season avatars 01 - seasons beginnings

by sandra ulbrich almazan

  ready knew what he was going to say.

  “I’ll create an artifact that will multiply my wife’s singing and the

  Winters’ magic for creating heat to the strongest levels possible. That

  should bring down Salth’s house.”

  Now all I have to do is figure out how.

  * * *

  The next day, Kron brought a sack full of artifacts to the market-

  place. They sold faster than he’d expected, since he hadn’t realized

  being married to an Avatar would bring him so much attention. Cus-

  tomers stopped to ask him to ask Bella for a favor and ended up

  bartering for one of his items as well. Others simply wanted to talk

  about the Four or ask if the chaotic storms would return. Kron reassured

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 6 5

  them as best as he could. By the time his sack was empty, his mind was

  full of questions—but still no ideas for the crystal-shattering artifact.

  Kron yielded his market space to a spice trader and roamed the market,

  seeking inspiration.

  Let’s see...making it warm while singing a loud note will do the trick.

  What items would help me with that? Lutes? Drums? Pipes? Bella’s a

  singer, not an instrumentalist. What about heat? What would be useful

  for the Winters? Why just the Winters? The Four said all twelve Avatars

  need to journey to Salth’s house, and I think that must be true even if I

  don’t think they all need to travel upriver. Are they only needed for their

  linking power, or something more? What? What?

  Kron didn’t think the food section of the market held the answers,

  so he worked his way around the square. There were booths with spun

  wool, both natural and dyed; pots, cups, and plates, each one uniquely

  decorated; bronze mirrors; perfumes; jewelry; tools; weapons; games;

  and more. He stopped occasionally to feel rough yarn or cool clay, but

  nothing kindled his internal magical sense that always led him to what

  he needed. By the time the sunlight took on the clearness of pre-dusk,

  Kron had completed his circuit but still had no answer. Even though he

  was hungry, he pushed himself to head down to the docks. If Domina

  could find a bottle of wine from his homeland, surely he could figure

  out what he needed for his artifact.

  Most of the ships had already finished unloading by the time Kron

  made his way past the taverns and brothels catering to the sailors. A

  couple of ships too large for the dock stood anchored in the harbor.

  Teams of oxen pulled barges loaded with barrels and pots up the

  Chikaski to the center of Vistichia, where they could be taken directly

  to the marketplace Kron had left. Kron watched the barges but felt no

  pull to investigate their wares. He doubted the crews would let him paw

  through their goods in search of something he couldn’t identify yet.

  He sighed. His instincts must be failing him. He should return home,

  even though he had no answers for Bella or the other Avatars. Instead,

  grim determination set him walking toward the water. Low tide had left

  1 6 6 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  a variety of natural treasures exposed on the beach. Seaweed didn’t

  seem like it would be suitable for his needs, but Kron made his way to

  a patch of it anyway. Flotsam or jetsam always produced special effects

  in his artifacts.

  He turned the seaweed over with his foot, watching for any crabs.

  They might be good to eat, but they would try to bite him in return. To

  his disappointment, no shiny coins or jewels appeared. Not even a piece

  of salt-stained wood from a wreck. All he could find were a few clam

  shells—and a type of shell he didn’t recognize.

  Kron dug the strange shell out of the sand. It was larger than his hand

  and heavier. Instead of being hinged at one end like the clam shells, this

  shell was a single piece, open in the middle and closed and twisted at

  the ends. The most intriguing feature of this shell was despite its rough

  exterior, the lip of the opening was smooth and pink.

  Bella would love this. Even before she’d become a Fall Avatar, she’d

  enjoyed examining unusual things, like his artifacts. He doubted she’d

  ever seen a shell like this one before. However, the inside of the shell

  smelled rotten, despite the saltwater. Kron took the shell down to the

  edge of the beach and scooped out the decayed flesh with a piece of

  driftwood. He rinsed the shell thoroughly in the water. As he held the

  shell up to dry, a breeze picked up. At the same time, Kron thought he

  heard something humming. He glanced around the beach, but no one

  was close by, and gulls screeching, waves lapping at the sand, and sail-

  ors yelling to their mates would have covered up such a quiet sound.

  Where is that coming from? He lowered the shell as he examined the

  water, and the humming stopped. Strange. I don’t think there’s any

  magic already in this shell...

  Kron angled the shell until it caught the breeze, and the humming

  resumed. It was as if this shell could catch sounds in the air....

  Suddenly seeing the possibilities this shell offered him, Kron

  sprinted back to the dock. As much as he wanted to show this to Bella,

  he needed to make some modifications first.

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 6 7

  * * *

  “Kron?” Bella called from the hallway. “Are you in your workroom

  again? Are you going to eat dinner tonight, or should we put the lefto-

  vers away and go to bed?”

