Inconvenient Magic 01 - Potatoes, Come Forth!
Page 29
Technology was visibly staggered as the first of the potatoes struck his chest with great force. A following shotgun-like blast struck the pistol from his hand, but he managed retain a hold on the canceling mechanism and savagely mashed his thumb on the red button. When the swarm of tubers failed to react, he crushed the button with the heel of his free hand, displaying signs of desperation, but again the transporting potatoes continued their assault undiminished
As waist-high drifts began to form around his body, Technology surged toward Everett and screamed, “How did you do this?”
Everett did not bother to reply, but simply turned and started running toward the lane as the swarm grew to a blizzard. A potato the size of a saucer careened off his forehead, almost knocking him to the ground. Barreling on, he threw up his forearms to protect his face from the pummeling torrent. With the noise now earsplitting, a constant hail smashed into his chest, arms, and legs with force enough to retard his forward advance, the slightly stunned potatoes tumbling and spinning around him to continue their unswerving obedience to the imperative of the spell. Almost swimming through the brown, tan, and red cloud as he strove to escape the fifty-yard radius of the spell, he was struck and bruised hundreds of times before he finally broke free. He gasped to regain his breath and then trotted onward a few dozen steps for safety's sake.
Only then did he turn to look back. Of Technology, nothing could be seen. Where the man had stood, a great conglomeration of spuds squirmed in an almost obscene parody of life. Already, many thousands of pounds crushed in upon Technology’s corporeal biologic and soon there would be many more, compacting and smashing each other in a relentless effort to reach the central point of the locus, the man’s breastbone.
Everett had had no choice with the what; there was no ambiguity in “potatoes.” He could not by any stretch imagine that the word meant anything else – not watermelons, grapefruit, or even apples. What he had been able to interpret differently had been the quantity specified. In this case, he had taken the plural form to mean all the potatoes existing within a thousand miles, trusting in magic – or Magic, as it were – to provide the means for them to overcome the normal limitations of the spell’s range.
The where had been a routine matter of selecting and concentrating on a locus at the moment of enunciation.
The supremely vital when, however, had been his free to select, and he had chosen a time an hour after actuation.
When facing Edwin on the air carriage, he had learned that the magic canceling mechanisms affected only the initiation of a spell and had guessed that any similar mechanism that Technology might bring to bear against him would function in the same way.
If he had been wrong, his life would have been forfeit.
Unluckily for Technology, he had not been.
THIRTY-FOUR
Everett dreamed.
At first, he chased a quarry that he could not see and could not catch through an endless ruin.
Then, he was sitting on his father’s terrace, but there were no apples to eat and his father was long gone.
Finally, as he sat upon a bucket watching ripples in a pool, Magic and a thoroughly subdued Technology approached him from out of a green fog.
“Have you come to take my remaining spells?” he griped.
“By all rights, you shouldn't be able to keep them,” Technology grumped.
Magic cut her eyes sharply to scold her fellow noncorporeal sentient being. “No, Everett, you get to keep everything you currently have. That is, for now. However, you must understand that these spells make you preternaturally powerful, and if in my judgment you begin to use them in an unseemly manner or in a manner that damages the cause of magic in this universe, I will be sure to revisit this decision.”
“I could care less. Are you really here or am I just dreaming?”
“No, we're not,” Technology replied blandly. “Most accurately, we should be considered a figment of your imagination rather than an intrusion of our noncorporeal essences into the physical realm. However, for all practical purposes, there's no difference.”
Turning his back upon the two, Everett spit into the pool to express his opinion of that answer and then watched as the ripples collided and rebounded.
“Why are you here?” he asked without turning.
“As you have done me a great favor,” Magic replied, “I thought I would answer any questions you might have. All endeavors must have closure of a sort, after all. Technology is just along because I have been given charge of his parole. For a certain period, I will have veto power over his actions.”
Everett only had one question. “Where in the world is Sarah? I’ve searched for her everywhere.”
“I do not know, Everett. She is wherever you sent her.”
“Is it even possible for you to give a straight answer?”
“That is a straight answer. I have no idea where Sarah is. Destiny cannot locate her and none of the other noncorporeals has a clue. I even questioned Weather, whose awareness of individuals is quite effervescent.”
“Then I have no further use for your company.”
Everett dove head first into the pool and woke up.
Throwing off his blanket, he sat up and gazed around dully at his cold camp. He had set up the night before among a stand of cottonwoods on a bluff above a river whose name he had not bothered to learn. Dry mouthed, he rubbed a hand across his still tired eyes and then reached for his canteen, draining most of the tepid water in one swallow.
