Eli POV
Waking up, I took a deep breath of the salty air as my mind processed the typical sensations. Light from the mana lamp above playing across the wall on my right, something warm and hard beneath me, and the lethargy that accompanied coming into the land of the living. While I was processing the fact I forgot to remove my shirt and pants from yesterday’s long slog of work, there was a push against my shoulder.
“HMM? Too soon, Eli,” Gula moaned. Looking beneath me, I saw my green wife with her bowl cut of black hair splayed across the white pillows. The vertical cut along her left eye and the scar across her nose scrunched as she reluctantly woke up. It was at that point that I knew where I was and why.
My Orc wife had demanded that I use her as my personal pillow ever since her kin had arrived. While I had been very reluctant to do that, I was a good head taller than her and a fair bit heavier, she had persisted. I quickly came to admire the sturdiness of Garren’s handiwork, despite my previous objections. Getting off her with a few threads of her white nightgown still sticking to me, her green hands shot up and groped for my neck before pulling me back down. Tilting her head up, she exposed her neck to me as she stuck her sharp chin out.
Those golden eyes finally opened and looked up to me with a mix of impatience and embarrassment as I surveyed the small bruises of my previous work until I found an open spot. Raising an eyebrow with a smirk that I couldn’t keep down, I went to work sucking on the upper skin of her right collar bone. At the same time, I concentrated on my frontal cortex and started a spirit connection with her.
‘How often do they think we play? I’d think they’d understand if our loins rested for one night.’
She shook her head slightly even as her breathing quickened from our routine nibbling.
‘If I come out of this room without your scent on me or some new love brand, they’d give me so much grief over it. It’s not unpleasant for you, is it?’
‘Never,’ I quickly corrected in a firm tone, ‘I was worried about hurting you at first, but I must say Orcs being so well built has had more utility than I initially thought.’
She snorted but said nothing as I continued filling the soundscape with wet sucking.
‘Still, you are my wife. If they are speaking ill of you, that will need to be addressed.’
Gula shook her head as I finished bruising her lower neck with my lips.
‘I’m just being surly more than anything.’ She said as I lifted myself to meet her eyes. ‘They’re not doing it intentionally; it’s just showing in their faces. All the older women purse their lips before turning away and when I talk to the ones near my age, I can see a little disappointment in their eyes.’
Our special morning ritual now finished, we moved to get a shower. Salamede and Gula took turns getting up early to help make the morning meals, and today it was the Orc's turn in the shower with me. After a few minutes of rubbing, with both soap and hands, we were ready to meet the day. I had to take a minute to kiss and smother her to make sure she still reeked of me, but we were out the door in fresh, matching white shirts and brown pants in what still felt like the early morning.
Coming out of our room and down the hallway, the next morning ritual began. Even before I finished opening the door to the main meeting room, I could see the small Orcs waiting by the door. Wearing proper dresses instead of sacks, their red or gold eyes had the same excitement I had seen in them on their first day. As I opened the door all the way, I found the usual entourage of their older sisters on the right.
Somewhere in the range of sixteen and early twenties, the more mature Orcs were all staring sullenly at their younger sisters. One with long brown hair came up to her younger sister who was rubbing her own bun of hair.
“Shena,” The older sister said patiently with a strained smile above her stubby chin. “We still have to get a lot of clothes made and repaired. Go to mother and help her with the needlework while we see to the quad mage.”
Clearly not getting the subtext, the child scrunched her eyebrows together and puckered her lips in concentration.
“Why would I help mother with fixing dresses? Don’t you need the help?” She asked as she pointed toward her sister’s grey dress, specifically the part covering her chest.
The fabric had been hacked with a knife in a crude manner that was hidden with some skillful stitching, though the portion exposing her breasts was still left unattended. It was an unfortunate accident that had befallen the rest of the older Orcs, most of whom got some dark green in their cheeks. In the first few days, there had been a lot of mistakes by the Orcs. Their necklines getting pulled down long enough to expose their nipples, a stray wind lifting the hem of their dresses to expose their thighs or what lay between, and absent-mindedly rubbing their bodies against me were the typical mishaps found around the base.
I had seen more green this past week than anytime I had spent flying through the forest.
