Pouting, he trudged along at my side. I didn’t for one second imagine I had won the argument, he was just thinking of a different tactic to take.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have bought the second knife at the same time. I just knew from experience that if you didn’t teach a child a healthy respect for a knife’s edge, it would not go well later. I had a nice long scar on my arm to prove that.
Gill and Mary were seriously going to have their hands full with this one.
Rena beat us back to the hotel by a good margin. I found her in the downstairs dining area with a half-eaten plate of cake in front of her. Sometimes she gorged on sugar when things have gone terribly wrong, but in this case a smile lingered on her face that bordered on smugness. Whatever goal she had in mind, she’d apparently achieved it.
I leaned down to kiss her, a pleasure I indulged in often, then settled into the chair next to her. “You got that done quickly, if you’ve already had dinner.”
“No, I’m just having dessert first,” she responded, her attention going to the boy climbing into a chair next to me. “Well, Dagwood, I have to say that looks very sharp on you. It makes you look older.”
“Does it?” Dag patted his hair with a palm, pleased with this compliment.
Funny how children always wanted to be older, and adults always wanted to be younger. I wasn’t yet at the stage where I wanted to be a different age, but I imagined it would creep up on me eventually. “So, wifey, what are you so smug about?”
“I asked very nicely what our accommodations would be for the trip up there, and they’re sending me free train tickets, a hotel pass good for two nights at a specific hotel, and the foreman is to meet us at the train station in three days,” she informed me before popping another piece of chocolate cake in her mouth.
“Of course,” I responded dryly, because this woman could convince a beggar to give her the shirt off his back and leave him the impression she’d just done him a favor. If Z’gher would just hand the national budget over to Rena, their financial crisis would be solved within a year. I could guarantee it. “Well, that’s heartening news. I do enjoy trips I don’t have to pay for.”
“Right?” she agreed amiably. “And how did the training go?”
“I’m talented,” Dag informed her seriously.
Rena, to her credit, only blinked before accepting this very boastful declaration. “Are you, now? Bannen said so?”
“I did,” I confirmed, trying to catch the eye of a waiter so I could order food. The lunch at the café had been light and hours ago. I was half-starved at this point. “He’s got good reflexes, good balance, and knows how to think. Smart people make the best fighters. I bought him a knife—” seeing the alarm on her face, I hastily added, “—two knives, one of which has a dull edge, one sharp. If he properly handles the dull knife, then I’ll give him the sharp one.”
Relieved, she nodded. “Sensible.”
Proving he’d been thinking of counterarguments, Dag inserted hopefully, “I promise not to stab people.”
“It’s not just people I’m worried about, kiddo,” I informed him. I remembered being eight with a knife in my hand. Everything had turned into a target. “Rule stays. You don’t go stabbity with the knife you’ve got, you’ll earn the other one before Turranksy.”
Letting out a forlorn sigh, Dag’s shoulders slumped and he went back to pouting.
Seriously. Kids. I’d have to keep an eye on him so he didn’t find a way to sharpen that knife. In his shoes, at his age, that would have been my next game plan.
Finally I caught a waiter’s attention and we ordered dinner. Dag’s pouting did not last long enough to interfere with his appetite, although he didn’t eat enough to really satisfy me. Rena seemed to take his pickiness in stride, so I let it go. Kid would eat when he got hungry. My job was to make food available regularly.
The hotel brought a cot up into our room, settled at the end of the bed, for Dag. I liked this hotel chain because the rooms always had enough space to put extra cots in, the beds were usually soft enough to actually sleep on, and everything was clean. Most hotels of my acquaintance couldn’t boast all of that. This one for some reason had been painted in various shades of yellow, but other than the questionable color scheme, I had no complaints.
We took turns in the attached bathroom getting ready for the night. While Dag washed up, I sat on the bed next to Rena and conferred in a low voice, “So he actually prefers to be called Dag. Apparently Dagwood was his grandfather’s name, so he feels like it’s an old man’s name.”
“Ah. Got it.” She sat with her hip touching mine, voice also low. “He didn’t give you any trouble after we split up?”
“Not a lick. He’s well mannered for his age, just rambunctious. And I can handle rambunctious. You seriously don’t mind him going up with us?”
She waved this concern away. “It’ll be an easy job and it gives him a chance to see more of the country. That will be crucial later on.”
“True enough. It seems like that’s all MISD mages do, is travel. Did you send word to Mary and Gill?”
“I did, although of course the message will take a little longer to get to them. I told them where I’d be in two days, so hopefully they can send a message ahead.” Rena shrugged, and I understood. Telegram tag was always a fun game to play when throwing travel into the mix.
“What about the MISD?”
“Ah, Salvatore and I did talk about Dag. He said he’ll gladly pay for the apprenticeship fees with the understanding that Dag is contracted to work for them for five years after passing the Tests. Apparently the MISD do this on a fairly regular basis. He’ll have the paperwork shipped over to Mary’s and to Dag’s parents so everyone can sign it. He understands that I’ll bring Dag to Mary myself after we report in and sign our official paperwork.” Making a face, she admitted, “I wish we could just portal from one place to another instead of doing all of this traveling.”
