Into the Hells
Page 12
I looked to Maebe, and she simply nodded. “You know, being my replacement if I need to go home?”
“I’m probably just stupid, so I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that yet, but let’s turn our sights on the enchanting. Vilmas? You ready for me?” I looked around to see the poor Dwarf passed out with several empty mugs surrounding her on the floor. She was snoring loudly and came awake with a start.
“I’m ready, Master!” She blinked blearily at us. “Whassat?”
Vrawn handed her a large mug of steaming tea that smelled like the go-go tea from the other morning. She took a deep draft of it into her gullet and sighed. Almost as if by magic, her drowsy, groggy demeanor perked up. She looked to be fully rested and alert now.
“That tea is amazing,” I muttered.
“Mmm. It is!” Maebe agreed. She sipped it again and smiled dazzlingly.
“He-hello,” Vilmas greeted softly.
She was standing now, her hands clasped before her, uncertainly gazing toward Maebe.
I held a hand out to Vilmas. “There’s no need to be shy, Vilmas. This is Maebe. She’s important to me, my girlfriend.”
“She’s a queen,” she squeaked. Her eyes stared intently at Maebe, growing wider as she took more in.
“I am,” Maebe smiled, “and you are fine. There is no need to be fearful.”
Maebe walked toward the Dwarven woman slowly. Vilmas shook her head as if trying to dislodge something.
“Vilmas… can you see me?” Maebe asked curiously.
“Of course I can see you, m’lady—you’re right there in front of me.”
I knew where this was going and took Maebe’s right hand in an attempt to ground her.
“That’s not what she means, Vilmas. Like how you knew that Dwarf in Djurn Forge was actually a gnome. You saw through his disguise and spell. You can see her.” She still looked stumped, but I continued, “You can see the stars along her skin. You can see her true beauty through her glamour that dulls it down. You’re getting the full version of her.”
“And more than a few Fae find that to be an issue,” I watched her flinch when Maebe brushed her fingers over her left cheek, “but Maebe isn’t like those other, elder Fae, right? Honey?”
“I let Zeke live,” she whispered as she continued to eye Vilmas. She blinked, then with a serene smile, stated, “I will leave you alone too. Though, please—do not tell others what you see. I want them to love me or fear me based on my own merits and not my beauty. Is this something you can do for me?”
Vilmas nodded readily enough before her mousy voice piped out, “You are really beautiful though.”
“Thank you. I believe you had something you wished to teach Zeke?”
She put her special sheet on to the desk and placed one of the plaques into the center circle, then four more in the orbiting circles.
Vilmas took a soothing breath, then turned to me. “I wanted you to see this and finalize my intent with you. The enchantment I want to impart is simple. I want the wall to be sturdy as metal but also protected from magic and make entrance by anyone who isn’t a villager, or with a villager, unpleasant.”
“I don’t know about the unpleasant part, due to the wildlife in the area and the bears.” I frowned. “What if we hid everything inside the fence?”
“How do you mean?” Vilmas took out a sheet of parchment and an enchanted quill.
“Like an invisible village. The people who give some kind of biological donation to the thing, like blood, can see the fence and village for what it is.” Continuing another thought, I added, “After that, we can place charms or befuddlement enchantments in the area that will turn away people who aren’t attuned to them.”
“That last one would be really hard to do, both financially and enchanting-wise, but if we were to attach it to the wall itself?” Vilmas tapped her thick fingers on the desk. “After the wall is established and the attuning circle is laid down, it wouldn’t be too terribly hard to attach the two. A foreboding feeling? Something that caused them to go around or in the opposite direction.”
“That sounds like it will take time that my friends and I don’t have.” I sighed.
“I’ll stay and take care of it myself.” The enchanter lifted her head, squared her shoulders, and looked around the room. “I know you have things you have to do. Balmur needs savin’. I’ll be able to do all the rest of this today. Then the other enchantments I’ll do on my own.”
