by P. S. Power
True, it would probably just be with words and hostile glances, not fists, but still…
Also he needed to find out who was paying for it. Was he supposed to cover himself? That would be interesting to say the least. Maybe they'd let him wash dishes or do the baking to cover it? Better, maybe they needed a magical device or two? He didn't think he was supposed to cover everyone, not really, but some of the people were with him, right?
Yes, technically, Varley was in charge, being the highest ranked person there, but that didn't seem right either. Everyone else retired to various rooms to change clothing, so Tor just sat and read from the book in front of him.
To his surprise, it actually covered this very situation in decent depth, right there in chapter three.
The person inviting another was stating, by making the invitation, that they were paying for it. The “gratuity”, something Tor had only a vague concept of, was to be covered by the person (or in this case, persons) invited. Right. Well, having no money was a problem then. Would it be all right for him to leave an amulet as a gift? What would a server at a restaurant like? And did he need something for everyone that worked there? The person cooking the food of course, but there was always kitchen help and people needed to clean, right? Tor just didn't know. Well, he'd do what he could and hope it wasn't insulting. Maybe they'd cut him slack if they realized how lacking in information he was? If need be he could throw himself down and grovel. It wouldn't be fun, but the book did say it was always a good fall back, if you messed up too much.
Now all Tor needed was something to work on physically. Obviously he had nothing.
Kevin, it turned out, saved him, by asking if he could work in glass. It wasn't a problem at all, glass held fields pretty well really, if the builder or copier was good enough to use it, so he actually had something by the time they all left, just taking off on foot.
Thank goodness, because after everything he would have probably tried to refuse if they'd wanted to stick him in a carriage behind a team of four or something. Horses were fine, but carriages didn't get along with him too well, making him feel trapped and sick as they bounced along. Horrible. As was the rule when walking with royals, Tor, considerably shorter, had to almost run to keep up, but managed all right for all that. He'd had practice after all, years of it. Chasing Rolph around at school, along with his daily runs.
The restaurant was interesting enough inside, simple decor that reminded him a lot more of Tom Smith's house than the palace or even his place. His old place, he corrected, trying not to let every thought show on his face.
Tom was the mayor of Two Bends, the little farming community not needing anything with a fancier title than that. Even that was mainly just to let Tom feel good about doing a bunch of extra work for free. Judging disputes over chickens and organizing road repair, that kind of thing.
The wood inside looked like the kind found on the beach, drift wood. It was smooth and weathered, the color bleached to gray almost. In front of the tables there were odd benches, each big enough for two people. Tor hadn't gotten to any protocol about who sat where, but Holly fixed that by waving him in next to her. He slide into place carefully, which he could manage easily not being as overgrown as the others, who had to fight to negotiate things correctly. David and Petra nearly fell over backwards, because Petra moved to scoot them in while David apparently decided to move back for some reason. No one laughed, but helpful suggestions were called out. Things like “work together” and “just sit down already” came from nearby patrons, all of them sounding well meaning. Apparently this had happened before.
Often.
The food was strange, ocean fish, clams and mussels. Things Tor had never eaten before and really didn't like now that he had. At first he thought it was a joke, when giant insects where brought out on a large steaming platter for each of them, but looking around he saw that people at other tables were in fact digging in. Well, this was their place. If giant insects were dinner here, then that's what they'd eat. Trying to not look too much like a bumpkin, he covertly watched what Holly did and copied her. It seemed safest, this being her choice of eating establishments after all.
There were bibs to protect their clothing and everything.
Was that normal for fine dining?
It kind of made sense, only wealthy people would ever eat at such places and they had nice clothing to protect. He tied one into place quickly, because the thought of ruining the silk shirt he had on kind of terrified him. It belonged to a Princess after all and he didn't have the funds right now to replace it.
They didn't speak of anything consequential during the meal, just bits of small talk, the weather in various places, if County Ford would have a drought again this year, which didn't seem likely, and bits of Printer city gossip, added by their server, Jasmin, each time she came to bring them things or check on them.
She was older, about forty or so, near Kolb's age probably, though she looked older than he did. The more royal blood you had the younger you looked for your age, in general. It was true, but the idea very nearly made him laugh out loud. By that standard he'd have the most royal blood of anyone at the table. At eighteen he looked barely fourteen at the best of times.
Jasmin had a kind face that wasn't, and probably never had been, pretty. Too long for that, but she had smile lines instead of a perpetual frown and a happy enough lilt to her voice.
“Ooh. Here’s one for you then ma'am,” Jasmin addressed Holly directly. Half her age, but still the Countess Printer, due to a horrible hunting accident three years before. Oddly enough it was the same one in which Tovey's dad had died. They were chasing a deer up a loose hill and it collapsed on them, burying them alive. A horrible way to go, being buried alive. Tor had been close enough to it himself once to kind of sympathize.
