Comet Fall (Wine of the Gods)

by Pam Uphoff

  "Come in," she said automatically, surprised. "Like some goose?"

  "I would love some goose," he folded down comfortably, flexible for all his size and bulk of muscle.

  She studied him for a long moment. If she hadn't known him, she'd have guessed him to be in his mid-thirties. Maybe younger. The gray streaks in the short brown hair looked premature against the smooth tan face. "You look good, I was starting to get a bit worried."

  "Because I slept for over a year?" He studied her. "And I'm worried about you. I heard about what happened. And Gisele said . . . "

  "I'm sorry. You weren't in any shape to agree or disagree to anything so important. I used you. I needed . . . " She shook her head and tried to order her thoughts. "I needed to make the worst part not happen. To not bear a baby I would resent, and possibly hate." She watched him, worried. He had every right to hate how she'd used him.

  "Hate? Hardly."

  She snorted. Must watch my thoughts!

  His lips quirked at that as he stared into the fire, red reflections from his eyes. "I had a dream. Actually rather a lot of them. I don't know which were real and which were not. You took a risk, with me so . . . out of touch. I don't know what I've done."

  "You didn't hurt me. I, umm, it was a very pleasurable experience. Even my memory of those men is surprisingly faint. When I think of men, I think of you. But I am very sorry to have transgressed on you, to minimize my own problem."

  "Are you all right, Rustle?"

  "I'm not ready to be a mother, for all I was tired of being treated like a child. I don't like not having been allowed to make that choice myself. I am a bit horrified by my situation, but I don't hate the baby. I can see how that would have been very easy to do, especially if she looked like one of them. That much I have managed to snatch, that however unready for her, I won't hate my baby."

  He glanced around the fire lit trees. "You are accustomed to freedom."

  She stared out into the night. "Yes, it's the loss of freedom that unsettles me the most. That for the sake of my child I must yoke myself to . . . I suppose it's just adulthood. Something we all must face, eventually."

  "Rustle, you've always been responsible, reliable, and yet controlled by no one except yourself. When the baby makes you feel that you are losing that precious self, bring her to me, for as long as you need, even if that is forever. Don't let the best in yourself be ground down."

  She blinked away tears, that he understood so well what she feared. She concentrated on carving a rather tough goose.

  "In many ways, an early start on my advancement is good," she opined after a rather greasy interval. "I'll be out of the Crescent Moons and off by myself learning new things. I can already do so many things I couldn't grasp at all, last year."

  He relaxed against a tree, "You've always been academically talented, and your subconscious magic use drove your parents crazy. One more step and you'll most likely be traveling and building like your parents."

  "Umm, but they can only do it together."

  "Ha! Lazy. Your mother could learn to recognize locations, but she lets Dydit do it. He gets plenty of power from various sources, but it's so easy to let the witch collect it, balance it out, and push and pull as needed." The Auld Wulf snorted. "Bet you shock the hell out of them. The whole Pyramid, for that matter."

  "I'm good at magically recognizing people, individuals. Hmm, I never really considered locations." She flashed a grin at him. "I'll certainly try."

  "Start with hot springs. They're the easiest." He jumped to his feet suddenly. "Damn those stupid Auralians." For a moment, in the moonlight he seemed to be wearing not his usual buckskin trousers and hairy wolf vest, but silver chain mail and black plate, and a moon shadow in the shape of an enormous horse loomed. Then it all disappeared, taking the man with it.

  "So, somebody prayed to the God of War, did they?" She surveyed the empty night. "Huh. My turn to worry." Silly to worry about the God of War. She turned her mind away from the thought. "Traveling and building. I could travel? I could go explore the Old World all by myself. I could go everywhere, and learn everything." He's fine, damn it. "Hmm. Recognize locations."

  Rustle leaned back and closed her eyes. This was a regular camping spot of hers, a little hill above Black Sand Lake. No brush, big trees, silence and solitude. She could feel the power flows, deep and sluggish, dim. "Definitely need to try the hot springs."

