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Maker of Fire
2.41 Before leaving for Sussbesschem

2.41 Before leaving for Sussbesschem

Emily, Healing Shrine, Cold Season, 5th rot., morning of the 4th day

The day after the fireworks display, we returned home. Tom and I shared Asgotl. Aylem flew with her daughter on Asgolt's young cousin, Rialdiaj. It seemed strange that people had trouble telling the two griffins apart. The beaks and the patterns of the ear tuffs are obviously distinct. Tom agreed, but Aylem and Opa didn't see the differences. This left me wondering if Cosm eyes saw different wavelengths or had different focal lengths for seeing details.

I mentioned this to Aylem when we arrived back at the Healing Shrine. She gave me the oddest look as I climbed into my spot on the lounge.

"To the best of my knowledge, there is no difference in what Coyn and Cosm can see, except perhaps for tiny details close-up," Aylem took her seat at Wolkayrs' work table and started to organize her work for the day.

"Huh." It was a mystery to me. Were other people less observant? I never got the chance to think about it.

Tom was standing on the top step leading to the lounge, looking at me with a pout on his face. "Is there no room for me?"

I patted the spot next to me, "More than enough room, Wookums."

"Wouldn't it be more comfortable if I had the corner and you leaned against me?" he asked, looking hopeful.

"My corner," I staked out my territory.

"You always take the corner," his pout got more profound, "and the aisle seat at the theater, the window seat on the plane, the window seat on the train, and the chair with the best view when eating out." Several of the words were in English since there were no words for train, plane, or theater in Fosk.

Aylem looked at me with astonishment from across the room, "Is that true? Are you a seat hog?"

"It's one of her worst character defects," Tom intoned, shaking his head and looking at me with disapproval.

"This is my corner," I didn't budge. "It's been my corner for a year and a half, and I'm not giving it up. Don't make me regret giving you the window side of the bed. That was a sacrifice, and you know it."

Aylem's eyes looked from me to Tom and then back to me. Then she started laughing, "The two of you are funny together. I never know what you're going to come up with next."

"Emily, love, I believe the Queen of Foskos is laughing at us," Tom looked at me with all solemnity.

"Tom, dearest," I studied Aylem with a critical eye, "there is some basis to that observation." I paused and pondered. "Do you think she's hysterical?" I raised an eyebrow at Aylem. Aylem saw the eyebrow and started laughing harder.

Everyone in the room was watching by now. The study wasn't as full as it could be. Lisaykos had just sat down to start her work for the day. High Priestess Senlyosart was on the other lounge working on the administrative paperwork for her own shrine organization. The Holy Mieth was grading exams by healer trainees on a work table by the west wall, surrounded by neat piles of wax tablets. Twessera, currently on "Emily duty," made tea for everyone.

"Honey, I do believe she is indeed hysterical," Tom pronounced like a judge delivering a death sentence.

"This resembles convulsions. Don't you agree?" I went full professorial. "I think sedation and maybe addressing the potential for some kind of apoplexy is appropriate."

Aylem started turning red in the face and wheezing from laughing so hard. Lisaykos was making the best fish face at the hysterical Queen. I was getting the impression that Aylem didn't laugh much, so laughing like this was probably good for her.

"What do you think the best course of action is?" Tom asked as the face of concern personified.

"Phenobarbital," I nodded once. "So what would the dose be for someone as large as the Queen? If I remember correctly, the maximum oral dose was around 100 milligrams for someone weighing 100 kilos. That's a ratio of one to one million. So for someone like the Blessed Aylem, we would need to know her weight to calculate the right dose."

Tom stroked his beard as he carefully appraised Aylem, "I think around three thousand stone should be close."

"Thirty-two hundred fifty-six, as of last rotation," Lisaykos contributed in a helpful voice. "What's phenobarbital?"

"Sedative, systemic suppressant, anti-convulsant, and anti-depressant," I told the now amused Lisaykos. "So, the approximate dose for the Queen should be around three and a third grains."

"Wonderful, love," Tom beamed at me as he sat beside me. "Now all we need is to fetch some phenobarbital."

"Hmm," I frowned. "That could be a problem. I'm sure there's none in the shrine, and I have no idea how one makes phenobarbital."

Aylem gasped a hurried breath and looked up, "You don't know how to make phenobarbital?"

"No, not a clue," I replied.

"There's something the genius Emily doesn't know how to do?" Aylem squeaked just before she dissolved back into more hysterics."

"There are many things I do not know, Aylem," I grumped, "and I am not a genius. I'm just better at making things than most people."

"Pffffft!" Tom attempted to swallow his laugh.

"Well, it's true," I elbowed him solidly in the side.