Fortunately, the younger ones were mostly concerned about playing with water or wanted me to shower them with some spell of harmless magic. A few had asked the Frojan or Salamede for some playthings and were no doubt playing with bubble crafts around the housing area under the supervision of one or more frogmen. In spite of that distraction, the little Orcs sensed that I was the center of attention and the bolder among them insisted on being where the action was.
A light chuckle from Gula on my left interrupted the sibling feud.
“It’s not just the dresses that need work around here,” She chided as she moved to the right while I walked to the kitchen. “We’ve got a lot of chores to get done today. I want each of you plying growing crafts on the-“
The shuffle of small feet blotted out her voice for a second as my entourage of co-conspirators accompanied me towards my breakfast. Opening the iron door, I let the little ones out first and turned towards my wife. Sure enough, her white shirt was pulled down to expose her collar bone. She had spent almost every morning talking with the women on what the day’s work would be and it was obvious that they were inspecting her for new love bites as much as they were receiving instruction.
When the last little one came through, I followed them with a shut of the door behind me. Going into the main hallway with the golden glow of the mana lamps beaming on every bit of grey stone along the walls and floor, my group took a left into the double iron doors. A small green girl rushed forward and pulled open one of them with a puff of her cheeks. Her blonde pigtails swinging from the effort, she proudly held the door open for us. I went through last and did an exaggerated bow to her. A small chorus of giggles to the right drew my eyes as I took the door from the girl, who promptly abandoned her post to join her friends.
Four Orc mothers were smiling at me with mirth and some interest in their red or gold eyes. Doing small nods as they passed by, a few looked me up and down appreciatively before moving to get the morning meal in with the children. It was all a part of the delicate dance we had established where I would let the children hang around my more mundane work in the first half of the day while I worked on the radio in the afternoon by myself. The mid-twenties and older Orcs had been rather restrained in their push for my bed. Partly because they were all married, their own husbands might become mages, and partly because I had shown affection towards the children, and they were reluctant to upset their young one’s by stealing me away from them. That left the green women around Gula’s age struggling to maneuver around their younger sisters without arousing the wrath of their mother’s.
I followed the women down the left side of the rows of tables towards the kitchens buffet of various food stuffs, behind which was an open window showing the still busy kitchen. The mothers started directing the little ones while I picked up my own cutlery and plate from the stack at the left side of the buffet. Picking up a steaming biscuit and baked potatoes, I maneuvered around the children trying to get their pudgy little fingers around the large spoons and forks used to put the various treats on their plates. They all moved quickly as the next group came in, looking equally hungry and eager. Covered in rags, the thirty or so skinny Kelton’s arrived from the icy wastes late yesterday on the dual airships. Despite having a decent meal the night before, they still seemed as ravenous as they had been when the Intrepid first picked them up.
Most plied their plates with stacks of hot cakes, potatoes, and gravy simply because moving a few feet to the rest of the dishes was too long for their appetites to wait. With my meal already gathered, I moved towards the back end of the middle table, a section that had been reserved for me and my immediate family. I sat down in the chair of plain brown wood at the end of the table and looked at the goings on. Despite their hunger, the Kelton’s maintained manners and worked around the Orcs. They had been shocked when they saw them among human mages, but the newest additions to our now not so little family quickly adapted. If for no other reason than they would do nothing that threatened their ability to stay in this little paradise.
Most of the newcomers, besides the typical stories of hardship being exiles, told of shortages straining already thin supplies of bread and wheat. It was a hard tale that had stressed out Salamede to no end. Speaking of, my Kelton wife was coming out of the kitchen with a blue dress. A smear of flour on her left leg was particularly eye catching as it told of a rushed frenzy to make the breakfast spread.
She made her way to sit on my left and gave me a deep kiss before sitting down with a rub of the grey fur along her neck. Her tall ivory horns moved with her head as she ate in silence for a moment before she spoke in a spirit connection.
‘Have you made a decision?’ She asked with bit of hope coming through the exhaustion.
‘I don’t know if we can get away with you dropping food out of nowhere. What I’m thinking we do is have a large amount of driftwood get pushed into the markets with big chests of food. They’ll get what they need and will put it down to smugglers meeting a poor fate.’
She gave a sigh of relief before rubbing her goat head against my shoulder.
‘Thanks, Eli.’
A bloom of warmth in my chest was all the reward I needed, though the change in our situation probably demanded the action anyway. Which was when Gula quickly joined the morning rush. Once she retrieved a bowl of soup and mug of water, she sat down on my right with a small smile as she joined our mutual spirit connection.
