“Try not to flash that around. If you want help managing it, let me know. I can arrange some investments for you, if you like.” The funny thing was how serious he sounded.
“Would you sir?” Lyn said sounding even younger than her years. She held all the golds out to him but one. “I’ve never had this kind of money before. It would be a relief.”
Tor wondered at the term, money, but he didn’t really recognize it. Except, really he did. He got that it meant coin from context at least. It was strange though. Normally when someone used a made up term like that, it was him. Tor smiled and nodded to her.
“Cool.”
That got a grin from the small girl and a pat on the back for her from Trice.
“Don’t worry, Rolph’s good with coin. Learning to be an accountant even.”
Then Tor gave her a copy of each of the things he'd made, there were nearly thirty fields in all, so he set up a floating chest for her to carry everything in. She’d need one of those to work with anyway.
“Right, so a gold per week for supplies, investments and occasional treats, that kind of thing. Get with me if you need funds for working supplies and we’ll handle that separately. The devices are on loan to you, start making your own copies from them, I suggest doing it on metal, there’s a shop in town that has some for sale, I'd get the cheapest since someone else is paying for it, but it's up to you. When you get a copy of each of these I'll help you work out your plan for a novel build.”
She left hurriedly, seeming excited by the idea rather than put off. That was something Tor could understand at least. When he was new at school they'd dragged everything out for years before they let him do his own work. Even there he’d kind of just done it, without asking for permission. It wasn't that hard. If you could do copying, you could make your own stuff. It just took planning and getting a feel for how reality worked.
Trice and Rolph both stared at him.
“Um, what?” He said hoping he hadn't just breached some major rules or social protocol. Was it really too much coin for her? It probably seemed like more, coming in all at once.
Rolph shook his head.
“There's what, fifty people in the kingdom that can make devices without a template, and you just sent a little girl off to make two dozen of them as if it were nothing. That's what.”
Tor shrugged.
“Fifty-one now. She can do it. If she doesn't end up being a lot better than me in the end, I'll be surprised. She’s here for a reason you know.”
Trice took his hand, using her right one, the left being real looking and feeling, but not having the ability to feel anything yet. That had to be his next project he knew. Actually, since he had some time he should do it right now. The hand had been hard to make, but he didn't have a clue how to make something to do the work of nerves yet. If he went off to Austra and died though, he didn't want to leave her with a sub-standard arm. That would just be unprofessional of him.
For that matter he needed to make a right hand for Smythe of Westend, who was currently his boss in a strange back room fashion. A good guy, when he wasn't being a prick and trying to kill him. Well, he didn't have time to waste really, did he? Taking Trice by the hand, Tor got her to sit on the bed, Rolph took that as his cue to leave, a small smile on his face, letting Tor actually work for a bit.
The nerve pattern was a simple enough thing, once he captured the sense of the field. He already knew how to place feelings in a person’s mind, even physical sensations, so all he had to do was combine the two things, test it, then if it worked, rebuild the hand entirely with that added in. Simple. Trice had just been sitting and looking at him while he examined her pattern and his own, trying to distill the essence of what it was to be a nerve, so when he looked up she kind of sighed at him.
“Tor, not to be pushy, but I kind of expect a little more from my dates than just sitting on a bed holding hands. If you don't want to talk, fine, but at least-”
Tor kissed her, focusing on how her nerves responded to the action. When she sat back after a full two minutes she practically purred at him.
“Better, now for the rest?” With a tap on the sigil around her neck, after digging it out, she made her clothing vanish.
It took about an hour to kiss most of the rest of her body and for her to return the favor, but the time was well spent. Not only did he get a good sense of how nerve information was gathered and processed, it was fun. It wasn't sex, exactly, but he felt like he knew her a lot better now. They managed to get dressed just before the rest of everyone came in all at once, led by Rolph, since he had to get them through the door.
Ali stared a little as they sat on the bed and then nodded to them, walking over and kissing Tor, then doing the same to Trice.
“Good. I was worried for a bit, at least now you can help me with him Patricia. I love him, but he's a bit prudish.” She softened the words by sitting next to him and giving him a hug.
Tor tried not to laugh. By her standards it was just true, wasn't it?
Rolph stared at her for a half second, it was a funny look, but Tor didn't get why at first.
“Emergency Tor. County Cannor has been hit by a lot of flooding and needs help, I got it from… sources, but we've been requested to help by Countess Cannor as well as the King. By we, I mean the whole Lairdgren School. Apparently the word about the “Queen’s gift” to the school has gone out already. Funny, but when you say things like that to the King, he tends to take you at your word.”
Ah. That had Burks written all over, didn't it? His idea of “revenge” for Tor overstepping? Make it real and put them all to work. It was fair. Besides, people needed help, didn't they? Of course he'd do what he could. Tor climbed up quickly and grabbed his emergency chest. It had everything he needed to head out with, as well as things that might aid people, healing devices and all that. Everyone else just stood, waiting for some reason.
“Um, guys? Emergency? Shouldn't people be packing and assembling to fly out? Get with the instructors and all that? I don't know how many will be allowed to come, but maybe someone with red-hair should go and check with the Dean if he hasn't already?” Tor stared at Rolph, who shrugged.
“Sure, send me to do the dirty work. Alright. I guess I'll be back in about twenty minutes or so, with news one way or the other. Sigh I say, big, put upon sigh. But if we can't go, don't blame me. This is weird and my natural charm can only do so much.” Walking out, the large man threw a look at Tor. Didn't he want to help? Tor wondered and figured it probably wasn't just that. Maybe Tor was supposed to go chat up the Dean himself, but…
He had things to get ready.
People scattered and Tor went outside to get ready to leave. That he only had a vague idea where County Cannor was wouldn't stop him from trying to go, of course, even if he had to do it alone. Mary Cannor had kind of adopted his mom when she was a girl, since as far as they both knew her real mother had died in childbirth or some such. Real blood link or not, it meant she was his grandmother. Mary Cannor was also a bit of a loon and sometimes seemed to be missing a few steps in the process of life, but that didn't mean she and her people didn't need whatever bit of aid he could come up with. Plus the King had requested their help, so that kind of made the whole thing more important, didn't it?
Nearly eighty people stood with him in the commons, the gray stone underfoot slightly damp from an earlier rain, and the sky starting to darken early. More people came as they waited, running, carrying bags with them mainly, packs, and a few people seemed to have made their own on the fly by wrapping their belongings in bed sheets and tying them over one shoulder across their middles.
Clever!
Tor would have never thought of doing that on his own. His case would follow him, flying through the air, but these people had efficiently used what they had to make do, and in minutes, not the hour or so it would have taken him to make a box himself. He filed the information away for later. Who knew what would be important over time?
The Dean actually ran out, as did a whole host of instructors. At first Tor figured they were going to tell everyone they weren't allowed to go, until he saw that all of them had packs and flying rigs on too, including Hardgrove. He'd changed into military black and had sturdy work boots on his feet. Apparently he was serious about coming too, because the second time his famously long beard got caught on something, he pulled a cutter from his front chest pocket and made it nearly a foot shorter in a single efficient move. It looked slightly funny now, all flat on the bottom starting about an inch under his chin, but it was a sign that everyone needed to take this seriously if
