We divided the labor with Khan speaking to Melisande to calm her down and try to get more information from her and me cleaning and applying first aid to Tyr's hand. Personally, I would have preferred to switch roles, less because she was my sister, and more because I was better at investigative interrogation than Khan. Mostly though, I wanted to switch because despite being a near immortal god Tyr was a baby about being doctored. Admittedly I had to make the injury worse to fix it first. Melisande had somehow heated her sword enough when she stabbed him that it partially cauterized the wound. I'd started by cutting out the pieces of burned flesh and then had to pack a handful of herbs into the wound to slow the bleeding. The entire time he kept jerking his arm around and swearing in just about every Slavic and Norwegian dialect known to man and a few languages I was sure had never been used on Earth. I was glad I'd finally found the part of my subconscious that controlled the translating energy construct and shut it down, I wasn't sure I wanted to know what accusations he was making about me or my lineage. I felt justified in taking the opportunity to feed off of his energy while I worked. He could survive without the amount of energy I would be using tonight and possibly over the next few days, on the other hand it was entirely possible that the energy of a whole human city wouldn't be enough to satisfy my hunger or my needs.
“Tyr, if you don't stop moving I will cut off your arm and use the most painful methods I can find to regrow it from the outside in. As it stands my plans for the night are already going to be delayed by having to go to Asgard first and speak with Freyja about healing the wound so you won't be useless to me.”
Melisande finally stood up and came over. Once inside the house I had relaxed enough that now I could see the room’s interplay of energy as well as the nearly constantly flowing energy of my wards inside the walls. Outside of mine or Melisande's homes, I had to constantly shield or run the risk of going insane from watching the constant movement and interaction of energy. Being a psychic vampire was a two-edge sword. I was more aware of others’ emotions and could feel their emotions almost as keenly as my own and I saw the interaction of different energies overlaying the physical world. Some people spent their lives just learning how to sense the things I dedicated an inordinate amount of effort to not seeing and were willing to spend twice as much power as I did to not see. At the same time though that sensitivity gave me an aptitude for manipulating energy and power that was nearly unrivaled, I often joked with Melisande that it was fate's private joke on us that people that hated dealing with others were forced to do so or risk dying of starvation.
“I'll take care of things here little brother. I hear you have to go save the world, better get to it. I'll leave some food out for the foxes and those raccoons and take Bluff to my place. I'm sure the girls will be happy to have another play mate for a few days.”
I nodded and gave an unnecessarily rough poke to the flesh around Tyr's hand before tying off the bandage around it. I’m not above petty cruelties for vengeance; I was a bit miffed that he'd drank half the liquor I'd been collecting for the last ten years though he'd avoided my wines which was nice since some of them were nearly impossible to find.
“Thanks sis try not to burn anyone important while I’m gone. Would you mind giving me a ride to the top of the Peak? I'll need to take some of my bags and I don't want to leave the truck on the mountain. Just let me get ready and pack some tools up. Also, Thoth or Hephaestus may stop by with information for me at some point if you can hold onto it for me, I'd be appreciative.”
I headed up the stairs beside the front door and into the spare bedroom I had turned into a personal armory. I pushed aside a table covered in a variety of arrow heads and shafts to reach the gun safe in the back corner. I knelt down and began carefully disarming each layer of wards on the gun safe before opening it. None of those were lethal but they could freeze a person where they stood and send out a warning until I had time to come investigate. The next set was trickier, I let my eyes wander over the brilliant neon patterns of the energy surrounding the bundle that was the only thing in the gun safe and found the right spot before slipping out a pocket knife and slicing my thumb open with a slight wince of pain and pressed it to the key point to unravel the first layer then took a deep breath.
“Ddeffr-gwarcheidwad, I Mewn'r enwa chan'r Hiâ Dadogi ddeffro a gollwng ata 'ch beichia.” The worlds rolled off my tongue smoothly though I was sure any Welshman would be embarrassed at my butchering of the language, but it was close enough for what I needed. There was a sudden sense of awareness and what before had been a bundle of cloth turned into a small, blue colored, dragon like, creature that stretched and yawned before blinking its eyes at me and vanishing with a puff of snow that covered me and most of the room in a thin layer of powder.
Note to self, ice drakes make temperamental guards for objects. At least he'd settled for dusting the room in snow instead of conjuring a blizzard down on the area. I carefully picked up the sword and belt that the drake had been wrapped around and then turned to retrieve a set of chainmail armor from a nearby foot locker. Ever since the trip last year that had taken me to another dimension and kick started my past life recollections, I had filled the room with a small army's worth of swords, spears, and maces I’d crafted. There was also armor stored either in trunks, on racks, on the wall, or in display cases. After a few moments I was dressed and inspecting myself in the long mirror that occupied a corner of my bedroom.