‘He said yes?’ She asked.
‘Yep.’ Salamede responded with a big smile.
I took a moment enjoying my family’s company and our food before getting on to business.
‘Part of the reason I accepted is because it looks like we’ll need the Kelton’s more than I initially thought we would. To that point, have your talks this past week have changed anything?’ I asked with a pointed turn to Gula.
She pursed her lips, thinking it over for a moment before giving her verdict.
‘It’s a split. The Orcs in the church seem to have put their future in the hands of that Adia saint and her religion. Overall, I’d say they are our best bet since having magical children makes little difference to them. The others are more determined to slug it out with humanity and think the Bastard’s vision for us is the only way forward. Why they would ever want to…’
Gula stumbled for the words in the same manner she usually did whenever this subject came up. That the Orcs here didn’t have the seething hatred of her species sire was an interesting psychological turn, but I could only be there for her and help her work through this confusing time for her. My Orc wife closed her eyes before opening them and resuming her report.
‘Of course, there’s a whole range of opinions between these two groups among a lot of the women.
Fortunately, our proposal to feed the men magical vegetables has pacified the latter faction with even Ugak becoming downright friendly. But that doesn’t mean they’ll live and breathe the cause. For our purposes, I’d say there are only five or seven I’d trust not to run screaming to the local Orcs about you.’
I nodded, but Salamede’s eyebrows scrunched together. She rubbed her smooth cheekbones before she spoke up in a rather offended voice.
‘All of this and so few have any gratitude. How many miracles does Eli need to pull out of the air before they see sense?’
Gula bit her lip before sighing, her eyes looking tired as she looked into the Kelton’s white orbs.
‘I think spending all of your time with an Orc carrying a traitor’s blood has obscured your view of the situation. Every minute they spend not forcing Eli’s gift into them is an unfathomable betrayal of everything our kind has fought and died for since we were first released onto the world. I’m not going to pretend to know what obligations a Kelton has but getting with a male mage is what every Orc mother talks to their daughters about. It’s what drives our people, and it is the explicit purpose of our entire species. I understand that it’s frustrating that they haven’t dropped all of that at a moment’s notice, but the fact they’ve not forced their way into our room shows they are trying their best.’
The Kelton woman’s snout flared while I sat back and continued eating in silence, content to let them work through this issue until the time was right.
‘What’s frustrating is starving to death, sister.’ Salamede refuted in a tired voice. ‘The new arrivals from the wastes need time to adjust and learn how to work. If we can’t reliably send out the Orcs, we’re going to have a glut of workers for the ships and weapons but not enough hands to use them.’
I sat a bit straighter, drawing both their eyes to me as the noise of the dining hall picked up with more arrivals.
‘We can’t reliably send the Orcs to human settlements,’ I announced to both of them, ‘but I don’t think they’ll make a run for it out on the wastes. Have them supplement a crew of Frojan and Kelton’s for the extraction missions. Also, every operation typically has few people on the actual front lines. Most of our labor force is going to be focused on making, maintaining, and deploying ships, equipment, and basic niceties of life.
All that said, there’s a bigger problem. Having the base be the only place for the humans and Orcs to stay will prevent us from properly establishing contact with the rest of them in the years to come. In the far future when we wanted to give out information that an Ultimate mage was willing to work with the Waveborn, who among those outside of our home would we turn to?’
Gula nodded with a shift of her black hair as she took a bite out of a biscuit.
‘The Orcs are the ones who mostly deal with any sensitive information and the ones we could talk to are all at Baker’s port. They aren’t really told much beyond what they need for that precise moment of time. A long chain of messengers maintains communication with the capital Stand in the Bloody Plains, a long swathe of mana-less land between the Rodring Kingdom and the group with some glue spitting grass and the well of holy water. How they talk with the Cradle, or Baluds’s Folly as the humans know it, is beyond them.’
I spent a minute, eating in silence as I fussed over the situation in my head. When no alternatives to the needed course came to me, I coughed to draw my wives’ attention.
‘I had hoped to make the Orcs and their human husbands our main force, but if that foundation isn’t as solid as we hoped we’ll have to put more focus on the local Kelton’s.’
Gula bit her lower lip. Even if she didn’t say anything, the worry playing across her face was plain to see. Salamede, despite her concern these past few days, didn’t seem to be relieved at the news.