Now both Tom and Aylem were laughing. The rest of the people in the room traded smiles of amusement except Lisaykos, who merely shook her head. I shrugged and made a pleading face at Lisaykos, looking for some understanding and sympathy.

Lisaykos started laughing, her hands over her face to hide her sinister expression.

Disgusted with Aylem, Tom, and Lisaykos, I picked up my wax tablet and returned to the problem I had been contemplating for the last several days. I really wanted to go back to the Building Shrine in Omexkel so I could set up some experiments. As it was, I had to rely on what was in my head, plus the results of the one trial I did have time to do in Omexkel.

After a few moments, the hysterical ones managed to recover their composure. Tom looked at what I was working on, which was trying to balance some equations for the reaction of nitric acid and glucose with sulfuric acid as a catalyst.

"Alright, Em," he pointed at the tablet, "that's nitric and sulfuric acid, but what's that?"

"Glucose," I replied, deep in thought.

"Sugar?" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Glucose is one of the sugar compounds," I tried not to growl at having my thoughts interrupted. "Now shush, I'm thinking."

"What are you trying to make?" Tom was curious.

I was now contemplating divorce, except I was sure we weren't married on Erdos.

"Nitrocellulose. Now shut up and let me think."

"So, you want to make synthetic fabric or camera film? Or maybe synthetic lacquer?"

I looked at my soon-to-be former lover with a growing mood of grumpiness, "gun cotton." I immediately regretted snapping at him. "For safety film and synthetic fabric, you're probably thinking of cellulose acetate, which is much easier and safer to make than nitrocellulose. Both are within the reach of the current technology mix on Erdos."

"You can make synthetic fabric, Emily?" a gobsmacked Aylem asked from across the room.

I frowned. It wasn't that big a deal. "With the help of the folks down at the Building Shrine, I could probably make a working spinning jig to make synthetic cellulose diacetate in two to three rotations. It's not like it's hard. The chemistry is simple. It's making the nozzle contraption to spray and spin the threads that would be difficult."

"Wait, wait, wait," Lisaykos held up a hand. "You're saying you know how to make thread that can be woven that doesn't come from a plant or from animal hair?"

"You purify vinegar and then soak it in plant debris, like the waste from making sugar or lumber. That's the simplified version of the process, but the solution produced can make thin, flexible films or thread," I explained.

Aylem held her head as she shook it. "Emily, dear heart, I believe you just did it again."

"Crap," I had come to hate that phrase.

- - -

Emily, Healing Shrine, Cold Season, 5th rot., before dinner on the 4th day

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Lisaykos asked me to take care of arrangements for Danasma of Urssi at dinner. I decided to head over to her room at half past the sixth bell to say hello and warn her about dinner protocol at the High Priestess' table. Never having met a Sea Coyn, Tom came with me.

Apparently, Danasma was barely alive when the Foskan rescuers reached Uldlip after the Impotuan attack. Two-thirds of the Sea Coyn traders died. Half of those who died had been tortured in some way.

When Aylem told me what the Impotuan soldiers did to Danasma, I had to fight to avoid vomiting. After they used her as a football, should have killed her, they tied her to a cooking grill and then set her feet on fire. Then they left her there, presumably to be eaten by wild animals. She wasn't the only one to be tortured in this way, but she was the only one tied to a grill to survive. Aylem was able to reconstruct her right leg because Aylem's magic can regress any burn. She couldn't restore the lower left leg because there was no leg left to restore. It had been burnt off. I can only hope Danasma wasn't conscious when it happened.

The atrocities of the Impotuans reminded me of the accounts I read in a previous life of the Rape of Nanking. Gods help any Impotuans I meet that may have been involved with the Uldlip attack because I certainly would go out of my way to remove all of them from this life and leave them to the tender mercies of Gertzpul in the deepest, coldest pit of Uedroy. The revelation of Gertzpul to Drod states that those who inflict great wrongs upon others will have those wrongs visited on them after they die. Oh, I hope that's true!

After I knocked and Kibbilpos opened the door, we found Danasma sitting up in bed in a housecoat. She looked sleepy, but Lisaykos warned me that Danasma had slept most of the afternoon. Kibbilpos had several different gowns and kirtle pairs laid out on the bed for Danasma's perusal.

As soon as Kibbilpos had finished her obeisance to Tom and me, Danasma fixed me with a level glare and said, "So, Emily, Miner of the North, you're nobody's prophet, eh? "How many other untruths did you tell me last Growing Season?"

Kibbilpos blanched at Danasma's straightforward way of speaking. I found it refreshing after a year and of half of Foskan honorifics and groveling.

"Kibbilpos, can we get a hand up so we can sit on the bed and talk?" I asked.

