The voice was blissfire.

Cove released Keekee. He marched a laser line to the highway entrance toward the song in his soul. Everything he wanted or desired, every hope and dream, lingered outside the cavern.

A giantess yelled his name, tugged on his arm, and pounded on his back.

“Professor Coveland Nocht, come to me, Stoneshaper.”

“I am coming,” said Cove. The singer will perfect me and remove my flaws.

“Come,” sang the Master, “hurry; time is fleeting.”

Someone yelled, begging, pleading, shrieking, in his ear. A woman demanded that he stop and not go to the master or worship at a god’s feet.

Cove shrugged and yanked, desperate to free himself from the obstinate woman holding him back. “Let me go, please! God needs me!”

A massive slab of dark muscle folded his arms and stood between Cove and the heavenly song. The man slid right and left, blocking Cove’s efforts to go around him.

“Move,” demanded Cove.

“Coveland,” sang the voice, “Show me you are worthy of my grace. Use your power. Snuff out any who stand between us.”

“Yes, Lord,” Cove said as he reached for the dark man.

“No,” cried a fire-haired woman. She grabbed his wrists, her thumbs drawing on his skin as she pulled him away from the dark man.

Cove yanked his arms, twisting and spinning his hands until he held her hands. He aligned the Azure in his hand and pulled the power from her body.

The fire-haired woman wailed, writhed, and screamed, begging him to stop.

“Sacrifice her to me,” sang the deity.

“I will, Lord.”

The obsidian man bellowed, seized the woman with one arm, and jerked her free.

Cove reached for the retreating man, but he could not move. His eyes fell. The first woman clung to his waist, her arms anchoring him as she howled into his back.

“Destroy her; she is unworthy,” urged God.

Cove turned, spinning, trying to face the object keeping him from his Master. “Release me!”

His right hand grabbed the wrist of the infernal demon and fired a twisted wire bolt.

Ping!

Cove raged and glared at his palm. Blood pulsed and oozed around the twisted remains of stainless steel wire. “What?”

His eyes burned as they shifted from his hand to the woman’s arm. Gleaming metal inlaid with gold, marred only by his blood, stared back at him. Unscarred, it mocked him, protected the woman, and defied his efforts to escape to the singer.

Cove’s eyes shifted to follow the patter of sprinting feet and the voices of three young women with hair of wheat and crimson and clad in brilliant Azure gem-encrusted bralettes and panties. He looked to the cave entrance and loosed a desperate roar as he thought: Why do all these females insist on keeping me from my God?

God’s voice sang, “Stoneshaper, show them my wrath, bring them low, extract their power, and sacrifice their souls!”

He spun, facing the racing teenage girls. White teeth nibbled on shivering lips, yet their eyes fixed on Cove, and their hair streamed like golden banners of war. He extended his left hand as the first reached for him and activated Azure, ready to drink Elystria from this female until she shattered when his gaze was drawn to the others by a series of soft notes, a tune that drew memories of innocence, childhood, and the safety of family.

“No,” said God, “ignore them! Come to me, Coveland, stand at my side, be my Stoneshaper, and I will grant you godhood.”

The second twin and her silk-haired companion had stopped and were holding hands, leaning towards him, knees bent, glaring, gritting teeth, wrinkled brows, Azure underwear flaring, blinding strings of miniature suns, and—

The word, wrapped in love, pierced Cove’s mind and burned away the dross in his ears: “DADDY!”

Cove staggered backward, stumbling, falling, yet the woman bore him, supported him, and drew him to his feet.

The first young woman slammed into Cove and embraced him as she cried, “Daddy! Stop!” Peace poured from her. “Please don’t hurt mommy.”

The words struggled from Cove, “Hurt? Mommy?” He stared, unfocused, from the reddish mop of golden hair under his chin to the black bristle on the tall woman behind him.

The giantess sobbed, her shoulders shaking in time with her breaths, waterfalls cascading from her eyes, and her embrace a vice fixing him to her chest. “Cove! Come back to me!”

“Keeva? Lyra?”

The God’s song faded as more arms enfolded Cove. Lyra sang a childhood primary hymn praising the wisdom of Themis, and spheres of light enveloped his family, Heim's marshal ballad fading with each soft layer. He tried to look, but his world washed into a blur of light as tears filled his eyes.

Kee sniffed, shuddered, and squeezed Cove as she said, “We’re all here; me, Lyra, Bree, Penelope—” Kee giggled through a happy sob as little feet danced on Cove’s back. “Yes, you too, Junior.”

