief seems to think that you lot could help; and if you really did what you say you did, then I agree.”
“So, you want us to train your troops?” asks Poseidon.
“If you’re up to it,” the general confirms. “I will of course provide you with housing and pay for your services.”
“That is certainly a possibility,” Dad says. “But would it be alright if we discuss it among ourselves before deciding?”
“Of course. You’re welcome to stay the night regardless; consider it an apology for my soldier’s actions.”
“That would be appreciated,” Poseidon agrees.
“On the note of the sergeant’s actions,” the general begins, looking to me, “how would you feel about a duel with him?”
“A duel?” I ask. “Why me?”
“Based on what you did with those bandits and what I saw when I arrived, I feel like it would serve a few purposes,” he replies. “First, it should serve to teach him a lesson about picking fights against people. And it should help enforce with my troops why we need to train to fight against magic users.”
I look to Dad for advice, “What do you think?”
“I think you could take that soldier pretty easily right now,” he replies. “And I agree with the general that the military should be prepared to fight magic. Even with people figuring it out by trial and error, they are getting better and stronger; Sauron is a good example of that.”
With a grin, I turn back to the general. “I’m game. But I want to see the rules before I agree.”
The general chuckles. “Smart girl. Never agree to something until you know the details.” Wi
th a more serious tone he goes on, “Simple rules: no weapons, no intentionally lethal attacks, first to concede or get knocked out loses.”
“That’s it?” I ask, expecting more.
“Like I said, simple,” he confirms. “That’s not to say I won’t call a halt if I see one of you intentionally prolonging the fight or essentially torturing your opponent.”
“I can agree to those terms,” Dad says. “I assume you don’t mind me also taking the initiative to end the match?”
“Of course not,” the general agrees. “She’s your daughter, after all. Or am I mistaken?”
“You’re not mistaken,” Dad confirms. “And thank you.”
We follow the general to a large open square. He leaves us under one of the many trees lining the square and then heads off, calling out to a few soldiers and setting them about some tasks. While we wait, the five of us discuss the offer to train the soldiers.
“I said before that I agree with the general,” Dad begins, “so I would normally agree to train the soldiers. But I refuse to put myself before you two. What do you girls want to do?”
Gale and I share a moment of silent, not even telepathic, communication before turning back to Dad. “I’ll go with whatever you want to do; this could be fun.”
Gale nods in agreement.
“Erik, how about you?” asks Poseidon.
Erik shrugs, “I’m with the girls; it should prove interesting, at the least.”
“Then I say accept,” Poseidon states. “If nothing else, it would be good for the soldiers to at least have an idea of what they could be up against.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” Dad announces. With a grin, he declares, “We’ll teach these soldiers what it means to face a mage.”
With that decided, we lounge under the tree, watching as more and more soldiers arrive and a ring is roped off in the middle of the square. Almost half an hour after we arrived, the general returns with the rude guard and a blonde-haired woman wearing a dark blue skirt suit following close behind. The general points to us and the woman heads over to us.
When she reaches us she gives me a smile and says, “I hear you’re the one that got Johnson all bent out of shape. Personally, I hope you smack the punk into the ground. Professionally, I would like to apologize for his behavior; it is very much not how we expect our soldiers to behave.”