She pulled out a large sheet like we had used to catch my sifted mana, but this had something in it. A loose, green pile of filings.
Fairy Iron. I checked the tools she had used; neither they nor the file were iron so they were safe.
“Be careful what you use to work this metal, Vilmas.” I pointed to the green metal, “It’s called Fae Iron, and it will be ruined if you use normal fire to heat it or iron to work it.”
The enchanter’s brows raised in surprise. “Mighty kind to let me know, thank you.” She scribbled a note on some paper on the desk before turning back to me. “Whatever it does for certain, I do not know, but it will help to add more strength to the wall as a component to the enchantment. I’ll show you this process, and after I get them attached to the fence, you’ll be free to go on.”
She put her hand over the center plaque and closed her eyes. A few heartbeats later, she touched the metal beneath her hand, and a dull glow of red spread from her hand to the black lines along the paper. The red glow worked its way around each of the other items to be enchanted, and Vilmas finished the enchanting process by sprinkling the Fae Iron filings over each of them.
She took her hand away and nodded to herself. “The process takes the mana for each item, then enough to connect them. This is a well-made piece of equipment, so the cost is lower than having to do the thing over and over again on each individual one. The initial time is the five portions of mana, but now it’ll be four.”
She took the four on the outside away. “Now, I leave the centerpiece—the key—and replace the four enchanted plaques with blanks. This will be over in no time. If you’re ever in the market for one of these, I’d suggest going to the Light Hands. We have some high quality ones that we can give you a discount on.”
“I just may. But I do have a question, and I’ll be brief.” She waited, curiosity all over her features. “If it’s possible to share an enchantment perfectly like this—would it not also be possible to amplify one with a similar technique?”
“It is!” Vilmas clapped. “Very astute! The blueprints for such an item are jealously guarded, and I think we may have one in the clan vaults, but the materials and time it would take to make one are outrageous. It would likely take nothing short of twenty grandmaster level enchanters, a grandmaster smith, and any number of other highly skilled craftsmen to even attempt making one.”
“That’s disappointing, but I’m happy to know that it’s out there.” I shrugged. “The process is interesting. Thank you for letting me see it, Vilmas. If you need anything else, let me know.”
“Vrawn has already had her men putting the beginning touches on the slats in the wall that we will use as hosts to the plaques. If you would help us, we will be able to properly do this.” She must have seen me pause for a moment too long because she explained a little more. “The plaques will need to be attached to the wall within seconds of each other, or the enchantment will not take properly. It could fail, and all this work would have been for naught.”
“I will do this for you tonight,” Maebe interrupted me. She was staring intently at the Dwarf as she spoke. “If you will allow this to be done tonight, then I can do this for you perfectly.”
“That’s fine, I suppose. It will give me time to find a large enough diamond to use as a focal point for the–” Vilmas stared wide-eyed at Maebe and sputtered, “Is that a diamond or ice?!”
Maebe chuckled at the other woman and passed her a gemstone easily the size of my head. I whistled out loud like a cartoon wolf. Hello, sugar momma.
“Something smaller would have worked fine, but with this, we can have more materials added over time without having to upgrade the catalyst as often!” Vilma’s sat the large gem on the desk before marching right over to Maebe, stuck her hand out, and waited for Maebe patiently. The Fae Queen looked to me for guidance, then took the offered hand. They shook once, and Vilmas began to try and prepare for the rest of the day.
We were dismissed, I guess. Vrawn opted to stay and watch over the enchanter, while we went about whatever other business we had.
“Shall we see about getting food before going to see this Rowland you speak so highly of?” Maebe offered.
“Yeah, but I want to eat out today.” She seemed confused by the idea, so I took her hand and tugged her out of the doorway. “As a way of showing you my appreciation for being so thoughtful.”
