Tinker t-1

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Tinker t-1 Page 22

by Wen Spencer


  It confirmed her family legend of caves being gates. Tinker suspected that a mineral deposit running through quartz next to a strong ley line could mimic the hyperphase field of a man-made gate. Like the gate in space, the power needed to be supplied to only one side to create two-way travel. Based on what Windwolf told her about gravity affecting magic, then perhaps ley lines had «tides» which would cause the gates to occasionally fail.

  Pony plunged on. "While we bent our minds to shaping magic, humans learned to forge bronze and then steel. For goods we could not make ourselves, we walked the Pathways to Earth. We kept close to the Pathways and traveled heavily cloaked and mostly at night, for without magic we lived a breath away from death. But the risks were always well rewarded with rich trade goods."

  Obviously Pony was using the historic «we» since the Pathways had mysteriously failed prior to the 1700s, and he had just hit his majority.

  "But some of these Pathways led to Onihida," Tinker guessed.

  "In a manner, yes." Pony scratched at the back of his head, pondering how to—as Tooloo put it—compress history into a teaspoon. "Where a Pathway opened on Earth, magic would flow out. While humans would only find a Pathway through blind luck, a domana could sense it from a distance. Still maps were made to keep careful track of the Pathways. One day on Earth, a domana found a Pathway that was not on our maps. Nor, when the matching location was investigated on Elfhome, could it be found where it opened. A group adventurous in spirit decided to investigate where the Pathway led. Twenty journeyed out, only two returned."

  "The oni killed them?"

  Pony nodded. "At first, the explorers had thought they'd somehow traveled to Elfhome, for Onihida—unlike Earth—flows rich with magic. Then they realized that the plants and the animals were unknown to them, and showed signs of being spell-worked." The elfin way of saying the object had been bioengineered. "Whereas on Earth, they would have easily traveled undetected, wards revealed their presence, and they were surrounded before they could flee back to Earth. The oni lords 'invited' them to a nearby fortress. The explorers were treated well, served rich foods, and offered beautiful whores. The oni called them their brothers and tried to deceive them, but a dragon always shows his teeth when he smiles."

  "The oni wanted to know where the gate to Earth was?"

  "Natural gates apparently were usually quite small." Pony measured out four feet with his hand. "Many only wide enough to take a pack horse through, and sometimes much smaller." He reduced the width to only two feet. "They were within dark caves, and like the veil effect," he waved his hand about to take in the house around him, shoved from Earth into Elfhome, "invisible. Anyone without the ability to detect a ley line could search closely, even to the point of stepping in and out of worlds, and never find it. Like the elves prior to the birth of domana, no oni passing through a gate to Earth had ever returned."

  So that the oni didn't realize a gate wasn't just a deathtrap to be avoided until the elves showed up. "Obviously the explorers didn't reveal its location."

  "At first, they easily evaded the questions, for they did not know the oni language, and deliberately misunderstood their gestures and the demands for maps to be drawn. But they were forcibly detained, taught the tongue, and asked more directly. Then they were tortured, then healed, and tortured again until their minds broke."

  "That's horrible!" Tinker shuddered. "But the gate only led to Earth. The elves could have given it up to the oni without risking Elfhome."

  Pony stood to pace. "The oni had spell-worked their warriors to be far stronger than the average man. What's more, they had discovered the secrets of self-healing and immortality, yet continued to breed like mice. With their numbers and abilities, they would have flooded Earth unchecked."

  "I'm surprised that the elves cared that much about Earth."

  "The explorers had traveled Earth for centuries; some had taken human lovers and sired half-breed children." He leaned against the banister to give her a soulful look. She found herself suddenly aware of his eyes, dark and full of sincere concern. "We have always seen humans as our reflection, good and bad. Man was how gods made the elves before the Skin Clan remade them."

  Pony spoke with the same bitterness as Tooloo used while explaining the origin of the domana as the ruling caste.

  "If elves hate the Skin Clan so much, why hasn't spell-working been banned?"

  "It was for a while. Blight struck our main grain crop, though, and a great famine followed, so one of our most holy ones, Tempered Steel, petitioned for reform. Evil lies in the heart of elves, not in magic."