“No way to do it, not with all of our luggage and three people.” The limits of portal magic drove me crazy at times. It took an insane amount of magic just to send people through, never mind everything else. It’s why the MISD constantly sent their people to various places via trains and ships. They’d wear out their mages in transportation magic otherwise.
Groaning, she acknowledged, “I know. I just wish someone would come up with a better method.”
Dag came out of the bathroom, hair wet, clothes sticking a little due to not properly drying himself after getting out of the bath. He stared at us uncertainly, as if not sure how to take us whispering to each other.
Extending a hand, Rena caught his arm and drew him in a little closer, including him in the conversation. “I reached my boss today and told him about you. He said the MISD will cover your fees, so you’ll be an MISD agent when you grow up.”
Pleased by this news, Dag grinned, bouncing lightly on his toes. “With the uniform? And a sword?”
“Absolutely.” Rena didn’t point out that as a mage, he wouldn’t need a sword. Smart woman, to avoid that argument. “Tomorrow, on the train, let’s start working on controlling your eyes, alright?”
Making a face, he agreed reluctantly. “Okay.”
“And in between you doing that, we’ll work on close-quarters fighting,” I threw in, knowing very well that we’d have to wear the kid out somehow or he’d find things to get into.
Brightening perceptibly, he agreed happily, “Okay.”
Nuance was a wonderful thing. It took the same word and made it clear which one he really wanted to do. Rena shook her head, resigned, and shooed him to bed with both hands. His heart might be on physical fighting, but I had an idea he’d catch onto the magical end of it soon enough.
Traveling with a child presented certain challenges I hadn’t prepared for. Bannen seemed to know what to expect and had a list of things for Dag to do throughout the journey, which kept the kid from literally climbing the walls. When he needed a break, we’d switch out, and I woul
d throw mental puzzles and pre-magical training at Dag. Because of him, I only got to read one of the three books I’d brought along for this trip.
My mother once told me that children were very distracting. Understatement of the century.
Still, the ride north wasn’t a bad one, and I knew when we got close. I recognized a few landmarks, and then we got into the mountainous region of Cloudland. The mountains here were steep—sometimes almost treacherously so. The railroads had tried to build a tunnel through them before but failed, hence why they’d built a track around the base of them. The attempt happened fifty years ago, so I wasn’t sure what the story was on that first failure, but apparently they thought my magic would get them through the obstacle.
We arrived at Mountain Point Station mid-afternoon. I had never felt so relieved to get off a train in my life. After nearly doing nothing but traveling, my back felt like one long knot of tension. Stepping off onto the train platform, I moved out of the way so that other people could unload and stretched my arms over my head. The stretch helped only a little. I’d have to talk Bannen into working me loose tonight, if we had enough privacy in the construction site to allow that. Mountain Point was the only town within miles and it was, unfortunately, also a fair distance from our worksite. It would take a three-hour ride by cart to go up the mountain and reach our final destination. I had no idea what our accommodations were going to be, just that we would stay in Mountain Point overnight. We’d head out early in the morning with the foreman.
Which was really a shame, as that didn’t give us much time to really see the town, and it looked charming. It had all sorts of cute little shops with different wares, restaurants, and the like. They were all dainty in shape, the store fronts wide open to accommodate the summer weather, with some of the wares displayed right on the sidewalk. It apparently thrived on tourists, as everything looked neat as a pin and the colors of the buildings were pretty and attention-grabbing. It might be a small population of four thousand people altogether, but I bet every street looked picture perfect at all times.
Dag came to stand at my side, looking around in avid curiosity. “This the place?”
“Not quite,” I corrected. “See that mountain looming over us? We’re going up there.”
“How far?”
“I’m not sure,” I confessed, staring at the rather steep mountain slope with consideration. “Not far up, I think. It doesn’t make sense to go up something that steep and then go through it. But we have to get to the base of the mountain, and I understand that’s a bit of a trip.”
Dag frowned at me, turned to stare at the mountain again, then pointed at it. “But it’s right there.”
“Distances like these are tricky,” I explained, not sure how to put this into words he’d understand. “Big things like this? Because they’re so big, they look close, but it will actually take some time to reach it. About three hours, or so I understand.”
He did not seem sold and the frown deepened, pulling his eyebrows together into an almost solid line. “That long?”
“That’s what the telegram said.” The almost cryptically worded telegram. Granted, every word cost money, so people sent very short messages, but the man I’d exchanged information with was brusque to the point of rudeness. I dearly wished I’d been able to hold that conversation in person, but he’d refused to pay for a mirror conversation.
Perhaps because of the odd exchange, it made the job seem a little strange. I had the uneasy feeling I hadn’t been told something crucial about this job, or there was something they chose to leave out. Although I couldn’t imagine what. I still didn’t think it dangerous, but I harbored a notion or three that it would not take the four or five days I’d mentally allotted. We might very well be late taking Dag to his new master.
I stopped on the platform so Bannen could catch up with us. As I stood there, I studied our surroundings, trying to get my bearings. We were scheduled to meet up with the foreman at—wait, what? Stepping closer to the sign board, I read it through quickly. Petition to stop all construction on the railroad? And it had a good two hundred signatures on it.
