Macarthy. The woman's voice filling my head at a much louder volume than could possibly be necessary. Get up here right now. A real time message from one of the Augurs holding my leash. One of the nine.
“There's no need to yell. It's... just after six. Why are you even up right now?”
Because of you. We need to make sure you're not causing mischief.
“We? How many of you busybodies are there?” No response. Putting my hands to my eyes and rubbing. “I'll be up there in twenty minutes. I need to take a shower and get ready.”
Now.
“Screw off. Twenty minutes.”
Getting to Garlands office twenty five minutes later, brushing out my still wet hair. The lady of the House and one of my leash holders in especially foul moods. They probably should've chosen to get more beauty rest.
“Come here. Tet me see that.” The Augur's non-attempt at greeting terse, and her hands grabbing for the collar.
“What were you doing yesterday?” Garland issuing her own demand.
“I did work in the morning, ran an errand or two, and then I went into the field.”
“I thought we'd already discussed this. I am permitting you to go out with them today, on four, otherwise you are to be at work on two and five.”
“I have a prior commitment with a friend on two. I told Bailee what I was doing and she had work waiting for me when I got back. I'm trying to uphold our arrangement while also living my life. I'm also trying to follow your rules while I'm here, but I'm only doing that out of politeness. You don't own me - and you certainly don't scare me - the only person around here I'm even remotely worried about pissing off is your husband. People think I'm crazy, and maybe I am, but he's on another level.”
“Jacob is a great man.” The woman puffing herself up. Her hands going to her protruding belly. The first real compliment she'd given anyone in my hearing. She's definitely overweight – fatter this year, than last - but this nightgown really shows her proportions. Fat in the face, certainly, but with her belly looking like that, it almost seems like she's pregnant. Which is impossible. “I absolutely will not tolerate you disrespecting him.” Garland's snarl breaking my momentary reverie.
“No disrespect intended. You and him seem to run this place pretty tight. Is everything satisfactory?”
The Augur releasing the collar with an exasperated puff of air.
***
Enjoying myself at my customary table for one - breakfast particularly tasty this morning - but then a visitor, an involuntary member of the Pact, gracing me with her presence. Her name escaping me, only the vague recollection of her class coming to mind. Druid. But that doesn't particularly narrow it down at Haven.
“Good morning.”
The girl looking up from her tray. Exhausted, not hostile, her eyelids drooping along with her mouth. “Missus Garland wants me to accompanying you on two and four. Macarthy.”
“You're my new escort? I was wondering if I was going to get another one of those. Glad to have you. And Lucy, please.” Reaching my hand across the table. Letting it hang out there. Wiggling it some. “You don't need to be so upset, I'm honestly interested in mending fences in whatever way I can.”
“Olivia.”
***
“I have enhancement magic.”
“Under no circumstances are you to do anything.” Foster's command crisp, clear and concise. A complete demonstration of his cluelessness.
“You don't understand, I have enhancement magic.”
“You're going to stay out of the way.”
“That's fine, I will. I can stay out of the way and enhance everyone's weapons at the same time. I realize I'm not particularly welcome, but I'd at least like to demonstrate that I'm not a complete burden.”
“Alright.” Foster unslinging his giant two handed axe and presenting it. “Let's see it, then.”
Unconcerned. He knows he can unravel whatever spell is put on his weapon if he doesn't like it, and if my paralysis somehow lucked out and affected him, he could probably undo it, too. Warder. Didn't even know that class existed before all this, had always assumed he'd been a Warrior. While the two seem similar enough, thinking back on it the differences are clear. Foster always had a more limited fighting style than most Warriors. Fewer simultaneous weapons, fewer tricks, and he's undoubtedly physically less resilient. In a toe to toe fight between him and Karson, Karson would win. Davos – Sly, rather, Sly – would probably also win a no surprises, straight up fight. Then again, Foster is neither lazy nor careless. He'd be prepared enough, and is tenacious enough, to make both of them have to earn it.
