Nightlord: Orb (25 page)

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Authors: Garon Whited

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“Of course,” I replied, instead.  “I wouldn’t dream of it.  How much do I owe you?”

He glared at me as though he wanted to push me around some more, but he held himself in check.  I would guess it’s bad for business to continue roughing up the customer when he agrees to pay.  He named a figure.  I looked at the woman.

“How much did
I
already give you?” I asked.  She caught the emphasis and didn’t argue about identity.  She fished money out of the bedside table, counted it out into the guy’s palm.  I counted out the difference—hookers are expensive, it seems—and added another hundred.

“My way of saying I have no complaints at all,” I told him.  I turned to her.  “Thank you for a wonderful evening.  Goodnight,” I finished, and walked out the door.

With the door shut behind me, I stopped and waited beside it, listening.  She didn’t sound in trouble; he seemed more upset by the delay than by anything anyone did to/with/for her.  Their business.  I went back to my room with the firm intention of minding my own.

Boss, you
always
think you’re going to mind your own business.

“Shut up.”

Still want me to tell you if I hear a damsel in distress?

I muttered something about smartass swords.

Is that a yes or a no, Boss?

“Yes.”

See?

“Did I already say to shut up?”

Firebrand shut up.

Wednesday, October 28
th

 

They rearranged the design of a big chunk of garden.  A large, squarish section was suddenly redone in a geometric sort of thing—a square with a circle inside it.  The circle touched the square on all four sides.  Is that circumscribed?  Or is that an incircle?  I always get those confused. I draw a thousand magic circles and containment diagrams and I still can’t remember which is which.  Jon would doubtless have something sarcastic to say about it.  Then again, Jon would have something sarcastic to say about anything.

Watching them lay down paving stones gave me a couple of ideas.  While the circle itself was a gravel path—hard to break that without a shovel and determination—I still needed to put symbols or runes around the thing.  I started scratching them on concrete paving bricks.  It took longer, but that was fine by me. I would have to spend another night on the West Coast, anyway; I wasn’t going to try and fly back while undead.  I don’t know how well I’d react to airport security, or them to me.

Once we had the paving stones laid in, I finished some preliminary work, went away for an hour or two to change, and came back after dark.  I waved Firebrand around at bit; it obliged by flickering a little flame for theatrics on the big, sweeping gestures.  Anyone trying to copy my “ritual” was going to have a bad time of it.

Still, I got it done.  They seemed happy with it, although the garden itself still needed work.  We had a brief introduction on the uses of an Ascension Sphere, they checked the magical levels inside and out, confirmed it was working, thanked me, and shook hands all around.  They seemed quite pleased.

I went back to my hotel, made sure of my early flight, and watched more television.

It seems to me I’ve been working pretty constantly on everything.  Spending some time sitting around doing nothing at all is pretty nice, too.  Maybe I should make more of an effort to relax.  There’s so much to do, though… but, really, is there so much that needs doing
right now
?  Or am I trying to get ahead of the curve?

Sure, I want to work out a cheaper, easier gate between worlds.  But Karvalen isn’t happy with me and won’t be for a while.  Finding a universe with enough magic to be useful, enough technology to be comfortable, and people who don’t hate bloodsucking monsters might take a while—do I have to get right on it?  Or will a few days, or a few weeks, really matter?

I also need to find a way to destroy the Thing in the Black Ball.  Since this world doesn’t yet have commercial garbage disposal via rocket into the Sun, that might have to wait.  For the moment, it’s contained in multiple layers of protection.  It seems pretty safe.

Bronze is disguised and has a cover story; she gets to run whenever she feels like it and she seems to be entertained by the Fabulous Four.

Hmm.  Maybe I should get a television for the barn.  I could rig something for channel controls she could work with hooves—switches she can step on, maybe, for channel and volume.  She might like that.  I’m not sure she’s ever seen a television.  Come to that, she’s a golem; I’m not sure how her sensory equipment works.  Can she watch television?  I might have to work on that.

I think about taking things easier and I come up with new projects.  This is why I don’t relax.  Well, demon attacks, assassins, and a variety of other nastiness might have something to do with it, too.

Thursday, October 29
th

 

I was glad to get home.  Nobody broke in, nobody left any irate letters or bills, and nobody blew it up.  Everything seemed exactly as I left it.  Bronze reported a complete lack of adventure on the property, aside from the usual hayloft invasions by the Four.

I’m still not sure if I’m surprised or suspicious.  I don’t know what I was expecting, but
quiet
wasn’t it.

She didn’t know what happened down the street, though, so I had to go ask. I got the story from Myrna, of course, but Susan and Larry contributed to my understanding, as well as Luke’s father, Brandon, and most of the rest of my street.

On Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, a fire broke out at Gary’s house.  The building went up in nothing flat.  Mark and Gary survived it, though.  Mark was burned rather badly getting Gary out; Gary wasn’t unscathed, either.  Both of them were in the hospital.  The police thought it was arson.

How much of that is my fault?  Is any of it?  Did I prompt it by persuading Mark to quit his crime business, whatever it was?  Was this someone’s way of saying it was a bad career choice?  Or did someone simply assume the factory fire was arson and reciprocate, after a little detective work?  Or am I dealing with something supernatural?  There was a vampiress at the party; I never did find out what relationship, if any, she had to the management.

Since the authorities took down the plastic ribbons that marked the ruins of the house as off-limits, I did some snooping that night.  The house was ruined, but a few blackened walls remained.  That was enough to conceal me from prying eyes.

Pyromancy is the magical art of divination by using fire.  I spent some time in a magic circle, put a spell on a candle, and brought the magic compass box.  The candle gave me a fire for visions at the site of the previous fire; the magic compass box gave something to link the visions to for directions.