‘Those on the wastes are exiles from clans. A few are freshly expunged and die quickly, some linger for weeks or months as Kantor’s group had, and others have been there for generations. To our purposes, they have no loyalty for the clans that kicked them out but there aren’t that many of them. Which is a shame because I don’t think we want to start taking people directly from the clans who might still have some allegiance to their tribe. There are a lot of grudges in these northern lands. Feuds and personal slights going back hundreds of years. Disputes that an airship raining down molten stone would resolve in short order.’
Rubbing the mug next to my plate, I let loose a long sigh but said nothing. Pondering on what to do, it was Gula who put forth an idea.
‘We can’t bring the Orcs in directly, or at least let them know about us. But what if we filtered them before bringing them here?’
‘A business venture acting as a front?’ I asked with a raised eyebrow.
‘Yeah,’ Gula nodded as she elaborated futher. ‘I’ll need to talk with Beaton to see what kind we act as, but I’m sure we could set up a charity or shipping venture that would let us cycle through a bunch of workers.’
It was an idea worth exploring, since I would need several plastics, rubbers, and ores I couldn’t get from one or two mines and farms. A risky idea, but a possibility all the same.
‘Whatever we’re doing, it’s not happening until I get the radios working.’ I declared.
They both nodded at that, going back to finishing their meals. After a minute, I noticed the regular Kelton’s coming in. Among the more well fed and relaxed goat-people, a stark contrast to the new arrivals, I saw the two brothers among the crowd. With the arrival of the Waveborn, the two would abscond to the Kelton section of the living area at night and keep among them during the early morning.
Despite the more relentless Orcs who insisted on showing themselves off to me, we male mages had gotten through these past few days relatively unmolested. In fact, only twice has the brother’s room been crowded with green women trying to score a night’s play. And whatever concerns we three had, the first few days had been a lot harder on the regular men than us.
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Fears of being cuckolded were plain to see, and occasionally hear when they thought I was far enough away. Thankfully, the ability to sire mage children Garren gave the Orcs didn’t come with a physical compulsion and the women seemed quite approving Gula’s idea to feed the men magical vegetables. The wives didn’t toss the fathers of their children overboard for the promise of magical seed and an uneasy normality set in. Not totally based on scientific wonder, as I had hoped, but the way their eyes lit up from looking at the forges or seeing the ships lift off told of an ember burning brighter with each lesson and new trinket.
As the breakfast went on, Orc children started gathering around my chair as they finished their meals. Taking a swig of my water, I suddenly felt the pressure of small hands and feet on my thighs. The small girls began taking up their usual spots on me and the chairs arm rests.
“Hey, Usax.” I said to the small, brown-haired girl on my right leg. “So how did the shower go?”
The skinny thing shook her head with such vigor that her hair moved like a wave along her sides.
“You was right. The one ball-thing on the right made it warmer.”
From there, the rest began informing me of their various adventures, questions, and accidents around the base. Not near the forge, of course, but there was still a lot of places they could scamper about. I had the time to indulge them today, as I had decided to put some stone crafting tools into the hands of the regular workers to finish out the newest addition to the farms.
The looks of love and need my wives gave me after playing with the children also played a part in my indulgence.
A few minutes spent talking passed before the day’s work called to me.
Getting up with my regular entourage, the small mass of girls followed me out of the room. Going out of the double iron doors with a wave to those left behind, I walked across the main hallway to the living quarters directly ahead. Coming through the iron entrance, the wide expanse of nine floors with railing opened up. There was some commotion here and there, particularly around the large baskets holding the used near the edges of the first floor that held all the showers and bathrooms.
On the right was the second newest addition to our abode, with another set of double doors leading to the living area for the Waveborn. But that wasn’t my destination for the day. Going up the right set of stairs on the sides of the levels, my feet slapped against the floor boards along with a small stampede of softer pats as my little caravan moved up to the door at the end of the middle floor.
Moving along and out of the way of a few stragglers, I came up to the iron door and opened it. The room was a large one, about as wide as the first room though a bit shorter. While I was trying to take on a bit more hands-off approach to expansion, that didn’t mean I was going to throw the workers into the deep end at the start. Using small wooden stakes and pads carrying earth enchantments, I had the sailors working on chipping away at the walls and squaring the corners to make a new room.
