Comet Fall (Wine of the Gods) (20 page)

"That's right. But by charming the paper with a name, you learn to consciously differentiate magically between individual people, or animals, or locations
. . . Wait. Did you just read this?"

Xen gave her a smug grin, dimples and all
.

"Huh. Well. Because you are a wizard
, you have subconsciously noticed things about the people you know. So, write out the names of your family, umm, the horses. See how many names you can remember."

"Do I have to use the 'Pretty Boy, Pretty Boy, what do you see? Pretty Boy, Pretty Boy, wi
ll you marry me?' charm on Junk? She's a mare." He whined at just the right pitch. Rustle eyed him and his dimples deepened. "I don't want to marry a horse. I want to marry Marisha. She's the best cook."

"Ha. The boy's got good sense." Farli walked by, grinning. "And should you be giving away your magic secrets, teaching him where anyone can hear?"

Rustle grinned. "If any of these work for anyone, then they ought to learn them. But for most people, it won't do a bit of good. And only you guys are hearing them, anyway." She dropped her gaze to Xen. "Yes, I'm afraid you do have to use that silly rhyme. Just remember, you're young, you haven't grasped power yet. So nothing is going to happen. But after you grasp power, if you already know the charms, everything else will come much faster."

Xen gave the paper a baffled study. "No magic.
And anyway, shouldn't I say 'Pretty girl?' since I'm a boy?"

"
It's the twist of the mind that matters. The 'Pretty Boy' stuff works for witches. I haven't the faintest idea if 'Pretty Girl' would work better or worse, for a boy wizard. When you're older, when you get it right, you'll see the paper glow. Eventually you won't need the words, you'll just twist the power that specific way."

He wrinkled his nose and started reciting his version.

Phantom was also three, and a dream to ride. He cheerfully co-operated, and loved exploring odd places in the city. Galloping in the park. Between herself and the horse, they attracted attention, some of the wrong kind. Not wanting to have to explain to the locals about a repeat of her Karista bloodbath, Rustle fixed up new clothes for her rides, severe and black to match the horse, and used illusions on herself to look masculine and shed attention. At any rate, both the local equivalent of the Young Bloods and the Young Ladies paid much more attention to the horse, without illusions, than the rider after that.

1373 Spring

New Tokyo

By the end of the month, Trump (she liked Hell's pronunciation, and had never corrected it) could understand everything he said. Until he started talking about ancient devices. Or philosophies. Really, some of the things he said were incredibly silly. First off, you didn't hunt tortoises with bow and arrow. Secondly, the arrow would not be going
to
the tortoise, but into it or a long ways further if you missed or it skipped off the shell. Thirdly it didn't go by halves. Fourthly halves didn't add like that. She'd mentioned the concept of fourths and eighths, and he'd laughed for ages.

Growing up in Ash, she'd been around more old gods than most of the other people in the whole World. She didn't expect them to make sense, or react like normal people. Some things he just didn't understand, like there was a huge blank in his head. Just like the other gods. She studied him, and kept her familiarity with gods to herself.

But on a day-to-day basis, they got on very well.

She had only one gripe with the world. "Damn that wine, anyway. I'm pregnant again."

He looked up from a book, alarmed.

"Oh, relax, I'm a witch. Witches don't get married, don't hang onto men." She snorted. "We sure do get stuck with the babies, though."

"I'm sorry . . .I didn't . . . "

"Didn't think while your brains were still half marble? I ought to have known those kids stories about sleeping beauty awakening with a kiss were toned down for the kiddies . . . What are you laughing at
, this time?"

He just wrapped his arms around her, and held her like she was all that
kept him from reverting to marble.

She quickly adapted to the odd printing in all of Hell's books. Not that she understood
half of what was them . . . The labels and numbers on things in his kitchen needed explanations, but were very handy once she knew how to use them. The first thing she'd done when they started communicating, was get a new bottle of wine to transmute with the dregs of her old bottle.

Hell had been impressed. And impressed with her magical abilities. She'd rendered them both invisible several times, so they could spy on the Westerners.

They had a small army of laborers digging up the ruins, and studying everything. Trump got bored, but Hell seemed fascinated by their activities.

And wary of the three sealed buildings they were concentrating on.

"There are other gods asleep in them." Hell explained. "The city has changed so much and I have slept so long that I don't know which gods they are. Friends or enemies. Or maybe my friends have become my enemies. Maybe I never really had friends, just people who could tolerate me for short periods of time. I'll know if they figure out how to open them. Our homes have a way of . . . moving. I'm surprised four of us have stayed still for so long."

"I didn't know gods had enemies. You don't fight with the God of War do you?"

"Hell no." He winked at her. "He hands out Just Deserts left and right. Gets it wrong sometimes though. Humph. We rub along pretty good, so long as I keep my distance from other people and the dogs under control."

"I suppose the God of War must be the enemy of the God of Peace."

"Oh yes. Especially since The Golden Boy thinks that True Peace will only come when there is a single government for all people and everyone is completely equal. He's quite fun to be around, he collects so many people who really need to get their Just Deserts."

Tromp wrinkled her nose. "Does he think everyone ought to be equally rich or equally poor?"

"I don't think he thinks at all."