  This was one bit of elfin history she knew—learned from puppet shows during the Harvest Faire—only she had never understood the full context. Much was made that Tempered Steel was a sekasha monk, which made sense now, since a domana's motives for bringing back spell-working would have been questionable. The creation of keva beans was linked to Tempered Steel's reform, saving the elves from starvation.

  "Two of the explorers survived?" She steered the conversation back to the oni.

  "Two escaped, reached the gate and returned to Elfhome. Once their tale was told, sekasha were sent to destroy the gate from Onihida to Earth, and then systematically all gates from Earth to Elfhome were destroyed."

  "That seems rather drastic."

  Pony clicked his tongue. "They say an elfin carpenter is more thorough than a human one, for he has forever to hammer down nails."

  "Did they warn travelers first?"

  "We had no way of contacting all the far-flung traders."

  Thus her elfin ancestor and Tooloo were trapped on Earth. While long lived, without a source of magic, even elves age and die.

  Pony half-turned, head cocked. "Someone is coming."

  There were footsteps on the porch, and the front door opened. Oilcan paused in the doorway, surprised to find Tinker and Pony in the foyer, focused on his arrival. He tried for nonchalant but Tinker could read the tension in him. "Hey."

  "Hey." Tinker held out her hand to him. "I got back early too."

  He lifted his arm to take her hand and allowed her to pull him warily into the room. "Is it good?"

  He meant the news about the tests.

  "It's good." Tinker gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. "Everything's cool."

  The tension flooded out of him with a huge sigh, and he grinned hugely at her. "Ah, that's great."

  "Lain's making lunch."

  "And she's finished," Lain called from the kitchen. "Come eat while it's hot."

  * * *

  The EIA was located in the Pittsburgh Plate Glass corporate headquarters, the Rim having cut it off from all of PPG's factories and most of its customers. The building was a fairy castle done as a modern glass skyscraper. Pony parked the Rolls in the open courtyard, ignoring all the "No Parking" signs. Tinker wasn't sure if he couldn't read English, or if such things didn't apply to the viceroy's car.

  There seemed to be some protocol to walking together. Outside she hadn't noticed it, but as she wandered about the crowded lobby, looking for an office directory and gathering odd looks, Pony tried matching her step in awkward starts and stops.

  "Do you know where Maynard's office is?" she snapped finally.

  "This way, ze domi." Pony led her to the elevators, where she gathered a few more double takes before the elevator's doors closed them off from curious stares.

  What tipped people off that she was now an elf? Her ears weren't really visible, and certainly her hair was in the same «pure» hairstyle as always. It had to be the eyes—the shape and vivid color. She made a mental note to get a pair of sunglasses.

  They hit the top floor, the doors opened and Pony pushed back an EIA employee by mere presence. It was still startling to see Pony go from invisible to in-your-face in a blink of an eye. After assuring himself that the floor was clear of menace, he allowed Tinker off.

  On second thought, it probably wasn't anything about her tipping people off, it was the six-foot-something el
fin guard.

  The space beyond the elevator was small, elegant, and tastefully decorated to elfin sensibilities. The only furniture was two chairs for waiting visitors, and a receptionist desk staffed with a woman pretty enough to be mistaken for a high-caste elfin female.

  "I'd like to see Director Maynard, if I can."

  The woman was definitely staring at Pony as she asked, "And you are?"

  Tinker gave the receptionist her name—making the woman's eyes go wide as if this were some startling news—and added, "Tell him it's very important that I see him."

  Maynard came out of his office, saying, "Where have you been—" He took in first Pony's presence and then her new eyes. "Tinker?"

  "Tinker ze domi," Pony corrected Maynard.

  Maynard flashed a look back to Pony and then bowed to Tinker. "Tinker ze domi. It is good to see you're safe."

  Oh, this couldn't be good if Maynard was doing it too.

  A few moments later Tinker was in Maynard's office and, with careful maneuvering, Pony was not.

