by Garon Whited
This reminded me to check for people scrying on the valley. I’m not raising a scryshield over the whole valley any more than I’m raising a scryshield over the whole of the city of Vios. It’s like burying a prehistoric elephant: A mammoth undertaking.
On the other hand, where would someone want most to look? The central village. And with Renata sleeping in the tower, it’s likely they want to look there. I can scryguard the tower, sort of, without too much trouble. Much like one of the shields around the King’s Palace in the mountain, I can set up a redirector. Anyone projecting a scrying sensor inside the shield gets auto-connected to the mirror.
But wait! There’s more!
Suppose I raise such a shield as a permanent spell. It draws in power to keep itself running. It doesn’t always need to draw a lot of power if no one is trying to see in. What if it draws in slightly more power to increase its own size? It can stay centered on the tower—technically, it can stay centered on a small crystal with the spell’s primary pattern embedded in its matrix. It can expand from there, gradually, maybe a square meter or two every day until it covers the whole… well, it’s not a castle. Tower and outbuildings? Keep? Whatever it winds up being. I can even provide the spell matrix crystal a power supply and increase the rate of expansion—or increase the power to the scryshield if a lot of people keep poking it.
Would I want the scryshield to cover the whole valley? Probably not. Someone could enter the valley on foot through one of the less-convenient goat paths and be inside the scryshield. Nothing would stop them from looking around to their heart’s content. I could use multiple crystals to create different-sized shields, or I could restrict the main shield’s growth to only cover the tower and grounds. The latter strikes me as more practical.
So, there went my morning. I tested the mirror’s non-wizard functionality and it worked flawlessly, for the most part. My first check was to see downstairs, which it did. Next, I tried linking it to my Ring of Spying and sent a micro-gate out to find my stolen dynamos. It linked with the ring perfectly, but the dynamos were still shielded. Ah, well. The setup also worked when I looked for Kasara, Tellith, and… don’t tell me; I know this… Sharna! The three of them were still en route. I presume they rested at some point last night. By midday, they were well on their way to Spogeyzer.
How far is it from our bridge to Sarashda? I mean, Bronze and I can do it in an hour, but we’re not a good measure for mortals. Towing a cart, we still managed it in four hours or so. What would it be on foot? Four days of hard going? Five? Maybe three days on horseback? Should we expect them in another two days or so?
I wasn’t about to open a gate to lead a whole string of horses through. On the other hand, dropping off a couple of sacks of fodder and some human rations seemed a good idea. I parked the lot of it—thud!—on the road ahead, where they would be sure to find it. Leisel tied a black cloth around the mouth of the sack.
“What’s that for?”
“So they know it’s from you.”
I didn’t ask and didn’t argue, just sent it through. Once done, I told her about the mirror.
“So we should be able to post anyone on it,” I concluded. “It’s an enchanted mirror and simply works. Snap your fingers and it turns off the communication. Otherwise, it’ll answer any incoming call.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll get a regular watch set up for it.”
“Excellent.”
“And, if you’re not busy, Tessera wants a moment with you.”
“Something wrong?”
“I wouldn’t say so, no.”
“I was hoping to get some work done on the mill-race.”
“Too late.”
“What? It’s finished?”
“You think we sit on our asses and do nothing while you’re out?”
“I… no, I don’t. I only… huh. All right. I’ll want to inspect it.”
“Of course you will. Tessera first?”
“Sure. And what do you mean by ‘Of course you will’?”
“Only that you want to make everything perfect,” she replied, pulling up the trapdoor and ushering me down the steps. “You can’t leave well enough alone.”
“‘Good enough’ is never good enough,” I muttered, and went downstairs.
Tessera was still hard at her practice. A squad of warriors—of both genders—was taking turns fighting her. A moment of observation showed they weren’t getting into formal duels. Someone would walk up to Tessera, they would fight, pressing hard and as fast as possible, trying every trick they knew, and would fall back when Tessera was hit or the attacker started to slow from fatigue. Tessera would rest and a fresh warrior would be ready by then, having rested through the bouts with all the others.