"Of course, Great One." After she lifted Tom and me onto the bed, she asked if she should leave. I told her to stay, so she pulled up a chair.

"I'm happy to find you sounding like the Danasma I remember," I began. "Sometimes, when people live through what you endured, they get broken. So, when we met in Uldlip, which seems like years ago to me right now, I didn't know I was cursed by the gods. Three rotations later, the gods finally broke it to me that I was their pick as a prophet. I cannot express how much I wish they hadn't. I would give this gig away in a breath if I could, but my divine employers will not let me quit."

"You don't want to be a prophet?" Danasma looked like she didn't believe me. "You can have the whole world at your feet!"

"Emily!" Kibbilpos was shocked. "I thought you had gotten over this."

"I will never be over this, Kib," I grimaced. "Just because I'm doing what the gods want doesn't mean I like it."

"I don't understand," Danasma shook her head.

"Let me give you an example of why I hate this," I sighed. "Galt commanded that I destroy the city of Salicet. Here's the nasty bit: the gods put it in a prophecy before I was born that I would destroy Salicet. When Galt told me to find a way to raze the place, he originally intended that anyone still living in the city would be wiped out at the same time. How's that? Before I ever took a breath in this life, I was doomed for the rest of time to be known as the Prophet Emily, Destroyer of Cities. Isn't that just a bowl of sweet cream?" The sarcasm was so thick I almost choked from its miasma.

"But I heard that everyone escaped," Danasma's eyes were wide.

"Only because I could bargain with Erhonsay and Galt to save their lives, but I had to pay the price for that mercy. Galt said I could save the people of Salicet if I could evacuate it and destroy it in less than a rotation from when he spoke to me. That's not an easy task for an undersized Coyn with no magic."

"The gods didn't help you?" Danasma graduated from wide eyes to fish face. Tom put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze of reassurance.

"Galt wanted me to find my own way to level the largest city on Erdos. He likes giving me puzzles and challenges. In a way, I'm entertainment for the gods," I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"How?" Danasma asked in a very small voice.

"What was under Salicet was a lot of salt. When you separate salt into sodium metal and chlorine gas and then add water, it will explode. I convinced one of the two mages on Erdos, who had the power to split that much salt, to do just that. It was the quickest way that would leave the area unpoisoned."

"That implies there was a way that would poison the ground, Em," Tom pointed out.

"Oh, Blarg!" I hit my forehead with my palm, "I'm an idiot with no manners. Danasma of House Urssi, this is the Revered Tom, Blessed of Galt. Tom, this is Danasma, Camp Master of Uldlip. Her mother is on the Inkalem Council of Five, their ruling body."

"I had guessed that," Danasma smiled with sympathy. "I passed Tom in the hallway of the chapel shrine one or two rotations ago. His feet and hands were a mess. Then the gossip was all over that he had been blessed by Galt. The other Coyn at the chapel shrine did their best to celebrate the recognition of another Coyn by the gods. I found the exuberance enlightening. The healers were rather dismayed by their patients who refused to stay quiet and peaceful at that time."

"Hi, I'm Tom," he waved at Danasma. "So, Em, there was a quick way that would poison the ground?"

"Use your head, numbskull," I shook mine. "I could have asked for the creation of a critical mass of enriched uranium. Aylem has creation magic. It would have been easier if I had asked for that instead. The salt explosion exhausted the inexhaustible Aylem Nonkin. We had problems getting home because she was too tired to cast the charm of circular light."

"Damn. Nukes." Tom scowled. "War sucks."

"So, anyway. That's just one example of the shitty things you have to do as a prophet," I summed up. "Let's talk about dinner."

"Dinner?" Danasma raised an eyebrow.

"First off, the table is huge," I began. "The shrine has made comfortable chairs for Coyn, so we can eat at the table sized for monsters. The one problem is that a Cosm will need to lift you in and out of the chair. It's humbling. Second, no matter how often I try to tell these well-meaning silverhairs, the portions will be too big, so don't feel obliged to finish all the food. It's impossible.

"Next, Lisaykos will want to alternate Coyn and Cosm at the table. If that's uncomfortable for you, just say something now, and I'll put you between me and Tom."

"No, I'm good," Danasma replied. "I already know I'll be seated between Kibbilpos and Arma. I think that's to protect me from Arma's mother."

"Ah," that was interesting news. "Well, the Holy Mieth is a stickler for proper address, especially if I'm present. Lisaykos always seats her as far as possible from me because the god marks in my aura affect her worse than most silverhairs. Mieth is what they call an aura sensitive."

"Arma told me about your god marks," Danasma related. "It's weird that only Cosm can feel them."

"Chem can, too," I replied. "So can Ud, the spider monster."