The armor was a work of art. The rings were miniscule in size and so finely woven together that only a detailed examination with a good microscope would show the individual rings that had each been welded together rather than the more common one in three method I had learned. To a naked eye the chest guard, sleeves, hood and even the leggings appeared to be made of woven silver and had been wrapped and doubled over to encase a heavy set of surprisingly flexible but thick leather armor so that it was actually three layers of protection.
Despite the high quality of metal used in the construction and the thick leather in the center layer the whole thing weighed perhaps two pounds and was barely more than an inch thick- heavy enough to turn aside a blade or stop a crossbow bolt but still thin enough to be hidden under a shirt. The blade belted at my waist in a silver and crystal inlaid sheath was even more impressive and was the only object I had brought back with me from my time physically away from Earth, aside from the armor. My personal emblem: an eight-pointed star bound in a circle and the Norse rune Isa in its center was on both the belt buckle and the breast of the armor.
The sword was a wondrous thing both to gaze on and to wield. Its balance was so precise it could be stood on its tip without moving or rest on a razor edge without tipping. A simple enchantment left it free of rust and corrosion and made sure it always shone like silver. The edge was sharp enough to cut through even the finest of steels with ease, the hilt and cross guard formed a standing angel with its wings spread wide, head thrown back, and arms raised over its head to support the base of the blade where the enchanted steel merged seamlessly with the smooth silver of the angel’s body. The angel itself stood upon a spherical pommel of perfectly clear quartz crystal the size of a half dollar coin. On one side of the pommel inlaid with crushed sapphires was the Norse rune Isa, on the opposite, inlaid with crushed rubies this time, was the Norse rune Kenaz. At the bottom of it was the eight-pointed star bound within a circle that symbolized the family that was my soul’s origin. Each major line was made of inlaid crushed black diamond, the point of each star a different color gemstone to represent each of the eight prime elements.
As I grasped the hilt, I was amazed again at how smooth the hilt was and yet I knew it would never slip no matter how wet or blood slicked it became. I’d out on a set of leather bracers I'd developed for throwing spikes that let me hurl the small metal tips with a flick of my wrist and then a set of wrist sheaths under the bracers that each held three more knives of differing metals that were stamped with runes along the center. A nylon mesh harness supported the sheaths of two more plain short swords based on the roman gladii and held the hilts just above my hips so I could draw them by crossing my arms.
The uniform made me look like some sort of avenging knight about to descend on the wicked, which after I considered it might not be far from the truth. I sighed as I realized I still had more packing to do. I snatched an empty set of old fashioned courier bags from a rack in the corner, tossed my dirty clothes in the hamper and headed back down stairs.
Khan was sitting on Tyr's stomach with a paw on my sister's head beside him. Tyr had Melisande's sword a few inches from her throat and she'd managed to drive two of her knives into his wrist between the delicate bones there. I'll give my sister this much; she knows her way around the human body better than most doctors and could put a knife just about anywhere she wanted for the desired result. As long as those two knives stayed in place Tyr wouldn't be able to move his wrist without cutting off his good hand.
I sighed, pulled out a heavy leather traveler's cloak I'd gotten during the local renaissance festival a few years ago, and nodded to Khan as I went back to my overly cluttered and under organized work room. (Don't look at me like that. You try and figure out a system that accounts for a customer’s gaming system and yeti slaying implements at the same time.) I began piling various items into the bags and multitude of coat pockets.
A small cupboard held a stash of dried fruit and meat that went into an inside coat pocket, the rations would last me about a week if I ate small meals. I filled one of the bags with a collection of crystals that would make most rock collectors drool and the other was stuffed full of packages filled with herbs each wrapped in combinations of colored cloth and string so I could identify them with a glance. I filled more coat pockets with a collection of vials filled with different alchemy ingredients and potions I thought might be handy. After that it came down to which knives and focus items to bring.
I rolled aside a few work benches stacked with computers in various states of assembly and repair and started sorting through the items. A set of crystal and blue wire arm bands that boosted my defensive shields as well as my control over my energy went on each arm. I stuffed a dozen more metal and crystal items in my pocket that I'd used as the physical anchors for a dozen really nasty energy constructs I'd developed over the last year and made a mental note of what was where. It would be rude and inconvenient to blow someone up if I sat down on something by accident. Five minutes later and I was loaded for lion, bear, alien or god. The whole process of preparation from selecting gear to packing it only took me ten minutes.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I walked out to the kitchen noted the steady billow of anger and rage from Tyr and Melisande. Khan, for his part just felt mildly annoyed. I pulled a Mt. Dew and a sandwich out of the fridge, sat down in the breakfast nook, and ate my afternoon snack quietly while I broadcast waves of calm and relaxation at the two. I washed down the last bite with a swig of caffeine and approached the trio. After a few awkward moments and some inappropriate hand placement on my sister, I'd taken away the other thirteen blades, gotten the sword from Tyr, and removed the two blades from his wrist. I tossed the lot of them across the room in a jumble of sharp edges that I was sure played hell on my hardwood floors.
