Young Warriors (Wine of the Gods Book 10)

by Pam Uphoff

  I need to advance—learn to channel—so I can handle more power.

  Once the King and Queen had opened the dancing, Rufi led her out to the dance floor. Then Xen took her for one spin around, adding her own movement to the music's rhythm and she was nearly glowing with power. Xen led her out onto the terrace to disburse the energy into the stone railing as the next song took up with a different tempo. Lord Asti joined them.

  "Maybe you can balance the power, with one song building it up and the next tearing it down?" Lord Asti was apparently a student of just about everything the University offered, and very interested in magic, from a scientific point of view. "The out-of-sync wavelengths ought to interfere."

  "They do, out there. Inside me, the power tends to build up, and just as I get good at shunting it away, the tempo changes and I have to adjust, gaining power all the time."

  A batch of Xen's friends took turns with her, dancing and then leading her out, although Lord Keith dismissed the magical excuse and figured she wanted to make out.

  She disabused him of the notion a bit sharply and he took himself off in offense.

  Drat. Why did the only man to get fresh with me have to be an utter toad? Powerless and flat to boot.

  She surveyed the room and spotted the Karista Bay witches, all back into their beautiful gowns, and no one the wiser about the very large number of babies they'd produced since the last winter season. Well, all but one; Lady Azure had remained at her family's 'country property' to be near her husband, and was said to be expecting a baby. Could she pull it off? Maybe the witches really could fit themselves into this society, by the simple expedient of a few illusions.

  A tall man danced by with Heliotrope. He reminded her of . . . Romeau, Uncle Charlie and Lord Hell. The tall thin sort of god, as opposed to her father, who was not quite as tall but much more muscular. They stepped out to a balcony for a moment. Must have been a heck of a kiss. The witch was nearly staggering when she rushed back in. Quicksilver casually wandered that direction, looking around at all the pretty dresses.

  "Quicksilver? Oh, thank god for a familiar face." Heliotrope practically fell into her arms. "I need my Dad, right now."

  Quicksilver cast a look around. The man Heliotrope had been with glared at her, stalking towards them, and Lord Hell was across the dance floor from them. Quicksilver looked around and spotted Lord Asti, and grabbed him quickly. "Do you see Lord Hell over there? Dance this young lady over to him immediately. Right across the dance floor. Hurry!"

  Quicksilver turned and looked for that man. He'd turned away and was working his way toward the nearest outside door. Lord Hell appeared suddenly at her elbow. "This man that was with Heliotrope?"

  "The tall one with the dark brown hair, making for the exit." She pointed as air swirled to fill an empty space.

  A man in uniform wedged his way through the crowd to her. "Excuse me Miss? Could you tell me what just happened? I'm Colonel Janic of the King's Own."

  "A man, very tall, dark brown hair just did something unacceptable, and possibly magical to one of Lord Hell's daughters." She bit a knuckle. "Just Deserts may be a bit nasty and, umm, direct tonight."

  Xen wedged his way through the crowd. "What happened? The whole Karista Bay Pyramid is shielded and Trump is glowing like a volcano and looks twice as dangerous."

  Colonel Janic answered. "I think your God of Art just trespassed on the God of Just Desert's territory. Any recommendations, Lieutenant?"

  "Hope real hard they keep it outside?" Xen headed for the same door. "Shield?"

  "I'll call Dad." Quicksilver edged that direction.

  She found herself in the middle of rather a lot of uniformed bodies. God of Art? Right. He was freed from his overshielded museum, refused to help with the comet diversion . . . and went away. She side-stepped out of the crowd, found enough empty space for, well, she didn't need the full on God of War. :: Dad! I think you'd better come. Hell and Art are about to mix it up in public. ::

  A slight stir of air. Her dad looked around, over the head of most of the crowd. "Damn!" He disappeared.

  Quicksilver wiggled back through the crowd. She caught a glimpse of the God of Art and Lord Hell circling each other like dogs about to fight. She got between the gods and the palace and started calling up a physical shield. And thought better of it. There are too many people here!