The smile left Penelope’s voice and gained gravitas as she said, “Gisaluna, Freeman, and Seralyn, it is time.”

Freeman said, “It shall be done, Lascivien.”

Cove asked, “What is going on?”

“No time, Daddy,” said Penelope, “We have to get out of here.” A soft, wonder-filled, thankful giggle came from the teenager. “Gods, I have a dad. I’ve never had a daddy.”

Cove’s thoughts swirled: Leaving? I just woke up. “Why?”

Lyra groaned as she said, “Because the Bard of Heim is messing with your brain.”

“The who?”

“I need help,” stammered Lyra. “His song has almost drilled through my filters.”

“Everyone,” said Kee, “put your hand on Daddy’s tummy. Good. No, Lyra, stacking hands doesn’t count—”

“A gestalt,” said Penelope in her mature Lascivien voice, “have you tested this blend?”

“Oh, yes,” said Bree.

“Testing power combinations is all we’ve done for weeks,” said Lyra, her voice straining as several layers of her barrier ripped away like sheets in a hurricane.

“So,” said Penelope, “that’s a no. Let me check the records; what are your classes?”

“I’m a thermomancer,” said Kee, “Cove is a Stoneshaper; you are a Librarian, but we don’t know what to call Lyra and Bree.”

Lascivien, speaking through Penelope, said, “The foundations exist for Lyra to become a Bard and Bree a Psychomancer.”

Keeva said, “You’re not sure?”

“Only a few of their glands are functioning. They are limited until they pass through the Rite of Opening.”

“We do not have time,” Cove said. “Is this dangerous? I will not risk my daughters or Keeva.”

“Daddy,” huffed Bree, “Heim the Destroyer is at our gates; being within hearing range is hazardous!”

“I noticed,” said Cove. He paused, remembering and formulating a quick plan. “I have an idea. A Bard’s power is in their voice, correct?”

“For most, including Heim, yes,” said Lascivien. “There is a subset of Bards who specialize in forms of silent contact, or hybrids of mute and verbal communication—”

“Thank you,” said Cove. “Lyra and Bree, keep shielding us. Penelope and Lascivien protect the baby. Keeva, you and I are going to close the door.”

Lascivien borrowed Penny's mouth and said, "I am a library. Knowledge is power, but how do you expect me to defend unborn children?"

Kee hesitated, halting midway through rearranging everyone’s hands, and asked, “Cove, what door? We looked after Heim’s first visit. We found the remains of storm doors, counterweights, and such, but nothing useful.”

“We will make our own—”

“From what?”

“There is stone everywhere; I will carve, and you will melt it together.”

“Cove, you are an internal mage."

“So why is that a problem?”

Keeva glared at him. "You must touch something to effect it.”

Cove shrugged, and his face all but screamed what am I missing.

Keeva huffed.

Grettaluna said, “Think, Professor. To do any good, ye must sit in Heim’s lap. He’ll invade yer head, tuck you under his arm, and enslave you at his leisure.”

Cove sank. They were right. His shoulders slumped as he sighed and nodded.

“We have a plan,” said Keeva, “and it plays to your strengths.”

“My strengths?”

Kee turned their group away from Heim the Destroyer and towards the ramp leading toward the water and Dóiteáin's remains. Alongside the wreck was a peloton of bicycles, each with a trailer save two. Cove’s PrimalRiders Hadrosaur Elite stood beside its twin, clean, serviced, and decked with professional mazer equipment and supplies.

“Mazer,” Cove said with hesitation, “how is a game going to rescue our family?”

“Daddy,” Bree said, “all games are battle simulations.”

“You are right, Bree, but Mazer is not about warriors cycling into combat. It is based on battlefield messengers during the last interval, the ability of teams of two to six to cross hostile geography, traps, minefields, and escape pursuit. The rope, pistol, and blades are for capturing, not killing, the enemy. No sane person rides to war on a bicycle.”

Slumped shoulders and sighs joined sad faces as Cove finished speaking. “If you’d grown up playing Mazer, your plan would be dubious, but you didn’t. It would take me weeks to teach everyone the basics and months for you to reach a novice level of skill.

He glanced toward a discordant snicker.

“I told them they were untrained, and we were too old,” said Roy as they stopped at the rows of bicycles, “but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

“I don’t understand why,” said Gisaluna. She paused as she strode down the ramp and into the water. “You’re a Riddere officer, a blind sycophant of Heim the Destroyer. You kidnapped my grandchildren—”

“They weren’t your grandchildren when we picked them up,” said Roy, his voice fading as the waters around Gisaluna boiled.