“Melisande this is twice in one day you've resorted to violence first. For someone with your diplomatic skills I'm disappointed. And Tyr you’re a guest. I would expect a Norse deity especially, to behave better as such than to take another guest’s weapon and attack them with it. If I find you've violated my hospitality again, I will feed your balls to Fenrir, put a yew spear in your heart, bury you weapon and armor-less without an alu, and be quit of you till Ragnarök comes, are we clear?” He made an audible gulping sound and Melisande looked suitably abashed so I nodded to Khan who withdrew his paw from my sister's head and got off of Tyr. I gestured and both found seats on the couches in the living room, Tyr sitting stiffly and Melisande sprawling artfully as though posing for a photo shoot.
“So, who wants to tell me what happened?”
“She claimed I was inadequate!”
“He propositioned me and accused Loki of being a liar!”
They shouted over each other and I waved a hand for silence. Frustration clear in my expression and the emotions I was radiating. I didn't give a damn if my shields were low enough to let anyone in the room with an ounce of awareness know what I was feeling, I did not need this.
“Khan? You seem to be the only witness present with a cool head would you mind explaining things to me?” The large tiger batted a few large tasseled pillows that were strewn about on the floor and furniture of the room into a pile walked in a circle around it and plopped down on them.
“Tyr asked when she was going to get rid of the worthless upstart and the foolish liar she was married to now and shack up with a real god- his exact words. Melisande informed him that when a real god with something to offer in bed proposed she might consider it. He grabbed her sword, she stabbed him, and I interceded before you had a corpse.”
I sighed, for some reason most war gods were worse than frat boys about taking offense when you implied they were less than well-endowed even if it was true. When it came to matters of honor and pride people like me, Tyr, and my sister had the original view on the matter; namely any implication that either was less than perfect was valid grounds to be called out for a duel to the death. Granted with the gods it was more like a duel to the exhaustion, duels to the death got a bit harder when you could pick your head up and put it back on after it was lopped off. The fact that both Tyr and my sister had started by insulting and Tyr had escalated to violence was not conductive to me staying in a good mood.
“Okay. First off, I won’t broke an argument on this Melisande. Tyr, I want you to tell this to everyone: My sister, regardless of whoever or whatever else she may be, is off limits unless she’s involved with them already or she starts it. That or they can duel me on my world. And second, I don't need all my memories to know that a god of tricks, subterfuge, and mischief will be better in bed than any but a god of sex. Let it go, if you don't I will give you to Odin bound and hobbled and stripped naked hanging from a spear and inform him you violated guest rights.”
I shifted around in my chair and fixed my sister with a scowl. “And if you ever again attack or provoke an attack from someone I'm treating as a guest I will find a way to strip you, hog tie you, and drop you stark naked and helpless in the middle of Dante's second circle of hell. I give even you less than a week before you're begging for a change of scenery or the last few strands of your sanity snap. Now both of you. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.”
Tyr was pale and looking for a corner to crawl into, and while I loved my sister the look of terror on her face was nearly priceless. While I couldn't say how I knew instinctively that I could make good on the threats they both nodded and I stood.
“Good. Tyr, I'm going to trust you to find your own way home. I'll meet you there. Tell Freyja that I'll be coming along shortly. Mel, you and me need to drive up to Devil's Playground, it's the nearest Starpath I've been able to identify.”
I picked up my bags and grabbed the keys to my old banged and battered, but still trusty, suburban that I’d nicknamed Kodiak and headed out to the back of the house where it was parked. I tossed my bags in the back of the car and glanced at the sun to check the time. Me and watches haven’t gotten along well since I was a teenager. For some reason, they just keep dying on me. A well-meaning friend had bought me an old-fashioned pocket watch that had to be wound regularly and somehow after a few days around me its guts were welded together, I gave up on watches after that.
Melisande came out a few minutes later while I was doing breathing exercises and drawing together both my mental and physical shields. I nodded as she jumped into the driver's seat and looked back at the storage area with a low whistle. I glanced back as Khan jumped through the back window and grinned.
