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Tivor
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In the background, the water wheel of Marisa’s new powder mill turned ceaseless. The embed in Achelous’s thigh tingled with an incoming message.
“There are bats everywhere! One landed in my hair!” Patrace complained to Marisa. They were having a debate about the sulfur dig in the cavern on Mt Epratis.
Achelous waited for the message code.
Marisa, not fond of bats either, looked shocked. “In your hair?”
“Eh, hem,” Eliot interrupted, “it swooped past your ear.”
Patrace wheeled on him, “How would you—” and so her tirade went.
The embed message-code told Achelous he had a text message on his multi-func, it was from Baryy, and it was urgent. He turned and walked slowly out of the converted flour mill, not wanting to attract attention.
He opened his multi-func and read the message: Wedgewood under attack. Trogs. Scaled the wall and in town. We are up tree in forts. They work. Busy ATM. Will call.
A chill constricted his chest. Troglodytes in Wedgewood?
He walked away from the mill. Baryy indicated the defenders had taken to their treeforts. That’s a disaster! That meant... his mind shied away from what it meant, but he forced himself to think about it. That implies the clan defenders have been unable to keep the troglodytes away or out of the town. “Shiren. How long did that take?” he asked aloud. “How many trogs are there?”
Marisa came out of the mill, “Why does everything have to be such a challenge?” She fumed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She stopped cold. Atch’s face was ashen; he was holding open his Auro Na bible. The one he never quoted from but always drew his intense interest. He stared off into the distance, worlds away.
Her diminished patience with Patrace forgotten, she edged to the left to get a better look at what he was reading. Her brow creased. Trying to get a better look she walked up beside him, but then the page in the bible shimmered. What? She shook her head not understanding what she saw. Reaching out she took the book from him and looked at it, the text was in the language of the old Auro Na, and she couldn’t read it. For that matter, she didn’t know of anyone, other than Achelous, who could read it. “Dearen, what does it say?”
“Trouble.”
His voice sounded old, defeated. She studied the greying stubble on his face. He hadn’t shaved in three days, but she let it go. Closing the bible, she asked, “What trouble?”
Baryy and Outish are in Wedgewood. What can I do? He ran through all the options.
“Atch,” this time she dropped the Dearen, “what is wrong?”
He grimaced, shook his head, and kept shaking it. He turned and walked away.
Marisa’s eyes widened. Not accustomed to being ignored, she wanted to demand an answer, but then Patrace came storming out of the mill, “I am not going to be the one to wade in bat guano and tell the diggers what is the best shit to dig!”
Marisa whirled, “Shut up!” Her snarl so quick and uncharacteristic that Patrace, wild grey hair and greasy leather apron, came to a sudden startled halt.
Marisa stabbed a finger at the mill, and Patrace took the hint. “Arg!” The alchemist spun on her heels, kicked the ground with a heavy boot, and stomped back to the mill.
Achelous came to it, finally. The only thing he could do was call the IDB and request an extraction. The gig would be up, of course. Maybe they could get there in time, maybe they couldn’t, but the whole plan to defend Dianis against the Nordarks would be undone, ruined. It didn’t matter though, as bad, as terrible as that might be, he couldn’t just let Baryy and Outish die. They were his... He thought about it; they had become his friends, not subordinates. He’d have to save them whatever way he could.
“What’s wrong?” Marisa demanded from behind him.
He turned.
She blinked. The Achelous she knew was back. The narrow, determined glare told her.
“Wedgewood is under attack. It’s been overrun by troglodytes. Baryy and Outish are there.”
She looked at the bible.
“And where there are troglodytes, there are Paleowrights. Those bastards are behind it.”
“How—” she asked, holding the bible.
He took it gently from her hand. He considered going to the Auro Na temple and shifting to Wedgewood, but he dared not go alone. There were probably trogs between the shift site and Wedgewood. He’d need an escort, a big one.
He opened the bible and told her to stay there.
She watched him walk away, turn his back to her, and do something in the bible. Finally, that done, he said, “We need to go back to the hall. If something happens we need to be with Boyd.”
Riding hard Achelous suddenly pulled up. Marisa, Eliot, and the five guards slowed and turned, looking for an explanation. They were within fifteen minutes of the hall. “Eliot, take the guards back to the hall. We are safe here. Marisa and I have an errand I just remembered.”
When Eliot looked to Marisa, she nodded once.
When the guards had left, he said, “How bad is it?”
“How bad is what?” replied Marisa.
He held up a hand and pointed to his ear. A gesture completely lost on her.
“That bloody figures,” he said, exasperated.
She glared at him and cocked her head.
“Sorry, Baryy, I have Marisa here with me, and she has no idea that we are talking to each other.” He paused, waiting. “Well, what am I supposed to do?” He ignored Baryy’s complaint about letting Marisa know they could talk via A-wave. “I have one choice, and that is call for extraction.”
“Extraction?” she asked.
“The Paleowrights have invaded Wedgewood,” he told her. “There is a pitched battle going on. Baryy says they are hurting the troglodytes and Paleowrights, but it is a close thing.” He cupped his ear, and held up the other hand to Marisa, “What’s that?” Listening, he finally responded, “You sure you don’t want extraction? I mean, Baryy,” his voice caught, “if there is something I can do to save you two I will do it. Period.” He listened, continuing to cup his ear, “Okay, yes I know it would ruin everything. Yes, it may be bigger than two lives, but those two lives are you and Outish, and I...,” he choked.
He nodded. Dipping his head. “Fine,” he whispered. “I’ll let you go.”
He dropped his hand, signaling his conversation with Baryy was over. “There is nothing we can do. Baryy says he and Outish will fight it out with the Timberkeeps.”
Still befuddled she urged her mount next to his. “They’ll be alright.”
He laughed a short, bitter laugh. “That may be true, and maybe not. Those damned Paleowrights are going to be the end of us all. They are after the aquamarine mine. And like you found out here with the Pirates, the Church will not give up.” He stood in the stirrups and tried to stretch. The stupid, ignorant Paleowrights were about to destroy the planet’s single best chance to defeat Nordarken Mining and the flood of corsairs that was sure to come, and with that loss of a self-governing Uplift. It was hard enough, impossible enough for him and the provincials to fight Nordarken Mining, but now they had to fight the Paleowrights, pirates, and troglodytes too.
Prodding Echo to a canter he waited for Marisa to catch up. He so much wanted to focus on the Nordarken threat, but now the Church was the paramount danger.
Marisa caught up and he looked at her. “We need to hurt the Paleowrights. I don’t know how, but anything we can do, we must do. They are putting at risk the defense of this world.” Usually, the thought of intervening and influencing local politics would have been abhorrent to him. He believed in ULUP, but now that the Paleowrights had intervened and could kill Baryy and Outish; things were different. Adding to his woes, Ogden, the foundry, the all the prototypes were Wedgewood.