After the death of Technology’s corporeal biologic beneath the mountain of potatoes, he had spent most of a month combing the Republic for Sarah. Seeking out the work camps where the Enlightened Society had detained all Zherian magickers, he had found and released many, including the worn but otherwise whole Eylis Coldridge and Margaret who he had reunited with the other freed Synthesists in Kleinsvench, wreaked joyful havoc on uncounted Esatis, and sown great confusion in the Republican ranks.
But he had not found Sarah and no one he had taken the time to question had been able to provide any clue as to her whereabouts.
He stood up, walked out a short distance to make water, then came back to gather up his bedroll and tie it to his already stowed pack. He had encountered the pack along the way. It was a Republican infantryman standard issue and a serviceable if somewhat lacking replacement for the one that he had lost when he first met Sarah. He glanced around to make sure he had not left anything out.
Then, as he had every morning and every evening and dozens of times every day for weeks, he cast his eighth spell.
“Beautiful Woman, come forth!”
And, as it had every morning and every evening and dozens of times every day, the magic failed to actuate.
After a moment, he shouldered his pack, cast his Potents, and bounded away, heading south.
He crossed over the frontier about mid-morning. The bean wall remained undiminished. Both armies had withdrawn; for now, the impenetrable barrier quite thoroughly dissuaded any attempt at attack by either side and little was to be gained by guarding an impassible section of border.
Passing over the bucolic Principality of Gainsfield-Schloss, he arrived in Kleinsvench hardly an hour later. The city had a demonstrably more energized air than it had when he had seen it last, three weeks earlier. A great number of its citizens had begun to return and with them the noise and life. He first visited Von Gylg’s shop. The gunsmith, his sons, and around a dozen more people, none of whom Everett recognized, were busily mass-producing explosive lances.
“I’ve taken on contracts to export to the Alarsarians and others in the Grand Alliance,” Von Gylg explained. “I took it for granted that you wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t.”
“After costs, wages, and equipment fees, I’ve set aside the profits for you. We’ve received payment for the first two shipments of a hundred each and it comes to thirteen thousand three hundred and sixty-nine silver. It’s all in coin in a strongbox. I wasn’t really in
terested in paper, under the circumstances, and I didn’t think that you would have any trouble with the weight.”
Everett laughed hollowly. “Thanks, but by rights I should get no more than half. You can send that and all future payments up to the castle in care of Monsieur Monte-Jaune. I’ll ask him to manage the money for me.”
With a sad smile, the gunsmith examined Everett’s face. “You’ll be off to the Republic to search for Mademoiselle Monte-Jaune again?”
Finally putting to words the decision that he had already made brought a hard frown to Everett’s lips. “No, I’m going back to the east. I may try to set up a magicking shop in New Zindersberg, but I haven’t decided for certain.”
Everett bid the man a quick farewell and started toward the apothecary’s place of business. Along the way, he came across a café that had been shut tight the last time he passed. Today, it was open for business and well patronized. Not hungry but knowing that he needed to eat, he took a seat at a table for one beside the street and had a meal that proved disappointing. They boiled their okra, they had no fresh fruit of any kind, and they had never heard of cornbread.
Afterwards, he went to settle his account with Mindelsen. With a kind but resigned expression, the apothecary set a green glass bottle sealed with a screw lid onto the counter when he entered.
“I have your potion ready. The dosage is on the label,” Mindelsen informed him in a business-like tone. “It will retain its potency for a year. If you need more after that, you have only to let me know.”
Everett placed the bottle in his pocket without comment. “Will there be any additional charge?”
The apothecary chuckled. “Monsieur Von Gylg has been paying for the explosives and propellants in hard coin and I still have half of the gold you placed on account. With the drop in the value of paper currency, the deca-crowns have actually increased considerably in value. With interest and earnings from the formulas, the sum is something over fifteen thousand the last time I checked. As I have deposited the monies with a strongbox firm for safekeeping, it will be this afternoon before I can refund the balance.”
“With my compliments, please consider the entire sum your just due for services well rendered.”
“I thank you, Monsieur Wizard, but I expect to make a large sum from my commissions on the sale of the medicinal potion to foreign factors. Some of the physicians consider it a miracle cure. Here in Kleinsvench, it has already helped several dozen people with apparently terminal infections. However, if you do not object, I could put the balance to purchasing the ingredients to concoct the potion for those without the wherewithal to pay.”
Everett nodded. “An excellent suggestion. What’s more, you can divert any future profits that might accrue to me for the same purpose.”
The apothecary did not seem surprised. “It would be my pleasure. I should also tell you that I have applied by mail for registrations of the medicinal formula in your name in both the Kingdom and the Republic. Once they come through, however long that takes, I will license the formula for widespread production. The revenue will be more than significant.”
