The Wizard's Daughters: Twin Magic: Book 1

by Michael Dalton

  The small piece of crystal, along with the rest of it, had turned deep blue.

  Not purple as with Temperance’s worn-out brain, nor smoky, as was more common with smaller automata that ran down, nor yellow or even green as sometimes occurred. Deep, sapphire blue. It was nothing he had ever seen before. And from what Walther knew of how quartz behaved in response to the Flow, it should have been impossible. Corundum could turn blue from the Flow, but quartz did not.

  Even more strangely, the resonance cube was less than a year old, and he had not used it that many times. Perhaps a dozen. No more than twenty. The crystal should still have been clear with so little use.

  Whatever Ariel had done had turned it blue. Somehow.

  Walther understood well—or thought he did, until now—what made the cube do what it did. The shape of a person’s flow was determined by many things: their personality, their character, their intelligence. For mages, their talent for controlling it as well. That shape would evolve somewhat through life, but for the most part, it was set at birth.

  The cube measured disturbances in the flows it detected through the cables. Deliberate falsehoods caused a disturbance in one’s flow, and that was why it also worked as a truth detector. But he had designed it to measure the shape of Ariel’s and Astrid’s flows and how close they were. With flows detected through both sets of cables, a resonance would be created inside the crystal, and that resonance would generate a reaction—a sound.

  It should not have created light. He could see no way that could have happened, even though it clearly had.

  The answer had to lie in why the crystal had turned blue. Somehow or another, there must have been an absolute torrent of energy moving through it. The crystal had exploded when Ariel had turned the knobs all the way right, putting the crystal directly between their flows with nothing to limit the resonance.

  But Ariel was not that powerful a mage. She was greatly talented, to be sure, but her skills were still limited. And Erich had no talent at all. They could not have created such energy together.

  At least, not intentionally. Could there, after all, been some sort of match between them? No, that was simply impossible. A talent for controlling the Flow shaped one’s personal flow in ways no non-mage could ever match. It would, as the saying went, have been a square peg in a round hole.

  And if they had somehow truly matched, the cube should have done nothing, much as it had done nothing when testing Ariel and Astrid. Instead, it had exploded. So a match, no.

  He returned to his chair and tried to get some rest. Whatever had happened, keeping Ariel and Erich apart from now on was likely a good idea.

  For a number of reasons.

  ♦ ♦

  Walther was not the only one lying awake that night.

  Ariel had returned to her bed in tears, though they were tears of embarrassment rather than sorrow. She had humiliated herself in front of Father and Erich, and destroyed Father’s favorite invention.

  How could she have been so stupid? Of course Erich could not have been her match. What had she been thinking?

  She was not sure she could face Erich again, not after the things she had been imagining about him, not after coming to his room nearly naked in the middle of the night the way she had.

  Erich was not a child. She was sure he had done those things in the book with other women. For her to appear at his room like that would have no doubt given him thoughts about her she desperately wished now she had not spawned.

  They were thoughts she could not help thinking herself, now.

  Erich’s arms and shoulders were so hard they seemed to be carved of wood. She thought about his story about his swordmaster, about the things he had made Erich do to strengthen them. Erich wore long shirts, and Ariel had not seen him bare-chested before tonight. It was a sight she had not prepared herself for.

  Her body ached thinking of him, and she wanted it to stop.

  ♦ ♦

  Erich’s thoughts were not far from Ariel’s. He was more concerned at first that the night’s events had ended his employment with Walther, but he kept returning to the memory of Ariel entering his room.

  For the smallest of moments when he realized who it was—he did not look for the freckle but he knew instinctively that it could only be Ariel—he thought she had come to visit his bed.

  Then she had beckoned him out. He was still completely baffled as to what had happened, why the cube had exploded, what on earth Ariel had been trying to do, but clearly she had had something on her mind that concerned him.

  What had she been trying to test? She had not asked him a single question.

  That nightdress had been so translucent.

  Well.

  He had been wondering since he arrived in their household what the girls’ bosoms looked like under those matching dresses they wore, and he now had his answer. The man who married them would receive a bounty indeed. Were it him, he thought he would likely spend a substantial portion of each day in bed playing with their breasts, pushing them this way and that to watch them spring back into place.

  Thinking this way made him realize how long it had been since he had been with a woman. Months. That barmaid in Limburg, before all the unpleasantness there. Since then, his purse had been too light for whoring.

  He groaned and rolled over, trying to sleep.

  14.

  The incident with the resonance cube cast a pall over the household for several days. Ariel told Astrid as little as she could about what they had done, but it was enough for Astrid to suspect where Ariel’s thoughts had been going.

  Walther visited briefly with Erich after waking the following afternoon.

  “Ariel can be impulsive, and I do not blame you for that, but should she approach you with a similar idea in the future, I would request that you do nothing until speaking with me.”

