by Power, P. S.
Tor was glad he liked it.
With the new gear they should be able to get to the Capital much faster than if they had to go by horse or wagon. Trice asked who was flying with her three trunks, crossing her arms and raising her dark eyebrows at him. She didn't sound happy about it either.
“I guess we can put them on your shoulders, but it's going to get a little hard for you to see when we add everyone else's...” She crossed her arms as if challenging him to tell her that they couldn't take their things. Like things were important? He almost laughed at her, but handed over the lifts instead, deciding to forgo the beating that would probably incur and helped her to fix the hand size copper plates with straps to the bottom of each trunk.
“So, here's the nifty part. Use the plate on the back of your hand to activate the ones on the trunk. Do that first!” He stopped the Count from getting the order wrong, since that would involve a dark gray leather clad giant slamming around at speed. With a shield on that meant that everyone else was in greater danger than him, but still, not a fun way to start a pleasure trip. “Then just take a position about five to ten feet away from it and activate normally... like this.”
He started with a simple tap of his left hand on the stylized bird, a whitish green on copper. He thought it was pretty, but apparently some of the high level merchant ladies wanted them in crystal instead, with finely engraved birds scratched in by artists. All he had to do was authorize it being done at a manufacturing plant, so it wasn't a hassle for him at least.
Lifting up to about twenty feet so that everyone could see what was happening clearly. His single trunk, an old one of Rolph's that he'd lent for the trip, instead of the burlap sack Tor normally used for traveling, tracked with him perfectly.
“Just don't fly too close to each other, or the trunks will end up colliding!”
Everyone took him seriously and spread out a good ways. Trice smirked at him for some reason but didn't say anything to him directly. At least he didn't have to try and carry her trunks himself. That would have been hilarious, right up until he either dropped them or they caused him to crash to his death. He wasn't sure which one of those options would have been worse for him personally and decided to be glad he'd thought of a fix for the problem first.
the Capital was about two thousand miles to the south of the school and a bit east which, as long as they all wore shields the whole time to protect from the wind, they could travel inside ten hours. Less really, but everyone wanted to stop to eat, and use the facilities in some of the nicer cities they saw from the air several times. All the new people made Tor feel uneasy, so he didn't say a lot and tried not to gawk like a bumpkin overly each time they landed. People stared at them openly of course, because flying was still new and most places hadn't even seen it yet. Some people even pointed and waved, which made him self-conscious, but he waved back when he noticed it. They all did.
The last leg took longer, because they had to follow a river as a landmark, and it didn't travel in a straight line. There was a stone paved road next to it most of the way, which was the only sign that it was the right place, since a big river in one area probably looked a lot like any other. It did glint a bright and pretty blue from the air at least, the light twinkling and shiny from above. It was nice and cool up where they were, but on the ground it was hot and got worse each time they landed. It made Tor glad that Rolph's parents had one of the cooling plates already.
He had a few extra, more than a few, of everything, tucked away in his trunk, just in case they were expected to bring gifts. No one had said anything, but that was normal in Two Bends and the surrounding area. If you were going to call on someone you brought a little something, a bit of bread or cider was traditional, but extra meat or even some flowers could work. He just hoped that his little homemade things wouldn't be considered too tacky by these wealthy and powerful people. Maybe they'd just think it was quaint and be happy that he'd tried to be polite and hadn't wiped his mouth on the curtains or mated with the livestock?
He could only hope. Everyone assured him that he'd be a hit, as long as he didn't forget to talk to people like he sometimes did when an idea struck him. He promised that he'd try to remember, which made everyone smirk at him except Count Thomson, who smiled warmly and nodded encouragingly.
Trice waved to him and pointed ahead, where a city at least ten times larger than anything he'd seen before shone like a jewel, a thick white wall around the outside and a riot of color inside, offset by the walls of most of the buildings, identical to the outside of the city, a glowing bright white in the sun.