Some things weren’t exact, of course. A few rough edges, the walls on the right being a bit further than needed, as well as a full head shorter than its counterpart. Still, it was a lot of time saved on my end. Mentally noting to do more to provide proper measurements, I got to work buffing out the issues. A task worked towards by me and the little ones, who were carrying out the debris one piece at a time and stopped to gawk at the occasional shower of sparks and bubbles.
With the rough outline of the room already finished, I was far ahead of where I would be if I had done it myself like I had the living area. While it had its sister rooms dimensions, the plan was for it to be only half focused on regular crops. Once the metal skin was finished, half of the room would have the long stacks of garden troughs, while the other half would hold specialized boxes designed to grow magically enhanced vegetables. They would take a lot more mana as their plant growing enchantments would be more powerful and concentrated, but most of that would be done at night under the eyes of the night crew from the Waveborn.
“Eli!” Salamede’s voice called out from somewhere near the door. I was on the far side cutting the last piece of stone away from the wall when I turned to her. She still had her blue dress on, though the hands on her hips told of a mood fouler than before. “Is this the quality time you’ve been spending with the kids?”
Looking around, the small squads of small girls moving bits of chipped stone did resemble a work gang, but their smiles told of labor joyfully carried out. Something that seemed lost on Salamede as she moved to the left to let a small group of girls clutching fist-sized stones move past.
“It’s character-building quality time they’ll tell their grandkids about.” I proclaimed with a raised chin. She didn’t seem convinced as she gave me a tilted head and pursed lip. “Besides, you think I work them any less in the workshop?”
That got a suppressed smile from my beloved as she did a head roll with that dramatic flair only a woman could give.
“Lunch is ready.” The Kelton woman declared. Her message delivered, she turned around and left, though not before taking a particularly large chunk of stone out of a small child’s hands.
I followed her along with my troop of laborers.
Lunch was the typical affair of fish this and fish that interspersed with some vegetable or bread. The chefs were doing their best to make variety out of the same dozen ingredients, but the soul demanded some variety and I was seriously tempted to go on a hunting expedition. Sadly, the cold logic of the situation demanded I work on the radios, which is what I did after my meal and a wave goodbye to my child workers. All of whom insisted on forming a line by the door and getting a personal farewell hug from the great mage.
Much to the sullen stares of their older siblings sitting at the tables.
The next few hours were spent in my workshop working around two boxes of wood with foot-long poles of copper wires sticking out of the top. I was standing against the wall with the magnet-making table, its two squares of steel and ever-present copper sphere on my left. Opposite of me, sitting atop the other worktable, was the other handheld radio. Along its edges were shifting masses of black, shifting shapes. The oval head of Cell was behind it, out of my vision as I instructed him in carrying out the small adjustments.
Each had a smaller version of the copper spheres in them, which freed me from the constraints of having batteries. Using my considerable experience, I was able to guide Cell in making the crude circuitry with his black mass of shapes which were able to guide the pieces into place with a precision my unenhanced human eyes couldn’t hope to compete with. My typical style of testing seemed needless for this invention as aside from the power source, there were no magical components aside from the power source and the partitioning of the AM radio frequencies.
And if the flow of electrons, magnetic field calculations, or other fundamental laws of electrical engineering were different in this universe, I had a lot more problems than a dud radio.
As Cell was fitting the pieces that served as the voice receiver into place, the floor hatch on my right slammed open.
“Eli! Ship!” Gula’s voice called out of the hole with a note of panic.
Running towards the hole, I started going over our healing implements and where to triage the cases.
“Was it the Intrepid or-“
“Not ours. It’s a water-bound ship on its way here.”
My stomach squeezed as my palms started sweating. Moving the ladder beside the hole into place, I made my way down as Cell shot onto my shoulder. When I was down in my room, I turned to see a panicked Gula behind me. My instincts told me to comfort her, but every second counted as we both ran out of the room and through the hallway. When I came onto the main meeting room, Salamede was nervously waiting on the left while Baloo and Beaton stood on the right, the former captain rubbing his large grey beard nervously.
“What’s going on?” I asked the group.
Salamede stepped forward.
“Durka was heading out on patrol and showing the Orcs the local landscape when they spotted two ships sailing here. They’ve dropped off a soldier to deliver the message and took back to the skies.”
“What about our other ship?” I asked the group. It was Beaton who coughed before answering.