“You and your Green Cloaks chased them across Heim, raided their homes, tried to enslave and reduce them to cattle, and failing that, kill them. Oh, and let’s not forget trying to roast my grandson and serve him as sandwiches to his children.”

“I had no part in what happened inside the ranch.”

“Really? Weren’t you the one leading the Soldiers?”

“I arrived to deliver a message and found the staff running like a kicked hive of cinderweavers! So, I took charge and started sorting out the mess. I did my duty.”

Gisaluna glared at Roy as she said, “That's what I thought. Why is your woman, your pet mage, pregnant? Why is she still breathing? Why haven't you done your job?" Gisaluna held up a finger to stop Roy's reply. "I will tell you, boy. She is expecting and alive because you cherish her more than you love Heim and the law."

Roy scowled as Gisaluna strode across the water, out of the cavern, and over the turbulent sea.

"Welcome to the good guys," said Cove. They debated options and formulated plans like varsity Mazer captains saddled with a freshman team. They could still win but had to train their rookies before engaging the enemy. Intermediate cycling skills, knives, slings, batons, and various Mazer weapons became part of their plans. With every word, Roy became grimmer and more despondent. Finally, Cove said, “What’s wrong?”

"I deserve to die," whispered Roy. He wiped his brow as he stared, his eyes drifting from person to person until he found Hanna. "Two days ago, Heim ordered me to murder my wife. I...." Roy scrubbed tears from his face. "She's alive because your girls asked the raptors to protect her while they..." He glanced at Lyra maintaining her sound barriers, and then his gaze drilled into Cove. "Professor Nocht, Coveland, please kill me."

Cove’s heart staggered, and his soul swamped as his gut filled with ballast. “What? Are you joking?”

“I’m serious.”

“No.”

“I’m a danger to you, your family, Hanna, everyone!”

“No!”

“Why?”

“You will not take the easy way.”

Roy pointed at Lyra as he wailed and cried, “You want to torture me? Each time I see your daughters, girls I condemned to slavery, I remember that they kept me from murdering my best friend. Do you want me to look into Hanna’s eyes and see her terror?”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"I never took you for a coward!"

"I am not a coward! Look at Hanna; she's terrified of me. I can't live with that."

“Yes, she is scared and has every right to be frightened, but look deeper,” Cove said as he gripped Roy's shoulders and spun him, forcing him to look at his wife. "Hanna is still here; she did not leave you. She saw you at your worst and stayed. That is beyond loyalty; it is love. Would you reward her by running away, by abandoning her in her hour of need? Do it alone if you want to take the coward's road.”

"I am not a coward!"

"Then stay! Live. Be the man Hanna loves. You fell. So what? It happens. Pick yourself up, mount your bike, and ride at her side."

A titanic roar drew every gaze. Feardorcha and Lyn, encircled by Long Claw and his flock, blocked the cavern entrance.

Heim's voice cannoned from the tunnel and echoed through the chamber. "I will not lay down this body; without your toys, you cannot defeat me!"

"We are running out of time," whispered Cove as he gestured, waving to gather everyone.

"We're going out that way," said Roy.

Sera asked, “Why not? Keeva said you two were God's gift to Mazer.”

Cove snickered and shared a brief, nostalgic glance with Roy. “Maybe, but that was years ago. I have not competed in Mazer since I graduated from the University of Heim.”

“Same for me,” said Roy.

Hanna hesitated, holding her breath as she rubbed Roy’s plump belly and tickled under his roll. Her eyes paused, flitting between Cove and her husband before saying, “You two should play more often.”

Roy glanced at Hanna, not meeting her eyes, and nodded. “That would be fun, but it doesn’t help us now.”

Uncle Petrov stabbed his finger toward the seaward tunnel. “The Goodwin is a kilometer offshore.”

Dax waved his arms, dismissing the idea as he said, "You want to take children onto the ocean during the darkness and storms of God's week?"

"We have life vests," said Uncle Petrov.

Cove stroked his chin as he eyed the large, open-topped tender. "That won't hold everyone and our gear."

"So, we make two trips," said Aunt Muriel, "or leave your bikes and trailers behind."

"We are not going to sea," said Keeva.

"Mom," cried the twins and Penelope.

Kee stamped her foot. "No. Being nude with family and friends in the sanctuary of the aquatemplum is one thing, but trouncing about naked as a sailor on a boat full of strangers is out of the question. We will take the crags and tunnel through the mountain. Heim won’t fit—"

“Neither will Daddy,” said Lyra as she leaned towards Keekee and tossed her hands.