“There. What do you think?”
The man taking a few easy swings, the giant half moon blade stirring the air. Putting it in both hands, feeling the weight, and then taking a proper stance. The axe going up. Slicing down a couple inches in front of my face. The man staring me down the entire time. He could cut me down on a whim - we both know that. Staring back and not flinching as the axe had descended.
The man giving a satisfied grunt. “It's remarkable. You can do this for everyone?” Our entire group numbers twenty nine, along with some horses pulling two, long flatbeds. A few of the group going to one farm, a few going to another, some more going to a third, and then about a dozen of us heading to the hilly area that lay sandwiched between the haunted forest to the north and the mountain range just beyond that.
“Anyone who fights with weapons.”
“Get it done while we're heading out. And, Macarthy,” the man leaning down, almost putting his forehead to mine, “make sure to be polite when you ask them if you can do it. Or when you do anything else. Do I make myself clear?”
Snapping a salute. “Yes, sir.”
The man searching for any hint of mockery or rebelliousness, but then giving a satisfied nod. “Good.” Turning to Olivia, my new house appointed minder. “I don't think you'll have any issues, but if you do I'm here to help.” The girl thanking him, and then Foster turning to address the group. “I'm sure you already know that this is Macarthy, strange as it still may sound. After receiving any number of assurances, and after speaking with her now, I'm confident we have nothing to worry about. Let's head out.”
The members of the group picking up their things and following Foster's lead outside the gates. Making my way over to the group that was going to be heading to the nearest farm. Surprisingly, my greeting returned. Offering my assistance and, after only a brief hesitation, being taken up on the offer. Heading to the second group, my confidence boosted, and receiving a similar confirmation. The third group, the same. It's taken a few cycles of being here, but it looks like any prior animosity has largely been moved to the backburner. Approaching my old, discarded minder, Kyle, who'd been watching me perform my work with the others. Giving him a similar spiel, with some apologies up front.
“I apologize for the way I spoke to you when we first met, I was very stressed by my new situation, but I appreciate the hospitality the House has shown me and I'd like to make amends. To them and to you. If you'd like me to enchant your weapon today, I will. If you don't, I won't.”
“You're a lot more tolerable when you're asking nicely.” Leering. Giving me a once over, in spite my armor and cloak hiding nearly all my curves, his gaze settling just below my eyes. Just to be an ass. “If you say please, I'll consider it.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Fuck you. But please let me enchant your weapon. I'm a lot more useful when we're both on the same side, I assure you.”
The guy smirking at me, an ugly smirk saying he knows something. Nine Augurs. They saw me with Omen and one of them must've run one of their mouth. There's no other explanation for that look - unless Omen gossiped - nah, an Augur talking makes more sense. Foster said he'd gotten assurances, so he must've heard, but the man's professional enough not to make a big deal of it. Were any of the others like this? Was there any of this smugness hidden behind their polite words?
“C'mon, what're you waiting for?” Kyle holding out his weapon and smirking that ugly smirk. Creating the rune, the now complicated triangle bisected by the not quite capital T or J, with additional spikes in the middle to form the more complex design. “Now, what do you say?”
A thousand variations on a thousand various expletives fighting to reach the tip of my tongue. “You're welcome” slaughtering all comers and my barb of kindness killing his smug smirk. He probably didn't hear anything. It's probably an overreaction on my part. He was a shithead before and he's a shithead now.
Continuing my rounds and coming, at last, to the final member, the other member of the Pact among the group. The woman who'd been doing her best to appear to not be glaring at me the entire time. The Ranger, with her wolf beside her. Her response to my offer already clear. Changing my approach as a result.
“I have a favor. I'll owe you.”
“N- What?” Her curiosity getting the better of her.
“That wolf from before, Vesper, he's not mine, but he's a friend of mine. He asked me if he could see yours again.” Her wolf perking her ears up. “He wants to see her, but obviously that's up to you.”