Her eyebrows raised, green eyes shining in the light. Her tan dress flapped a little in the breeze. “I am a queen, and I am Fae. I must be prepared to sacrifice for things at times so that my subjects will prosper.”
“And I can almost promise that Titania and the new Seelie monarch don’t see it that way,” I offered. “You didn’t have to do that. That diamond was huge. Gigantic. This whole village could likely live comfortably off what that would sell for here. That was sweet and thoughtful, and I’m treating you to one of my favorite things in the village this morning. That’s final.”
She narrowed her eyes at me and stepped toward me, her body barely touching mine, her eyes raising to find mine steadily.
“Say that again,” she whispered.
I looked down at her, firm and resolute. “That’s. Final.”
I felt her nails drag down my back, rough enough that I knew I’d likely have marks, and I shivered.
“I like that.” She butted her head against my chest and stepped back. “Lead on then, and I will follow.”
I grinned wolfishly and pulled her toward the square, and we walked together until the scent of my favorite kabobs hit me. The meat was sweet, sandwiched between fruits like apples and pineapple, and there were little, diced potatoes fried on them.
I ordered four. Two for both of us. Maebe liked them so much that she ordered another two for both of us. Seeing her so excited about all of these new things in the Prime realm was endearing.
Sometimes, it was a little jarring knowing that this woman before me was hundreds of years old in her own realm, which meant countless centuries here, but she was still young to her people. Relatively speaking. She was so capable. Elegant. Strong. Wise and intelligent. She put her people first.
Granted—she still had some seriously bad and murderous things that she’d done in the past, but she was so much more complex than that. She acted like a young woman, her eyes so full of wonder at seeing and trying new things, bordering on naïve. Then at the flip of a switch, she was regal and imposing, her rule unquestioned. She was an enigma.
“Let’s go and meet Rowland before I stop to play with all of these children,” Maebe’s voice sounded strained as she looked at all the children dashing about playing.
It was rough going for her, but we made it there eventually.
We walked in to the sound of hammers falling on metal. Mini was asleep on the front counter in a nest of blankets with a small contraption on her head that looked to be padded with something soft on the inside. It reminded me of a helmet.
A small breeze wafted through the shop and rustled her fur, causing her to lift her head from the bed she laid in. Her tail waved about behind her, and she stood with a stretch.
“Maebe, this is Mini. She’s Rowland’s friend.” Maebe had stepped over to the fox in quick strides while I introduced her.
The fox, spooked by the fast-approaching woman, ran into the back of the shop where the forge was.
The hammering stopped, and Rowland’s voice rang out, “Wha’s got ye scared, li’l lass?”
He poked his head around the corner of the door and eyed us.
“Zeke!” he bellowed happily. He looked much better than he had before as he hefted Mini into his brawny arms. “And ye brought a friend?”
“I brought Maebe. She’s my girlfriend, but yes—I brought her to introduce to you. And I came to get your forge fixed up.” I smiled proudly at him before asking, “What’s up with the contraption on Mini’s head?”
“Awful nice of ye, lad.” Rowland looked to Maebe, giving her a friendly grin. Mini eyed her nervously outside her hiding place in the Dwarf’s beard. “He’s a good lad, m’lady. Take good care of him. An’ tha’ be a noise dampener. Me hammerin’ gets her real skittish, an’ I be needin’ her ta be able ta nap while I be workin’.”
“I mean to try, and a pleasure to meet you, Rowland.” Mae stepped forward and held her hand out for the Dwarf to shake. Which he did. Mini was tantalizingly close, but Maebe didn’t try to touch her again.
“That fox was a right fix there, lad—thank ye. She’s quick as a whip and lovin’ to boot.” He waved for us to follow him into the back. “I knew ye’d be over today, and I had a bit of inspiration. I made meself a new forge, finally. Been meaning to get it together, but I haven’ had the mind for it. ‘Til now. It be bigger and better than me old one.”