  "Definitely going to surprise the Elder Sisters," the Auld Wulf's voice was warm, but with a bit of a gleeful note under it. The black horse shifted and snorted, barely sweaty. The god's sword was clean.

  She slanted a grin up at him and rose. "Not much problem with the Auralians?"

  "A small group of bandits attacked some miners that know to call on me, and there were also Travelers on the road that called on Harry. Harry was pissed; I hardly needed to show up. They ran at the first sign of serious resistance." The sword disappeared with a twist of his hand, and he swung off the big horse, the armor vanished. The horse disappeared last, and there was just her old hero standing there.

  Rustle shook her head. "Is it hard to be a god? Do you have to come whenever someone calls? What if there are two fights?"

  "Depends on how much magic the caller possesses, and the degree of his control. This fellow is a wizard, or would have been one if he'd been castrated and all that mess. Even so, he's strong, and works very well instinctively. I really can't ignore him. If I were stupid enough to have a Church, he'd be the Archpriest. Rufi's pretty loud too, but he hasn't got the wizard or witch genes, just a whole lot of the rest of them. Most people I don't hear at all, which is a good thing for my sanity."

  She nodded thoughtfully, touched her belly. "What about our child?"

  "I doubt she'll be as sensitive as we old gods are. Whatever happened to us . . . I think we were injured, then we absorbed a lot of expectations from the people around us. I wish I remembered more."

  She smiled. "Me too."

  He chuckled. "Scholar. If you find anything out, tell me, eh? The children of gods seem to grow a bit slowly. Don't expect our daughter to be as early and precocious as you were."

  "Maybe she'll even it all out and be normal."

  He ran a finger over her cheekbone. "Rustle . . . I'm so old. So full of half forgotten memories . . . " He broke off and stooped to kiss her, gently, as he faded out.

  "Just like his horse." She touched her cheekbone. Her belly. Be like your father, my little girl. Or just be yourself. She took a deep breath, exhaled. You are not a trap, just a baby. I won't let myself be yoked, limited. You will bring me to the next stage of my powers, a gift of your birth. I will love you for that, I will love you for your father, and hopefully I will love you for yourself.

  She stayed out another week, just to show that she was as self sufficient as ever, and returned home happier and more relaxed than she'd been all year.

  As the days lengthened, the witches left the village for the mountains. For the mountain.

  The peak of Mount Frost was a sharp pyramid on the south side of the rim of the quiescent volcanic crater.

  A very full pyramid on this Summer Solstice.

  Rustle was still down with the rest of the Crescent Moons, three full triads, each on its own face of the pyramid.

  Below her, sixteen teenagers crowded around the base of the spire. They were past puberty, but had not yet grasped power. Sisters of the New Moon, they were called. Some of them were a bit old to still be here.

  Above her, Mostly and Likely occupied the level of the Half Moon. Their oldest daughters still hoped for power, this last summer of their eligibility. The gap in time between generations had left a gap in the pyramid, but the Half Moon Triad would be filled as soon as she gave birth. Unless Mostly and Likely advanced, in the mean time. It would be very full once the older Crescent Moons were ready for parenthood. Perhaps they should allow some early advancements, and retard others so this gap didn't repeat. Allow? Rustle rejected the idea of outside control. We
should all choose for ourselves.

  Witches, some a decade younger than Mostly and Likely had advanced to the Full Moon. Opinion, Particular, Catti and Zamm stood on the next tier up. Their fourteen year old daughters had all grasped power in the spring. Rustle's mother was up there, too.

  Women advanced when they held their granddaughters.

  The next level up held a Triad and a pair of Waning Half Moons. Never's skills would jump when she held her granddaughter, so they would soon have two full triads there.

  The peak of the pyramid held a full triad of the Dark Crescent, and two extra witches.

  We could very nearly split into two separate Pyramids. Rustle thought.

  Sunset fell, and silence held expectantly. Then the Dark Crescent broke into song as the first gleam of the Full Moon peeked through the valley to the east. Furious changed her chant to that of the newly paused, and then Rustle started the song of the expectant mother, and touched her stomach as the joy in the song resonated with the slowly growing joy in her heart.