“He asked you? If he's not yours, how do you know that's what he asked?”
“He's pretty smart. When he wants to get his meaning across, he can. He's usually straight forward, sometimes a little mischievous, but he's obviously as smart as any of them.”
The Ranger squinting at me before turning to look at her pet. Several moments passing. “Livy,” she says, addressing the girl who'd been following me the entire time, and who'd kept her mouth firmly shut the entire time, “what do you think?”
“Macarthy is,” the girl pausing, “probably not up to anything. At least with this. Hey, Macar- Lucy, who owns that wolf you're talking about?”
“He was my, um... That is, we were going out with each other and, um... He was a friend before everything got all fucked up this time around. He doesn't want to see me again.” Him and Kate. Him, for his bruised ego, and Kate, for her overwhelming disappointment. But maybe helping one wolf will transfer to better relations with the other. Olivia staring at me, and her friend, the Ranger, doing the same. Bringing a hand up to wipe something out of my eye. “If there's anything I've learned in my time here it's that sometimes things don't work out.” The words thick and rubbery. “Sometimes nothing works out. Shit, I thought I was getting over this.”
“What's his name?”
Managing to regain control and this time the words not choking themselves. “He's this guy at Stormhawk. His name's Dominic.”
***
Haven has a pretty sweet gig going. The way they deal with the exceptionally deadly Worms seems obvious now, but Foster telling me to keep myself out of the way had been good advice. Only would have gotten in their way that first time. The experience is also great, and if that's what they were focused on getting they'd probably all be way up there. Well, after doing this however long they've been doing it, they've probably all made decent progress, regardless.
The pack animals and transports had been to haul two of the giant corpses back. After two Worms had been lured, subdued and summarily executed, we'd spent the rest of the time loading them up and strapping them down - all while defending against other giant insects streaming in from the stirred up hive, as well as another unexpected Worm. A couple hours going out there, a couple hours coming back, and several very busy hours in the middle hauling and loading up the damn things while defending ourselves. The only other materials they'd collected had been scraps, mandibles and such, from some of the other bugs.
Most importantly, working with them all day and doing my best to step in where possible – and disjuncting more than my fair share of stones, in the process – had led to something of a detente. They'd even invited me to join their customary team dinner after we'd gotten back. All in all, the members seem to be battle hardened and used to working together. The way they talk with each other, the way they banter, is relatable. Definitely much more relatable than the others at Haven. The group that stays in town does nothing but jealously tend their little two by two plots, entirely consumed by interpersonal irrelevancies.
Returning after dinner to my cozy, little room at about a quarter to seven. Removing my extra heavy pack and taking out the rubbery brick inside, a piece of a Worm's hide Reshaped into a smaller, denser form. The brick maybe a tenth the size it had been in it's normal all stretched out state.
There are some, a few, pieces of clothing made entirely out of spider's silk floating around the world. They exist, at least. One had actually been in my possession back at the guild. In general, however, the cost and difficulty of amassing enough silk to produce new ones simply isn't worth the effort, but given the way Reshape works the spell should, theoretically, allow for much cheaper materials to emulate the strength of spider's silk, albeit with relatively more weight. Maybe it'll also allow my softer leather armor to be fitted with some tougher, denser plates. Maybe. One project at a time.
After a long, lazy shower changing into some comfortable clothing and returning to my current project, Riley's gift. The simple, nondescript and inexpensive linked steel bracelet sitting undisturbed where it had been left on the desk. From my initial, and only, attempt a couple days ago, the process seems straightforward, but the difficulty is definitely providing the requisite power needed to make the whole process come together and stick.
Emptying out the pouch containing all of the disjuncted pebbles acquired over the course of the day, nearly all green and yellow but one noticeably larger, yellow and brown. Picking up one of the smaller ones and examining it. Really peering at it. According to the spell this should be condensed energy, but it doesn't look anything like that. It only seems like a rock. A colorful little rock, but nothing seems particularly special about it. Ink's able to see something in them – and her brother was the same way, using that magnifying glass to see something. They both did different tests to these things, so maybe doing what they did will stir something up? Bouncing my colorful little rock against the table. Has a better bounce than a regular rock, but doing that doesn't seem to – wait, maybe...? Maybe there was a hint of something on the bounce, but nothing now.