  "I want to know what you were attempting to do to my daughter." Hell's voice shook with anger. Fire flickered and brightened in his left hand. The shadows prowling around the outside of the confrontation were real dogs. Four of them. They didn't look like naughty hounds anymore. They looked rabid, and they were focused on the God of Art.

  Art sniffed. "I was simply showing her some sophisticated techniques."

  "Similar to the ones you showed Lady Cio?" Xen asked from the side. "How much time did Cio experience, inside your bubble?"

  "A year." Art shrugged. "Had to get the cow back in shape before we returned her, after all."

  A shimmering glow of barely restrained magic from Hell. "And Heliotrope? Were you going to breed a child on her too, or just rape her?"

  "She wanted it, witches always want it."

  Hell threw the fireball. Art waved a hand and deflected it. Quicksilver raised her arms, hands flat and angled. I think an energy shield is a good idea! A quick volley of fireballs flew both directions and were deflected all directions. Two came toward the palace. Sparks limned the plane of her shield, crackled around her hands. The fireballs bounced. She shunted energy, kicking off her shoes so she was in direct contact with the ground.

  Quicksilver braced herself to resist moving as the crowd backed hastily away from a fight very unlike the duel they'd expected. She didn't want to leave with them. She spotted Xen off to her right, swatting down a fireball heading toward the street.

  Insubstantial somethings were flying between the men. Spells. Were they bouncing and ricocheting like the fireballs? I need to advance! Her shield against mental spells wasn't very strong, she'd never had to hold it over such a large area . . .

  Swords were pulled from nowhere and clashed. Quicksilver could suddenly see why spell casting was a left-handed action. While the swords circled and then touched, spells were still flying back and forth. Lord Hell's feet lost purchase with the ground and he floated for a moment before a volley of fireballs pulled Art's attention to one side. Hell dropped to the ground.

  "Damn it, Wolf, he's mine!"

  "Tsk! Fighting fair is what you do with honorable people, not nasty little rapists with an interesting horde of power sources. Is that what you wanted the witch girl for, Art? To added her to your collection?"

  Quicksilver could see the Auld Wulf now, prowling around something that wasn't quite there—a dimensional bubble. And then he made a ripping motion and a half dozen statues of women tumbled to the ground.

  "No one I recognize. Untrained, undiscovered witches I take it?"

  "They're mine." The God of Art dodged in an unexpected direction. Sparks flew as he reached through Quicksilver's energy barrier and grabbed her.

  She went with him, past him, grabbing back and using her momentum and the leverage of his arm to throw him over her hip. He flashed a bit as he hit the ground. The shield that would have protected him from slashes and stabs was of little use as his momentum encountered the ground. He grunted in pain, tried to rise. But managed to hold the shield.

  Four dogs piled in, teeth sliding across the shiny surface. He softened the shield over his left hand and threw a fireball. One dog yelped and rolled off the pile.

  The next fireball hit Quicksilver.

  She absorbed it, shunted the energy. It wasn't enough. She pushed the burning power away, held it separate from herself, fed it into the ground. Heaved a breath of relief . . . Art shoved the dogs away, sat up and readied another fireball. Quicksilver grabbed his arm, reached mentally to pull that energy from him. Directed it around herself and it into the Earth. And pulled more. Alien energy, not his . . . He paled and
slowed, slumped. He made a fireball throwing gesture, but a bare glow answered his will.

  "Miss, we'd like him to answer some questions, before you kill him." An officer hovered, not touching either of them, or the three dogs still looking for a weak spot in the shield.

  "Certainly," Quicksilver raised her head. "Dad? I think he's still draining the witches, can you move them further away?"

  "I've got him mostly blocked . . . ah, here's what we need."

  Witches in groups of three popped out of nowhere. Answer stepped forward and stood between the god and the statues.

  The dogs backed away as Hell stepped forward. Quicksilver could feel . . . was he matching the frequency of the shield with another spell? The shiny covering disappeared like a popped bubble, and the dogs whined as they crouched and salivated.

  Quicksilver let go of Art's arm, stood and staggered back from the gods. She was starting to feel . . . singed.

  Xen stepped forward. "What are you planning on doing with Lady Eden? Where is she right now?"

