He's fine, damn it. "Hmm. Recognize locations."
Rustle leaned back and closed her eyes. This was a regular camping spot of hers, a little hill above Black Sand Lake. No brush, big trees, silence and solitude. She could feel the power flows, deep and sluggish, dim. "Definitely need to try the hot springs."
"Definitely going to surprise the Elder Sisters," the Auld Wulf's voice was warm, but with a bit of a gleeful note under it. The black horse shifted and snorted, barely sweaty. The god's sword was clean.
She slanted a grin up at him and rose. "Not much problem with the Auralians?"
"A small group of bandits attacked some miners that know to call on me, and there were also Travelers on the road that called on Harry. Harry was pissed; I hardly needed to show up. They ran at the first sign of serious resistance." The sword disappeared with a twist of his hand, and he swung off the big horse, the armor vanished. The horse disappeared last, and there was just her old hero standing there.
Rustle shook her head. "Is it hard to be a god? Do you have to come whenever someone calls? What if there are two fights?"
"Depends on how much magic the caller possesses, and the degree of his control. This fellow is a wizard, or would have been one if he'd been castrated and all that mess. Even so, he's strong, and works very well instinctively. I really can't ignore him. If I were stupid enough to have a Church, he'd be the Archpriest. Rufi's pretty loud too, but he hasn't got the wizard or witch genes, just a whole lot of the rest of them. Most people I don't hear at all, which is a good thing for my sanity."
She nodded thoughtfully, touched her belly. "What about our child?"
"I doubt she'll be as sensitive as we old gods are. Whatever happened to us . . . I think we were injured, then we absorbed a lot of expectations from the people around us. I wish I remembered more."
She smiled. "Me too."
He chuckled. "Scholar. If you find anything out, tell me, eh? The children of gods seem to grow a bit slowly. Don't expect our daughter to be as early and precocious as you were."
"Maybe she'll even it all out and be normal."
He ran a finger over her cheekbone. "Rustle . . . I'm so old. So full of half forgotten memories . . . " He broke off and stooped to kiss her, gently, as he faded out.
"Just like his horse." S he touched her cheekbone. Her belly. Be like your father, my little girl. Or just be yourself. She took a deep breath, exhaled. You are not a trap, just a baby. I won't let myself be yoked, limited. You will bring me to the next stage of my powers, a gift of your birth. I will love you for that, I will love you for your father, and hopefully I will love you for yourself.
She stayed out another week, just to show that she was as self sufficient as ever, and returned home happier and more relaxed than she'd been all year.
As the days lengthened, the witches left the village for the mountains. For the mountain.
The peak of Mount Frost was a sharp pyramid on the south side of the rim of the quiescent volcanic crater.
A very full pyramid on this Summer Solstice.
Rustle was still down with the rest of the Crescent Moons, three full triads, each on its own face of the pyramid.
Below her, sixteen teenagers crowded around the base of the spire. They were past puberty, but had not yet grasped power. Sisters of the New Moon, they were called. Some of them were a bit old to still be here.
Above her, Mostly and Likely occupied the level of the Half Moon. Their oldest daughters still hoped for power, this last summer of their eligibility. The gap in time between generations had left a gap in the pyramid, but the Half Moon Triad would be filled as soon as she gave birth. Unless Mostly and Likely advanced, in the mean time. It would be very full once the older Crescent Moons were ready for parenthood. Perhaps they should allow some early advancements, and retard others so this gap didn't repeat. Allow? Rustle rejected the idea of outside
Rustle leaned back and closed her eyes. This was a regular camping spot of hers, a little hill above Black Sand Lake. No brush, big trees, silence and solitude. She could feel the power flows, deep and sluggish, dim. "Definitely need to try the hot springs."
"Definitely going to surprise the Elder Sisters," the Auld Wulf's voice was warm, but with a bit of a gleeful note under it. The black horse shifted and snorted, barely sweaty. The god's sword was clean.
She slanted a grin up at him and rose. "Not much problem with the Auralians?"
"A small group of bandits attacked some miners that know to call on me, and there were also Travelers on the road that called on Harry. Harry was pissed; I hardly needed to show up. They ran at the first sign of serious resistance." The sword disappeared with a twist of his hand, and he swung off the big horse, the armor vanished. The horse disappeared last, and there was just her old hero standing there.
Rustle shook her head. "Is it hard to be a god? Do you have to come whenever someone calls? What if there are two fights?"
"Depends on how much magic the caller possesses, and the degree of his control. This fellow is a wizard, or would have been one if he'd been castrated and all that mess. Even so, he's strong, and works very well instinctively. I really can't ignore him. If I were stupid enough to have a Church, he'd be the Archpriest. Rufi's pretty loud too, but he hasn't got the wizard or witch genes, just a whole lot of the rest of them. Most people I don't hear at all, which is a good thing for my sanity."
She nodded thoughtfully, touched her belly. "What about our child?"
"I doubt she'll be as sensitive as we old gods are. Whatever happened to us . . . I think we were injured, then we absorbed a lot of expectations from the people around us. I wish I remembered more."
She smiled. "Me too."
He chuckled. "Scholar. If you find anything out, tell me, eh? The children of gods seem to grow a bit slowly. Don't expect our daughter to be as early and precocious as you were."
"Maybe she'll even it all out and be normal."
He ran a finger over her cheekbone. "Rustle . . . I'm so old. So full of half forgotten memories . . . " He broke off and stooped to kiss her, gently, as he faded out.
"Just like his horse." S he touched her cheekbone. Her belly. Be like your father, my little girl. Or just be yourself. She took a deep breath, exhaled. You are not a trap, just a baby. I won't let myself be yoked, limited. You will bring me to the next stage of my powers, a gift of your birth. I will love you for that, I will love you for your father, and hopefully I will love you for yourself.
She stayed out another week, just to show that she was as self sufficient as ever, and returned home happier and more relaxed than she'd been all year.
As the days lengthened, the witches left the village for the mountains. For the mountain.
The peak of Mount Frost was a sharp pyramid on the south side of the rim of the quiescent volcanic crater.
A very full pyramid on this Summer Solstice.
Rustle was still down with the rest of the Crescent Moons, three full triads, each on its own face of the pyramid.
Below her, sixteen teenagers crowded around the base of the spire. They were past puberty, but had not yet grasped power. Sisters of the New Moon, they were called. Some of them were a bit old to still be here.
Above her, Mostly and Likely occupied the level of the Half Moon. Their oldest daughters still hoped for power, this last summer of their eligibility. The gap in time between generations had left a gap in the pyramid, but the Half Moon Triad would be filled as soon as she gave birth. Unless Mostly and Likely advanced, in the mean time. It would be very full once the older Crescent Moons were ready for parenthood. Perhaps they should allow some early advancements, and retard others so this gap didn't repeat. Allow? Rustle rejected the idea of outside
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