Dancer (Wine of the Gods Book 15)

by Pam Uphoff

  Chapter Four

  Winter 1395

  Ash, Kingdom of the West, Comet Fall

  Xen slept. Safe at home, he released the last of his wariness and let the healing sleep take him completely. A prisoner of the Empire of the One, once the life threatening injuries had healed, he'd never dared lose himself completely to the healing trance. The Empire had enough shared history with his own people that the tradition of shooting enemy spies was known to both.

  But now he slept deeply. Dreamed strange and frightening things. Beautiful things that he awoke from, crying. Things he wished were real. Might have actually happened. He dreamed Rael was alive, that she'd summoned the God of Spies to her hospital room and he'd healed her. Or at least tried, for as long as the dream lasted. He woke, and stared at the ceiling of his old room. Rael had been a gloriously happy, sane and joyful woman. Powerful and protective . . . dying on the ground.

  He staggered out of bed, and down the stairs. Water, food, privvy, shower. More food, more drink. He looked up the stairs, and turned away.

  His legs felt weak. After a month of laying in bed they ought to have been weaker, but a healing trance wasn't quite the same as, well, just lying in bed. "I need the exercise, and I do not need another impossible dream." He drained his glass and walked out to the porch. No one in sight, a bright sunny, icy cold day. The snow was two feet deep, shoveled away from the path, melting along the stream that drained the hotspring behind the house. The crunch of breaking ice crust, and a horse high stepped through the snow, jumped the stream and trotted toward him.

  "Hey, Horsie." Xen eyed the icy steps beyond his bare toes.

  :: Stay there! I'm coming. You have to heal. ::

  :: I'm healing. I'm even awake. ::

  A skeptical snort. Pyrite sidled up to the edge. ::Get on. I'm warm. ::

  "I'll probably fall off." It took a concentrated effort to get his leg up over the tall horse's back, and he clutched mane unashamedly as his balance wavered. "So, how've you been, Horsie?"

  :: I'm fine. You're the one who got shot. Again! You should have taken me with you. I could have helped with the shields. ::

  "Yeah . . . but I don't think you could have come to the party." He couldn't help but snicker a bit.

  Pyrite snorted, and turned slowly and carefully before he waded through the snow and around the corner of the house. The south side was out of the wind and caught the sun. It felt glorious. He closed his eyes and absorbed sunshine.

  "Is anything going on? How's Q?"

  :: She comes to check on you regularly. She lives at the Crossroads. River, Grace, Nighthawk and Simon are there. Yellow and Deena come to get witching lessons from River. :: The horse's ears twitched as he thought. :: The puppies grew up while you were gone. I kept reminding them of you, and telling them how to behave. They don't like herding sheep. They're in the black right now, because your Mom got mad about the mud and snow. Pig is very good at opening doors. ::

  "Three quarters Hell Hound. They must be pretty smart. I need to stay awake long enough to train them." Xen yawned and leaned forward on the horse's neck. "I had this odd thought while I was dreaming. About adjusting the time ratio on bubbles. Do you suppose it can be changed? If I could shift it to where it experienced more time, like three or four times as much as the outside world, I could use one for the healing sleep. I probably need another six months, to really finish up and completely recover. It'd be nice if I could do it in two months, and get back to work before they forget all about me. And train the puppies before they get any older . . . They're two years old, aren't they?"

  Pyrite turned his head enough to eye him. :: Except for when they're bad and your mom puts them in the black. ::

  "Oh. Sounds like I really had better heal fast."

  "Yes." Pyrite lifted his head further, ears swiveling around toward the front of the winery. "Someone . . . Deena is here."

  "Xen? What are you doing sitting on a horse in bare feet? We have a problem, and frost bitten toes won't help."

  ***

  "The first of them came through at the Winter Solstice."

  Xen leaned elbows on the kitchen table and sipped strong coffee. "How many are through now? With what equipment?"

  "Several hundred, lots of wheeled vehicles, none with tracks. Rufi's man doesn't know enough about advanced weaponry to pick up the details. That's why we all need to get down there, as soon as possible." Deena eyed him, shook her head. "You're still doing the healing sleep, aren't you?"