“Dan Baker come in earlier and tol' us bout hows he traded with a wizard for some pies. Got himself a red magic light he claimed! We were all saying hows magic light is expensive and no how would a wizard trade one for pies. Dan's good, but they're still just pies, right? But then he just whips it out!” This caught the attention of the group next to them who'd obviously been listening in. They were a mixed group and even had several youngsters with them, all looked to be from a merchant family, by the way they were dressed. Nicely, but not so well Tor felt like he was out of place. They chuckled at what she'd said, getting a slightly strained look from Jasmin.
“Whipped out the little light I mean. Hardly big as a coin, but lit up the whole room! I was afraid for a bit that it would kill us all or something, but it was just a light. No one knows why it's red like that though. Easier to make ya think?” She smiled again and looked around the table warmly. Instead of answering her Holly leaned over and, not quietly, asked why he'd done that with an odd smile.
“Well, you know, no money. So like everyone else does when their broke, I traded what I had.”
For some reason that got a big laugh from Jasmin, and one nearly as loud from the table of eavesdroppers. At least Tor understood why they weren't talking about anything important here. The second it was said it probably would have become known throughout the whole kingdom. Well, eventually at least. Still, as long as he knew that, it was a nice enough place. Not fancy by royal standards, but the nicest restaurant he'd ever eaten in. Giant bugs or not. What he'd eaten turned his stomach a little, so he tried not to think about it.
After desert Holly passed the woman two silver coins and got a hand full of copper in return.
This was the part Tor dreaded.
It was obvious that he was the one supposed to give the tip, since he was the guest at the head of the table. By doing that Holly had named him the head of the little visiting group, at least in her mind, Princess there or not. Jasmin hovered a little, and looked around, as if wondering if she had the places right, probably since he looked so young. Reaching into the little cloth bag Tor had borrowed from Kevin, he pulled out ten of the devices he'd made. Then took a deep breath.
&n
bsp; “Um, I know they don't have sigils on them, but they activate just like a regular amulet. They're just temperature equalizers, mainly but… here, Jasmin, would you put this on?” Grinning she did it with a wink, as if he was playing with her or something.
“It's right pretty, thank you!” She said, as if she was actually admiring the disk of red colored glass. It was actually kind of pretty, he had to admit. He pointed and mimicked tapping his own chest to get her to turn it on. When she did it started to glow inside. The light shifted and moved, going from a blue color to a bright yellow which stabilized at gold. Then it just stayed that color, shifting around only a bit.
“Oh!” Trice said. “Now that's pretty! Make some up for me and Sara?” She said automatically, then remembered that they weren't engaged to be married any more it seemed. Tor just shrugged and got one out of the bag for her.
“You really are a wizard? Sir, I didn't know… laughing at you earlier, I was just…” She blushed and looked like she was going to pass out. The amulet shifted in color gold to red and then a deep, almost ugly purple. It mixed with other colors, green mostly. A bit of orange mixed in, but not nearly as much as all that.
Shrugging Tor winked at her in a big and obvious fashion, trying to put her at ease.
“You were taken in by my boyish good looks maybe? Don't worry about it. Happens all the time. One of these for each of the people that works here? They'll also keep you comfortable temperature wise. It should help in the kitchens I think.” Jasmin ran to get everyone, asking them not to leave, her amulet going nearly pure green.
Looking around, Trice put one on and activated it. When she looked around it was an almost black color which didn't match the look on her face, a sunny smile, but as she looked at Tor it changed, a pale pink shooting through it, growing stronger as she watched it, until, for a moment, it became all pink.
“Why do the colors change?” Awe in her voice she looked away from it briefly.
“They loosely follow your mood. The darker colors are darker emotions. Bright red rage, pink affection, yellow happiness, blue means you’re thinking, really the normal meanings for colors. It's just a feedback mechanism, something I'm working on for another project.” The light too. It wasn't exactly right, but if anyone bothered to look, when activated they became a half sphere of glass, in appearance, not just flat slabs. The glowing distracted from that. Now if he could just link the parts and appearance to the movements of a hand…
It was a start at least. He grinned at Trice who's amulet went back to pink and became shot with yellow just at that moment. Chuckling she looked down at it and smirked a little.
“These will sell. Even without the temperature equalizers on them. Make a few hundred of them and by this time next year the rabble will have Karina sucking you off to try and get some.” The words dropped out of her mouth so smoothly that half the table hadn't noticed what she said, but her amulet turned a dark green with a pretty blue swirl. Whatever that meant.
Tor ignored it.
At least now thanks to his recent experience and learning he knew what she meant by that. The sucking off part at least. The “rabble” meant nothing to him. Street people? Varley grinned and asked if there were any spares. He handed them out, finding it interesting who took one and who didn't. The restaurant people all took one and made happy sounds, like it was better than gold to them, which was kind. Most of them were happy about it, he saw, bright yellow being the most popular color. Some green crept in. Was that people wondering if they'd get money too? He hoped not, because this was all he had for them. Varley's was nearly pure blue, a bright color that Tor had expected to be there. She was wickedly smart, she even felt intelligent when he'd tried to sense her field. That's basically all this did, respond to a small portion of a person’s field and change colors.
Easy really once he'd thought about it.
