Adornments of Glory

by J. Crispin-Ripley

  "Damn forest," Grunt answered. "At your damn shrine." Dwarves didn't sleep outdoors, given a choice. And while Grunt was an unusual dwarf, in that she was typical, she liked her creature comforts and pleasures.

  "I never would have looked for you there. And it’s not my shrine, just where I was born." Feldspar rolled out of bed to stand by her friend. "You're taller?" It wasn't really a question. Grunt had most decidedly gained a couple of inches in height, which she shouldn't have, not at her age. Unlike elves, adult dwarves and humans couldn't alter their body shape or mass. Grunt had always been tall for a dwarf; now she was more the normal height of a human.

  "Your damn fault."

  "Sorry." Feldspar wasn't sure what she'd done.

  "Serves me right."

  "Okay why does it serve you right?" Getting information from a dwarf was like pulling the claws from a grizzly's paw.

  "Damn soul-sister to the damn Prophesied."

  "You don't need to think I like being what I am either. Being the Prophesied is a curse. And utter nonsense-" Feldspar shuddered--'utter nonsense' was a Belinda phrase. Maybe Belinda couldn't help that Feldspar was her fifth child and therefore the inheritrix of prophecy, but the woman had added to it by birthing her heralded daughter at a shrine in the forest of the Great Mother, conveniently near the inn of her lover, Square, a leading dwarf Adept. As Belinda said, she'd covered all races, at least the three civilised ones.

  If there were anything to the prophecy, Feldspar thought it showed more in Grunt than in herself. While Feldspar was to all appearances a standard human, albeit one others found exceedingly attractive, Grunt was no normal dwarf. She had been far taller and thinner than any other known, even before her recent spurt of growth. And she was eloquent, when not playing at being surly. She also had a sultry charisma that brought admirers from all over Diluvia to Square's inn seeking her favours.

  "I've never heard you complain about our connection before," Feldspar said into the continuing stony silence. "Quit being such a dwarf and just tell me what's going on."

  "Damned if I know," Grunt answered, a grin spreading over her broad face. "Remember, I'm just a dumb blonde." She fingered the platinum half-proof of her statement. "I had to go hide last night. Everyone figures if you take me to Terra, I won't come back. They're right."

  "So that's what happened to Agate. You're the one who clobbered him."

  "For sure I did. They abhor the thought of their vision of carnal perfection buggering off, the poor lads do. And I think Daddy Square would prefer his inn's drawing card remain resident."

  "I thought he was in favour of my going on this quest," Feldspar said.

  "You? Most certainly. Me? Kind of doubt it. Figure he'd do pretty much anything to keep me around."

  "Arrange for goblins to swarm me?"

  "What? Are you kidding? No way he'd even think of hurting you. He knows if I even got a hint of it, I'd mash him into a pot of porridge. Not that stupid, he isn't."

  "Someone is." Feldspar started to tell Grunt of her adventure.

  Grunt held up a hand. "Want to tell me the tale over lunch, oh mighty Prophesied? Daddy Square can treat us to a bite to eat before we get out of here."

  * * * * *

  Many calories later, Feldspar and Grunt headed off into the forest to find Planetsinger. Over brunch they'd decided she'd provide the best, if perhaps the most incomprehensible, advice available regarding the quest. As the Great Mother, Planetsinger was beyond politics. No way she would be responsible for the goblins. Matter of fact, she'd be horrified--assuming she hadn't already discovered everything there was to know about the incident.

  Assuming she could be found. The forest trails always seemed to change and this day they led Feldspar and Grunt to one place only, the shrine.

  "I suppose this is a sign of something," Feldspar said, kicking the dark granite rotunda. "Tell me, Grunt, out of all the places you could have gone last night, why did you come here?"

  "Thought you'd wander this way when you didn't find me at the inn."

  Feldspar sat on one of the carved benches. "I suppose I might have. If I hadn't been so tired, I'd have headed into the forest anyway."

  "And the forest would have brought you here," Grunt said. "Besides, I came here because, for outside, this is a good place to sleep."

  That was true. The shrine was shelter and sanctuary. Hunting animals would avoid the structure, even foolish goblins. Set in the middle of a wide meadow and by a sparkling stream, the shrine was also an excellent picnic site. It wasn't really 'her' shrine, except for the fact that her mother had chosen to birth her there. Grunt knew that. As usual, she was teasing.

  "I found a better place to sleep last night," Feldspar said.

  "Sleep? Damn unlikely."

  "You know me so well, oh wise one. So, tell me, why do all paths lead here today?"

  "Planetsinger." Grunt sat beside Feldspar and put a strong, sororal arm around her. "Or some meddling god or other."

  "I'd hate to think any of the gods would pay attention to me." She was god-fearing, as anyone with intelligence had to be. But having the fairies dance at her birth was bad enough; she didn't want to be god-bitten as well. Mind you, she probably had as much choice about that as she'd had regarding the fairies at birth. Gods didn't ask permission.