  The god twisted slightly on the ground, and Quicksilver could see darting spells wrapping themselves around him. Compulsions. She analyzed them . . . Truth, Brag, Reduced Inhibitions. Ooo, I didn't know Xen knew those.

  "She's eloping with Rebo. The Council will have to accept her as the First Marriage. Then she'll have twin boys. Between her hold on Rebo, and my grandsons, I'll have control of the country for two generations. If it weren't for this damned collective subconscious I could do something more direct, but the people are quite convinced that the second son is king and they know all the sons, know the legitimate ones."

  "Why the financial help for Lord Rally?"

  "Stupid puppy will back me up. Kill his Father and he'll inherit a great deal of political power. Allow him to divorce that silly fluff and marry his witch and he'll be mine, heart and soul."

  "What do you know about his witch?"

  "Some odd sourcing genes, damn good training, but she hasn't got a political power structure to apply it through. I'll have to eliminate her fairly soon, before she develops something through Faloni."

  The Auld Wulf shifted in the shadows. "Where is your gallery?"

  "At home, where else?"

  "What is the key?"

  "A true appreciation of Art." He laughed despite the compulsions around him. "You'll never get in."

  "Are your friends still stuck there? Do you care?"

  "Not a bit." The contempt oozed out of his mouth. He twisted against his bonds, concentrated, strained . . .

  Disappeared.

  The two gods straightened and looked over at the collection of officers. General Rufi Negue stepped forward. "For what he has said here, deliberate interference with the Crown heir and the line of succession, his life is forfeit. Do you want him to live?"

  "No." The Wolf looked at Hell.

  The other god shook his head. "No. He's merely very old, nothing deserving of respect."

  The Auld Wulf eyed Rufi. "If we can find him, we'll try to kill him. I . . . recommend that if you find him, you call me."

  Lord Hell had already turned away, and was picking up the whimpering black dog.

  The witches relaxed, and turned their attention to the statues.

  "I'd recommend taking them to Ash." The Auld Wulf said. "Then I'll start freeing them. May I provide transport?"

  "Yes, thank you, Wolf." Answer looked back at Quicksilver. "I think you'd better come with us dear."

  Quicksilver got up shakily, and Rustle jumped to support her. When did Mom get here?

  The World changed suddenly. They were standing in front of a marble wall. Quicksilver stepped through the corridor to Ash. Her head whirled, the world spun and twisted. . . she blinked in astonishment at the tubes running everywhere. And that one! Huge, powerful, going down, down, down . . .

  "Quicksilver? Are you all right?"

  "No. I didn't shunt that fireball fast enough." Into a sea of fizzing electric blue. Bubbles everywhere. It was a gate, the gate to Ash World. She followed it down . . . to a node in a lattice of a huge almost regular . . . web . . . or water with a pattern of ripples or . . . Over there. A feeling of home, of belonging, but it was so faint, so old. . .

  Her mother and grandmother were suddenly there beside her.

  Her mother put a hand on Quicksilver's head. Shook her head. "I can't tell how badly she's been hurt."

  "There it is, right there." She felt a little breathless, and went to one knee.

  Lady Gisele's gaze superimposed itself over the vision. Barely.

  "Look Mom. It's Earth. Right there." She pointed. "It's where we came from, a long time ago, there's still a wisp of Home to it . . . "

  "Hmm, drink this, dear." Lady Gisele produced a glass vial from nowhere. "That's not the best way to learn how to channel. Go lay down, no magic at all for a week. I think you'll be fine, this is not unlike heat stroke."

  "Can you see it, Mom? Like a big crystal." She pulled back, trying to pay attention, to drink the potion . . . "Look at that! A whole city inside a bubble. It's so close! We ought to go find it . . . "

  Lady Gisele sighed and put a hand on Quicksilver's head. She blinked sleepily and slumped.

  "There. That's better. If she'll let her mind stay quiet, I suspect she'll be doing a great deal of sleeping for the next few weeks."

  Sleep. Good idea.

  ***

  Trump forced a dose of wine down the black bitch's throat while Hell held her muzzle. Injured dogs weren't known for their tolerance of handling.