As they walked back Holly stared at him for a long time, finally taking his arm, a little awkwardly since he was pretty short and she was taller than Petra, who was six-foot-six or so.
“I'm sorry I took your things without asking. I can tell it's made problems for you, things I hadn't thought of at all, and now you’re giving away things worth hundreds, maybe thousands of golds just to keep things flowing correctly, because of my… error. I'll make it right. I promise.” She looked down at her feet, but kept walking.
How she planned to make it right he didn't know, his head was still a little stuffed feeling and it was a little hot still, even though it was dark out. Tor wanted to hit himself in the head, but just put on one of the new amulets instead. Duh. Heat equalizing field right there, if he wasn't too stupid to use it. A wave of coolness slipped over him then. That was much better. He didn't bother looking down at the light, since it was pretty obvious to him what it would be. Petra, who had a pink and yellow glow between her breasts flowed over and pointed though.
“Um, what does black mean Tor? Death? I'm pretty sure you're still alive… Or doesn't it work on you? A little unfair if that’s the case,” she said, yellow and gold suddenly taking over the center of her piece of glass.
Looking at the large girl Trice shook her head, amulet mainly black too, but Petra didn't take the hint and kept asking. Finally it was Kolb that told her to stop, a smile on his face, his voice easy, but still firm enough that the girls eyes went wide.
“Um, yes sir.” She answered, years of practice making the response nearly instant, but she was also an adult, so she didn't have to simply obey, did she?
“But… what does it mean?”
David Derring grunted and looked around at her, then at the ground as he walked.
“Easy enough Pet. Black means despair. Everyone knows that.”
Chapter six
The nightmare left Tor shaking and covered with sweat, laying in the dark and panting slightly. It involved a group of people, all giants, so probably royals, standing around and laughing at him as he went to dinner naked. In the dream he tried to play it off, claiming it was first just a new style, and later that all his clothes were in the wash.
No one bought it.
In fact they said it was just because he didn't have clothes. He did, they'd just all been stolen. By the King. As the meal progress he realized that they were eating peasants baked into pies and laughing about how they'd have been tastier if they were still alive. Trice and Holly took turns pointing at his groin and… snickering. They didn't even say anything, they just giggled.
It was horrible.
If it had been about anything else, as vivid as it had seemed, he'd have wondered if it was prescient. As it was he figured that it was just about his own fears and issues. Tor felt stripped of everything, which was ridiculous, since he kept trying to tell himself that objects and belongings weren't important. The rest made sense. After all, Trice had virtually done that do him once, in public. Not literally, but close enough that he kind of didn't trust her any more. The King made her say mean things about him, but she'd picked the topics she did because she knew people would believe them, hadn’t she?
What Holly was doing, that baffled him, but probably had to do with whatever she'd meant by making it up to him. If it wasn't just words he'd be surprised and kind of suspected the worst from her in regards to his stuff now.
Because, clearly, the best way to make it up to him would be giving his things back. Even if she kept the devices.
He couldn't get back to sleep, of course. So decided to get up and work on something. He'd been pretty lazy lately, not doing as much as he was used to at all in the last few days. Mentally he figured out what would be needed for Trice’s new arm and that led to him coming up with a totally different idea that was slightly linked.
The idea tickled him, being kind of “close to home” at the moment, so he padded out barefoot to the shed behind the kitchen and used one of the little red lights to snag a few more of the smaller glass disks. These were even tinier than the ones from the day before, but that was fine, the size didn't matter at
all, it was just a way to hold the field in place and keep from losing things in the wash. It was a big and novel field, but he didn't intend to work on it for a week or anything this time. Tor couldn't afford that any more.
Instead he spent closer to two days on it. That was his guess at least. People gave him food and water, and since he lived, it probably wasn't poisoned. When he opened his eyes it was still dark out, but that could have meant it was late or very early, there was no real way to tell without a clock.
Then Tor slept, since his chests weren't in the room with him or anything. God… Had they lost them? That could happen, no one dealing with it would have any reason to keep his things around, would they? Amulets and stuff, sure, they'd keep that, but his old workout clothes? Soap? He blew raspberries and slept for a while longer waking up when a knock came on the door. It was a soft and polite thing, meant only to wake him, if he was getting up. At least no one was there when he opened it to see.
Tor thought he was back at home for a while, his hut at Wildlands Station. Of course that wasn't the case at all. This was Printer, he reminded himself forcefully. He stretched, hoping that he could finish making the first ten copies of the new field before breakfast, he wouldn't need hundreds after all, though the little template might eventually be useful to someone else too, so Tor wanted to have it as more than a one up.
When he finally came out of the room, bathed and cleaned, Torrance dressed in the same clothing, it being all he had. The water had been cold, because Holly either had all the hot water templates hidden away or had sent them to the training base along with his toothbrush. That at least she apparently wanted to make good on, since there was a basket in his bathing chamber with a toothbrush and toothpaste, though in a strange cinnamon flavor instead of the normal anise, a burning sensation filled his mouth instead of the licorice flavor and slight numbing he was used to. It was certainly lively.