"Hmm, and what enemies does the God of Just Deserts have?"

"Mercy. Wretched woman. The people she thinks deserve mercy . . . don't deserve her brand of mercy. And the God of the Roads, he protects everyone, no matter who they are or what they've done. And Love. The man makes me sick with his sappy poetry. And Chance, there's a real pain in the ass. He doesn't care if someone deserves to win or lose." He chuckled. "But the gods aren't all bad. The God of Eternal Youth gets a bit tedious, sometimes. The juvenile humor, you know. But I do hope he's here. He has some truly outstanding moments. Arty Marty is a real pal. Hysterical, what some people call art. And it's always fun to watch Virtue and Vice pretend they don't have anything in common. Twins, you know?

She shook her head. "Not actually."

He leaned over and kissed her. "Of course not. Let's see." He counted on his fingers. "Eleven, what two am I missing? Oh, the Ladies. How could I? Health. She'll heal anything, specialized in reproductive medicine, and was the only genetic engineer among us. Then there's Logic. Gah! Get her drunk and she goes off in really weird directions, but sober, no sense of humor at all. Bleck."

"It doesn't sound like you have any real enemies." She was relieved.

"Oh, I do. Or rather I did, but we left them behind, and after all this time, they're gone to dust and blown away, while I'm alive and getting laid. How's that for Just Deserts?"

"It sounds like some should come your way."

"Oh, it will. As soon as I'm back in touch with people, it will all start again." He wrapped his arms around her and laid a suddenly gentle cheek against her hair. "Maybe
you
will still be able to stand me. That would be more than I deserve."

Uneasy with his change of mood, she changed the subject. "Do you think they can get those buildings open? Somehow I doubt they'll use my methods."

Hell chuckled. "I should think not! I can't believe you actually managed it. Ha! Those rapists got their Just Deserts, indeed. They've got the outer shell down in one of them, but they don't seem to know how they did it. I don't think they will get any further." He leaned over and nuzzled into her neck. "Want some more Just Deserts?"

1373
Late Spring

Ash

He shouldn't have kissed her. The Auld Wulf pa
ced around his vineyard, and wished it were later in the year. Harvesting grapes, crushing them, the painstaking work of getting the right yeast to grow and the bacteria not to grow . . . Right now he didn't have enough to do to take his mind off Rustle. Or the dreams of wives long dead.
Do I dare love again? Or should I admit that it is way too late to think about that? She's still so young!

Twenty years old, the age at which he might have been bold enough to start wooing her. She'd been gorgeous, all elegant in a black riding outfit. Bright intelligent eyes, just enough figure to make a man sit up and take notice. Damn those rapists, and damn his year's slumber and dream state. They'd started all wrong . . . but she'd wanted that kiss. Maybe, maybe it wasn't hopeless. Maybe he just needed to
wait a little longer. To remember enough to finish mourning the past, to forget enough to feel young again.

His restless feet had taken him down to the Village, and he cocked an ear at the unmistakable cry of a newborn. Ash was still growing.

A pretty collection of chestnut mares was tied to the rail outside Harry's, so he wasn't surprised to find Dydit and Justice huddled over delicate little exercises, while Gisele and Harry chatted.

Two other witches
sipped tea off to the side, and pretended they weren't watching the odd lessons. Watching a wizard and a witch manipulate things they couldn't see.

They weren't the only baffled ones.

Nil sat back with a frown. "Justice can show me what she sees, but I still can't see it directly."

"You never will, boy." Gisele look
ed like an old crone today. The Auld Wulf had never been able to see though the illusion, and rather wondered if there was one, or if she shifted shape from crone to matron to maiden. After all If Dydit could turn into a goat, and the dragons turn from human to drake in a few moments, surely a different human form would be easy enough.

Gisele cast him a beady eyed look. "It's all subtleties, instead of coarse changes. You should try it."

"No thank you." Bad enough he had memory problems, he wanted to recognize what he saw in the mirror.

"Hey Wolf, you like those mares out there?" Nil abandon
ed his studies for his favorite hobby. "Sun Gold daughters. Romeau says the only horse he's even seen that might match Sun Gold is your stallion. He says you have quite a horse tucked away in one of these bubbles some people claim to be able to see. Why don't you show him off? We never see more than a shadow when you get hauled off. Wouldn't you like to see what sort of foal he produces? Perhaps with
those
mares."

"Well, he's a larger
, heavier type than Sun Gold, I don't know that you'd want to cross their lines." He grinned at Nil's expression. Then looked around at the door as Answer walked in.

"I
'm too old for these collections of births." She informed the room. "Henceforth, I am going to tell the girls to get pregnant at monthly intervals. No closer." She eyed the Auld Wulf, then turned away.

Justice snickered, "Four nights, four babies?"

"Yes, and why Iron decided she should advance at eighteen is beyond me. Not to mention Zenith and Cost decided to have babies again, just a year after their first. And Swish! She just isn't mature enough for this. I think we need to avoid those Rip Crossing people."

The Auld Wulf
shrugged. "They were all raised to be mages and witches. Not ordinary people, with normal courting habits, and marriages and all." He tried to keep his tone mild. He'd already alienated the mages, he didn't want to drive the witches away.