  "I need language lessons," Tinker complained, ranging his office nervously. The reason for the tiny foyer was Maynard's office seemed to take up a large portion of the top floor. Must be a bitch to heat in the winter, although the AC seemed to work fine. The wall of windows looked out over the North Shore to the elfin forest beyond.

  "I thought you spoke Elvish." Maynard anchored the conversation to his desk by sitting down behind it.

  "Tooloo taught me like any elf would, cryptically. I would like a more direct routine, like a dictionary! I want to know for sure I understand what the hell is going on, instead of walking around thinking I know but probably getting it all wrong."

  "Such as?"

  "What the hell is this whole ze domi, ze domou, ze domou ani? I thought it was like Mr. and Ms., only politer. And what exactly does husepavua mean?"

  "Husepavua literally means 'loaned voice'; figuratively it means an assistant. Lifted Sparrow By Wind is Windwolf's husepavua. Sedoma is the word for 'one who leads. Domou is 'lord. Domi is 'lady. Ze denotes a level of formality. Ani/Ana indicates the tie between the speaker and the noble. When it's Ana it means the speaker doesn't share a tie with that lord or lady. Ani means the speaker and the person he or she is addressing shares a tie with the noble. Basically 'my lord' or 'our lord. »

  My Lady Tinker. That's what Pony had been calling her. And the elves at the enclave. All the little presents. She'd nearly forgotten that. May I wish you merry, my lady.

  Her knees went, and luckily there was a chair close enough to collapse into. "Am I—am I—married to Windwolf?"

  "It seems a very strong possibility." Maynard spoke with what seemed like exaggerated care. "What exactly has happened since you left the Faire with Windwolf?"

  She was surprised for a moment that he knew her movements and then remembered that he was the head of the EIA. "We went north to his hunting lodge and… and" — she swept a hand down over herself to indicate the transformation—"he cast this spell on me and I woke up yesterday like this. Pony says that Windwolf was called back to Aum Renau, and that he ordered Pony to guard me, so Pony hasn't left my side since yesterday. He slept on the floor of my bedroom last night. I think he slept."

  Maynard winced slightly. "Yes, a very strong possibility that you're married to Windwolf."

  She sat there stunned for a few minutes. Maynard got up, opened a cabinet to expose a small bar, and poured out a drink for her. She eyed the clear liquid, dubious after the beer, but it was strong and sweet and burned its way down. After she drank it, she realized it was the same stuff that the elves at the enclaves had used to toast her during Nathan's date—only it tasted much better now. "What was that?"

  "Ouzo. Anisette liqueur. The elves love it."

  She groaned as she realized that the elves had toasted her marriage in front of Nathan. Oh, thank goodness he hadn't understood what was going on—a pity she hadn't known either. "I just want to know when I supposedly agreed to all this. I didn't ask him to do this." She meant making her an elf. "At least I don't think I did. And I know there wasn't any wedding."

  "You probably accepted a gift from him?" Maynard made it a question, clueing her.

  "Well, there was this weird brazier that he gave me. That's when he marked me."

  Maynard pinched the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a headache. "I'm guessing that the brazier was a betrothal gift. Windwolf offered marriage—and everything it entails—and you accepted. When he put the dau mark on you, you were, in essence, married."

  "You're kidding."

  "In elfin culture, it is offering and acceptance that are important. Everything else, as we humans are wont to say, is icing on the cake."

  "That's it? No priest? No church? No vows? No blood test?" Well, strike that. Pony had said that Windwolf gave her a blood test.

  "That your word of honor is binding is the keystone of elfin society."

  "I don't know if I want to be married to him! What if I want to get out of it? Do elves have divorce?"

  "Frankly, I don't know." He sighed. "I'm sorry, but the last thing I want to do is to disturb the marital bliss of the viceroy. That would be bad for relations between the two races."

  "Are you saying that you can't help me?"

  "No." Then he clarified himself. "I'm not saying that." He spoke slowly, obviously studying what he'd say before speaking, looking for traps. "This is a very delicate situation. On one hand I'm going to have humans, on Elfhome and Earth, see this in the worst possible light. And on the other side, any complaints might seem to be questioning Windwolf's honor."

  "Big whoop-de-do!"