When the present bout finished, Tessera threw down her stick and threw herself at me. She hugged me, hard, laughing. I hugged her in return while handing Leisel a puzzled look. Leisel only smiled. I noticed Tessera’s heartbeat was extremely high, practically a vibration, but she didn’t seem to notice or mind.
“I can fight!” Tessera whooped. “I can fight like I never fought before!”
“That badly?” I asked, knowing what she meant. “I hoped you would fight better.” She only laughed and let me go.
“What did you do? How did you do it? I’ve never been so fast! And I’ve learned—well, I’ve learned so many new moves! Everyone keeps trying to come up with something new, but my eye and my hand just seem to pick it up after a few tries!”
I mentally kicked myself. There’s a hyperactive healing spell running all around the brainstem and down through the cervical vertebrae. It put her bones back together quickly, which was good, and put the wiring back in place to let her have minor things like a pulse and respiration, which was better. Now, though, everything is working perfectly. All that energy is enhancing her natural functions, making them work faster, better. She’s building reflexes and skill—what they call “muscle memory”—in a perfectly natural fashion, but the spell is juicing it up to hyper-accelerated levels.
Again, the brain is a tricky thing to fix. Maybe I should take a class. Then again, what class should I take? Neuroanatomy might be a good start. I wonder if there’s a night course I can audit, somewhere.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. I told you you’d fight again, didn’t I?”
“You did, and I’m sorry I doubted you—sir!”
“Good. Now, we need to take the spell off. It places an enormous strain on your body and your heartbeat is far too fast.”
“Oh, it’s not too—” she began, pressing a finger to her throat, and stopped. She frowned.
“See what I mean? You’ll need to spend the remainder of the day and all tonight resting and eating and drinking all the water you can hold. Tomorrow you can go back to duty.”
“But—”
Leisel cleared her throat and Tessera shut up. I didn’t remove the spell, but I did alter it into a more generalized healing spell. For all I know, she has cardiac damage, or bones and tendons about to detach, or something. There’s no telling what side effects this might have. If she doesn’t notice any symptoms, though, they can’t be too immediate. Eighteen hours of resting with a healing spell should fix the worst of them.
As we walked away, Leisel sighed.
“First, you tell me not to tell anyone. Next thing I know, you’re talking about your spells.”
“Damn. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s saved Tessera from dying, maybe. Saved her from being a cripple, certainly. I’m not complaining, but you could warn me.”
“I didn’t think of it.”
“I know. You were only thinking of saving her. I’m going to have to do some gossip work.”
“Gossip work?”
“You’re a returned soul, remember? Try to act like one.”
“Uh… how do I do that?”
“How should I know? I’m no priest,” she pointed out. “Act wise, or something. It’s about the only way we can
get away with this.”
“Wise?”
“Do your best.”
“I’ll try.”
“By the way, we have a bunch of tree stumps wanting attention.”
“From an awakened, returned, enlightened soul?”
“From a magical sword. Magic swords of fire aren’t so bad. They’re just enchanted. Doesn’t mean you’re weird.”
“But I am weird.”
“Shh. Don’t tell anyone and try to keep it toned down. Go burn things with your blade. I’ve got to work out a schedule for tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
So I went out to the edges of the fields, stuck Firebrand in a series of stumps, and waited. After the first few, a squad of men and women came out with picks, shovels, and other garden implements. They chopped and dug and filled, leveling out the holes where there used to be roots.
Note to self: adjust the contour line of the valley’s dirt to make irrigation easier.