“Still in the dock and ready to fly. I’d say we could take them out easily enough, but there’s another problem.” His brown eyes shifted nervously back towards the hangar.
I nodded for him to continue.
“They aren’t merchant vessels. One has the hard, copper-like hull and spikes of the Mist pirates, but the other is a thicker, dark beast of a ship. I’ve only seen or heard of one group that uses those, the Kispin harvesters. A specially made brute designed to rip the giant crustaceans from the seafloor and all the punishment they can give on the way up.”
Taking a deep breath, I told Cell to go cover up any trace of our presence outside and then tag alongside their ships. After they arrived, he was to meet me at the cave. His instructions received; he took a brief moment to prepare a wind spell. Everyone jerked back as he shot into the air and through the open door on the right, but I quickly pressed the conversation forward.
“That’s very interesting, Beaton. But what, by all the graces of God, are they doing up here? These waters are too barren to sustain such beasts.”
Beaton nodded as his hands ran over his blue coat in a nervous tick.
“I have a good idea, but if it’s really why they’re here, we’d best make sure nothing around the base will give away our position.”
Having reached a point of agreement, we all parsed out our tasks before breaking into smaller groups. Gula and Salamede left to still whatever work was going on and check around the outer hatch to make sure it was properly covered. I went to the cave to double-check for anything that might give away our presence and to fully seal the side entrance. As I ran through the workshop with its long tables, Beaton kept pace behind me and spat out his theory on our uninvited guests, an impressive feat considering his age and size.
“I’d say they’re probably here to set up shop. Or at least start the measurements for it.”
My legs nearly gave out at the wretched words, but I kept on, moving past confused workers while the usual chorus of hammers and ripping cloth gradually died with people running around telling others to cease their labor. Though Beaton still talked as we came into the wide expanse of the hangar with my first ship in the back left.
“There’s always some spat between the kingdom and the Burning Mist. But the seas would run dry before either let it get in the way of gathering magical meat or plants, lest those mages without borders take their lost investment in lives. The pirates hold a few islands outside of their mountain of burning steam on the seas and when the fighting looks like it will impede a harvest from either end, one of the opposing side's ships will escort around the laborer's ships to find somewhere else to set up shop. If such an operation can be moved. Otherwise, a ceasefire is worked out.”
As I came towards the hatch on the right corner that led to the caves below, my stomach was doing flips.
“Get with your men,” I commanded as I prepared an earth spell, “I want every scrap of knowledge they have about the Kispin haulers.” Beaton promptly obeyed as he nodded before running off.
Going down into the cave, I quickly scoured for any pieces of cloth or discarded food. Fortunately, the people were either immaculate cleaners or too mentally close to destitution from their previous lives to consider throwing anything away. Walking across the slippery stone floor as the ocean on my left went back and forth with the waves inside the cave walls, I pulled on the stalagmite that served as the door handle to our water room.
Not taking any chances, I shut down our water intake and heating pool before filling in the underwater wall that brought in seawater from the open cave. Once that was finished, I closed the door again and used an earth spell to stop the door handle from moving again. I didn’t want to have to kill these ships and their crew by them finding us, but I still needed to know as much as I could. Sealing the door into the cave, I stood still behind it as a mana lamp above bath me in a golden glow.
Using an earth spell to make a small hole in the wall with a ninety-degree turn to prevent the escape of light, I was almost finished when I hear the hatch above open.
“Eli,” Gula said quietly somewhere behind me from atop the stairs. “We’re ready.”
I didn’t turn around, instead only nodding to the stone wall in front of me.
“Get those noise-deadening crafts and put them over the hatch. I want to find out as much as I can, and I’d stake my life on them checking out the cave for additional storage.”
The smacking of shoes on stone told me she left to see finish her task. As I was making the small entrance for Cell to spy on the newcomers, my animal instincts started running wild. It was that moment of panic, when the fragile glass chalice slipped from the fingers and the mind struggled to find the right motions to keep it from crashing into the floor, that started clouding my mind.
But this wasn’t a momentary accident, and the stream of questions was corralled while I made the entrance for Cell. Once that was finished, all I could do was go over what would give us away. The outer hatch was covered and any holes for air circulation were being seen to. With nothing to do but wait, it was only a few more minutes of idle agony before Cell knocked on the door.