  Suddenly from below, a few sparks and glints, and Swish held up a ball of light. She fumbled her way into the Song of Power, and as Ultra and Verse waved their hands and gathered the power together, they joined her.

  The entire pyramid joined in the Song of Welcome. Rustle's eyes sought out Ask, who gazed woefully at empty hands. She was not alone. Seven of the powerless girls were sixteen. This would be their last Solstice Celebration as Sisters of the Moon.

  So it was with very mixed feelings that the group walked back to Ash. By the time they arrived, the tears had dried, and the girls started to plan for new futures. Futures that held no magic at all.

  ***

  Tromp felt wonderful. Powerful. With Rustle knocked up and on her way to being a Half Moon, and all the older new comers, the Elders had rearranged the Triads of the Crescent Moon. And she was back with her old chums.

  Zenith and Cost swapped grins. "The new girls will be getting that first lecture. It'll be fun watching the expressions on their faces when Answer tells them all about how sex and reproduction and magic all go together."

  Tromp snorted, "Oh, most of them already know. Their mothers will have said something." To make them toe the Elder Sister's line. Damn that Rustle, I am going to be below her for years.

  They all went up to the hot springs and relaxed in the hot mineralized water while the old crone talked. The expressions were indeed good, and Tromp made some soft suggestions for lessons to her Triad.

  "Tromp, Zenith and Cost." Answer pinned them with a chilly eye. "You do not appear to be paying attention."

  "We've heard it before," Cost grumbled under her breath. Answer's eyes narrowed.

  Zenith interjected more loudly, "We were discussing possible learning methods, Elder Sister."

  "And what might those be, younger sister?"

  Zenith's eyes swung toward Tromp in panic, "Well, we thought we ought to study a live specimen . . . " she gulped and trailed off.

  Answer frowned at Tromp. "And as leader of your Triad, how did you plan to manage that without possible unfortunate repercussions?"

  Tromp, at a loss, blurted out the truth, "Well, we figured if we used Havi the Eunuch . . . "

  "Enough." Answer glared. "You are clearly too immature for motherhood. I think perhaps we had better review your lessons and practices up to this point. If we have missed so widely at teaching you tolerance and kindness, we've probably also failed at the academics. I'll speak with you here. Day after tomorrow. Noon. Now go. You are dismissed."

  She turned back to the rest of the class. "We witches use sex. And sometimes we use men. But there is a difference between using and abusing that we must be aware of. We are very powerful people, and we can transgress very easily."

  Tromp didn't hear the rest as she stalked out of hearing range. "Immature! She called me immature."

  "Review. Damn it. Maybe we ought to go study Havi Have-Not." Zenith sounded pissed too.

  "I don't think that is what we'll have to review." Cost said.

  "And we're in enough trouble as it is." Tromp admitted.

  The main sheep herd was spread out over the hill, some of them blocked the path. The stupid animals didn't improve any of their moods. Tromp kicked one especially slow ewe.

  "Hey, stupid animals shouldn't kick."

  "Be kicked, you moron." Tromp spotted the goatherd. One of them, the Goat Boys. Yeah, it was Havi the Eunuch.

  "Yeah, that too."

  She turned toward him, but two more of them popped up out of the grass. "You goat boys sure do seem to spend a lot of time with these sheep. When's the wedding?"

  They all laughed, and gave a group "Maaaaah!"

  Tromp stalked away. She'd get them back. But not right now.

  ***

  Rustle rubbed her tummy and felt a smile spread across her face.

  "You look so happy. It's just weird, for awhile there it was like something horrible had happened to you. Now you're practically glowing." Ask trailed her silently for a few minutes. "I won't go to Karista."

  "My grandfather . . . If Happy asked . . . "

  "I will not be dependent," Ask frowned unhappily down at her hands. "Ash isn't really any better than the City. Here I'm a powerless no-body, there I'd be a bastard upstart, not that I don't appreciate that your grandfather could help. But while it would be a change, it doesn't look like an improvement."

  Rustle hugged her. "Bah. You only lack some sorts of power. You need to get busy doing something beside trailing around after witches. I love your weaving, and you have you own loom. And you've always been the best with dyes. Maybe you should get some sheep all your own."

