by Cebelius
It was in Shy's nature to let life come to her, rather than go to it. That was who she was ... most of the dryads she knew or had known were even less likely than she to seek growth. They were ageless, and so inclined to wait for whatever the flow of time chose to bring them.
I can't do that anymore. Not if I want to be useful. Not if I want to keep up. I must try harder. I can't just be who I am and think that will be enough. I have to IMPROVE who I am.
"I have to change the way I think," she murmured.
"Huh?"
Laina's shadow fell over her as she tilted her head to look down at Shy, who noticed her wincing at what she saw. She knelt and set gentle fingers on Shy's chest, just below one of the punctures. "I can give you more," she said, "but I'm not sure it'll do anything else. Can you wait just a little? Mila is here, but she's workin' on Halla right now. She's pretty messed up too."
"I can wait. I'm a tree, remember?"
She smiled faintly. "I'm good at waiting."
It was clear in the twist of Laina's lips that she didn't understand what Shy really meant. Laina probably only remembered what Shy had once said when Volai had them imprisoned in Florence Keep.
"We'll fix this, don't you worry," the minotress said quietly.
"I know."
Shy lifted her unbroken arm and gestured Laina closer. When she came, the dryad leaned up and kissed her softly, then murmured against her lips, "I love you. Thank you, hon."
Laina blushed a bit, and Shy caught her eyes flickering around as though worried someone else would see. Then the minotress focused on her again, and she smiled a bit sheepishly as she said, "I love you too. I'll wait right here. Halla's already had a bottle, and Mila looks like she'll be done in a minute."
"Where is Euryale?" Shy asked.
"She's down the hill a ways, telling the tauren gathering there to get lost. I don't think she wants anyone up here but us."
Shy laughed softly. She still felt no pain, but the unnatural divots in her body and the weakness in her bones kept her from more. She was silently grateful to Euryale, both for reaching them in time and for her intersession. She would have to make that gratitude known later.
Mila came to her shortly thereafter, and Shy felt healing power course through her body like a rising tide, washing away her wounds and leaving her feeling refreshed and whole.
As she leaned up, taking Laina's hand and letting the minotress haul her to her feet, she couldn't help but notice that the effort of healing the grievous wounds of both an oni and herself seemed not to have bothered Mila in the least.
Tee's gift to her is truly impressive.
Shy picked up the Rod of Arcs, then looked around and said, "Give me a moment here."
She communed in the way of her people with the ground around her, and commanded roots to rise up and submerge the bodies of the vrykolakas and her minions. She noticed as she did this that only the remains of the centaur and the phase beast were present. Despite the devastating blows she had taken from Halla, the loup-garou had apparently not only survived, but managed to escape.
Lucky, she thought, and decided to let the matter pass. The four of them walked down the hill, collecting Euryale, and passing through the gathered tauren on their way back to the Temujin section of the carnival.
As she walked, Shy couldn't help but notice the interest she received from the tauren all around. Most of the minotaurs gave her lusty looks that she was familiar and comfortable with, but many of the minotresses were also eyeing her up and down, and their expressions ranged from speculative to hostile.
Word of Tee must have spread through the carnival like wildfire, Shy mused. It was a serious source of potential trouble, given what the accords said about communal property.
In essence, resources that were too scarce to be collected or traded for by each herd individually were considered common property, to be passed as needed from one group to the next.
Interestingly, the rule was most often applied to warriors of a certain caliber. Whenever a threat arose somewhere on the Steppes, warriors who had attained a certain reputation were sent to deal with the threat, and they did not charge for their services. It was expected and required of them in exchange for their being allowed to live with the herds.
Likewise the owner of a given weapon, or wielder of a rare ability. While not expected to surrender the weapon, they were required to wield it according to the dictates of a council of herd elders.
So of course, should a template appear ...
If they have their way they'll be passing him around like a hemp pipe for the rest of his life.
Shy knew Tee would never tolerate such treatment, and in all honesty he was probably powerful enough now to prevent it on his own. Even without his bond gifts he had subdued a powerful young minotaur in the prime of his strength. With them, and the Rod of the Heart, he could make and enforce threats that should keep the herds at bay.
The question is, how to keep him from doing that.
There was an opportunity here, if only Shy could see a way through to take advantage of it. If, somehow, Tee could gain the loyalty of the herds ... he would gain the army he needed. Tauren ate a vegetarian diet, which would make supplying an army of them considerably easier than one made up of predator species.
And an army of minotaurs was no joke. There were legends of such armies wiping out kingdoms and leaving the lands fallow as they passed, looting towns and cities and abandoning them to fall into ruin.
Such a thing had not happened in recent memory, and as a whole tauren were a placid people, but when provoked sufficiently they were as implacable as an avalanche.
She was still turning over the possibilities when they reached the yurt. Euryale and Laina stepped inside as Halla declared to no one in particular, "I'm hungry. I'm going to go hunting."
"No one we know, please," Shy said.
When Halla looked at her, she added, "Best if you do your hunting away from the carnival. Are you sure you don't want to eat some of the livestock we have here?"