Did we not have the necessary rights to work here? No, surely not. I wouldn’t have gotten permission from the MISD to come up here if they didn’t have the proper work permits.
Right?
Bannen caught up to us, bags in hand, carrying the heavy and awkward things as if it were no real burden. My husband’s strength never ceased to amaze me. I gave him a smile. “All in hand?”
“Got everything,” he assured me with a quick smile of his own.
“Bannen,” I pointed to the petition, gave him a second to read through it himself. “That worries me.”
Blinking, he put the luggage down to free up a hand, flipping the top two sheets to scan all of the signatures. “Yeah, no kidding. What kind of crap is this? We do have authority to work up here, right?”
“I’ve seen all the right paperwork for it, but I’m starting to wonder. Is this just a protest from the people in the area? Why, though? The bypass might affect their business some, but they’re still the one of the few towns in between Privita and Gargan. For travelers, it’s still one of the few places to stop and rest. And right now they’re on a smaller line, the bypass would give them a main line.” It might affect their bottom line some, granted, but not that much. Surely not enough to protest like this. Unless there was something else going on I wasn’t seeing?
Bannen’s mouth dipped down into a frown. “Where’s this foreman?”
“He’s supposed to meet us for lunch at a place called The Corner Market. We’re a little early, so I suggest we go to a bathing house and get a good soak in before we spend the next week camping out.” My favorite thing ever in Z’gher were the public bathing houses. I could, and have, stayed in one for three days straight and refused to come out.
Knowing my feelings on this, Bannen eyed me sideways. “You realize you have an hour, max, that you can spend in there.”
“I know,” I assured him placidly.
“You also know that if you don’t come out within that hour, I will come in after you,” he warned with a glint in his eye.
He would, too. “Yes, yes.”
“Alright. Let’s go find one, then. We can ask our questions about this petition when we meet up with the foreman.”
After a blissful hour in a hot tub, I no longer felt so stiff. It took willpower to pull myself out of the bath and into clothes again, but I didn’t regret it. It seriously might be the last bath I saw for the next week. Washing with a cloth and pitcher of water was not the same, not even remotely.
Perhaps I should talk Bannen around to putting an open-air bath in our backyard.
I came out of the public bathhouse to find both boys waiting. The area across the street held a small park with benches and such, and they’d commandeered one of them. Dag sat upside down with his head hanging over the edge. Didn’t the blood rush hurt? Apparently not.
Bannen greeted me with the wave of a hair brush, an open invitation if I ever saw it. I nearly skipped across the street, bundling my dirty clothes under my arm as I went. “Yes, please.”
“Right bag’s open if you want to stick them in there,” he instructed.
I knelt and crammed my clothes inside, then promptly locked it shut. We’d have to do laundry after this job—it was going to get desperate soon. But it wasn’t a worry I had to think about just yet. I scooted about to sit on the bench so that Bannen could braid my damp hair. “Can you do the crown plait?”
“Sure.”
Those magic hands came into my hair, combing, twisting, flipping it. I always loved it when he did this, it felt good. I let my eyes fall mostly closed and enjoyed the sensation.
“Don’t start with me, Dag,” Bannen warned, a near growl in his voice.
“Sissy,” Dag stated smugly.
What was this? I opened my eyes, not daring to turn my head, and saw from my peripheral vision Dag making smug faces at Bannen, even
going so far as to stick his tongue out at one point.
“You brat.” Bannen shifted his weight—I could feel the tension through his fingers—then his leg snapped out and he knocked Dag sideways on the bench, making the boy squeal and laugh.
With his head on the wooden bench, his legs nearly on the ground, Dag twisted about to point and laugh again. “Sissy!”
“Do not fight around my head,” I warned the two of them. “I will make your hair disappear if you even try it.”
Both of them paused and stared at me. Well, I couldn’t see Bannen, but I felt his gaze on the back of my head. Dag’s mouth screwed up, one eye squinting. “She wouldn’t really.”
“She totally would,” Bannen disagreed with complete conviction.
Still seeming half-sold on this, Dag drew his head back a little, righting himself on the bench. “You’re afraid of a girl?”
“Kid, let me tell you an age-old wisdom. A wise man both loves and fears his wife. He lives longer.”
Dag just looked at him, in the cynical way only children could manage. “You’re afraid of her because she can kill monsters like that,” he said with a snap of the fingers.
“No,” Bannen corrected blithely, “I especially fear my wife because I’ve seen her take down monsters with a lazy blink of the eye. But don’t think she’s above extracting revenge. She’ll make you bald and laugh about it for days.”
Amused by their exchange, I decided not to say anything, just let them roll on without me. Bannen made a show sometimes of ‘being afraid of my wife’ but he knew good and well I’d never harm a hair on his head. Pranks in the middle of the night, now, that was another matter altogether.
The last pin went in, securing the braid to my head, and I gave it an experimental shake to make sure it was secure and would hold. Nothing budged. Perfect. Standing, I brushed the seat of my pants off, mostly out of reflex. “Thanks, honey. Alright, shall we find our hotel and go get dinner? I expect the foreman should be there soon.”
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