  A familiar apparition flickered into being in front of them. It seemed Grunt had been right again, as usual. They'd gone looking for Planetsinger and Planetsinger had chosen to find them instead. She began to solidify. Evidently, this wasn't going to be one of her spectral visits. Planetsinger reached to one side, into nothing, and pulled. A tall being flew into existence beside her and fell tumbling to the grass at Feldspar and Grunt's feet.

  "I'm too old for this sort of thing." He picked himself up. "Hi ladies, I'm Shimmerscribe."

  "Don't think so," Grunt said.

  "She means you're not an elf," Feldspar said. Grunt played dwarf to excuse being rude. "At least I don't think you're an elf," she continued after taking a second look. He was as tall as most elves preferred to be in order to deal with humans, perhaps taller, but no elf would choose to have such a lined and aged face. "And even Grunt can see you're not an adept."

  "Thanks loads, soul-sister." Grunt took her arm from around Feldspar and shifted away on the bench. "Even Grunt. Hah!"

  "No, he's not an elf." Planetsinger had finally achieved corporeal status. "And yes, Shimmerscribe's a name that properly would belong to a great elf adept. You'll have to forgive him. He's a writer from Terra and took the name before he understood our ways."

  "Damn fool Terran," Grunt muttered under her breath.

  "Indeed," Shimmerscribe said. "I'm guilty of that sin and of writing some incredibly inaccurate fiction featuring elves, dwarves and the like. I beg your forgiveness."

  "I decided it was time Terra learned something of us, and us about them," Planetsinger said, hands on hips.

  "We know all about Terra," Grunt said.

  "From the bits of our internet that show up on your backbone?" Shimmerscribe laughed. "Pardon me, but no. The only Diluvians who know anything about my planet are those who have lived there. At its best, the Internet contains little but self-serving lies, and the version you get here is heavily filtered to boot."

  "We cut out the band-wasting graphics and sound," Grunt said. "Other than that, we get everything."

  "Damn fool Diluvian," Shimmerscribe said. Maybe he didn't know mimicking Grunt could lead to loss of teeth.

  "That wouldn't be appropriate, dear." Planetsinger moved in front of Grunt as she started for Shimmerscribe. "The main point I hoped to make by bringing Shimmerscribe along was that your party is going to be questing in an alien world with little in the way of resources to call on. Most of the people sending you would as rather see you fail as succeed."

  "We know that." Grunt took a step back but her expression said she still longed to rearrange Shimmerscribe's face.

  "Any help you get from Diluvians is as likely to be hindra
nce as the help it purports to be. The likelihood is you'll fail and we can't afford that." Planetsinger furrowed her brow. "Not with the Adornments of Glory there, and in unknown hands. We have to get them back."

  "Why?" Grunt asked. "They were tuned to Glory and she's long since recycled. No one can use them."

  "They were keyed to her aura, but Glory herself had five children."

  "And she may yet be reborn," Shimmerscribe said, his arms inscribing a circle over his head.

  "Didn't realise you're a metaphysician." Grunt tilted her head to one side as if trying to get a different perspective on Shimmerscribe. "If you are you should know transmigration doesn't work that way. Ever hear of split soul theory."

  "Don't be so sure… no one is quite sure how rebirth does work, dear," Planetsinger said with a smile for Grunt. "However, it's Glory's descendants I'm concerned by, not that she may again walk among us, although that would be a wonder for the ages. No, traces of elvish blood run in most human veins. The Compact that ended the Atlantian war forbade more being added but, among others, Delarone's lodge of Red by the Falls has been inbreeding for centuries trying to strengthen what they have of Glory's line. Delarone is the culmination of this and he hopes to be able to learn to use the Adornments himself. But if he can't, others of Glory's line live on Terra. It could be that one of them will have an aura close enough."

  "Doubt it," Grunt said.

  "Doubt nothing, young one," Planetsinger said. "Take it as true. If it is, we're looking at major trouble. We can't take the chance."

  "What chance?" Feldspar asked. Time to show Grunt she wasn't the only one who read Diluvian history. "The Adornments are benign. The Circlet amplifies the wearer's charisma and the Chain makes their shields stronger. Was I talking too fast?" She asked Shimmerscribe who was writing frantically on a pad of paper. "And why aren't you using an eternal scroll instead of murdered forest?" If she'd had any doubts Shimmerscribe was Terran, they would be gone. Only Terrans were stupid enough to kill trees for reading and writing materials.

  "I'm keeping up fine." Shimmerscribe lifted his head to look her in the eye. "But thank you for your concern. I'm afraid I'm just old fashioned. Don't trust electronics. But what about the other Adornment, the Sceptre?"

  "No one knows what that does."

  "However, there are theories… but I'm sure you know them. Even Grunt does." Grunt gave a theatrical yawn. "Sorry, I had a short night that was no fun at all."

  "No, I don't know them," Shimmerscribe said, tilting his head forward on its long neck.

  "Do your own damn research, human."