  "Optimist. What if the sheep all die?"

  "Pessimist. I bet your sheep would have the best wool in the valley. In fact I know how to make sure of that."

  "I don't think the Sheep Man will sell that ram."

  Rustle snickered. "Umm, no, I suppose not. But I do know the, umm, genetics that give him that incredible coat."

  "Not if it comes with the personality. Honestly Rustle, if you told me that ram was half wolf I'd probably believe you."

  Rustle bit her lip. "No, he's not half wolf."

  "Anyway, all of us former witches are going to move into the Mayor's house. It's been empty for years. And I'm going to talk to Havi. There's nothing here for the goat boys either. They've been talking about a land grant in the New Lands. Maybe they need someone with a spinning wheel and loom."

  Chapter Seven

  1369 Fall Equinox

  Ash

  "Twins," Xanthic insisted. "I'll bet you have twins like us."

  "And we're up to 'X' in the alphabet so your babies will be Xenotine and Yodarite." Young informed her.

  "Nope," Rustle winced as the wagon jolted over a pothole. "I refuse to have twins. You two can do that."

  Xanthic steered the team into the clearing in front of the house. "We're jealous, we wanted those letters."

  "One. I refuse to have babies two at a time."

  "Ha!" Never swooped down from the other side as Rustle climbed out of the wagon. "A bit late to change that, one way or the other, daughter. The way you look, I think you won't make it back to the hot springs for the Equinox Council."

  "Now there I think you are right." Rustle waddled to the house. She waved as the twins turned the wagon and headed down the hill. Her visit to the Wizards' Tower had been fun, but she was glad Justice had insisted she accept a ride back home.

  I can barely walk now. Hip ligaments loosening up for delivery? She shivered, half scared, half anticipating.

  The first contraction rippled across her womb at the front door, and she could see the stretched muscles. Those muscles would gradually pull the mouth of her womb wide open for the baby, and now that her mind was focused, she could see her child, tucked in tight, still asleep. Head down, everything ready. She took a couple of deep breaths and walked on in the house.

  "Was that what I think it was?" Never asked.

 
; "Yep. If I'd visited just a bit longer, I'd have been bringing your granddaughter home in arms." Rustle paced and stopped as the rippling muscles tugged. Interesting. She could see what was happening. What had the Half Moons said, increased bodily awareness? No kidding.

  Obsidian and Topaz scampered in with the birthing stool and absorbent cloths.

  "How does it feel?" "Does it hurt?" her sisters surrounded her and hugged her, and she could feel their natural, instinctive, abilities swirling around, looking for a way to help. Nine years old and four years old, eager almost-aunts.

  "Doesn't hurt yet, just sort of uncomfortable, like stretching a tight muscle," she reassured them, and broke loose to pace. "You guys know the lessons as well as I do . . . well maybe not, I've been reading over them again. It'll be hours before anything really interesting happens." She settled down in the rocking chair, and closed her eyes. Rocked a bit. "I can already feel some new abilities. It's like I can see inside myself, see what's happening." She let her tiredness wrap her up in sleep for a moment. The contractions were still mild enough to barely wake her, so she got in a good nap.

  Her father and brother peeked in occasionally, before fleeing to the suitable masculine occupation of pacing.

  She sipped fruit juice, and paced, and her water broke at midnight, and she pushed her baby out three hours later.

  Xenotine wailed lustily, a healthy sound in contrast to her sisters' appalled silence.

  Never was just as appalled, but not silent. "What Answer is going to say! Honestly, Rustle! It's a . . . a boy!"

  Rustle thought about denying responsibility, but looking down at the tiny armful, decide she should take credit instead. "Well." She cuddled the baby. "Isn't he beautiful?"

  ***

  By the time Rustle was up and about, the witches had recovered from the shock. And all the elders had stopped by to glower at the baby. Despite the early winter storms. Ask came, sensibly in between storms, and told her all the gossip.

  "Tromp and the Black Triad are being nasty. Nastier than usual. They keep saying that you're not really a Half Moon, because you had a son."