Hmm, what's missing. Crystallized energy. So basically mana condensed into crystallized form. A little ball of crystallized mana sitting there. Unmoving. At equilibrium. Maybe it works the opposite of infusing items. The power is sitting there at rest and it naturally wants to stay sitting at rest. Being jostled may momentarily shake it loose, but then it naturally wants to go back to staying at rest. However, if something nearby starts pulling at it, maybe that current equilibrium will become unbalanced and the crystallized mana sitting at rest will choose to naturally flow in that direction. It's as good a theory as any.
Checking the time, twenty five till. Okay, take this nice and slow and make sure to get it right. Moving all the disjuncted stones away from the immediate work area and getting my boots back on. The Runic Circle still active on the bottom of the sole. Creating the series of runes for Engrave on the table, a rough square, and inserting the Rune of Warding structure at each juncture. Connecting, connecting, connecting. Stepping back and surveying the work. Okay, that looks - fixing that one – okay, looks good. Looping both thumbs through the linked chain and steadying myself at the table. Five minutes to the hour. Gathering the mana together and activating the rune structure.
Feels exactly the same as an object that's being Infused, the same sort of siphon sucking out my mana - now easy to control after these past several cycles charging items - but this particular item feeling more like a bottomless pit, taking in mana with no end in sight. Feeding it a slow, gentle stream. The hour striking and the tick putting my mana very near to full, once again. Dropping the connection to a mere trickle.
Picking up one of the stones and bringing it closer to bracelet. Inert, as always. No sense of magnetism pulling it toward the siphon, no sense of heat from the stone indicating any sort of energy flow. Maybe give it another tap on the desk to break whatever's in there loose.
Tap. Tap.
There was a little something, a little flake of something that moved. Maybe it needs a much bigger tap to get the process started. Lifting the stone all the way above my head and smacking it on the desk with all my might.
Oh shi-
The sudden heat and flash of pain in my hand the only warning, letting go of the stone and trying to shield my face out of desperation. A blast of light filling my vision, a shockwave rumbling through the table, and a loud boom filling the room. The uncontrolled pulse of energy mostly sucked into the now hungry vortex and the confines of the rune structure starting to distend - a vision of the disrupted ritual with Koln very briefly replaying, my face and hands replacing the wail of his spirit getting sucked into the ether. Clutching the desk. Don't let that happen. Hold it together. Hold it. The raging whirlpool gradually slowing it's spin, finally returning to a trickle once again. Releasing my held breath.
Okay, damage assessment.
The hand that smacked the stone is throbbing, my palm raw and red. A burning hair smell prominent and all the stones that had been on the edge of the desk had scattered themselves and bounced around the room. A scorch mark on the table showing where the stone had struck, but the runes themselves still in fully operating order. Okay, this is it. Don't stop, keep going. It doesn't hurt that bad, just don't concentrate on it. Spotting a stone nearby, slightly out of reach. Using the shield to grab for it out of habit.
On contact another pulse of energy coming from this stone. Much smaller than the unrestrained burst, more focused and more controlled. The energy from the stone using me as a bridge, traveling through me and into the rune structure. A banging sound from behind, my door flies open without even a knock. Was it not locked? It should've been locked. The Druid who'd been assigned as my new minder standing inside the frame.
“M- Lucy, there was this loud-” The absolute barest pause as she takes in the scene. “What do you think you're doing in here?”
They put her right next door. Figures. Lousy, snooping, inconsiderate- wait, she's here now, no reason not to put her to work.
“What a relief. There's about a dozen, or so, of these little stones that went flying all over. I need you to get them together for me. And I need my herb pouch. Please.”