"I'm going to go looking for any more stragglers," Halla declared. "I don't want any more of those bitches hanging around."
She hesitated a moment, then added, "If I see someone I know I can't handle, I'll come get you guys. You're handy in a fight."
Shy smiled and dipped her head graciously, and Halla stomped away, growing in size with every step until she towered over the carnival, turning heads and causing people to leap out of her way as she moved.
"That woman does things her own way," Mila said as she too turned to watch the giant go.
"She does. It troubles me a bit, but I think she will be all right as long as she's properly handled."
"How does one properly handle a giant?" Mila asked.
"Literally, and carefully," Shy replied with a wry smile. "She doesn't really appreciate jokes ... at least, not the ones I tell."
"Hah. While we have a moment, I want to talk to you."
Shy noted that the newly minted rakshasa had removed the sleeves of her cream-colored robes, and her arms were bared. Muscle stood out even through the fur, and the dryad looked curiously at the marks on her shoulders. The stripes there were curled into whorls that resembled eyes.
"I'm listening," Shy said, her eyes flicking from Mila's arms to the rest of her, then back to her face.
The tigress had grown a few inches and was now slightly taller than Shy's six feet. She was also a bit broader, and where before her chest had been something of a mystery, her breasts were now clearly defined against her robes, though it was an open question whether that was because they had grown, or because her robes were being pulled tighter across her overall larger frame.
Probably a bit of both, she mused with a slight smile, and resolved to see if she could get that robe off at some point to see for herself.
Mila's features had the same sleek predator's grace Shy was accustomed to, but the sabers now depending from her upper jaw down to an inch past her chin lent her an additional e
lement of brutality previously missing.
Mila's green eyes narrowed slightly, then she said, "Before we talk, let me ensure we are not overheard."
She had her staff in hand, and as Shy glanced from the Rod of Arcs to it, she wondered what kind of personality it had.
'Are you TRYING to piss me off?' the Rod asked. 'Even after I chose not to rail you for your ongoing incompetence? See if I cut you another break anytime soon.'
Smiling faintly, Shy didn't answer. She could tell the feeling thrumming through the Rod of Arcs had its own undercurrents of amusement. They were faint, but present. It knew just as surely as she did that she no longer had any intention or desire to trade it away.
Mila's staff was wooden and gnarled, with a rootball twisting around a fair-sized emerald at the top. That emerald glowed to life as Mila spoke words of power in a language that sounded completely alien to Shy's ear. It was nothing like the one Tee used.
When she finished, there was no apparent change, but the tigress seemed satisfied as she said, "No one outside ten feet will be able to hear us. From this position there is nowhere for anyone to eavesdrop without me noticing."
Shy glanced around. There were a few camp stools still out, and the makings of a new fire laid out in the firepit, but no people.
"Have a seat, if you please."
Shy took a few steps to one of the camp stools and sat slowly, her eyes never wavering from Mila's face as she tried to piece together what might be on her mind. Her ears were erect, forward, and her tail in a neutral posture that was a little bit too posed. Her words likewise lacked inflection.
This is not an entirely friendly meeting.
Mila confirmed the thought as she said, "Now we know what Terry's 'gift' to me is. Tell me. How will he react to this?"
She spread her arms and opened her empty hand. Her other held the staff, but both were backward, showing their backs to Shy. Mila tilted her head, and Shy noticed for the first time that she apparently had a full head of black hair growing in. Before she'd had only fur atop her head, but it seemed this too was changing.
"You are who you have always been," Shy said in neutral tones. "I am surprised you still doubt him."
"I do not believe he would do anything drastic, but even if he felt revulsion he would probably try to hide it from me rather than admit his feelings. He is too kind. That is why I am asking you, now, while he is not here. Prada once told me that we are all monsters to him, but you were his first. Of us all, you look the most like a template female. Only you and Prada have access to his mind directly. Your bond runs deeper than any other, and I do not trust Prada. Will he be able to love me, or should I leave him?"
"Are you considering leaving?"
"I have said it. If he cannot love me, I will not stay. I would not be able to bear it."
Shy gazed at Mila for a long moment before she admitted, "Of the two of us, Tee and I, I am the more likely to lie to you, Mila Kolenko. Terrence Mack has never lied to me or anyone when asked a direct question. I am known to keep secrets. Are you sure you want my answer?"
"Yes, because when you answer I will also know your mind. You cannot lie to me, Shy Willow. Not anymore. I will know it if you try. Do I still have a place with him?"
"Yes. Unlike the rest of us, he loved you before the two of you had sex. I think if he could choose only one woman, there is a good chance he would have chosen you."
"Not Laina?" Mila asked, bringing her staff in and setting it in front of her as she gripped it with both hands.
"Perhaps. But Laina forced the issue, like all the rest of us. He loves her just the same, but I do not know if he would have pursued her on his own."
"And you?"
