4. Waterpower #6
"So," Copper said, getting their attention.
"We have three transformations, all into unlike, all done by the same sorcerer.
Someone will have a hell of a headache, if he's still conscious, or when he regains consciousness.
I didn't feel anything snap, did you?" He gestured toward Lukaz with the beef stick.
"No, sir, but the house is shielded, and I was near the Thaumatology building on campus all morning, and that's very well shielded. If the transformation happened early, I might not have noticed it."
"We didn't sense anything beyond the usual today," Florian said, nodding toward Leopold. The big dog gestured agreement, then returned to dining.
"I'll report the Hunt, and the magic workers' observations.
The other Hunt was mostly successful. One of the creatures—" They all ducked as the sky to the west flashed brilliant white, and a deep rolling roar of thunder shook the world.
"Short version, three injured, one badly, and a pony killed. Go to shelter," Florian commanded.
"Sir." Lukaz clapped the lid back onto the mint can, tidied everything and headed for home. Oh, he'd hurt come the morning. The hilt of his sword and butt of his revolver left nasty bruises.
Squelch, squish, squelch. "St. Isadore my witness, I'm glad of the rain, but I would that the Great God had not answered everyone's prayers all at once," An'stache declared the next afternoon as they checked the fences on the northernmost pasture.
"Anno. I hear mosquitoes singing hymns of thanksgiving." Lukaz crouched and wiggled the lowest rail. It did not move. "This will be the piglet pasture?"
His oldest brother, Karlu, tried to move the post, then said, "Yes, so we need to roll the wire around the inside, once we put the panels in. But not this day. Two weeks, Father said, at the soonest."
St. Anthony be praised. "Anno. When we finish our checks I need to test the stream." The rain should have diluted the contamination. Or washed more into the watershed, since it had fallen on Thursday, and that would make three bad things.
"Anno." They'd finished two more sides of the pasture fence when An'stache's phone rang.
"Padurar fine woodworking, how can I help you?
" his brother said in English as Lukaz and Karlu continued around the corner to the last long stretch of wooden fence.
"No; no, sir. I spoke with my father this morning and he did not report finding any stray livestock. "
Lukaz grinned at the shaded truth. Pop. Sorcery magic flared to the west, and he winced. Someone would have a headache. Wait, that felt close. Too close. He mouthed two bad words and trotted back along the fence, then onto the little way beside the stream.
"Dangerrrr," gurgled the waters beside him. He signed understanding and slowed, still moving toward the source of the pop.
"Oh—" He caught himself before he said something very, very bad. Instead he pulled his phone out of the holster, checked the signal, and called his father.
"Anno?"
"Chemical spill at the property line, coming downstream. Bring shovels and turn off the pumps, please."
He heard something pungent but muffled. "Anno. Call the county?"
"Anno, prosh'," yes, please.
The call ended. Lukaz drew power from his focus and concentrated.
He sent a tiny thread of magic into the chemical and traced it upstream to just past the property line.
Something about the chemical felt soiled—not like blood-path magic but not good, either.
He withdrew the power from the flow and sat hard.
Squish. Wet chilled his rump. "Mother will not be pleased.
" Nor would several other people, starting with the renter or whoever was trying to augment chemicals with magic.
Lukaz looked inside himself and gritted his teeth.
He was at eighty percent at best. "Right.
They know where I am. Lady of Night, Star of the Sea, help me, please, if your Lord wills.
" He reached inside himself. What if he flowed power out, seeking only the chemical?
Yes, that he could do. He closed his eyes most of the way and spun a dam of magic, holding back the power-touched chemical.
It worked, mostly. Water flowed past, but anything with magic slowed and stopped.
An'stache found him still sitting in the very wet dirt. "Mother will kill you," he began, then caught himself. "Bastard son of an Ottoman and an abyssal beast," he hissed. "The water's yellowy green. Are you holding it back?"
"Trying."
He heard calls back and forth, and then his father and another man speaking quickly. "Yes, the filter-rolls across there." Splashing followed, and his father said, "We have it, Salrou, release the spell."
Oh so slowly he pulled power back into himself, as much as he could.
Hands caught him as he sagged, and half-lifted, half-dragged him to his feet, then over to something higher and dry.
"Drink this," his oldest brother commanded.
He took the big cup and tasted, then drank.
Very thick beef broth flowed into him, and he stopped shaking so badly.
"Here's water." He drank that too. "I have sandwiches when you can move. "
He opened his eyes. Three men from the Clan, plus his brothers and father, were building a filter dam of sorts, lined with big rolls of straw and mesh. Someone yelled from the other side of the property line, and An'stache hurried that direction. Karlu held him on the rock for a moment. "Not us."
"Not going to try," he managed. Lukaz eased to his feet. The world wagged back and forth, but did not spin or vanish. "I can walk."
"Benes."
He ate, drank more, and glanced inside himself. "I'm not Hunting or doing any magic for at least a day," he told Karlu.
"No, you're not. Father called and warned the magic workers and Ladislu.
You are off any calls until Monday at least. And Mistress Talyssa wants to know the spell you used, and how you used it, because that's not supposed to be possible.
" Karlu shook his head. "You are why I give thanks that I cannot work magic. "
He considered making a rude gesture, but that took effort. "I don't recommend it. I go to the house."
"Anno. An'stache and I finish the fence."
Indeed, his mother gave him a very firm look when he arrived at the porch. "Leave those boots, and put on clean pants. Please."
"Yes, ma'am." He slunk into the house, went up to his room, and peeled off the wet, muddy work pants.
And what was under them, because the mud got all the way through.
Wiped off and drier, he took the clothes to the mudroom and rinsed, then scrubbed the worst off himself.
If she splashed and got her cast wet ...
No. Most of the ground-in dirt came off, but he'd have stains, of course. Still not as bad as pig manure.
The other men returned an hour or so later.
After they ate, his father growled, "The county's going to have words with the renter, and with the neighbor for not checking on him.
They found more chemical, not properly stored.
The renter's sick from a reaction headache and couldn't answer questions for being ill.
" He sounded satisfied. Indeed, magic tended to inflict justice on the foolish.
And on every other magic worker. Lukaz passed the cake plate and drank more milk.
On Saturday, he held things and carried the tools as the others put the panels into place inside the wooden fence. The heavy metal mesh, backed by the wood, filled in the gaps and kept the pigs where they belonged, yet let air flow.
Come Monday, he felt better, but not completely himself.
Mistress Talyssa had pulled him aside after worship the night before and studied him.
"No magic this week," she declared. "Rest, rebuild your reserves.
We will discuss the spell and building endurance at the next lesson. " She smiled. "Very well done."
He bowed. "Thank you, ma'am."
Ladislu, head of the Hunters, had been listening in. "No Hunt this week. I move you to second reserve," he said, loudly enough for others to hear. "Copper and Rasi told me of the Hunt, and An'stache about the chemical spell. Rest, practice weak-hand shooting."
He did not groan. "Yes, sir. Off-side shooting." He hated using his weak hand and shooting cross-eye. Which meant he needed to do more of it.
"Tomorrow we turn the boars and others into the pasture," his father announced on Tuesday evening. "We've finished the fences and gates, and the water still tests sweet."
"Yes, sir," Lukaz murmured, then had more peas. He detested peas. The texture ... He glanced at his sister, then ate more. She'd ratted him out the last time he'd tried to add them to the pig slop. Yes, that had been a decade ago, but she'd probably do it again.
They started very early the next morning.
First they fed and watered the pigs that were ready to move to the pasture.
Then An'stache set the temporary posts into the ground.
Lukaz picked up the first of the temporary panels and set it into slots in the post, wiring it to the two posts, then getting the next plywood panel.
They wanted to keep the pigs from seeing out and from scattering anywhere but the pastures.
The Large Blacks went into one field, the Berkshires into another.
That meant two chutes starting at a Y. Why they couldn't do all the Large Blacks, then redo the chute and move the Berkshires remained a mystery.
"We've always done it this way," his father said every year.
Lukaz wired another panel into place and walked over to the stack.
Sunrise wouldn't come for another hour. His father wanted to get everything set while it was cool, then let the pigs out. Breakfast would follow.