I did not like their farming tools. Not because I have an aversion to farm implements, but because I’ve seen better. For example, their picks were basically two sticks, tied together to form a cross, with the crossbeam sharpened at both ends. The better-quality ones were made with a haft selected to be forked, so the crossbeam could be tied in place on both, giving greater stability and strength. The shovels were worse, being semicircles on the ends of sticks, kind of like one end of the Vulcan lirpa. Rakes were forked sticks with a third stick tied in place between them, forming a three-tined implement.
I made notes.
Once we burned out the stumps, I went to examine the millrace. They’d done a good job on the wall in the river. It funneled water into a narrow stream for the waterwheel, raising the level of water flowing through and the power available. They were already building another mill on the opposite side. Judging by the large stone they were carving into a wheel, it would be a grain mill. Six people were in the water, already laying foundation courses for its millrace.
I put a minor spell on the sawmill’s millrace wall to eventually smooth it out and adjust the line of it. I wanted a less turbulent flow. Other than that, I had nothing to do, so I went back to my tower. Everyone was out doing something, except on the top floor. There, Leisel already had someone posted as a watch on the mirror. I nodded to her and she nodded back. I went down to the bedroom and wondered what I should be doing.
Osric? He wasn’t one of the warriors who tried to ambush us. If he’s smart, he’s avoiding me. Given his behavior in the arena—the sudden about-face and departure—he’s smarter than I gave him credit for.
What about the wizards? From the overheard conversation, they either know what I am or they’re afraid because they don’t know what I am. What tipped them off? Walking into a magical pawnshop? Possibly. A lot of bells went ding! If those didn’t identify me, they at least were an alarm to prompt them to check. But it was during the day… I don’t usually register as anything but mortal during the day. Why would the bells go off? And am I being investigated and annoyed by wizards on their own or by wizards hired by someone else to do so? That’s the trouble with wizards. They might do things for their own reasons or for someone else’s.
Then there’s the House of Sarcana. Specifically, Naskarl. They want Renata, but they seem unwilling to simply murder her. I don’t know what they plan for her, but I’m guessing it’s either a ritual sacrifice or captivity until the child is born. Hazir mentioned the idea there might be a deception as to the mother of the child. Would the priests be able to tell if the child was Palan’s or not? Regardless, there’s an heir involved, and one to a wealthy House. They’re not going to simply give up, and the vendetta decree is either their way of making it clear or a rather aggressive way of negotiating for what they want. Threatening an open war between us is probably meant to intimidate—“Give me your lunch money, twerp, and I won’t beat your face in.”
I don’t like bullies. Although, if I’m being honest, I’m something of a hypocrite. I’ve been a bully, myself. But then, I don’t like me, much, either.
Dungeons. I should expedite a formal dungeon. If House Sarcana is going to be unreasonable—and they might—then I’ll probably need someplace to store condemned prisoners. I have a basement for the tower, but it’s not a dungeon, yet.
I should probably also try again to call the House Sarcana. If they won’t take the call, I’ll have to write up the counteroffer. As soon as I come up with a good counteroffer, that is.
Oh! I should check on my backup lairs. There’s no telling how far along my pet pyramid is, nor what disasters have befallen my house the Zombified States of America.
This is the problem with sitting still. I start thinking of all the things I have yet to do and get anxious about not having done them.
First things first. I kicked the architectural spells into high gear to add yet another floor. The top floor used to be my scrying room. Now it’s about to be the central switchboard for the valley. Or, wait. Do they need to be here in the tower? Can we find an auxiliary building and put the switchboard operators—mirror operators—in there? I’ll check with Leisel and see where we can put them.
Regardless, I did need to update the tower’s architectural plans. The magic making it change shape needs a clear progression and I’ve been letting it slide. I also need a new mirror, since the main one is sort of a central viewscreen for the communications department. Grumbling, I let them have my workroom for a while. I dragged my portable gate, power crystals, and attitude down to the basement.
On the bright side, I did make time to deal with the tool issues.