  "Windwolf is acting head of the Wind Clan in the Westernlands."

  It irritated Tinker that she had such an incomplete understanding of elfin society. She knew that there were clans and castes and households and families but, like most humans, could never get a clear picture of how they all worked. While she knew that major clans were named after the four elements, and that there were lesser clans, she'd only met elves from the Wind Clan. They had names like Lifted Sparrow By Wind, Galloping Storm Horse On Wind—and Wolf Who Rules Wind. As a child, she'd assumed that «Wind» meant they were part of the same family, until Tooloo explained that it denoted clan alliance, that most clan members were not related, and that a family usually shared the same clan, but not necessarily always. Clear as mud, as her grandfather would say.

  What Tooloo had taught her thoroughly was the elfin code of honor. You kept your word, and you never implied that an elf's word wasn't as solid as cash. A single slur could pit you not only against the elf you insulted, but all the elves «beholden» to them. Implying that the head of a clan wasn't honorable would be slurring the entire clan, in this case, all the elves in the Westernlands.

  "Let's start with the simple things first," Maynard said. "Are you in love with Windwolf? Do you want to be married to him?"

  If those were the simple questions, then they were in trouble. Life as an elf was easier to imagine than being married. What did married people even do when not having sex?

  Maynard sat, waiting for her to decide, saying nothing to sway her.

  "I don't know," she finally admitted. "I've never been in love before; I don't know if I'd recognize it when I felt it."

  "But it's a possibility?"

  "It would be easier for you if I said yes."

  "Yes, it would, but I'm not going to close my eyes to a rape, if that was what it was."

  "No!" Tinker squirmed in her chair. "I can take care of myself. I wanted him. I just didn't expect this!"

  "I've heard you speak low tongue; you're extremely fluent. Windwolf might have assumed that you knew his culture better than you do based on your fluency of his language."

  "Well, I don't. I can't believe that there's nothing in the treaty to cover this." Tinker pushed back hair to expose her ear. "You made laws against this, didn't you?"

  "We didn't know the elves could do this," Maynard said quietly, "in
order to prevent it. Is that why you're here? Do you want charges pressed?"

  "No. At least I don't think so. Depends. I haven't had a chance to talk to Windwolf yet."

  "Why are you here?"

  Tinker shifted in her chair. "It's weird. Before this, if I found something out, I'd consider things in a 'me versus the EIA' way. What do I get out of it? Will I get into trouble knowing this? Will this bring the EIA down on me? And now—maybe I'm afraid people will think I've changed loyalties as well as my ears."

  "What did you learn?"

  "There were, might still be, natural gates on Elfhome. It's a matter of getting magic to resonate on the right frequency, and you open up a wormhole to another dimension. Most of Westernlands is unexplored, so there might be gates here that the elves don't know about."

  "Between Elfhome and Earth."

  "Or someplace else," she said. "We have legends of more than just the elves. In Japan, the people from other worlds are known as the oni. Pony told me this morning that the oni are from Onihida, and they're the main reason that elves stopped trading with humans a millennium ago. The oni are very tall, and red haired, with a grudge against the elves."

  "Windwolf's attackers."

  "Somewhere, there's a gate to a third world open, and the oni are coming through. They're here, in Pittsburgh."

  "Does Windwolf know?"

  Tinker considered and nodded. "I think he might. Certainly, it might be the reason that the queen of the elves is in the Westernlands."

  9: A Gathering Of Wyverns

  There, she had done her duty to the human race, and reported her suspicions to Maynard. Only it didn't make her feel better. She'd repeated Pony's story and Tooloo's history lesson and gone away feeling like an alarmist circulating dangerous rumors. Maynard had nothing he was willing to add to her news, so she left still in the dark and feeling grumpy.

  On top of that, it felt ridiculous to ride into the scrap yard in the back of the Rolls-Royce: the elegance of the car rolling into the lot of wrecked machines, and her handed out like a fairy princess. She was tempted to kick Pony just to protect her junkyard-dog image. Checking the impulse, she unlocked the offices, disarmed the security system, and got gently put aside so Pony could check out the offices.

 

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