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Norton, Andre – Elvenblade 2 – Elvenblood (With Mercedes Lackey)

He felt a flush of anger crawling up his face, and forced himself to calm down.

It won’t be this way forever, he promised himself. It may not even stay this way for long. The other senior wizards have been listening, lately, when I’ve tried to show them reason. There are probably a lot of them looking at holes in the stone and thinking now that I was right. Shana brought all this on us; there’s no reason for us to listen and obey when Shana and those dragons start upsetting the proper order.

There was every reason for the older and wiser wizards to start returning things to the proper order. They were no longer under a state of siege, nor were they trudging through the wilderness. It was time to set things right again.

And if Parth Agon would not take care of the task, Caellach Gwain was just the man to see that things did get back to normal.

But meanwhile—

He surveyed the hard stone floor with ill grace. Supposedly—provided that their so wise “leader” hadn’t appropriated the children for some other “necessary” task—the human children had been sent down to the river in the valley to cut reeds for bedding. Supposedly they should have made several trips by now, and there should be many bundles stacked up on the riverbank, waiting for someone to come get them. That floor was going to be cursed cold to sleep on without something between him and it.

He started to call for one of his apprentices to start fetching bundles of reed down here, recalled that he had no apprentices now, and stopped himself with a growl.

Well, at least she can’t forbid me to do this the logical way, he thought hotly. Cursed if I’ll carry all those bundles down here by hand!

He didn’t need a scrying crystal to locate the bundles of reed; that was for mere apprentices. He was a senior wizard and above such crude necessities. He simply concentrated and called upon his powers—

A glowing, ball-shaped haze of light appeared in the center of the cave, and within a heartbeat or two, the unmistakable shapes of reed bundles formed within it.

He wondered for a moment, as the power drained from him a bit, how many he should take.

As many as I can fetch! He decided. And we’ll just let them see who the senior wizards are!

He made a mental “grab” for his target, and with an audible thud, a dozen bundles dropped to the stone floor, bringing with them the scent of fresh air and river water.

He surveyed his prizes with smug satisfaction. He had really only needed three bundles of that size for an adequate bed, but—

But they can cut more. They’re not even apprentices. And for once, I’m going to nave the comfort I deserve.

After all, it was only what was rightfully due him.

“So now we have water,” Denelor told Shana, gesturing at the filling pool of spring water with a smile of tired satisfaction on his round, good-humored face. He was thinner than he had been; months of hiking across the wilderness had trimmed off the excess pounds he’d carried, and had tanned his skin to a warm brown, against which his thinning hair seemed whiter than ever. “I think I can even replicate some of the old magics with help, eventually, and we’ll have real running water all over the Citadel, hot and cold, in a few years. When I was an apprentice, I used to have to work on the plumbing, so I’m partly familiar with it.” A look of determination replaced the smile. “What the first wizards learned to do, surely we, too, can rediscover.”

Shana smiled back; her old mentor Denelor had done an amazing job of adapting to this new life. She would have expected him to throw in his lot with the “old whiners,” but instead he had turned into one of the first to try and work out a solution to problems as they arose.

“In the meantime,” he was saying, “I can get water to a kitchen area and a bathing area next to it; tomorrow the dragons will be sculpting rubs with drains for baths, laundry, washing things, and the means to actually drain the dirty water away without contaminating our fresh water. They’re already putting in chimneys and fireplaces today—for now, to heat the water, all we have to do is heat stones and drop them into a filled tub. We won’t be able to cook a stew or a soup, or brew more than a cupful of tea, though, until we find a way to get big pots.”

“Food won’t be a problem,” she assured him. “There’s plenty of game in the forest, plenty of edible plants down there, too, I suspect. You won’t even have to actually hunt, just bring in the game magically, the way we used to steal supplies, and you know it’ll arrive dead.”

Denelor chuckled; obviously he still remembered the way Shana had casually magicked in a huge buck elk when she first arrived, easily ten times the weight he, her master, had thought she would be able to handle. Shana had known better, of course, but he didn’t believe her until she demonstrated her ability.

“At least it won’t be mutton,” he replied comfortably. “That is one aspect of the old Citadel that I will not miss; it was convenient to have that flock of sheep there, but one grew very tired of everlasting mutton.”

He turned to go back up to the next level above this, the one where living quarters would now actually start, since this lowest level had been usurped by the water. The other two followed, their footsteps echoing up the slanting tunnel. “Does anyone here actually know how to make anything?” Mero asked. “You know, make pots, build things with their hands? You’re going to need a lot of things, from bed frames to clothing, and you won’t be able to get them from the elves anymore. Can you make things magically that will last? The elven lords can, some of them.”

Denelor shrugged, and eyed his rather worn tunic ruefully. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I must admit that I had an idea that was very, very tempting, though. We’re forbidden to steal from the elves—but is there any reason why we can’t steal from ourselves?”

Shana frowned. “I’m not sure I follow you,” she said doubtfully, as they reached the place where the tunnel flattened out, and other cave mouths opened up on it.

“Well, we don’t think the elves looted the Citadel after we left it, correct?” her former master said. “We don’t even know for certain if they actually found it, since they were really looking for us, and not our hiding place.”

Shana nodded. “They could have destroyed everything in sight just out of spite, though, if they did find it.” she warned. “They’re like that.”

“Yes, but I don’t think they actually found it, and I’m sure they never had time to really do much but superficial damage,” Denelor persisted. “I’m sure that they have some kind of magical guard placed around the forest, and I’m sure they have regular patrols there now, but I rather doubt they have a mage-shield about it—and even if they did, Shana, I am sure you can break it.”

She flushed. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” she demurred, “but I think I see where your reasoning is going. And honestly—I can’t think of any reason why we shouldn’t start systematically bringing things out. I know it’s a long way from here to there, but with several of us younger wizards combining our powers and using gemstones, I think we can do it. It would make our lives a great deal easier.”

“Especially if we start by bringing out furnishings and whatnot for the whiners,” Mero put in sourly, shoving his hands in his breeches pockets and grimacing. “Then maybe they’d shut up for a while.”

Denelor sighed; Shana knew he had been hearing nearly as many complaints as she had. The thought had occurred to me, too. The talk about how Shana has ‘deprived’ them of their ‘rights’ might die down a little. Could you get your little circle of friends together, Shana, the ones mat know how to work with stones? I think you’re right; they will be the only ones with a long enough range to successfully scry out the place and bring things back.”

She grinned. “And they’re also the only ones who’ve crawled all over the Citadel, down all the unused passages. I think you’re right; even if the elves got in there and did some destruction, they won’t have gotten into the older sections, and there are still furnished rooms and the like back there. Old Caellach may not get his bed, but we’ll get him a bed, and whatever other gear he thinks he needs, too.”

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Categories: Norton, Andre
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