At least, such was theory.  While it did work—I clearly saw two men firebomb the house—they didn’t leave enough of an imprint on the area to grab.  I couldn’t impress either of them on the compass needle; they didn’t leave behind enough of a psychic fingerprint.  I think they lacked any strong feelings about the matter.  That, in itself, was information—a professional might regard it as just another job.  The imprint was strong enough if I saw them again, I would recognize them, but I needed something more to locate them.  Since I didn’t have that, I’d have to go do legwork.

While I was staring into the heart of the candle, trying to wring a little more clarity from the vision, the flame went up like a road flare and turned white.  I jerked back from it and raised a hand to shield my eyes from the sudden glare.

I felt a presence.  A moment later, I heard a voice as though from far away.

“There you are,” it said.  I recognized it.  “You’re quite far afield.”

“Keep your observations to yourself, Sparky,” I advised.  “I didn’t ask you to interfere with my spell.”

“True, but my daughters have asked Me of you.  They miss you.”

“You can tell them I’m fine.  Is that all?”

“Are you still upset with Me?”

“That works both ways,” I pointed out.

“I merely chastised you for your temerity.  True, I was startled when you nipped My finger, but I have never been angry with you.”

“Nip on the finger, huh?  If you say so.  Now that you’ve found me, are we done?”

“Not in this life,” she told me.  “I have something to say.”

“Be quick about it, because I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“I still love you.”

“Amber mentioned it.  I don’t believe it.  Now scram.”

“Why do you not believe?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“You cursed a whole city for allowing its citizens to worship other gods.  You ordered Tamara to kill our son in sacrifice to you.  You tried to kill me twice—because you were startled, or annoyed, or whatever.  I could go on.”

“I have reasons for everything I have done.  But to correct your statement, I did not try to kill you. I merely chastised you.”

“So you’ve said.  I don’t care.  You’re an untrustworthy, traitorous thing and I want nothing to do with you.”

“You do not understand.”

“Possibly, but there’s nothing you can say to change my mind,” I told the goddess.

“I apologize.”

That, I did not expect.

I opened my mouth to say something, probably some snap answer, but the unnatural burning of the candle finally expended it.  The light vanished, leaving behind only a hot spot and the smell of smoke.

I’ve gotten an apology from a goddess.  Will wonders never cease?

That’s not enough, though.  An apology isn’t going to do it.  I’m sitting on a lot of repressed anger and a simple statement isn’t going to fix it.  I still want to punch her in the face and take another bite or twelve out of her—even if my best chomp is merely a little “nip” to her.

Still, getting an apology… at least it’s something.  I didn’t think the so-called gods did that sort of thing.

This will bear some thinking about.

On the plus side, at least I’ve heard from someone on that side of the interdimensional void.  Can I contact Amber or Tianna through a fire?  I’m not sure how that would work.  It might be a property of an energy-state being rather than a spell.  I know Sparky can do it, and through her, Amber can probably do it, but I still have no idea how.  Knowing it can be done is a good first step.  I’ll figure it out eventually.

I don’t think I’m going to try to get Sparky to show me, either.

In the meantime, maybe I can do something for Gary and Mark.  I can use the charge in my Ascension Sphere and Ascension Stall—that name still amuses me—to prepare a pair of regenerative spells.  It’ll delay my gate testing, but... well, it’ll delay my gate testing.

Maybe I should cast more Ascension Spheres.  There are six stalls in the barn; Bronze only uses one.  The other five could be charging zones.  Heck, I could put two in the spare bedrooms and a couple of smaller ones in the attic space.  The ones in the house could even have the magic-blower spells; those spells seem to attract all the attention.  I’m trying to keep the barn relatively unnoticed.

Come to think of it, I could use the power in one of the current Ascension Stalls to charge a crystal.  That would provide a lot of conveniently-packaged power to make everything else go faster.

What the hell.  I’ve got time before the sunrise.

 

While working in the attic, I had an idea.  I grew diamonds in Karvalen by starting with a seed crystal and making carbon available.  If I set up an Ascension Sphere to help provide power and link a crystal-growing spell to it, balanced to run at a slightly lower power than the Sphere, it should gradually grow a diamond.  It’s not going to be fast, obviously, but here I have technology to help me.  If I include an electrical source—maybe a DC source, like a battery charger—to provide free electrons, as well as a heater, possibly a pressure cooker, can I make an environment more congenial to diamond crystal formation?  Will that help speed the spell along?

I’ll get back to you.

 

Yep, got that set up.  A DC source provides electrons, facilitating the movement of carbon atoms from one molecular bond and to another one.  It’s kind of like growing a crystal in a solution, only the solution has carbon atoms floating in an electron soup.

Again, that’s mostly wrong, but I think it’s a cool visual.

Added to that is a radiant heater, further encouraging the charcoal to come apart into elemental carbon and enhancing the chicken-to-broth ratio of my carbon soup.  The spell keeps telling the crystal structure in the middle to replicate using those free carbon atoms, while another spell helps with the initial combustion difficulties.

Highly-reactive free carbon in an oxygen atmosphere?  The typical result is left as an exercise for the student.

The Ascension Sphere, of course, keeps pulling in power for the spells inside.  I have a blower at either end of the attic to help that out.  It seems to be working properly, but it’s an open question as to how quickly.

If this does work at a moderately-decent rate, maybe I can branch out into other gemstones.  What goes into making sapphires, emeralds, and rubies?  I should read up on that.  There’s an immense amount of technology and reference material I wanted while I was in Karvalen, gemstone formation included.  I should get Diogenes to start building a reference library.  The more you know…

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