“OK.” Tor cut him off, relief rushing through him.
“What?” The old man, Ancient and wise stared at him. “I'm pretty sure we're supposed to argue about this all the way to Grenwyn, then you grudgingly accept my superior skill and ability to handle the unknown and we go from there, we me carefully managing you the whole time. It's why I left two whole weeks to get ready.”
Tor chuckled.
“You're three thousand years old. If you aren't better than me at nearly everything, possibly even things I haven't imagined being real, then… no… really, You're just better. You can go in and I'll work back up, transportation and any building you think you need. I have some stuff ready and some ideas. Besides, I'd rather not have my nuts cut off. I've barely gotten to use them you know. I still haven't tried half the things Ursala, Countess Thorgood, told me about. So… is that Grenwyn down there? I've never been. It looks like Afrak… only greener.”
It did too. If Tor hadn't seen the way they lived, their domes earth houses and plants everywhere, almost turning their very spread out cities into giant gardens, he'd have missed this now. It was impressive, stunning from the air, in that it was nearly invisible. The only thing that gave it away were a few wood smoke plums rising from hills.
The Count nodded.
“There it is indeed, home sweet home. I did mention that gardening could be a satisfying hobby, didn't I? Land over there please.” He pointed to a clearing near a large hill, covered with shrubs and blackberry bushes and surrounded by trees. Evergreens at a distance, but there were fruit and nut trees throughout.
Burks looked at him from the side seat.
“That was a bit quicker than I expected. Obviously this isn't a regular carriage.”
“Yeah, but not even close to what the Austrans have. Quieter, but they can outrun us. I really don't have time to figure out how to do more before we go, I don't think. We'll need to be gone before they know it. If we can, say, get an eight hour head start, it should work.”
Not commenting the other man popped the top and stepped out easily. Tor couldn't match the grace of the movement, but did get out without tripping at this time. A woman of about thirty came out the reddish brown door sunk back into the hill and stopped suddenly, staring first at Burks and then Tor. After a moment she tried to speak, but nothing came out.
“Um, hi, I'm Tor. You can tell because I'm shorter. And I think our haircuts are different. If you want I can change my clothes into something else, here…” His voice was happy sounding enough, nearly charming even as he focused and made his student browns turn a deep purple so that he didn't look as much like the other man. Finally the woman glared at Burks and then Tor.
“I see. So this is some kind of game your playing with me? Telling me my cousin the famous builder is coming and then showing up with two of yourself instead? Well I never!” She held the incensed act, with hands on the hips of her brown dress, a gray rag in hand and an equally drab kerchief on her head for about fifteen seconds. Then she grinned, a wide and playful thing that reminded Tor a little of his mother.
“Ah, don't mind me Torrance. I'm Brenda, and actually was warned about all this. I can't say I believed it, but I was given foreknowledge, so any shock I feel is my own failing. You'll be staying here. Notice that wasn't a question? If it's not grand enough for you, then I'll beat you with a wooden stirring spoon until it is.” The tone and words reminded him of someone.
“God Burks!” Head going forward and mouth open in feigned amazement. “You've already cloned my mother? How… Why?”
Holding up his hands defensively he verbally back pedaled.
“Not that my mother isn't a wonderful woman, but still, ones isenough, isn't it?” Tor was trying to be funny, but remembered that they needed to actually have that conversation for real. Lara Gray the leader of Afrak was his mother the same way the Burks was his grandfather and him. Worse, Tor really feared that his younger sister Tiera might be her too.
But for now they all chuckled.
“Even the same sense of humor. Well, Cousin Tor, come in. I guess you can leave your… thing? Right there. Probably kill the vegetation under it but we'll live.” The voice suddenly wasn't pleased.
Then who would be, if their garden was about to be starved of light? At least it floated about a foot from the ground instead of actively crushing it.
Tor didn't respond, just took out the one trunk he'd brought, a small one, mainly with amulets, for gifts if anyone wanted them, and his toothbrush and cleaning supplies. Then he tapped the sigil on the carriage making it vanish and slipped the hemp string over his neck. The sheer number of amulets he wore daily was becoming a nuisance. He could consolidate them into one, if he over got a chance. He'd never heard of it being done, but it should work well enough. Really, it was just copy work.
Actually, he realized, he'd already done it once. The new weapon he'd made that had eight different fields on it, for different situations. Ah, well, proof of concept right there if nothing else. Good.
Brenda had the same black hair he did, but her eyes were a light green, almost like the sea in sunlight. Her face was rounder than his, but it was all high and strong cheekbone and powerful jaw, not fat. She was taller than Tor was, taller than Burks, but not more than an inch or so. Her skin looked to be made of gold, lacking only the shine. Everything about her should have been stunningly beautiful, but somehow it combined into merely pretty, almost handsome. Then… he got compared to a girl at least once a week, so what did he know? She seemed nice, if a little forceful in character.
Once they got inside, without a word, she vanished.
Tor could feel her, she'd simply gone a little further down a hallway, but what looked at first like a dead end of blue gray was actually slightly bent, enough so that the point where it went at a ninety degree angle wasn't visible from the door. Burks didn't show him to a room, if he even got one here, instead he took him to some steps that went down, below ground. A basement. He'd never been in a place that had one before, not a real house at least. The King’s palace did, but that was a dank little room for keeping secrets. This was big and dry.
If the things in it weren't secret, Tor would have to change the definition of the word, at least when he used it. Most of the objects he didn't even have names for. He could name parts if, like glass windows on boxes of silver, and lenses on other, smaller black boxes, but if asked what they did he'd be lost. Other than the glass and some small bits of metal, he didn’t even know what they were made of. What he could recognize was that this was based on science. The strange and wasteful magic of Austra and possibly other places. Afrak claimed their magic as science too, and they only worked with the alteration of living things. Or at least that's all they'd told him about. It wasn't like he'd asked at the time.
“So, secret hoard of science? Is there a tiny dragon to guard it as well? If not I can get you one. I made one for the King last year. Birthday present.” Tor asked, not knowing for certain, but guessing it was illegal, or against the treaty of the Ancients, whatever that was. Probably some eight thousand page book written over the course of a century describing everything under the sun in great detail. Then forbidding it. That was basically what rules and laws were, right?
“Yes. Technically not allowed here, but I make a point of keeping up with what the others are doing. Not just science, technology or genetic research, but the spiritual and harmonic systems as well. I even try to get down to the Antarctic now and then for a visit. Now they have some technology that defies description. Magic too. They aren't much for making it, but they come in and buy it every now and then. If you want to make friends, you should send Blue a selection of your work. Something to remember… Denno Brown doesn't believe in magic. It's hardwired into him, much like we can't understand our true intelligence even when it's proved. This lack of belief has colored the whole of Austran culture for thousands of years. Great guy, Denno, but he can't see what's right in front of him at times. Glost Serge is more or less in that mold, but really kinds of hates us. Me personally that is, for thwarting his attempt to kill Laurie most likely.” He pulled out a chair in the middle of a decently sized table made of focus stone and wave for Tor to get comfortable himself.
“It was moronic of course, he brought in a group of Larvals, they must have been about thirteen years old. Tough, but not more than I could handle alone. If he would have waited another ten years we'd all probably have died. The attack came without warning or hint. Well it worked out. Not a happy memory.” That Tor could see.
Killing six little kids? Or seven, because that seemed the Larval way, groups that large being the norm. It had to be done, but… Yeah. It wouldn't be something to chat about if you didn't have to. That meant that Burks thought he needed to let Tor know. Why, he couldn't guess, so he waited without commenting.
