Nightlord: Shadows (72 page)

Once we hit the open road by the canal, however, Bronze hit her stride and we really started to move.

I still don’t know how Tianna can make that squeal of glee for half an hour, and I watched her do it. She needs to breathe. I know she does. Doesn’t she? Is this a talent all little girls have, or is it a fire-witch thing?

We passed a boatload of people headed toward the mountain; I noticed many of them were wizards, and I think I spotted Thomen in the group as we flashed past them in the opposite direction. Shortly afterward, we slowed for the gates of Mochara; nobody tried to stop us, question us, or even slow us down. All they did was salute. I wondered if that was for me, or for Tianna? Maybe they’re just getting the hang of this.

A short canter later, I slid off Bronze’s back and caught Tianna as Bronze rolled her out of a mass of bronze wire. She landed in my arms and I set her on her feet. She was still giggling.

It’s tempting to see if I can get her a motorcycle. She might like that nearly as much.

Amber wasn’t waiting for us, but we were a little early. Tianna took me by the hand and dragged me inside, clanked me down on a bench, and brought out something to drink. I didn’t argue with my hostess, especially since she was obviously trying to be my hostess. We discussed the possibility of her having her own room in Karvalen, other clothes, and so forth. Nothing she asked about was unreasonable, so I agreed to it all with the proviso that her mother also agreed.

I’m a grandfather. I’m allowed to spoil the grandkids. It’s in my contract.

When Amber came in, Tianna plowed into her to hug her and talk sixteen to the dozen about how she got to ride so fast, play with other kids, have a feast-dinner in a hall of gold, and so on. She talked fast enough to be an auctioneer and it was kind of fun to watch Amber fail to keep up with it all.

Eventually, Amber shushed Tianna and took her from the room. I smelled food, so I suppose Tianna was to eat lunch while we talked. I was right, because Amber came back in and sat down.

“Well, she seems none the worse for wear. She enjoyed her trip?”

“She did, I think,” I agreed. “And before you worry about the safety of other children, I had a spell on her to channel accidental pyrotechnics. As long as they played outside, everything was fine. You may find a bruise or two on her, though; kids are kids, and the courtyard is stone.”

“She isn’t hurt?”

“Not that I’ve noticed. Not that she’s noticed, either.”

“All right.”

There was a pause, and a silence. I smiled at Amber and nodded. She shifted on her bench and cleared her throat.

“I have had my talk with the Mother of Flame,” she said, finally.

“Good! What did she have to say?”

“It was an… interesting discussion,” Amber admitted. “I put your offer before Her, and She seems to approve.”

“Seems to?” I echoed.

“She does not object,” Amber clarified. “Perhaps it is better to say She does not seem to approve, but She also offers no
dis
approval.”

“Ah. So, it’s a case of ‘Do what you want, I don’t care’?”

“I think so.”

“Well, that’s fine. What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“No?”

“I am not certain I wish to rule,” she clarified. “I am a priestess, as well as a princess, but I do not really
think
of myself as a princess. I am a priestess of the Mother of Flame.” She shrugged. “That is what I was raised to be.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll find someone to be the civil authority. Can you keep the job until I find someone?”

“Yes, of course.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t even have candidates. I don’t even know where city hall is.”

“City hall?” she asked.

“The center of civil government in town.”

“Oh, the headquarters building for the city watch.”

“If you say so. I guess we’ll have to expand it a bit… and, I guess, I’ll need to interview the captain of the watch to see if he can handle the job.”

“He can’t,” Amber stated.

“Oh?”

She went on to explain how Captain Rendal was a good man, but also stodgy, no-nonsense, and a bit of a brass hat. That’s not how she put it, but there it is. Not really governor material, in short. Great for maintaining internal order and organizing the police, though. I wondered if I needed to build a police force for Karvalen, as well. Probably. We’re under martial law on the mountain and that might not be appropriate, later. It would wait for a while, though.

Amber recommended several citizens for interviews, though. We discussed what I was after and she narrowed her list. Eventually, she promised to arrange meetings for tomorrow night; I planned to be busy until then.