  Erich, meanwhile, did what he could to avoid the girls, which was not difficult because they seemed to be avoiding him as well, Ariel especially. Walther finished Fortitude late the following night, slept again until noon and, after ascertaining that everything with the automaton was in order, found Erich out on the doorstep.

  “I need your assistance with the final task to activate Fortitude.”

  Erich did not try to conceal his surprise.

  “Mine?”

  “Yes. I need to enchant its brain. That involves placing instructions and skills into the crystal that controls it. I have no skill with weapons.”

  “I see. But what can I do?’

  “I need to draw on your expertise. In essence, we will be enchanting it together. You will be linked to me with a device similar to the resonance cube.”

  The mention of that device put Erich immediately on guard.

  “I do not want another explosion.”

  Walther shook his head.

  “The principles of operation are different. I have done this before, and it is perfectly safe. It will in effect be creating a copy of your skill with the blade inside the crystal.”

  “You will understand my reluctance, nonetheless.”

  “I do. But I did this with the girls when I tried to teach Temperance to cook. I did it with Karl the leatherworker when I created his cash box, so that it would be attuned to him alone. There is no risk.”

  Erich stood slowly. “I will place my trust in you, then.”

  “I cannot finish Fortitude otherwise. Right now it has the physical ability to fight, but it does not know how.”

  Walther led him back to the workshop. In the center of the table was something that resembled a brass chalice. In the cup was a large quartz crystal, and attached to its base were several cables, two of which had brass circlets at their ends. He motioned to a chair, and Erich sat.

  “Why do you name your automata after virtues?” he asked.

  “You would prefer vices?” Walther replied.

  Erich laughed. Walther placed one of the circlets on Erich’s head, and the other on his.

  “Jus
t remain still. There is nothing for you to do.”

  Walther closed his eyes and placed his hands on the crystal. As Erich watched, the crystal began to glow. He felt an odd tickling in his head, but nothing else.

  Walther withdrew his hands, but the crystal still glowed. He removed his circlet and Erich did likewise.

  “Well. That was considerably easier than I thought it would be.”

  “That’s it?”

  “So it seems. Normally it takes longer. You seem uncommonly attuned to the Flow for a non-mage.”

  “What do you mean? You think I have a talent?”

  “No. I do not mean it in that fashion. A talent to control the Flow is distinct from the characteristics of your personal flow. Think again of my analogy of the river. Some rivers are wide and slow, some narrow and fast. Some rivers flow smoothly while others are choked with rocks and weeds. Do you follow me?”

  “I think so.”

  “Your flow is both wide and fast, which is rare. Were you a mage, it would serve you well.”

  “Could that be what destroyed the cube?”

  “Alone, no. It may have been related to it, somehow. But to be honest, I am still not sure what happened.”

  He took the crystal out of the cup of the chalice and placed it into the receptacle inside Fortitude. Mindful of the problem that had stemmed from the difficulty of replacing Temperance’s brain, he had made Fortitude’s much easier to reach.

  When the crystal was in place, Fortitude came to life, straightening up and taking a step forward. Unlike the brass automata, which moved with clinking and squeaked, Fortitude clanked loudly as it moved.

  “Now what?” Erich asked. With the enchantment process complete, he found he was curious to see what it would do with his skills.

  “It has two modes of operation: practice and combat. I have set it to practice.”

  Digging around on one of the workbenches, he came up with a battered rapier.

  “Would you mind sparring with it?”

  “Certainly.”

  Walther led Fortitude into the front hallway, and Erich followed.

  “Just extend your sword, and it should activate.”

  Erich drew his rapier and pointed it at Fortitude. The automaton immediately lifted its rapier in turn and stood at the ready. He thrust forward, and the automaton parried as he expected, but slower than it should have, and Erich followed with a riposte to the thing’s chest. It began the parry that should have come, but too late.

  Walther grumbled. “Hmm.”

  Erich tried again. He realized rather quickly that he could predict what the thing would do, because it was fighting exactly as he would have done. Had he been fighting a twin of himself, it would have been a draw, but he was not. He was fighting a heavy iron-clad automaton, and it mattered.

  “Something must be wrong,” Walther said after a minute or two of this.

  “It is,” Erich said, “but it is not the thing’s fighting. It is moving as it should be. It is that you did not build it to fence. It is simply too slow.”

  “I built it for strength, not speed.”

  “So it needs to be able to fight from its strength. Give it a heavier blade. It is not as if anyone with a rapier is going to damage it anyway.”

  Erich lunged at Fortitude and slashed the tip of his rapier across its neck. Had it been human, it would now be dead, but all the blow did to Fortitude was lay a scratch across the steel plating. He turned to Walther.

  “It does not need to worry about rapiers. It needs the biggest, heaviest blade you can give it.”

  Walther nodded and went to his study. He emerged a few moments later with the two-handed sword that had been mounted over the mantle.

  “This was presented to my grandfather by the Council of Köln for his work repairing the city clock. I do not believe it has ever been used.”

  Erich examined it. It was well forged and still sharp despite decades above the fireplace.