"Huh," Danasma frowned, thinking,

"For Mieth, the god marks leave her wanting to revere me so strongly that she can't tolerate what she considers disrespect towards me. In terms of speech, that means slipping up on proper address will earn a rebuke from Mieth. She's even chewed out Lisaykos, who is famous for her polished manners and perfect use of honorifics."

"Doesn't Princess Lisaykos outrank High Priestess Mieth?"

"Yes, but that didn't stop Mieth. The high priestesses speak their minds to one another, regardless of rank. They are a scary bunch of old birds. So, don't forget, use Great One for me, the Queen and Lisaykos, Holy One for all the other high priestesses, Revered One for Tom here, and Honored One for Princess Opo'aba, who is eating with us tonight."

"That's the Queen's daughter, yes?"

"Yep, she's a good kid. She's a trainee at the Shrine of Sassoo."

"So, do you know what's for dinner?" Danasma asked.

"Spitted mutton with mint jelly; roasted onions, garlic and mushrooms, and ice cream," Tom interjected. "You're going to love ice cream. The High Priestess' kitchens are famous for the food they serve. I have a theory that the Holy Senlyosart is taking her time moving her shrine's personnel back to Black Falls so she can dine as long as possible at Lisaykos' table. The food here is excellent."

"That's true," I added. "Once the kitchen figured out how to spice food for Coyn rather than Cosm, I haven't had a bad meal since."

"That sounds reassuring," Danasma admitted. "I was worried there would be gypsum or lime in the dishes here."

"No, all that stuff is on the side because there is Coyn dining at the table along with Cosm. Lisaykos is an incredibly thoughtful host. I've never had to worry about gypsum or ground lime in my food."

"How do they tolerate that stuff," Danasma shook her head. "It tastes awful."

"Actually," Kibbilpos interjected, "I find that it tastes really good. Cosm need a lot of lime or gypsum in our diet, or our bones go soft. It's essential. I think our tongues find it tasty, so we will eat enough."

"Uhg," Danasma made a face. "Better you than me, Priestess."

Kibbilpos laughed and rolled her eyes. "Well, enough chatting."

"No," I interrupted. "One last thing. Danasma, you're still on the mend from your injuries. If you become too tired at dinner and need to rest, just say something. No one will think it impolite. This is the Healing Shrine, after all. Lisaykos will value your health over your presence at dinner. Got that?"

"Yes, I understand," she nodded.

"Now, Great Bug," Kibbilpos gave me a chiding look that she picked up from Thuorfosi, "enough chatting. It's almost the seventh bell, and I need to get this one dressed. So the two of you," she pointed at me and Tom, "need to scoot. So, scoot already."

- - -

Lisaykos, Healing Shrine, Cold Season, 5th rot., 10th day

Imstay sent a royal courier to Tuleen to inform the Sea Coyn of Inkalem that the Queen and Usruldes would bring Danasma home to Gangkego. Normally, this action would be a violation of the treaty, but Foskos now considered the treaty to be dead, made unnecessary by the looming emancipation of the Foskan Coyn.

Regardless, Aylem and Usruldes planned to disembark our Coyn and Chem travelers at the end of a pier in Gangkego and then leave immediately after trading polite greetings. Lodgings scaled for Cosm were unavailable in Inkalem, which had kept Cosm out for centuries. Besides, Vassu was firm that this trip was for Chem and Coyn only.

For all that Emily wanted to travel and see the world, she wasn't looking forward to going to Sussbesschem and Mattamesscontess. The purpose of the trip was for the Chem to wage war for the first time in the history of the world. Emily hated that. She hated that she would be the agent to teach the peaceful Chem, who didn't even fight among themselves, the arts of war. The poor girl really was soft-hearted.

I didn't want Danasma of Urssi to leave. I would have kept her in Aybhas until the beginning of the new year until she had some of her strength back. Though she could now walk with one of Emily's walkers, she struggled with crutches and grew tired too quickly. I wrote her mother a letter with recommendations for Danasma's recuperation when she returned home. The worst thing Danasma could do was neglect working to regain her strength. I hoped that her mother would help to see that Danasma kept working at getting better.

I sent Danasma on her way with one of Emily's wheelchairs, the new design that folded. It was small and light enough that Cadress could take it and not even feel the weight.

I was confident that when Danasma left, she had a much better outlook on Foskos than when she arrived. Given that the treaty was now a thing of the past, this was a good thing. We would need friends in Inkalem when we came to negotiate a new one, which I prayed would allow healer chapel shrines inside the land of the Sea Coyn for the first time.

I was also sad to see our six travelers leave. I knew I would not see Emily until sometime after Growing Season next year. My quarters were already too quiet for my taste.

Lyappis was right. I really did need to get out more.