“How do you know I won’t make it through?”

“Kee and their three daughters glared from under raised eyebrows.

Lyra folded her arms and asked, “Are you serious? Dad, you can do all kinds of cool stuff with your body—”

“I like Uncle Cove’s A Chara Bán faces,” said Essie.

“He shrank his butt when we first met,” Penelope snickered.

Cove and Kee said, “Penny!”

Penelope’s eyes widened over a toothy smile as she said, “Oh! I like that name! Can I keep it?”

Cove nodded.

Lyra smiled as she sighed and said, “Daddy’s ability to change his looks is impressive, but he can’t alter his bones. He’ll never make it.”

“Yes, I can,” Cove said, rubbing his hands together.

Keeva whispered, “Cove? What are you planning?”

“My face and form aren't the only things I can mold,” said Cove as he turned. “Unhook the trailers. Pack the panniers with food, water, clothes, and two tents—”

“Daddy,” said Lyra, “I’m almost empty.”

“Lyra, trade Azure underwear with your sister,” commanded Cove.

The twins curled their noses and shared a disgusted look.

“Oh, for Amelia’s sake,” said Keeva, “Cove, do your power transfer thing! Take energy from Bree, Penny, and me, and recharge Lyra.”

His family drew close. Cove pulled Elystria from Bree, Penny, and Keeva’s Azure clothing and items one by one and charged Lyra’s. As he finished, he said, “Dax, please supervise the boat loading. Roy, you and Hanna load the packs and panniers. Make sure all our water bottles are full.”

Roy huffed and said, “If you can’t squeeze through that passage, there’s no way the bikes will.”

Cove waggled his fingers and eyebrows, saying, “I’m a Stoneshaper. They’ll fit with room to spare, but I need more power.” He turned and motioned to his daughters, “Bree and Penny, bring me the chunks of Dóiteáin’s Takamot crystal, every piece leftover after we built her a new body.”

The girls sprinted away as Cove and Lyra sat on the cold stone floor. His eyes peered towards the cavern entrance. The Great Mountain Raptors barked and cawed, clawing at the ground, ready to attack. Yet the real battle was fought with words, and Cove wished he could hear the debate.

A minute later, Bree, Penny, and Jacob returned, lumbering with short, heavy steps, backs bent, and large chunks of the broken Takamot crystal cradled in their arms. They set the Azure at Cove’s feet and looked at him, their eyes pleading.

Cove glared at the young acolyte before saying, “I need it all.”

“Let's go,” said Jacob, taking Bree and Penny’s hands.

Cove snarled, his eyes fixed on Jacob.

“Calm down, Daddy,” said Lyra with a sigh, “He’s nice and wants to help.” Her eyes followed the priest.

“I know what he wants,” sighed Cove. His eyes drifted to the pile of Azure. He selected the heaviest piece and hefted it to his chest. He drew a little Elystria from the stone, sent it into his Stoneshaper droui glands, and focused his mind.

Lyra said, “He’s better than most guys.”

Cove pictured the rock, saw it as it was, imagined how it needed to become, and encouraged the molecules to shift.

A touch of defensive pride entered her voice as she said, “He’s nicer than the guards at the prison.”

The Azure crystal flowed over Cove’s torso, grew over his shoulders, poured down his back, and wrapped around his waist. He gasped and wiped his brow. “Hand me a piece of leaf Azure.”

“Sure,” said Lyra as she reached for a part of Dóiteáin’s shell. “Oh, wow! When did… How did you…”

The hint of a smile touched Cove’s lips as he said, “I did it with my Stoneshaper skill while you drooled over that young man's bum.”

“Daddy! I wasn’t…”

“You were. Mom says it’s normal for girls to admire men's butts.”

Lyra blushed to her toes.

“See if you can get Essie’s attention. I need to attach these pieces as pauldrons.”

“What’s a pauldron?”

Cove tapped his shoulders and asked, “All those games, and you do not know the basic armor parts?”

“Bree loves the lore and details; I just like to play.”

The Azure molded itself over Cove. “Now for the important part. I need to concentrate for a bit. Please call Essie over while I work.”

Cove narrowed his focus, floating into a trance as he aligned the crystalline Azure structure into the matrix for a luminaegis shell, blending the bits into the pattern. The design was beautiful, if crude. He wanted to cry. Even if he had the time, which he didn’t, he lacked the skill to match the elegant artistry of the original Takamot crystal. Yet he did his best.

Raptor cries and roars, and the noise of battle rose in his ears as his meditative trance receded.