  Kron rolled his head from side to side, trying to ease the ache in his

  neck and shoulders, and glanced at the water clock. The level was lower

  than he’d expected. With only a single shell, he couldn’t afford to ex-

  periment, so he’d had to create an artifact to help him figure out how to

  modify the shell for best results before he could begin his work. All

  he’d managed to do so far was drill a couple of holes in the shell and

  apply gold around them. Still, perhaps he should have Bella test it be-

  fore he continued.

  “Come here, dear,” he replied. “I have something for you.”

  She opened the door. “It’s late, Kron. Why don’t we wait until morn-

  ing?”

  “Just come in. All I need you to do is sing into this.”

  She wove around the piles of supplies he hadn’t had a chance to

  reorganize or move somewhere else. When he held the modified shell

  out to her, her eyebrows rose, and some of the sleepiness left her ex-

  pression. “What is this?”

  “A shell.”

  “Yes, I can see that. What did you do to it? It’s too large to wear as

  a pendant.”

  “Just sing a couple of notes into itd.” He pointed to the gold funnel

  on one end.

  She gave him an odd look, but she complied with his request. Her

  voice was as soft as if she was singing a baby to sleep, but the notes

  resounded in the shell until they sounded like shouts.

  “Kron! By All Four Gods and Goddesses, what was that?” Janno

  shouted from the room below.

  Kron grinned. “It worked!”

  1 6 8 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  “It did? You want
ed a noisemaker?” Bella stared at the shell for a

  few heartbeats before her expression cleared. “Oh! You think if I sing

  into this, I can break Salth’s house like I did Domina’s pendant?” She

  shook her head. “I don’t think this will be enough.”

  “It’s not done yet,” Kron said. He didn’t tell her he hadn’t figured

  out the next part of the artifact. He had a vague idea of stretching a chain

  or thread all the way around Salth’s house, but he wasn’t sure what ma-

  terial was most suitable.

  “Will I need to sing a special song when I use this?” Bella asked.

  “My magic isn’t related to singing.”

  “But it’s related to animals, and this came from an animal. Maybe

  that will help.”

  She ran her fingers over the shell, even reaching inside, before nod-

  ding and tucking it under her arm. “Maybe you’d think better on a full

  stomach. Come eat something before we go to bed.”

  Kron drew her against him. “Ah, but my appetite’s not for food.”

  She flushed and looked away. “I asked Galia if we’ll ever be able to

  have children.”

  Then take my suggestion, dear.

  “What did she say?” he asked when silence indicated Bella wanted

  him to respond.

  “She says I should have no issues getting a child and carrying one,

  so she wants to check you next.”

  Kron clenched Bella more tightly. “She doesn’t know about the star

  magic I carry, does she? Or that time flows a little more slowly for me?”

  “She might sense it if she examines you closely enough. Does it

  matter?” Bella swallowed. “I mean, not just for a child.”

  “I don’t know what the other Avatars will say when they find out.

  They might fear me, or think I’m more like Salth than them.”

  Bella shook her head. “You might be more like Salth in magic, but

  not in heart.” She turned her face upward to meet his. “And that’s

  what’s important.”

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 6 9

  “Actually, I don’t want to think about the other Avatars right now.”

  Kron lowered his head until his lips were a kiss away from hers. “Just

  you.”

  And for a while, that’s what he did.

  * * *

  Bella was still on Kron’s mind the next morning as he returned to

  the marketplace, trying to figure out what else he needed for his artifact.

  A light snow fell, but none of the vendors or customers complained

  about the weather. Kron wondered if the recent storms had made the

  citizens of Vistichia more appreciative of normal weather, even if it

  wasn’t sunny or warm. Then, as he approached the corner of the market

  where the goldsmiths display their wares, he heard a ship captain lean

  over and whisper to one of the merchants, “You’d best sell all your

  jewelry, or hide it somewhere no one can find it. Rumor has it there’s a

  new type magician like your Avatars, but less helpful to ordinary peo-

  ple. He claims he’s an Avatar for the God of War.”

  Kron halted. “What’s this about a God of War?”

  The captain straightened up and stared down at Kron past a long,

  thin nose that Kron impulsively wanted to pull. “Who are you?”

  “An artificer, and husband of one of Vistichia’s Avatars.”

  The goldsmith nodded. “Aye, Captain. I know him; we’ve done

  business before. He should hear what you told me.”

  The captain studied Kron for a moment before continuing, “I came

  from the east.”

  “Northeast, near Delns?”

  “No, south of there. I normally sail between Halwiz and Vistichia.”

  Kron nodded. Halwiz was one of the coastal city-kingdoms across

  the Salt Waters. He’d never been there—it was farther south than

  Delns—but he’d heard it was a good trading port for spices, cotton, and

  copper.

  1 7 0 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  “Anyway,” the captain continued, “All the copper I’d been sched-

  uled to bring here was gone. So were all iron and coal supplies. They’d

  been sent inland.”