About ten miles outside the place a group of men met them, flying with what were probably military grade lances in their left hands. Copper plates with pale green birds visible on their right hands held in place by very stylish looking dark brown leather strips. It was a good look. His was held in place with hemp twine, which made him feel a bit self-conscious for a moment. Everyone else had something nicer than that. Count Thomson had a heavy silver chain, Sara a bright blue ribbon and Trice a light tan leather thong. OK, Rolph had twine too, but on him it looked manly and like a statement about how he didn't care about fashion. On Tor it probably just seemed poor. Which was the truth, but he didn't want strangers to think that. It probably looked bad enough wearing his old brown exercise outfit.
At least Rolph had done the same thing, probably so he wouldn't feel out of place. The guy had nicer clothing too, so that almost had to be it. It was really kind of him to have thought of it.
The man in front stared at them as they approached, not saying anything, his face blank and calm, if a little stern. Everyone, the guards and his friends, slowed and then stopped, just hanging at the same level in the air, so Tor did too. By their red and white uniforms and funny looking round hats, these were city guards of some kind rather than an actual military force, so at least they weren't all going to be killed out of hand. Tor hoped that was the case at any rate. One of the men in the back floated forward and whistled before the one in front could greet them.
“Damn.” He pointed at the floating luggage trunks with the weapon in his left hand, sounding impressed. “How are you all doing that? That is so...” The man in front turned and scowled at the man, clearly junior to the others. He mumbled an embarrassed apology and floated back into position, causing a few of the men to have to fight smiles from their faces.
The front guard made a curious gesture in the air; a wave of the left hand that Tor realized must be a weapons salute with the off hand. They needed their right to fly. He supposed he could switch the field over in case they needed to fight, he just hadn't thought of it when doing the original design. After all, Torrence hadn't been planning to fight from the air himself so just hadn't considered it.
The Count and Trice nodded back, as did Rolph. Sara made a bob in the air, a curtsy he realized after a second. It looked cute, but then she was cute, so anything she did tended to look adorable. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, so he decided to go with what he would have done had he seen these kinds of men in his home village.
Then he immediately thought better of it.
Screaming “run away” and trying to fly away as fast as possible to hide in the forest might not be taken too well, especially since there was no forest in sight. And really, everyone was supposed to be here, even him, as awkward as it felt at the moment. He nodded his head and murmured. “Greetings sirs.”
No one shot him or even glared, so it must not have been too poorly done. The lead guardsman gave him a courteous nod even making brief eye contact. He hadn't with the others at all though.
“Sirs and ladies, please identify yourselves...” The lead man didn't look at anyone directly then, eyes going to the right, possibly so that it wouldn't seem rude, him looking at the wrong person first or something. There were rules to that kind of thing Tor guessed. At home he would have just looked at the ground himself if presented with obvious royals like the Count and Trice, but doing that here would pro
bably be a poor idea. You tended to fly where you looked.
The Count did all the introductions for them. Appropriate being the highest ranked person in the group.
“I'm Count Toverland Morehouse Thomson. To my right is the Ducherina Patricia Alyson Morgan. Behind her is Sara Debri, daughter of the Debri merchant house. The red haired fellow is Alphonse, but we all call him Rolph at school and when traveling... you understand? The last man... is Tor.”
The men all bowed in the air, low and humble looking, which they had to have practiced, because it required bringing the right hand up just slightly, almost too small an amount to see, at the same time they folded their bodies to give the right impression without sending them flipping head over heels. One of the men almost lost it, or so it looked to Tor. He probably couldn't have managed the move himself either, so he couldn't fault the guy. The lead man spoke again.
“Pri...” He started but the Count and Rolph both shook their heads “no” for some reason, flustering the man for a moment. “Worthies, please be welcome to the Capital city. As the advent of flying is new here, we ask that... all persons please enter the city through the main gate, where transportation may be arranged for you. I trust that will be sufficient?”