  "We haven't time for this, children." Planetsinger sighed. "You can fight amongst yourselves when Diluvia is once again safe. Feldspar, we're not actually certain the other Adornments are as benign as Grunt said, but the jewels on the Sceptre are anything but. They're synthetic, crystalline batteries. As you know, the portals to Terra act like funnels; it's much easier to get there than to get back. It's thought the jewels can power the portals in the other direction, if activated by one of Glory's line, opening us to invasion. Now, I have other business. Shimmerscribe and I will see you again when you've found a third member for your party." Planetsinger grabbed the human's arm and they vanished.

  "Why does she do that?" Feldspar asked.

  "Do what?"

  "Disappear right off but always fade in when she arrives."

  "Damn drama queen."

  "You're right, that probably is it." Feldspar turned to face Grunt. "I apologise. You do your dumb dwarf act so well I sometimes forget you're smarter than I am."

  "Don't overdo the false humility, thou vainglorious wench. And let's go. I don't intend to sleep here again tonight. Which way, oh fearless leader?"

  They couldn't return to Square's inn. That was known enemy territory now that Grunt had been recruited for the quest. And they needed to find their third Diluvian member quickly so they could leave for Terra and concentrate on Delarone and the Adornments rather than fighting Diluvian foes and estranged family members.

  "That way." Feldspar pointed to a path that, if the forest paths were working normally again, would lead them to the other side of Capitol. "To balance the party we should look for an elf."

  "Don't you always?"

  "And just what do you mean by that?"

  "Where were you last night? Probably dropping your drawers for some skinny freak rather than coming to visit me. That's no way to lead, soul-sister."

  "You're right." What made it worse was that mere hours before sacking with Spinecracker she'd told Skythane she needed a period of celibacy. Other reasons for leaving him could have been found but that had been the one that had jumped to the front of her mind. And it probably was a good idea. Her sexual drive did tend to control her. She hadn't really wanted to apprentice as a Justice; she'd wanted to stay with Skythane so she could bed him every night, and often as possible in the day. Along with whomsoever they fancied as a third.

  "You're right," Feldspar said again. "As usual."

  "Wouldn't go that far."

  "I would. I'm not going to share a pallet with anyone until the Adornments of Glory are safely back in Diluvia."

  The sky went black. Thunder pealed. The earth shook, throwing Feldspar sprawling to the ground. The shrine glowed with ethereal light.

  "Forgot where you were, I gather?" Grunt had managed to stay on her feet. "Remember, I didn't say that, she did!" she shouted to the darkened sky.

  Another violent tremor hit, tossing Grunt to the earth beside Feldspar. "Damn Prophesied. Not that I'm a lovelorn like you, I just like a good roll, but we'd damn well better find those damn Adornments pronto."

  Feldspar and Grunt reached the other side of Capitol as dusk fell. The inn closest to the forest was far less impressive than that of Square's clan, being two stories of weathered wood rather than solidly mortared stone. A sign nailed slightly askew over its front door proclaimed it to be 'Harlequin's Head'.

  "Do you know anything about this place, Grunt?"

  "Obviously run by human losers. You'll fit in."

  "I'm sorry." Feldspar sighed. She hadn't meant to swear to celibacy herself, much less bind Grunt to the same oath.

  "Sorry? You're pathetic."

  "I've never been to this part of Capitol," Feldspar continued, ignoring Grunt's interjection the best she could. "I'd gather this must be run by a variegated lodge."

  "Probably has fleas, maybe rats."

  In her travels with Skythane, Feldspar had stayed in many variegated establishments. Some were good and some weren't so good, which was also true of businesses run by the traditional, solid colour clans. "You're just worried they won't welcome a dwarf."

  "Nonsense. Hope they don't. Didn't damn well swear off brawling." Grunt started towards the door.

  Feldspar hurried to catch up. "You won't start anything?" Grunt didn't deign to answer.

  The common room was largely empty. Scatterings of humans were at the dining tables with a few serious drinkers on stools at the bar. Feldspar and Grunt made their way to the serving window.

  "What's on the menu?" Feldspar asked the man who greeted them there.

  "Rabbit stew and stew without rabbit."

  Feldspar and Grunt both opted for the vegetarian fare. In a strange lodge that was safer.

  "Don't see many elves in here," the server said as he dished out the food. It smelled good, perhaps a bit heavy on the onions.

  "How about dwarves?" Grunt asked, puffing out her already considerable chest. It didn't help. No one who didn't know her would think her a dwarf.

  "In a place where we motley humans hang out? Not likely. There you go, sister. So, are you busy later or are you and the elf an item?"

  "We're ascetics," Grunt said. "Acolytes of the virginal aspect of the Unknown. I pay." She handed the man a silver and got five coppers change. While he'd propositioned Grunt, his eyes had strayed to Feldspar and stayed there.

  They took a table away from the other diners. "It's only a matter
of time," Grunt said.

  "Until they figure out you're a dwarf?"

  "'Til they realise you're really the Prophesied gone slumming, not another wannabe." Grunt sniffed her spoon before tasting. "Not bad. Yup, seems they've already figured it out."

  The server was talking to the barkeeper. Both looked at Feldspar and then quickly away without meeting her eyes. "But I've never been here before," she said.

  "You said that earlier. Good stew. You should try it."

  "I don't think I look like an elf."