"I seduced him. He was alone, hungry and helpless, when he found me. It was easy. I fell in love with him later, and he with me, but in the beginning I lured him with promises of aid and pleasure. He knew nothing of Celestine, and I took every advantage."
Shy smiled slightly as she added, "I regret nothing. He needed me, and I needed him. I still need him."
"You were right," Mila said as she took a step and sat down facing Shy. Her demeanor had relaxed noticeably, and she offered the dryad a toothy smile. "His bond gift to me was to give me what I most wanted in all the world."
"What was that?" Shy asked.
"The chance for revenge. The chance to free my people from Vlad."
Wincing as understanding flashed through her, Shy said, "Now Vlad is dead, and perhaps your people are as well."
"Yes. I have power, but no longer any purpose, if what Vlad said about our village is true."
Shy blinked. "You think he could have been lying?"
Mila shrugged. "Lying, or telling a truth other than the one we heard, he has deceived me and mine since before I was born. I believe they are dead, but that will not keep me from going to see for myself. It is worse this way ... It feels like I will lose them twice."
"We will be there with you," Shy said quietly.
They looked at each other for a long moment, then Mila said, "I hope that you are right about Terry. I do not know if I could bear to see him turn from me now."
"He won't. He loves strong women, and you've only gotten stronger." Shy gave the other woman a quirky smile as she added, "Besides, you know if he treated you badly, Yuri would have him for breakfast."
Mila, apparently missing the joke, said, "He would try, but I would never permit it."
Maybe it's MY humor that's off.
Shaking her head in bemusement, Shy tried another tack. "All else aside, it would be good if we could figure out a way for you not to tear him to shreds the next time you're in bed together."
Mila's ears twisted flat and she grimaced. "That is a concern. I ... in my heat I apparently am not so good at restraint."
Shy smiled with more than a hint of mischief in her voice as she said, "Restraint may be just the thing."
"I, do not follow," Mila said, her ears perking forward as she blinked. "You want to work on self-control exercises with me?"
Her smile broadening into an open grin, Shy said, "Not ... quite. Putting that aside for the moment, I have some concerns about our staying here much longer."
Mila's expression hardened. "A valid concern. You have read the accords?"
She gestured to the scroll dangling from a vine at Shy's side, and the dryad glanced down at it absently, nodding as the tigress went on. "There was a council meeting last night. I am not sure what the outcome was, because no one has come by to inform us. That troubles me. I believe the tauren are even-handed for the most part, but Terry is a temptation for even the best sort of people,"
"Their view on communal property is troubling," Shy agreed.
Nodding, Mila said, "I would prefer that no one go anywhere alone for now. When Halla returns we should tell her. Given her recent display she is probably safe enough for the moment, but there is no way to be sure. We should post a watch, and consider camping outside the carnival. Perhaps some distance away. With the wagon and our supplies intact, that should pose no issue. It is early summer, and the weather is good."
"Won't they trouble us about refusing their continued hospitality?" Shy asked.
"Perhaps, but unless they are willing to move against us I doubt their objections will prove significant. I think it likely they will wait to see if Terry returns. If he does not, they will not want to have started a potentially costly fight with us for nothing."
"That makes sense. I agree. We should get ready to move, and once Halla returns we can leave the carnival."
Mila blinked, then glanced around as she asked, "Have you seen Prada?"
"Not since yesterday, but I would not worry about her being gone," Shy said. She'd given it some thought, and felt she had an idea what might be going through the doppelgänger's mind. "I think she probably has a better idea than we do what's going on at the carnival, and is keeping an eye on things in her own way. Best leave her to her own devices. She can take care of herself."
19
Answers
Terry spent most of a full day in the chicken-legged hut named Goran. While the hut had no voice of its own, it proved a good host. Terry was given food and drink, and at one point a small table was brought out and he learned the hut could play a mean game of checkers.
How much time precisely had passed was a mystery. The sun never seemed to stay up for too long, but Terry had a pretty good guess based on how often he got hungry. His diet had been rather limited of late, and it felt good, if overly filling, to have real food again.
At last though, the eye-lights of the skull on the shelf lit up and spoke.
"I believe I have your solution, T-Mack. It will almost certainly work, but you are not going to like it."
"Killing people isn't high on my list of fun times in the first place," he said, glancing up from his latest game.
"Ha, fair. You first-world humans are all so squeamish. Short and sweet: what you need is a sword."
Terry gave the skull 'the look,' and it went on with a chuckle. "The sword you need has a name. It is famous, or was once, and in the fullness of time made its way to Celestine. It is being held in a dungeon complex called Svartheim in a mountain range about oh, three hundred miles west of here."
"Svartheim? Sounds norse."
"It is, as is the sword, which is called Tyrfing. Ever hear of it?"
"Nope."
"Philistine. Tyrfing was crafted by the dwarves, but not willingly. As a sword it is an exemplar of its kind. It does not dull or rust, and is able to cut through stone, metal, and flesh with equal facility, but it had four curses wrought into the blade at its forging. Three of those curses have been expended, but the forth remains, and it is that curse which allows it to suit your needs."