The man looked nervous, sweating a little even if it wasn't all that hot up here. Maybe the Count being there shocked him, or... Well, it could be the girls? They were good looking and maybe they didn't have a lot of ladies flying around yet? At school it was slightly skewed towards men flying so far, but about forty percent of the regular flyers were royal girls or female combat giants, which was often the same thing. Or... the trunks? It was new. Maybe they suspected they were for weapons or something? Thinking about it he decided that he'd make them land too. Any tall man could claim to be a Count, but who had flying luggage? Only them.
Suspicious without a doubt.
The guards, whose leader introducing himself as Captain Curtis, guided them to the main gate easily. They obviously had gotten to fly about as much as anyone from the way they handled themselves. Out of this group Tor realized that he was the one that probably had the least time in the air. Well, maybe he'd get a little time while on break to practice? If nothing else he'd already gotten a full day's worth, which was better than nothing. On the ground they had to wait for a carriage or something to come they were told, since strictly speaking, flying had been forbidden in the city.
Curtis the guard looked at them, standing straight and looked from Rolph to Tovey several times. “Accidents sir. The King himself laid the restriction.”
Rolph shrugged and turned to Tor.
“No big thing, we can hire a cab to take us around. Maybe we can signal for one from here?”
They didn't have to, it turned out, since not one but three had already been called up for them by someone that had seen them flying in. One for the people and two for all the trunks. That kind of made sense, because anyone flying in would need transportation, wouldn't they? They could have stacked all the trunks in one, nothing they had was that heavy, but apparently people didn't do that in the Capital. It wasn't seemly. Right, well Tor didn't want to look like a bumpkin either, so he just nodded and hoped the cabs wouldn't cost too much for the hire.
It was hot here, blistering even in the shade, nearly the worse heat he'd ever felt not standing next to an oven. No one else seemed to mind it at all, so Tor didn't mention it, but they all started to soak through their clothing too. So at least they didn't have some inborn immunity to it. After a long time, almost an hour which felt longer, they pulled up a long paved drive to a house that was bigger than any private dwelling he'd ever seen. It was closer in size to some of the larger school dorms.
“This isn't my main residence, which is in my district of course. This is just the third place, for when we have to meet down here for the fall conferences. I must say Tor, flying this distance beats the pants off of driving it. I'm almost certain that many of the peers will want to try it as soon as they hear how much faster and pleasant it is.”
He led them inside to see if he could scare up some refreshments for them all. The servants blushed and scurried. Apparently they hadn't expected Tovey back for over a week at least, possibly a lot longer than that. They didn't have anything special prepared for guests at all, which seemed like some kind of a big deal to the poor guy that had to tell them. The Count looked embarrassed too, but Tor just shrugged.
“Some cool water would be good. No need to stress these people out just because I insisted we all fly. My fault after all, right? All the way around really... How were they supposed to know?” The servant in the room, a man in gray clothes, nicer than anything Tor owned, didn't nod, but he looked grateful that this had been pointed out. Hopefully the Count wouldn't blame these people. It really had been his fault; after all, Tor had invented the devices to begin with. Or, if they wanted they could all blame Kolb, but that still didn't free up Tor for assuming they'd be traveling that way.
The water came without anyone leaving the room to fetch it. It even had ice in it, which in this climate must be hard to come by, and expensive to keep on hand. Tor felt his mind start to drift. Could they use a field that removed heat from a small area, insulated with rock like an oven, in order to create real freezing conditions? Heck, couple it with an oven and you should be able to kill two birds with one stone. He basically had the field already, the temperature plates; all he had to do was figure out how he wanted to manage it all. Maybe he could try it later, if anyone had some boxes or something he could use.
Trice stood in front of him smiling and talking, so he decided to pay attention before she hit him. Tor still had his shield on at least. It was one of the new ones that could breathe underwater and made it a lot harder to choke or suffocate him. That wouldn't stop the girl from trying if she took the idea into her head. He wondered if all female nobles were as violently oriented as she was. His sisters were all meek by comparison and they'd known him all their lives, so you'd think if anyone were going to hit him, it would have been one of them, but Trice apparently didn't think her behavior towards him was odd.