  “Are you skilled with such a blade?” Walther asked.

  “I have trained with them, though I prefer lighter, faster weapons.”

  “Good, so Fortitude should be able to use it.”

  He took the automaton’s rapier and gave it the sword.

  “There is no point in attempting to spar like this,” Erich said. “I do not want my head taken off.”

  “There is no need. We have established that Fortitude can fight now. Thank you.”

  Erich nodded. He noticed now that Ariel and Astrid had been watching from the upper balcony.

  “Is it done, Father?” Astrid asked.

  “It would appear so.”

  “So we can go now?”

  “We can begin preparations. Erich and I will assemble the provisions and such. You two should begin packing your things. I have faith in Fortitude, but I suppose it would be best not to leave behind anything you wish to see again.”

  Then he lowered his eyebrows at them.

  “Oh, and Ariel, pray do not forget that book you took from my library. It belonged to your mother, and I had planned to hand it down to you at your wedding.”

  Both girls’ faces turned red, and they ducked away from the balcony. Erich looked at Walther, but no explanation was forthcoming. Up above, he could hear peals of laughter coming from the girls’ room.

  ♦ ♦

  While Walther went looking for a wagon and three horses (two to pull the wagon, in which he and his daughters would ride, and one for their guide), Erich went about the town seeking anyone who had recently made the journey.

  In the third tavern he visited, he met a fat merchant who had just arrived in Weilburg with his two sons. After Erich bought them a round of ale, the man described his trip, and what he said made Erich’s heart sink.

  “There are ogres raiding the road,” the man said. “In the hills, where it crosses that river, the lands are no longer patrolled. The lord there has abandoned the forest to the beasts. You had best cross through as fast as you can. Worse, the bridge there is washed out. It can be forded, but they are preying on the crossing.”

  “The ogres?”

  “Aye, a pair of them.”

  “We lost an ass,” the man’s son said. “They came upon us as we began fording the river. We fled as fast as we could, but they caught the hindmost beast.”

  “And no doubt had it on a spit that night,” the man said. “We were fortunate to have only pack animals. Had we been on a wagon, we could not have escaped.”

  ♦ ♦

  Erich relayed the news to Walther.

  “We could forget the wagon and travel on horseback.”

  “The girls are not strong riders. If their horses were to panic, I am certain one or both would be thrown. And I have too many things to bring in any case. We need a wagon.”

  “Could we travel lighter?”

  “They need their finery. They are looking for a husband. And I have inventions to share, work to discuss with my colleagues. We would need a dozen mules, at least.”

  Walther fumed for a moment.

  “Is the risk so great? Can you face down a pair of ogres on your own?”

  “I have faced ogres before. They are very strong, but slow and stupid. But I would not want to face two ogres armed only with a rapier. I will need a larger sword for such creatures.”

  “See if you can find one.”

  Erich went to the smith, but the news grew worse.

  “I cannot sell you such a blade,” the smith told him. “It is forbidden in these lands. I have none to sell even if I could. Only the watch is permitted to carry them.”

  Erich looked behind him to see if they might be overheard. “Can you not make one? It is for Walther and his daughters. I need it to protect them on this trip.”

  The smith stepped back into his workshop. “Even if I were to make you one, it would take at least a week, and that is only if I put all my other work aside, which I cannot do.”

  “You made the knives in a few days.”

  “A knif
e such as those is an hour’s work. I could fit a set of them in and around my other jobs. A large sword is a different matter. Even assuming, again, that I were willing to do this, I could at best deliver it in two weeks, and that is only because I owe Walther a favor for all his past business. But I have other customers I cannot ignore.”

  “What would you suggest, then?”

  The smith fumed for a few moments.

  “Go to the gatehouse tonight and ask for Ilian. He is the town master at arms, but he loves gold more than he cares for his responsibilities. It is possible they may have an extra blade or two that he is willing to sell you. But he will ask a dear price.”

  Ilian proved to be an irascible sort who flatly refused to sell Erich a regular blade, even when Erich tried to leverage his connection to Walther.

  “I will be happy to see him go,” Ilian said. “When those girls are gone, there will be fewer fights between lovesick pups in the taverns for my men to deal with.”

  But after ten minutes of entreaties, Ilian agreed to sell Erich one of their practice blades. It was a battered, blunted weapon with poor balance, but it appeared he had no other options. Ilian demanded twice what it was worth. Erich wearily paid him and took the blade to the smith to be sharpened.

  ♦ ♦

  Shortly after dawn two days later, the four of them rode out the gate and across the river toward Köln.

  “So we go to meet our husband at last,” Astrid said as they left.

  “I only hope he’s handsome,” Ariel said.

  “I only hope he knows what he’s getting into,” Walther muttered.

  None of them saw him or spared a glance in his direction, but Hans Bergdahl watched them from the roof of a house near the town wall. He sat there until they rounded a bend and disappeared from view, tears streaming down his face, cursing to his dying day the men—whomever they might be—who would marry the women he loved.