When I got up to leave, she rose with me an accompanied me outside.

“Shall I hold the mirror here, until you have a person and a place?” she asked.

“Oh, crap. That’s right. I meant to test it before I left.”

“Can you not test it from here?”

“Of course.” We went back inside and Amber showed me farther into her house than I’d been before. In a smaller, private sitting-room type area, the mirror was set on a narrow stone table and leaned against the wall. I looked into it and tried to activate it.

A fiery eye, blazing red and orange, filled the entirety of the mirror. It looked out at me with a black, vertical-slit pupil. It flicked to either side, looking around the room, then at me. Amber jumped.
I
jumped.

It’s a good spell, that scrying shield. More impressive than I realized. I’m going to have to strengthen the link between the mirrors, make it a dedicated channel, a shielded conduit, rather than just a connection. That’ll make it nearly useless for seeing anything else, but there are always trade-offs.

“Well, that’s not good,” I said.

“What
is
it?” Amber whispered, as though it could hear us.

“Oh. It’s a spell I have around the mountain to keep people from spying. I forgot that it would affect these,” I said, tapping the mirror’s frame. “I’ll have to take this one back to the mountain and see if I can work something out between the two. Will you mind if I wake you, tonight, to pick it up?”

“No, no; go ahead. But please, make that go away,” she said, nodding at the fiery eye. I shut the mirror down and it faded to reflection.

“Better?”

“Much,” she admitted, relieved. “Pick it up whenever you like.”

I remembered, also, to say goodbye to Tianna, and to promise that, whenever her mother would let her, she was welcome to visit—and so was her mother. Amber seemed pleased by this; she hugged me just before I mounted Bronze, which I did not expect. Maybe, since we were settling the major sources of conflict—religion and politics—she was feeling a little easier about having her estranged dad hanging around.

I’m not sure I really have a daughter, because I’m not sure I’m all that much of a father. But, maybe, someday, if Sparky doesn’t screw it up… and if
I
don’t screw it up…

I checked in with various people around Mochara. The wizards’ guild? Yes, the majority of them were off to the mountain to see about some project for the King.

Flim? Quite happy to be making extremely high-tension, laminated bows—ecstatic, even, to discover what a difference laminated members made. I told him about wire being superior to chain and he agreed that he would try it; I made a special stop by Wethel’s smithy to ensure Flim could get steel wire.

I didn’t quite threaten Wethel, but he’s apparently not entirely subject to rational argument. Money, yes; he’s subject to that. I didn’t mention the possibility of getting more smiths in Mochara and Karvalen. He wants to be mercenary about his prices, so I have no reason to warn him of changing economic circumstances. He just wants cash, so I pay him and don’t owe him anything.

It pays to be nice to your customers. Important tip.

Westward, then, along the new road. It was still growing along the cliff top. It reminded me of a growing crystal, actually. A narrow center grew constantly along the path of the road. It slowly expanded to the sides and down, becoming a useful path, then a narrow road, then a full road. As we hurried along it, I saw this in reverse by riding along a good road that gradually narrowed the closer we got to the head of it. We followed it to one side after it became a stone footpath and soon reached the westernmost point.

It’s always interesting to watch the mountain doing something with the stone. It really does remind me of crystal growth in many ways. Yet, looking at it, it’s more like some sort of nanotechnology that takes in dirt, rearranges it, and forms it into solid rock.

I gathered some loose rocks and stones and placed them in a line in front of the forward-growing spur. When the tip of the growing path touched the first rock, the rock immediately began to flatten and lengthen, extending farther forward much more rapidly. This quickly got the second and third and fourth stones involved, greatly extending the line. It didn’t widen any faster, but it obviously made much better progress wherever it actually had rock to work with.

I thought it would. Don’t bother asking how I knew it.

I wonder, could the mountain spread all over the world,
becoming
the world? Could the world turn into one giant, living, silicon-based organism? Surely, there must be some limiting factor. The power supply? Perhaps the proximity of the power supply? Or is there just a maximum size for a mountain, like there’s a maximum size for every other organism? Does the square-cube law apply to limit it? Or is there another law that might? Or does it just not have a size limit, and it
could
become the world?