“I’ll have no need of it, though if there's much more than you need for distribution of the potion, I’d appreciate it if you could set aside a tenth portion and send it to Monsieur Monte-Jaune.”
The apothecary inclined his head in understanding.
Finally, Everett wound his way slowly through the city and made the hike up the inclined approach to the castle. He found Sarah’s father on the esplanade adjacent to Mad Lydia's Folly, studying the revived metropolis. The meeting was brief.
Nodding curtly as Everett, stone-faced, related his failure to find her, Guillaume affirmed with determination and finality, “Sarah will turn up, Everett. Magic is on our side.”
Everett found he had nothing to say to that. “Monsieurs Von Gylg and Mindelsen will from time to time send silver that I‘ve earned. I’d like you to put it aside for me and use it if there’s a need.”
“Gladly, but I take that to mean that you plan to leave. You're more than welcome to stay with us here, Everett.”
“Thank you, but I think it’s time that I moved on.”
“Will you be going south to join the forces of the Grand Alliance?”
“No, the Zherians and the Alarsarians will have to sort things out without me. I’m going back to the east.”
Sarah’s father shook his hand. “Good luck, Everett.”
The magicker cast and bounded away.
He crossed over the Grand Duchy of Filingham and the battle torn eastern provinces of Alarsaria by the end of the day but continued on into the night, stopping only when he was well into the Shadowed Hills. Along about ten o’clock the next day, he reached the Edze. On impulse, he gravitated toward the Barony of Heimgelberg and after some searching, located a steam grader working along a back road within sight of Pylton. When he landed alongside it, the operator waved; it was indeed Bob.
After much valve twisting and lever throwing, Bob brought his mechanical beast to a halt and hopped down with a grin.
“Glad to see you again!” The road worker indicated Everett’s method of arrival by a quick glance at the sky. “Looks like you’ve gotten some new magic!”
“Yes, a bit.”
The man got a gleam in his eye. “Any improvements in the wine spell?”
“Maybe. Want to give it a go?”
“Of course! Come around to the stern!”
At the barrel fastened in a frame aback of the rear platform, Bob took a mug from a hook, filled it, then held it out expectantly.
“I bid cool water become sweet wine.”
After the water darkened, Bob knocked back a swig. “Mmm, not bad.”
He took another much longer draught. “You know, in fact, I’d say it was half decent.”
He finished the mug and placed it back on its hook.
“Would you like me to transubstantiate the whole barrel?” Everett offered.
“No, that’d just get me in trouble with the wife. She’d have thrown a wheel if I came home soused. Well, what have you been doing with yourself?”
“I met a woman, lost her, saved the world.”
“Regular day’s work for a magicker, eh? Shame about the woman. Every man needs one whether he wants one or not. Don’t mind me being nosy, but did you just misplace her or did she take up with another fellow?”
“I just can’t find her.”
“Oh, if that’s all then that’s an easy fix. Just go looking where she aught to be and she’ll turn up sooner or later.”
Everett stared at Bob for a lengthy moment, dumbfounded. He suddenly knew where he would find Sarah.
“Thanks Bob! You’re exactly right! See you later!”
“Anytime!” the operator shouted as Everett bounded away. “Don’t forget me and the wine if you happen to swing back through!”
Everett traveled without stopping and reached the eastern coast by evening. When he walked down the cart trail from the main road and into the shaded front court of the main house, his nieces and nephews, who had all grown a foot in the years since he had seen them last, ran screaming to hug him. This commotion drew his sister and brother-in-law from the house and Everett found himself completely enveloped in family.
Later, he wandered onto the sun-lit terrace and sat at the round, pedestal table where his father had always read on spring afternoons. Now, instead of a pile of half-finished, dog-eared books, a glass bowl filled with early green apples resided in the place of honor. He took an apple from the bowl, inhaled a savoring whiff of its fresh, sweet aroma, and took a large, very satisfied bite.
When he had transported Sarah, he had been thinking of a place of unquestioned safety, a place where neither the Esatis nor Technology could reach her, a place beyond the grasp of the slightest peril or the greatest magic. The spell had done what he wanted, instead of what he intended. It had taken her out of a time and place of danger and want and sent her to one of security and plenty.
/>
And then Sarah appeared right before him, just as he had seen her last: dressed in the sheet, holding the lantern, hair disheveled, with smears of soot on her forehead. And thoroughly angry.
“—doing?”
She stopped, took quick stock of her surroundings, then demanded, “Where in Magic’s name are we, Everett?”
He smiled. “Home.”
Table of Contents
Title Page
Other Works:
Forthcoming:
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR