9. N #3
He reached into the larger wallet and pulled out a thick stack of ration coupons, counted out a thousand, and added a few more.
“Three years rations.”
He could see her eyes, see her hunger, and even her thoughts. I could get my life back.
“What would I have to do?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. Literally. Nothing … don’t report the girl. She was spell-carved. What’s done is done. Can’t unring that bell. So, walk away and keep the rations.”
He used his index finger to nudge one of the gold bars towards her.
“cities are always looking for physicians. One of the few trades that still allows emigration between cities. A spell-sculptor can get a new start, with her husband, and a bit of gold. Get an appointment as a birth lord’s personal physician, with the right clothing,
and rations to pass on to smooth the way. No more fighting for scraps.”
He could see the miracle he dangled reflected in her eyes. He couldn’t claim to be the master of other’s thoughts, but he knew hers well enough. She wants it … now she has to talk herself into it.
She stared at the gold for a long time. “Well, ah, the sculpting was done a long time ago, and, ah, wasn’t done here, so no one here was to blame.” He watched her, amused at her transparency as her sense of duty and self-respect warred with what he offered … her chance to regain a life she’d lost.
He wasn’t sure how to seal the deal. Then, inspiration struck.
The balm to help her save her self-respect.
“Think of all the people you can help. All the desperate poor you can heal in your spare time. In your new city. Where you can start fresh. Sapphirine perhaps. Beautiful city. Built on solid rock. No Predators.”
He wasn’t sure any of the description was true, but that didn’t really matter.
She licked her lips, thinking. Then, she took the bait. “Yes. Everyone I can help.”
He had her. “Here, take these. I know people in Sapphirine. I can get you the papers. I can get you passage. And when you go, then the gold will be my present.”
He put the ration coupons back into the wallet, and stepped close to her, and pressed them into her hands.
He could smell her sweat and underlying fear.
He could also see the tiny tremors that betrayed her nervousness.
He stepped close to her, too close for her comfort, and caught her chin gently in his hand.
It was a parody of a prelude to a kiss. He brushed his hand lightly along the edge of her jaw, and felt her fear.
“Remember. Not a word.” He stepped back, freeing her. He considered adding the threat, then decided that cheapened the gesture. She would understand without words what he could do to her. Probably more than he could, or actually would do … but no need for her to know that.
She nodded quickly and turned away, and headed for the door and clutching the wallet to her chest. She was out in a moment, leaving him alone with his thoughts … and a sizable hole in his emergency reserves.
He sat back down at this desk, and blew out a heavy breath. He had solved the physician, at least for the time being. The rations and gold would keep his secret longer. King Alliard might know, and a few others, but the gold and rations would keep the world from knowing, at least for now.
Triana. The damned woman was not only abusing his hospitality, but she had gotten very expensive as well. He was getting good information from the conversations with the tutor, all dutifully transcribed and submitted.
Still, Triana’s tendency for night outings had to be curtailed, especially if he had his own secrets to keep.
The gods of fate like their little jokes, and it would be just his luck for her to witness the whole bloody show.
Locks. Double locks. Spelltrapped, and a guard.
Correction … no guard. Who knew who was on King Alliard’s payroll?
Haldeen tapped his toe nervously as the Gate behind him came to life while the city slumbered.
No particular sound came from it, and no fancy effects.
The Gate signaled its status with a pearlescent surface traced by tiny ripples.
All fairly mundane as spell effects went.
He had seen the effect enough to have lost his early wonder over the miracle he worked every night …
opening a portal to and through the World Gate itself, powering it from here, and then opening the World Gate to pass to another world.
No one thought this was possible. The calculations proved too complex, the incantations too tricky, and the amount of power simply too great to channel through the small Gate he used for experiments. Until he did it.
The mage-lights in the lab began to wink out, as the Gate drew in the ambient power from the southern portion of the city.
He lit several well-burned tapers to light the room while the mage-lights went dark.
He knew from experience this would be the first place in the city to lose its ambient magic, and its lights, but that the estate and the city would follow them into darkness.
He lit a candle in a holder, picked up the control rod, and activated the Probe.
It unfolded from its crouched position in its cage.
“Come on, you. Can’t trust you to scout about on your own, so have to go and do it myself.”
He gestured with the control rod. It followed him as he went to the Gate.
No wonder it’s been worthless. After I addled its brains, I made sure there would be just enough to keep the heart beating … .
He took a deep breath to try and still his thumping heart.
He did not view himself as a physical coward, but he had an active imagination, and knew what could go wrong.
The cave … the whatever … that lay on the other side of the Gate represented the sort of dangers best handled by well armed steely-eyed killers, and not balding, paunchy Lords Technical.
He took a deep breath and began gathering equipment that might be needful that he threw into a shoulder bag.
Control rods of various types, some blueprints, a set of tools, a bottle of wine, some odds and ends of food, a blanket that he had left for padding on a bench, and a handful of candles and mage-lights.
He looked over the contents before closing the sack, and took a deep breath.
He needed to do this now, before he talked himself out of it.
He turned abruptly and his sleeve caught a half-bottle of wine he had rejected as being likely to spill. The bottle fell to the floor and the wine poured out as he cursed and tried to catch it.
Well, it was out of the way at least. I’ll clean it up when I get back.
He slid his shoulder into the strap and pulled the control rod for the probe from his belt, summoning it. He walked to the Gate. My first trip to another world. He felt his will begin to fail.
Its surface rippled slightly where it should have been milk smooth and silvery white.
He’d noted the phenomenon before, spent a little time trying to solve it, then ignored it when it hadn’t seemed to affect the Probe.
Now that he planned to essay the thing himself, that small little quirk didn’t seem so small anymore.
All right, just a few quick checks to try and figure out what’s causing that … .
But no. He was just trying to find a way to delay things. He knew himself well enough to know that if he gave in to that, then he would never find the nerve.
He put his head down, ignored the ripples, and stepped through.