Okay so maybe my memories of my past lives were a fragmented jumble, maybe what I could recall was more pain and warfare than happy moments. But I was human now with human ingenuity and every now and then that meant I came up with some really cool stuff. For example, the back of the Kodiak may look normal if you were looking at it from the outside but if you were inside it was a lot bigger. I didn't need my shields lowered to feel the low thrum of the wards and constructs that were layered around the thing. I'd stocked it with enough camping and survival gear to supply a good size Boy Scout troop, and one side of it was filled with old military ammo boxes that contained more crystals for focusing and ritual work, at least a hundred knives, and some canned and dried food stuff for emergencies. Between the supplies stuffed in the back and the layers of shields, wards, and constructs I'd spent months working into the frame of the suburban and in a few places carving into the metal under the carpet in the back, the thing could survive just about anything shy of a nuclear assault without batting an eye.
“Planning an assault on Fort Knox? I've seen siege engines with less defenses.”
“No though you would not believe the amount of effort and ritual work I had to commit to embedding the wards and seals into the metal, and faking injuries so I could get blood transfusions. Actually, I'm surprised that you didn't feel it at home. Mainly I made it figuring it would be a good idea to have a kinda, home away from home, safe haven I could take on the road if I had to go out of town for a long time.” We buckled up fighting the touchy seat belt reels. The Kodiak was large and powerful and built like a small tank but it had its flaws. The temperamental belts and lack of a radio being the main ones.
“So how long?”
“Since my memories were triggered or I started serving as guardian? About a year, I think. Two or three months before I came to you about restarting our old training regimen. Synbel had chased a trollkin here. I stumbled across the fight a few hundred yards off the millennium trail near Cripple Creek. After we realized who I was I came back here as fast as possible.” I paused to turn around in the seat and grab a bottle of water for myself.
“He used his position with among the guardians to get me listed on the roster as Earth's guardian. Mostly I've been doing damage control. An unlucky group of teens in San Francisco managed to summon one of the fallen that I barely banished. There was a trip to India where I managed to fake the execution of a Naga after it was convicted of stealing a museum exhibit on rare pearls. I had a tussle with a pack of hell hounds that was hunting in Toronto, and then there was that Rakshasa that started rampaging around in Turkey. That last one was hard, remember that programming convention in Albuquerque I had you spend a few weeks house sitting for?” I knocked back half my water and twisted the cap back on.
“I was wondering about that actually you haven't left this place since you first got it, then suddenly you start going out of town all the time. That month away kinda made me twitch. I mean you computer geeks have always been prone to loosing time but that was excessive. How have you been getting around anyways? I know you haven't been flying, you would have needed a ride to the airport and you've been leaving The Kodiak and Blue Bird at home.” I winced my chest and arms were still a bit sore when I thought about that last fight.
“Yeah, I was actually down in Albuquerque, staged a mugging with myself as the victim, stashed my wallet and gear, faked memory loss about who I was, altered my finger prints so that they didn't have a match in the police database, and spent the time in the hospital recuperating with eight cracked ribs, a collapsed lung, a cracked skull, and my leg broken in four places. I had to blow most of my energy repairing the chunk of flesh the damn thing ate out of the side of my stomach. After a few weeks in the hospital, I started taking walks and feeding off the people in ER to speed up my healing. Then, after I was well enough to move about and didn't need drugs to keep from wincing with every breath, I vanished and collected my gear and spent some time on a local reservation healing up the rest of the way. As for the travel, I've actually had to use leyline walking to get around. I found a few doorways, but turns out that thanks to the seals Council has crisscrossing this planet for whatever bizarre reason they have, the blighted things are so unstable it's like jumping under a guillotine as it drops and hoping that you keep your head.” I dropped my mater in a cup holder and reached back to pry another from the plastic case.
“I could have told you that. Still I'm surprised you were able to pull together the power to merge with a leyline for even a hundred miles, let alone long enough to jump across international borders or oceans.”
“It’s not easy to do, fortunately I can use Khan to reinforce my mental image, so all I really need to do is focus on shielding and gathering enough energy.” I didn’t comment on the fact that of all the constructs I knew shields were my best, I’d taken a natural talent for shaping them and turned it into an art form. I finally freed a second bottle and held it out to her.
“So tell me, all this time running around the world fighting and saving creatures making sure the world doesn’t go into a panic when it learns that the myths and legends it's been trying to forget are still alive and real, how’s Marisa doing?” She ignored the offered bottle of water as we finally left the back roads and turned onto highway 24. I used the distraction of her merging into traffic to push aside old memories.
“Don't mention her again please. And no, I haven't visited her I can’t appear out of thin air and say hi to a normal person.” I finished off the last of my water and tossed the bottle into an empty trash bag. “It took me a few months to figure out a viable shield to hold my mind and body together during the merge when I leyline walk. Like you said the planet wide wards make accumulating the necessary energy problematic, and no I'm not showing you how you can figure it out on your own. Now, I'm going to try and get some rest. Wake me when we get to Devil's Playground.” I crawled over the seat into the back area and unrolled a sleeping bag.