  "Yeah. Umm, I may be able to do something about that. How soon is Lefty moving us out?"

  "We're already down there. Well, we've reached the border. Yellow's got a line of corridors from Fort Farofo to the border, and they're trying to figure out the best way to extend it further. Mutterings of 'draft Q' have been heard. But she's working full time trying to train a pack of old professors how to use a Oner computer. And supervising the setting up of a new printing press so they can print all those books we bought. Rufi said to try you first."

  Xen nodded. Failed to stifle a yawn. "Right, well I'm still going to be sleeping way too much, but I ought to be able to do things in between, when I surface for food."

  The thump of footsteps. Two parents glaring.

  "Tell me I misunderstood what I thought I just heard you say as I walked in?" Rustle Neverdaut's voice was mild and mildly skeptical.

  The God of War just eyed him silently.

  "They need some help? And really, I'm practically healed."

  His mother sighed. "All those blood vessels you healed are still thin, recovering slowly. All those nerves you repaired, the redundancy isn't there yet. The nerve sheaths are still thin. The bones are . . . well, by now they're probably back up to normal strength. Your guts . . . same problems. You stretched and patched in tissue to fill the holes and get everything working instead of leaking. Now it all needs to be grown into, thickened, and strengthened. Your immune system has been running flat out for five months now. Once you've finished healing, it will need time to recover. I'd say you needed another seven months to finish healing, but under the circumstances it's probably more like a whole year. Not to mention that your muscular strength is not up to par."

  Xen shrugged. "Mom have you ever tried to adjust the time dilation ratio in bubbles?"

  She blinked. "No . . . and even if it could be reversed, do you have any idea how much food you'd need to take with you for that to work?"

  "Reversed . . . humm. I just thought maybe faster than out side by a factor of three or four . . . I guess I worry about control. Or pushing it too far. I've only done it once—for a dog. And it didn't slip. Having it snap back to the natural dilation while sleeping for three days would be . . . awkward. Even if it would be handy to sleep for a year—in a single day."

  Now his dad was looking thoughtful too. "Go pack, while we work on this."

  His packing was just a matter of stuffing everything he might need into bubbles. Clothes, bedding and weapons each in separate bubbles . . . then digging his uniform out of the clothing bubble and putting it on . . . finding his boots . . .

  I'm half asleep. This is not one of my brighter ideas. But all I need to do is stretch corridors down to Fascia, right?

  He stuck all the bubbles on his arm . . . forgetting which was which, but he could figure that out later. Downstairs his parents had a bubble around a small tent.

  "As best we can figure, it's close to twenty times faster inside than out." His father eyed him. "Do not get into a fight—sword or magic—in the shape you are in right now. Deena is saddling Pyrite." He closed the bubble over the tent and stuck it on Xen's other arm.

  Rustle snorted. And stuck another bubble on his arm. "Remember to eat. I stashed a lot of food in there. And water."

  "Yes, Mother." His attempt to sound put upon slid into snickers and received a shaken fist.

  Out on the front porch, Deena was scowling at Pyrite. Saddle and saddle bags. No bridle or halter. She looked over her shoulder. "Will you stop t
hat! Just tell me you don't need a bridle. You don't have to try to make me believe that the horse said that the shape you're in you'll need both hands free to hold on. If you didn't look like death warmed over, I'd suggest a few rounds on the training grounds."

  Xen grinned. "Well, well. Pyrite's a lot louder than he used to be. I guess magic horses advance just like human type magicians. But if you don't want him to talk to you, I'm sure he won't."

  :: Dun stole all the palominos while I was busy. But four of the foals are mine! :: Definite smugness. :: And Stripy and Cat's foals too. ::

  "They haven't made you give the palominos back yet?"

  Mental equine smirk. :: They can't catch them. Dun is having fun. ::

  Puberty, loss of virginity and fatherhood. All in just over a year. I'll have to check out these foals . . . probably almost yearlings, by now. Xen climbed aboard and followed Deena down the path. And train the puppies.

  But first we need to sort out the Earthers.

  One problem at a time.