A couple of small gateways into alternate realities found a collection of garden tools. I could have opened several small gateways, one after the other, but it would have taken more power. Instead, I opened one gateway, stepped through, and let my Ring of Spying keep a micro-gate open. I collected the various tools, opened the main gate again, and stepped through with a double armload of equipment. The poor guy in the garden tools department didn’t even shout. I wondered if the security camera would back up his story or if he would simply keep quiet and let his manager figure it out.
Next up, checking in on both the zombie lair and pet pyramid. Both seemed fine. The house has a repair spell on it, so it doesn’t need much maintenance. No one broke in while I was away, either. Maybe no one came by, maybe the Nothing To See Here spell kept it safe. Either way, it was fine.
The pet pyramid was in good shape. It was doing exactly what I wanted—sitting there, permanent and immutable, as a stable place for me to hide. Still black as pitch and dark as night, but at least those absorbing spells weren’t still replicating.
All in all, things were going well in both places. Of course, I wasn’t there to screw it up.
With the power left in the crystals—not counting my emergency escape charge—I encouraged the tower to grow faster, adding some specific instructions. Finish the top floors first, then get to work on displacing dirt and growing more of a dungeon. Subterranean passages and chambers might be more useful than I anticipated, and soon. I stepped into my headspace to do some design work.
The growth plans I had for the tower got an update. It’s tricky, since I can’t simply lay it out and tell it to go there. It’s more like drawing an animated short. Each successive frame has another small change, all of which add up to the final result. At least, the semi-final result before I change my mind and change the tower again.
Leisel stomped on the trapdoor and shouted down. In my headspace, the phone rang. I put it on speaker and heard her calling for me. I stepped back out of my headspace and told her to come in. She hauled up the trapdoor and descended a few steps.
“There’s someone on the mirror for you.”
“Oh? Took them long enough.”
“I’m told there have been several people appearing on the mirror, but they all vanished as soon as their image appeared.”
“They didn’t expect to get a mirror connection,” I guessed
, heading upstairs with the tools.
“If you say so. What’s all this?” she asked, regarding the yard equipment.
“Things to make. See to it these are given to whatever smiths and crafters we have. I want more of the same.”
“As you say. May I ask why?”
“Because the shovels around here are worthless.”
“Uhm. If you say so. I had more in mind why you care.”
“Oh. Look, if we have a hundred people digging with the shovels we currently use and each person digs three feet of ditch, that’s three hundred feet of ditch. With me?”
“I understand earthworks.”
“Good. Now, if we use the new shovel design, those hundred diggers can each do four or five feet of ditch in the same amount of time. If we have an hour to prepare, how fast do you want a ditch dug?”
“I take your point. And the rest of this stuff?”
“Again, the more work a farmer can do in less time, the more food each farmer produces. The more food they produce, the less we have to import.”
“I’m not sure I follow your thinking. You want to make it easier to farm?”
“Where do we get most of our food now?”
“Spogeyzer. Or one of the towns on the way. Farms around those, anyway. And some hunting. We have farmers doing their thing, but I don’t know how long it will be before we can eat any of it.”
“If we produce more food, we don’t have to buy it from anyone in the middle of a vendetta.”
I saw Leisel’s eyes widen. It hadn’t occurred to her Sarcana might try to starve us. The local idea of warfare isn’t the all-out thing I’m familiar with. It’s more maneuvering for a clearly victorious position. It’s less war and more chess. I understand these people better now that I’ve had more of a personalized dinner of several, but I’m still not an authority on how they think. I’m not a native, not by a long shot.
I left the tools on the ground floor and we climbed the stairs as we talked. I opened the trapdoors and held them for Leisel as we ascended. At the top, the mirror was on, like a window into another room. The guard stood next to it, waiting more patiently than the wizard in the mirror. The wizard was distorted somewhat, as though the mirror were some sort of funhouse reflection. It was an even distortion, though, all the way around. Maybe the other end of the communication was a crystal ball? It could account for the oddity of the image. Maybe it was my spell not being totally compatible with theirs.