Sending a blast of wind through the hole, my familiar black oval head peeked out with a spirit connection quickly running across my skin. It was largely what the flight crew described, though the presence of a pirate on the Kispin hauler was an added detail. He also showed me that they had stopped outside the cave after making a few rounds around the island and the barnacle's concrete-like fields of stone. All tasks finished, Cell went back through the hole and covered the top with a fake rock cap.
It was a good thirty minutes or so before the new guests arrived. I was getting the image of the cave from Cell who was around eye level and, more importantly, could see the small boat being rowed through the waves as the two larger ships behind it anchored in place. The big, almost black ship dwarfed the one on the right, but it lacked the lethality of its copper-skinned companion. More towering laborer than killer.
The rowboat had four decent-looking sailors and two men, one on the right wearing a long grey coat and tipped hat that contrasted with his tan skin. The other was older and rather pale, having the grey robes and skinny form of an office worker. Between the two men in the middle were long poles of varying sizes. When they finally made landfall, the two quickly went about their work while I prepared a discreet wind spell to listen in on their conversations.
Putting the poles at different spots along the floor and walls, they were clearly measuring for something to be put in. Their verbal sniping and irritated faces made their mood equally clear. After a good hour of work and the scribe writing on a piece of paper with a quill and well of ink chained on his hip, they both finished their respective tasks with a nod near the entrance of the cave. As the sailors were putting the poles back into the boat, the two gentlemen had their first words that weren’t based on measuring some section of stone.
“Now back to the ray of sunshine squatting on the ship.” The scribe moaned. A snort from the first mate drew his head to the right.
“I know it’s rough, but we may not have to put up with them if things hold together.”
The scribe disappointedly shook his head.
“Lad, one of life’s lessons is to expect the worst as it will usually come. It’s been pure wisdom these past few decades. An undeniable truth these past few months.”
With that, they both got in their boat. It was an uneventful trip back to their ship, as was their turnaround and move back onto the other side of the island as the afternoon sun played across their white sails and the shifting waves. Seeing the wide berth they were taking out onto the open sea away from the island, I waited until the ships left Cell’s view before I told him to help our ship in the air follow them. He promptly flew out and with the spirit connection cut, I had my tasks to see to.
Going back up the stairs, I went towards the meeting room. Along the way, I stopped at one of the Orc workers nervously standing to the side.
“Tell my wives, Kantor, Beaton and Baloo I want them in the meeting room.”
Her heavy leather apron swayed with her eager head nod.
Once I moved past the workshop tables and the expansion on the left, I went into the room and sat at the round wooden table. I looked at the columns and the surrounding grey walls. The metal and wood skin that buffered our stonework from the barnacles would be a monster of a task to rip out. As I pondered various logistics of moving the base, our home's top members began arriving.
Gula sat at my left with Baloo beside her. The Frojans’ blue robe was brushing up against Beaton’s blue coat who sat on his left. On my right was Salamede wearing her blue dress from this morning. At her right was Kantor, the older, black-furred Kelton man with swirling brown horns that curled around his metal armor. At his right were the two magical brothers, Jeff and Andrew. Uninvited, but not unwelcome.
“What have you heard?” I asked without preamble as my gaze fixed on the sea captain.
“Not much.” Beaton shrugged sadly. “The Kispin harvesters are from the respectable side of society and I only knew of those who harvest magical resources from my days as a soldier. One of the crew who had some bragging extended family said that they won’t set up shop in the Kelton lands.”
Kantor snorted with a flare of his snout.
“I’d say so. The clan heads all know what will happen if the humans move in on one clan’s turf.”
I had feared as much. Having recognized our sparse knowledge, I got to the painful subject.
“Since we can’t say for certain what’s driving them, we’ll have to consider moving.”
There were grimaces all-around at that. It was obvious how painful that would be even to the newcomers. Not as painful as getting our heads chopped off if we were discovered, but quite a thorn all the same.
“To that end,” I continued, “Does any of you know somewhere else we could go?”
There were shifting gazes all around the table. Sadly, they were looking for answers rather than giving them.
“Could we move to the mainland?” Baloo asked the assembled attendees around the table. “Out on the snowy wastes?”
Kantor pondered on it for a bit before throwing his opinion about his former home out.
“What if we dug deep enough? We might be able to hide our activity. But being on the mainland, we’d draw the undead unless we have some magic to hide us from them.”
I shook my head, something the two brothers unconsciously mirrored.