One of the things I hate about being a vampire is the potential for biowarfare disaster. Have I accidentally created a potential
silicate
biowarfare disaster?

Nuts. As Scarlett once said, “I’ll think about it tomorrow.” Or maybe not at all. Some nightmares are best left alone.

We moved on to the Eastrange. The stonemasons and their crew were already quarrying stone for the road. I had them shift their emphasis; they were
quarrying
rocks, getting semi-flat slabs of stone, suitable for building material. All they needed was gravel and loose rock, and I told them so. That would multiply their production.

Bronze and I took what they had in their cart and headed back to spread it in the path of the oncoming road. She pulled the cart ahead of the road and I scooped stones out to leave a trail. The road oozed ahead like a mudslide made of stone.

We gave the cart back to them on our way into the Eastrange. I’d promised to mark out the trail of the road a bit more thoroughly, so we did.

The sun was well on the way to the horizon, a fact which gave me some small concern, when we skidded and slid down a slope toward Baret. It was a very nice view, I must admit. There’s something about a harbor with a few tall ships at anchor that just appeals to me. I don’t want to be on one, but I can appreciate their beauty from a safe distance—say, anywhere on dry land. They lose a lot of appeal when they’re underfoot. They’re kind of like cats, but with more sinking.

We emerged from the rocky, steep sections at the foot of the range and into the farmland around Baret. Behind us, I left a trail of magical markers; anyone with a decent sense for things magical would be able to simply see them with their second sight. I felt confident the mountain would be able to sense my magical imprint, which was the whole point of the exercise.

I rode up to the harbor district on the eastern side of Baret and hailed the gate. I needn’t have bothered; they saw me coming and had someone in nice armor already waiting. Probably the knight serving as officer of the day.

“Who are you that comes to Baret?” he demanded, through a metal cone. Having shouted at me, he held it to his ear to catch my reply.

Oh, for the love of…,
I thought.
I’m in no mood to shout a conversation.

Bronze and I continued to walk forward. I gestured, reaching out with a line of magic to establish a connection with his megaphone. Then I took off my helm, attached the line to it, and spoke into it, using it like a kid’s play-phone—two tin cans and a string.

“I’m Halar,” I said. “I’m the King of Karvalen, come to visit the Prince of Baret. I’ve just finished mapping out the road between our realms, and I would like to impose on his hospitality to the extent of a hot meal and a hot bath, if that’s not too much trouble.”

Judging by the sputtered expletives, I had surprised him with my voice-conduction spell. He also seemed doubtful as to my credentials.

I wasn’t in the best of moods. I was hot, dusty, and a little tired. Bronze wasn’t in all that great a mood, either; slipping and sliding on gravel and scree was trying on her nerves and mine. On the other hand, I
did
show up unannounced. If he didn’t know I was coming, whose fault was that? When some dusty vagabond comes out of the mountains and claims to be King of Oz, I’m going to be skeptical, too, if he hasn’t phoned ahead.

Grumbling, I pulled out a small mirror of polished steel, did the necessary work, and got the Wizard of Baret on the line. She looked startled—I don’t know why; maybe it’s just the idea of a king doing his own magic—and hurried to convey messages.

It wasn’t
too
much longer before they let me in. And, yes, the Prince’s hospitality would extend to a hot meal—dinner with the Prince—and a hot bath, preferably before dinner. And a little something for my horse—uh, what exactly would your horse like? Does it… you know,
eat?

I had a quick, hot bath before eating dinner with the Prince of Baret. Bronze got to munch on charcoal and metal scraps while stableboys went over her with scrub brushes. I think she got the better deal.

Prince Banler didn’t waste our time with pomp; he had a round, wooden table set for dinner. He sat opposite me, with his court wizard on his left and his youngest son—Danler—on his right. It was a good meal, I’ll admit that; Mochara and Karvalen have a long way to go before they get all gourmet on me. I didn’t bring up my aversion to strongly-flavored food; I just toughed it out and tried not to chew in a monstrous fashion.