She didn't try to hit Rolph or Tovey like that.
It did fit his rule of not getting into a fight with someone bigger than you are though, maybe it was just that?
“So we should get to our own dwellings. Remember, Debri house tomorrow for luncheon, which is mid-afternoon here, Tor. Rolph will get you there on time. Don't be late.” The girl smiled at him and patted the back of his hand, which she had to take in her own in order to do, slippery as it was from the shield. It felt awkward to him, her touching him like that, not really making contact at all, not unpleasant, just strange. It was a mental thing he knew. The implied contact with a pretty girl being off putting, not the way it felt through the shield which was just like his hand moved on its own a little.
Rolph and he reloaded one of the carriages with their trunks and arranged the other two for the girls without being asked. Just as they finished several house servants boiled out of the Count's dwelling looking mortified.
“Sir! We...” He looked down at the ground, clearly ashamed.
Why Tor couldn't get at all.
Rolph finished for the man. “You... don't need to be out in this heat? Thanks for thinking of us though. It looks like we've got this in hand. Now, back inside, out of the sun.” Rolph smiled and gestured a little with his left hand. The man went as if the gentle suggestion was a command. All of them did, practically running to get back inside. Tor couldn't blame them, this heat was damned oppressive. It made him wonder why they'd put the Capital here in the first place. He didn't ask out loud, not wanting to insult his friends since this was their home, at least for Rolph and Sara. It hadn't been their idea, since the Capital had stood here for hundreds of years at least.
Trice patted his arm and climbed in her carriage to be led away. Sara stopped for a second and stood by, watching them leave with a small grin. Then she got in her own carriage, from the window she shouted out that
Tor should come with any new ideas he had too.
As if he wouldn't? Didn't she know him at all by now? He smiled at her and waved as the gold and white carriage moved away slowly.
The drive to Rolph's house took a lot longer, almost two hours. They had to wind back and forth along several streets before they got to the back of a walled compound. Inside the tall brilliantly white wall, which stretched up about thirty feet, he could see a large house and then, off in the distance, a much bigger building. Huge in fact. Bigger than all the school buildings put together. He was feeling over awed when Rolph shrugged and pointed at the smaller one.
“Our stop. Don't let that big thing fool you, that's for the important people, you and I should have this to ourselves, I think, unless there are other guests. We'll have dinners here, most of the time; my mother wants to come the first night to welcome you, tonight. If that's alright? We could beg off, if you're too tired, but I haven't seen her in a while. Dad may or may not come. He gets busy, you know?”
Rolph led them into the smaller house, a dwelling nicer even than what the Count had, if not as big. The inside had wooden walls; hand carved out of something dark and polished to gleaming. The floors a highly polished marble with throw rugs all over the place. The furniture was even more impressive. It looked nice and new, but felt old when he touched it with his mind, like it had been around longer than the rest of the building. A lot longer. Someone had spent money on this place. Too much for what was essentially a simple dwelling.
That wouldn't stop him from sleeping in it, just from being comfortable while he did. He'd thought the school had nice rooms, but compared to this, what Rolph was used to, they might as well been putting them off in the barn to sleep with the horses. The bed in the room he was shown to was bigger than both the beds at the school if they were pushed together. The room was about four times bigger and done all in white. He was almost afraid that if he touched something it would leave a stain. He'd have to get a bath as soon as possible, he decided. The idea of actually coming in contact with anything here, as dirty as he undoubtedly was, terrified him. Not real terror maybe, but close enough. Looking around carefully Tor wondered if he should try flying over the floor instead of walking. He let that go when a vision of trashing the place came into his head and didn't leave. Him smashing first into one wall and then another on an uncontrolled rebound, leaving huge holes. Instead he just didn't let himself make contact with anything if he could help it.