  “Inland? Where to?”

  The captain glanced around, as if suspecting a spy from one of the

  eastern city-kingdoms had disguised himself as an ordinary Vistichian.

  “The rumors aren’t certain. Some say it’s Fip, others say it’s Kallentin.”

  Kron vaguely remembered touring Fip with his would-be-mentor-

  turned-slave-driver. Like Vistichia, it was situated on a river, but in

  Fip’s case, it was at the conjunction of two rivers, an ideal spot for trade.

  Kron hadn’t been allowed to see the famous animal collection at the

  palace, or anywhere past the smelly inn where his master had made him

  stay and create artifacts that he sold at great profit. He didn’t know an-

  ything about Kallentin. Maybe it was his own bad memories of Fip that

  made him want to portal over there and investigate who was buying all

  the metal—and why.

  He rubbed the back of his head. “You said something about an Av-

  atar for a God of War. What sort of magic does he perform?”

  “I don’t know. Some say the God and His Avatar will create a new

  type of weapon, one that causes death and destruction worse than the

  last war.”

  “I hope that’s not true,” Kron said.

  “I hope so too.” The captain nodded at the goldsmith. “Think over

  my advice and let me know if you’re ready to leave this city. We sail in

  four days.”

  The captain left, so Kron studied the goldsmith’s work. He special-

  ized in chains and finely spun strands of gold.

  “Gold’s easy to work,” the goldsmith said, “and there’s no other

  metal that stretches out as finely as gold does. And it never rusts or turns

  dark. It lasts longer than a marriage bond. Are you looking for a gift for

  your wife?” He winked. “Or another fine lady, perhaps?”

  “Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I am married, but I need gold for another

  project.” Kron studied a necklace with equal amounts of yellow, green,

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 7 1

  red and blue beads, partly to recover his composure and partly to study

  the craftsmanship. “How fine can you stretch gold until it breaks?”

  “Finer than a hair on your head, good artificer.”

  The comparison reminded Kron there was less hair on his head than

  there used to be. A pity the star magic hadn’t restored it. However, the

  goldsmith’s chains, if enhanced for strength, might be useful for Kron’s

  artifact. Unfortunately, they weren’t long enough to wrap around

  Salth’s house, but they might be useful for directing the energy of

  Bella’s singing to weak points in the structure.

  Although Kron had decided to purchase as many chains as he could

  barter for, he couldn’t help but look at the four-colored necklace again.

  “Is that a tribute to the Four Gods and Goddesses?”

  “How clever of you to notice,” the goldsmith replied. “Yes, I made

  that after watching the Four in the square when They picked Their

  priests and priestesses. One of them came by last moon-phase and tried

  to heal my hands.” He held one out so Kron could see how it t
rembled.

  He resumed working on his current project—twisting strands of metal

  together—as if his tremor was no hindrance. “I think she was more up-

  set than I was when she failed to make the shaking go away.”

  Kron hadn’t known there were limits to the Spring Avatars’ healing

  gifts. “And you still honor the Four?”

  “No one else has even tried to help me, young man. And the midwife

  did do me some good. My vision’s clearer than it’s been in years.”

  “Galia is a good healer.” Kron brushed a finger over the necklace,

  spinning the beads. “Are you planning to flee Vistichia, as the sea cap-

  tain advises?”

  The goldsmith snorted. “By the Four, no. I’ve spent my whole life

  in this city. I’m too old to travel now, no matter who flatters me.”

  Or fails to give you back your youth. “Then perhaps you could help

  me with an artifact I must make for the Four.”

  Kron explained a little what he had to do, but he didn’t tell the man

  the nature of Salth’s soul-trap or how deadly it was. “I’ll need as much

  1 7 2 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  gold wire as you can create,” he said when he was done. “Long, but not

  too thin. I don’t want it snapping at a critical time.”

  “Let me see your wares first,” the goldsmith countered.

  “I’m sold out today, but I can make something special for you if you

  want.” Kron studied the man for a few heartbeats. “I could adapt a far-

  seer for you to help you with close work.”

  “A far-seer to see things close? I had no idea you could make such

  jokes.” The man’s fingers trembled as he reached for a topaz.

  “It’s no joke. Or...” Kron studied the man’s hands. “Give me a pair

  of your thinnest gloves, and I’ll enhance them so your hands don’t shake

  so much.”

  The goldsmith’s fingers halted in the air. “Now I know you’re jok-

  ing.”

  “I’m not. If I fail, I’ll ask one of the Avatars to make you a new

  pair.” Caye had been a seamstress and weaver before the God of Winter

  had chosen her.

  “Stop by here tomorrow then, and I’ll have the gloves.”

  “Good. You won’t regret it.”

  As Kron walked off, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how

  outraged Galia would become when he helped an old man deal with his