"Holy Raptor pellets...," said Lyra.

"I told you Uncle Cove was the best."

"I'm not special," said Cove, "I am recycling the work of the woman who created Dóiteáin’s Takamot crystal. She was an artist."

"She's dead," said Keeva, "so you're the best in the world."

"I am the only Stoneshaper on the planet."

"So, nobody's better," Bree said as she pointed to the neat stack of blocks and scraps. "We pulled all of the Azure out of Dóiteáin's wreck."

Cove examined the pile, glanced at the cavern entrance, shook his head, and sighed. "I don't have time to make more armor." He eyed the bikes, shock absorbers fully compressed, bulging panniers hanging over the tires, leaving little room for riders, let alone more cargo. He looked at Dax as he said, "We must take the Azure with us."

Dax scanned the bikes and packs and huffed. "No."

"I need the energy in those blocks—”

"Then transfer the Elystria to what you have made."

"But I can make more sets—"

"The bicycles cannot carry more.”

“Shite.”

“Get the swear jar for Uncle Cove,” Essie giggled.

Cove pulled a piece from the pile, drained all but the dregs, leaving only enough to preserve the Azure, and handed it to Lyra as he said, “Put this in the boat.” He took another, emptied it, and gave it to Penny.

Cove pulled the energy from the crystals individually, pouring the power into his cuirass and handing the dim Azure to one of his girls. Five pieces later, Cove’s armor shone, pulsing a deep purple.

Heim's sing-song voice echoed from the distant cavern entrance. “Stoneshaper, your glory shines like Mater on a dark night. What are you doing?”

Lyra gasped; her Azure underwear flared, transferring power into her glands, and she cried, “He’s pushing!”

“A new offering from my fledgling Stoneshaper,” sang Heim. “Leave them. Come to me. Return to your God!”

A pinprick of Heim’s music poked at Cove’s mind. He wavered, warring for control, desperate to restrain his thoughts and retain his freedom.

Lyra shuddered and screamed. Her hands kneaded her forehead. A brilliant blue shone through her fingers as her Azure bra and panties pulsed, transferring the dregs of its Elystria into Lyra. It diminished to a gauzy pale, almost transparent turquoise.

“Daddy, help! He’s getting through!”

“What do you need?”

“She needs power, you lunk,” Kee said as she yanked a large piece of Azure from the pile and thrust it into Lyra’s arms. “Hold that rock. Wrap yourself around it.”

Lyra clung to the Azure like the last plank from a sinking ship. The song vanished. “Thank you, mommy….”

Heim howled, “Bring me the Stoneshaper, or I will rip you apart and drop your cores into the Abominatio volcano!”

Feardorcha’s cackle quieted the cavern. “You would be doing us a favor!”

Keeva handed him an enormous chunk of Azure and said, “Hurry. Fill my armor next, and, if we have time, the girls, starting with Lyra.”

Cove quaked, and sweat poured from his skin as he pulled Elystria in one hand, guided the river of power across his shoulders, and pushed it into Keeva’s body. Every muscle along the path raged, his droui glands pounding in time with his surging pulse, and greenstick fractures spidered through his bones as his Azure grew. Yet he smiled at his children as they swapped depleted chunks of Dóiteáin’s broken Takamot crystal for fresh ones. The pile seemed to evaporate. Cove panted for air. His mouth was dry, his eyes throbbed, and he fought off the need to slump into Keekee’s arms and sleep for an eon.

Three small pieces and Dóiteáin remained when Keeva slid Lyra onto his lap. He hesitated. I’ve got to touch somewhere, but where? I’m her dad, not some pervert feeling up a girl.

Lyra laughed and positioned his hand, first over the clasp of her Azure bra and then the side of her panties.

Cove stuttered, pausing to breathe as he spoke, “Essie, give Bree a hand wrapping Dóiteáin in a blanket and taking her to the boat. Treat Dóiteáin like a newborn.”

Bree returned, kissed his cheek, and said, “I will help Mom repack everything.”

Cove watched her go, marveling at the connection and belonging between himself and the five women who had become his family. He’d been alone at the end of the Sowing Festival. Today, months later, halfway through God’s Week, he had a wife, a sister, and three teenage daughters.

A single tone rammed the air, knocking everyone onto their backs. The Azure lanterns shattered, plunging the cavern into darkness. The pitch changed, rising and screeching. Cove slammed his hands over his head as pain lanced between his ears. He heard a soft pop, then nothing.

Silence.

The ground shook. Fine sand and gravel rained on Cove. Oh Gods, is Heim trying to bring down the cave?