  "I've put Heliotrope to bed. That miserable excuse for a god had a reverse time bubble, everything went faster inside. She felt like she was there several days. He charmed her so she'd have sex with him, and then he started using her for power storage, but that backfired on him, she used the power to break the shield she was in, grabbed her clothes and left.

  "She's pretty shocked that she walked right back into the Ball. Says she's damned glad she took the time to get dressed." Trump could hear the fury in her own voice and got a grip on herself. "I trust you killed him?"

  "Not yet. We've got to find him, first. I'd probably better go fetch the other dogs before they attack anyone else."

  The black bitch was wagging her tail now and squirming to be released, so he did. He disappeared, and Trump eyed the black dog.

  "You listen up, now. Hell's always kept you from coming into season, but this wine can overcome anything. And I want puppies, because all these children and grandchildren need protection. Pure Hell Hound, none of those half poodles people are paying a premium for in town. So. What's your preference? Red or Motley? Red? Excellent. Go outside. I'll send him in a minute."

  The bitch trotted off, and Trump walked back to check on Heliotrope. Sandy was sitting up reading beside her bed.

  "She keeps whimpering. Doesn't want the light out."

  "I think I'll let a couple of the Hell Hounds sleep in here tonight." Trump told her. "Hell will kill that pervert. I just hope the charms he put on her haven't left any fondness behind."

  Heliotrope's eyes opened a crack. "He didn't care. He was the strongest god I've ever felt. And he didn't care about me."

  "Oh dear. Sweetie, no." She knelt beside the bed and pulled the girl into a hug. "Hell says Art is a nasty, cold hearted . . . "

  "Not him!" Tears were flowing, now. "Xen. It didn't matter to him who that man attacked. I didn't matter."

  "Oh." Trump blinked back sudden tears of her own. "Oh, dear. Oh, sweetie. You can't . . . wish someone into loving you. It just . . . happens. One day you'll be dancing with someone, or talking . . . and you'll look up and see the adoration in his eyes. And the most frightening thing in the world, is having to honestly look into your own heart and see if you return that love." She hugged her daughter harder. And cried with her, and held her until she slept.

  She heard Hell and marched back to the kitchen in time to order Red outside and the other two dogs to come with her, and walked back to Heliotrope's room. Heliotr
ope woke long enough to hug and pet the dogs, then fell asleep again.

  "She'll be fine. She's not as tough and mean as I am, but she's tough enough." Pity I won't be the one who gets the opportunity to kill Art. I think I'd enjoy it, and I shudder to think of the just deserts I'd get. And I'd ream Xen . . . except I know damn well it's all in her head. Did she call him a god? Fat chance! Silly girl. Beats trauma over being raped though. Maybe.

  Hell was pensive as he led her away. "I somehow thought what gods did was different than ordinary human evil. Which is silly. We're still human, however powerful. And we can be hideously evil."

  Trump sniffed. "You aren't evil. I'll bet you've never raped anyone."

  "No, the dogs hump anyone who deserves it. My horrible subconscious . . . except for you."

  "That wasn't rape. I thought you knew me better than that." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I hope you don't feel horribly guilty and give yourself some just deserts. I shudder to imagine what you'd come up with."

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Fall 1391

  Karista, Kingdom of the West

  Flashes of light, the clash of swords. Damn being short. In this crowd Garit was one of the few under six foot tall, and he couldn't see anything.

  One of the guards, Easterly, was swapping looks from the action out there to visually sweep the closer area.

  "What's going on out there?"

  Easterly was among the tallest of the crowd, with an entirely false appearance of being about as smart as the average cow. "A magic duel."

  The metallic screeds ceased, along with the odd lights.

  "Is it over?"

  "Yeah." Easterly's brow wrinkled. "One guy's on the ground. I think some young woman did something to him. The way General Rufi and Colonel Janic are looking at him, the good guy won." Unfortunately Easterly edged him away, not toward. "I need to report to Captain Bricker."

  Garit let himself be edged. Habit and common sense, damn it.

  Most of the royals were already gone. The rest fading back quickly.

  Garit stayed close enough to catch the words of the private who reported next.