“Not unless Eli has some science technique.” Jeff put in with a wave of his black hair. “No mage at any academy knows how they detect the living, and no magical element blocks whatever that sense is.”
“Another problem with that is the construction,” I said. “I could have some decent arches and workings in place, but if I went deep enough I’d have to put in special vents to maintain airflow. Something that would draw interested parties in, if only for the heat.”
His suggestion crushed to a fine powder, Kantor offered a defeated shrug to the assembly.
“Well, the mainland is no good then. Not if you don’t want to start drawing eyes to the giant spot of the undead ambling around a single area.”
I leaned back in my chair, keeping my bitter impatience in check.
“What about going further west? The ice caps between the northern Rodring and Bodding kingdoms might have some shelter for us there.”
It was a good idea that the Kelton man immediately killed.
“Those waters are heavily patrolled, and not just because of a sibling rivalry between two dead men who lived thousands of years ago. Our estranged cousins from the Demon Coast will occasionally wash up on shores far away from our homeland. Between that and making sure the Orcs from Ballud’s Folly don’t start a navy, those seas are constantly under watch.”
Sighing from emotional exhaustion, I looked up into the golden glow of the mana lamp above, trying to find the answer to this mess in its soft radiance. My skin crawled with a nervous energy that seemed to seep into the room. People began to realize what a problem this was and beads of sweat were seen on every face and chin now as furrowed eyes looked for answers in the other's equally lost faces. It was Beaton whose deep voice then sounded out.
“They’re probably considering this place for the same reasons you did.” He announced as I turned to him, along with everyone else. “The undead or natural wildlife would clobber them if they settled on the mainland. There’re no other major island chains around aside from the one the kingdom was using as a patrol base and it’s too close to the fighting to be considered.”
My teeth clenched as I moved forward.
“I don’t suppose a few accidents would deter them?”
Beaton leaned back with a sad smile and raised eyebrows.
“If you’re asking how many dead peasants the great powers would expend to get their magical meat, the answer is all of them. Throwing bodies at the problem until it fixes itself is a time-honored tradition on the seas. Not that I’d doubt your ability to kill them, but I’d imagine killing whole fleets of ships around our secret hideaway would defeat the purpose of attacking them.”
The pall of fear in the room began to squeeze all the souls present while I completed my lean forward by putting my head in my tired hands. Ignoring some of the shuffling and whispers, I groped for the essential item we needed. It took only a few seconds before the answer came to me. We didn’t know what the math behind the hauler’s actions was and that was what we needed first and foremost. The path forward was now clear. Painful, risky, and time-consuming, but we were taking it all the same. Pulling myself up, I turned towards the two brothers in grey shirts.
“Well, lads, it looks like the theater is calling you again.”
Andrew closed his eyes behind his brown hair for a moment before opening them as Jeff sat mute.
“What joy.” The former redhead exclaimed with phony excitement, “I suppose we’ll be doing some more log riding?”
“No,” I refuted. “We need to know what the haulers are doing and why. You’ll be two young enterprising mages, looking to offload a cache of mana crystals, expanded bags, and whatever else we can kill out in the wilds for magical resources. Bad times suck in coin like air, and I’ll bet they’re desperate for some new financial lubricant. If they’re not, try to invest in some taverns or other businesses that deal with them. If we can’t get it straight from their mouths, we’ll get it from their barmaids and shipbuilders.”
The brothers both nodded at my proposal, though Jeff put up a hand.
“We’d better not bring any space expanded bags. I know you sling them out with all the ceremony of a blacksmith forging horseshoes, but only a few of the highest members of society have those. I remember it was noteworthy that the king’s family has one such heirloom. It’s considered a priceless treasure of their lineage and if we have even one, it’ll raise too many questions that we can’t answer.”
Nodding at the suggestion, I looked between Kanto and Beaton.
“I want you two to get together and look for anything we can kill for a quick bit of magical resources. Cell will help you when he returns. While that gets sorted out, I’m going to be focusing on a special task.”
There were intrigued looks all around, but I only nodded in return. There were a lot of tasks to assign and finish in the wake of the newest disaster, but there were one or two that only I could complete. That thought propelled me forward as the other attendants got up to see to the various chores that had now shoved aside all others. Heading back into my room, I spent the rest of the day getting the radio system working while I left all other issues to those I had entrusted them to.