When we came in to see it, the back door was open so that the room was well lit for Rowland’s work. The old forge, a simple, raised pit with coal and other things on a brazier had a flickering flame heating it, a bellows attached to the bottom to stoke the flames.
The new structure was larger. Rather than a simple bowl-shaped brazier, it was longer and wider—rectangular shaped—and lidded. The roof to the structure was held up by three-inch rods of dark steel every foot or so for five feet. There were slats on the roof element that looked like they would slide down over the gaps.
“Ye like it, lad? Long, for swords, axes, and other larger items—for when I finally reach grandmaster.” Rowland motioned from the bottom to the top. “The sides get covered, helps reflect and keep the heat in when these metal latches are dropped. There’s a foot bellows that I can jump on to raise the heat if needed. There also be soft lids, hard, hard leather jackets that go on the ends to help keep it to temperatures I need.”
“That’s awesome, man!” I whistled in appreciation. “How long did it take?”
“Well, I had the parts and the know-how already. I just had to do it. Took about two, three hours? Mini helped me when I saw me shadow and went out o’ sorts.” Mini had since moved to his side and nipped at his pocket.
Rowland fished out a strip of bacon and tossed it to her gently. The little kit fell on it ravenously.
“Okay, so then I will enchant it for you. It’ll burn hotter and longer. The metal will be protected from heat, and the flames themselves will imbue magical properties. If I can.” I had a thought for a moment and looked at Rowland. “If I were to have you chalk a glyph that you understand for cooler and hotter, would that help you control the temperature of the flame?”
“Aye, but it needs to be even throughout. Whatever else ye throw in, I’ll learn to work with. Thank ye, lad. Yer too generous.” Rowland clapped me on the back and took some burnt coal that had turned white and began to draw at one side of the front portion of the new forge.
By the time he was finished, there was a small flame at one end—the left side—and a blaze on the other with a straight horizontal line between the two. I brought my mana out of my finger and matched the drawing perfectly, then made a connecting line to each side that dipped down below it to connect with a large circle about six inches in diameter. After that, I put a flame in the center of a shield, inside the circle to protect from heat, but to keep it contained as well.
I call
ed the mana back in, then thought better of this whole thing. An engraving that complicated was bound to be too difficult for me to do alone. So I split the enchantment. The bottom would provide the heat protection and contain the flames. The top, I engraved with… fuck. What kind of symbol could I engrave for magic?
“Hey, Maebe?” I looked at her where she leaned down, admiring my previous work. “What is a good symbol for magic?”
She thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I am uncertain. I could give you a symbol for Fae magics, but I do not think it would apply here.”
As I thought, I felt a stirring within the core of my being. It was Coal. The flame wolf closed his eyes and focused, before sending me an image of a flaming crown. A simple image, but the idea behind it was power over magical flame. All magical flame.
It was the symbol of the Primordial Flame Elemental.
I shrugged and used my mana to impart the flaming crown on to the lid on the inside. There was no flame inside now, so I wasn’t worried.
Help. The thought came out of nowhere, and I realized that it was the flame wolf inside me trying to speak to me. He paced around the den that he held as his home inside me and kept thinking that same thought to me.
I blinked and spent the menial 50 MP to summon him to the Prime realm. Mini started, but it seemed that the normally playful Coal had eyes only for the forge.
On the outside of the crown, I made certain to engrave symbols that I took as a blessing, waves of light coming from it like a child’s drawing of the sun. It was as creative as I would get this far out of my depth. I was going to have to try and find books for symbols or things to assist me in my engravings.
I heard a thump and noted that Coal was now inside the enclosed space with me. He looked me square in the eyes and thought, Help.
“Okay, buddy.” I reached over and patted his head affectionately. “You can help, but I need you not to roast me, so we need to make sure that if you’re going to breathe flame on it—you do it small, okay? Intense heat but pinpoint accuracy. Got it?”
Help.
Wolf has a one-track mind, I thought to myself.