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The Crimson Mage
Chapter 117 - Book 3 Chapter 37

Chapter 117 - Book 3 Chapter 37

“I had wanted to wait until Mary Sue got back,” Sonny said as he led Orenda down the hidden passage that led to the living area, “So I’m going to ask everyone.”

“Ask them what?” Orenda asked, “What are we doing?”

Sonny elected not to answer, and instead began to hum to the tune of Little Bunny Foo Foo. When he entered the living area the children were gathered around Gareth and Falsie, both of whom were holding a baby and seemed to be in the middle of some sort of fantastical tale.

“Twenty feet long if it was an inch,” Gareth said, “And coming straight for shore! And that was one of the small ones-”

Sonny tapped his sister, Honey, on the shoulder, and leaned in to whisper in her ear. She had been leaning over the back of the couch, listening to the story, but when he spoke to her she frowned.

“Not yet,” She said, “Wait till Mary Sue gets back.”

“The snow is making her sick, and I think it’s some magic bullshit. We don’t have time to wait on Mary Sue. And…” He leaned in to whisper something else to her- but Orenda was fairly certain she knew what it was. Sonny, perhaps more than his siblings, was a realist. He knew that after another few days with no word, and the weather turning against them, it was possible that Mary Sue wasn’t coming back. Without the Knight of Order in Basilglen, it was possible that she had been captured and taken to the queen. Sonny thought of that sort of unpleasantness when no one else would.

Honey frowned again at what he had said, and Orenda was almost certain she had guessed correctly, because she said, “Don’t say shit like that, Son.”

“It’s true,” Sonny said. “Is it finished?”

“No,” Honey said, “Mary Sue took the balaclava with her to finish on the trip.”

“But the rest of it is finished,” Sonny said, “And she can wear mine.”

Honey eyed Orenda, sighed, and stood.

“I’ll get the others,” She said, and disappeared down the hall leading to the sleeping rooms.

Orenda stood, patiently, listening to Gareth tell a story that was almost certainly false, until Honey returned, followed by every adult Brigaddon except Mary Sue and Lapus. She held a box in her hands and cleared her throat loudly.

“I’m sorry,” Gareth narrowed his eyes, “Did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours?”

“We’d like to give Orenda something,” Sonny said.

“Rendy, we’ve all taken turns working on this,” Honey said.

“We got the measurements from Falsie, and he swears they were right, but I think you’ve lost weight around the waist since then from your training.” Bunni said. “You may have to tie it tighter.”

“Well there goes your belly dancing career,” Gareth said.

Orenda knew what was inside the box that Honey handed her. She knew before she opened it. But she was surprised to see it come in so many pieces. As she opened it, the shimmer of the sterilite glistened in the artificial lights, and she rushed to the writing desk to take out each item individually. A pair of gloves was folded neatly on the top of the pile, and under them a long pair of stockings. Next she pulled out a long knitted undershirt, the kind that was in fashion in Uril and meant to be worn under a corset. I was long-sleeved, winter wear, and the yarn it was made of was so fine that it was very lightweight, like the stockings. Now that she knew how slowly knitwear came together she could not imagine how they had made it so quickly. One of them must have been constantly working on it. Finally, the box held a pair of long winter underpants, made in the same fashion. If she wore them all together, it would leave only her face exposed. Orenda slid one of the gloves onto her hand, and was amazed at how soft and well fitted it was- but these were expert craftspeople, and it was made of angora.

A set like that, even if it hadn’t been made of sterilite, if it had been made of normal angora, would have been prohibitively expensive. But it had cost the Brigaddon’s nothing but their time. They really could spin hair into gold. And every stitch was made by someone who considered her a sister. It was made of their own hair, of pieces of them.

“Some of it was daddy’s,” Sonny said, “The fiber, I mean. We’ve got lots of it left over. We want to save it, for the kids. Once they finish growing we want to make sure they all get an outfit that has a piece of him. He always considered you one of his kids, Rendy.”

“This is amazing,” Orenda said as she turned to face all of them, “I… I came here to get this. This is what I came here for. But… when I began I only wanted it because… it was to be a tool, a set of armor against the Emerald Knight. But it means so much more to me now. Now I hate to wear it into battle… because I wouldn’t want to dirty or break it.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Go put it all on,” Sonny urged her, “And I’ll let you borrow my balacavada. We’ll see what the snow has to say when no magic can get to you.”

Orenda ducked behind a tree and readied another snowball.

It wasn’t only Sonny that followed her upstairs and into the land behind the house- nearly every Brigaddon had wanted to see if the armor worked.

And it had. It had worked magnificently.

Orenda could not feel the weight of the magic in the air; the snow could not bother her. But she also found that it was no longer melting in her hands. Under the sterilite gloves the magic could not escape outward, any more than it could inward. She was trapped with her magic, and if she wore the full outfit, she wouldn’t be able to use it against the Emerald Knight. She thought that she would go without the gloves, but wondered if that would leave her vulnerable.

Sonny poked his head out from the other side of the row, and Orenda readied the ball to throw- when she realized she was outnumbered. Three smaller heads popped out one by one, and Orenda saw Harvey, Angel and Frank had arrived, apparently as his reinforcements. Still, she thought she could at least hit him, right in his smug face, and she was right. She may have never been very athletic, but she had always had quite good aim.

He staggered into the middle of the row of trees, did a dramatic spin on his heel, and fell onto his back.

“I’ve been hit!” He exclaimed as if he was in an amphitheater, “Avenge me, my family! Do not let my death be in vain!”

“Taking you a real long time to die,” Angel said.

“Listen to me, come, my brother, come here, and listen well to my dying wish.”

“No,” Angel said.

“AVENGE ME!” Sonny yelled, reaching for the heavens.

Orenda threw another snowball at him and hit him in the side of his head.

“AVENGE ME!” He cried, and the children began to pelt him with snowballs as Orenda laughed.

Something cold and wet slammed into her head, and she looked up.

Alice was sitting in the tree, compacting another snowball in her small hands.

“Know your environment,” She said, and threw it as hard as she could at Orenda’s head.

“Stop!” Sonny said, but the children ignored him, so he held out a hand, climbed to his feet, and said in a much more commanding and serious voice, “Stop it! Everyone be quiet! Do y’all hear that?”

All sound stopped instantly, and Orenda heard the sheepdogs the family kept begin to bark. Sonny tilted his head and spoke softly.

“Someone’s here,” He said, “Can any of you read?”

“No,” the children said.

“Are any of you shifters?” He asked.

“No,” The children answered.

“Who owns this place?” Sonny asked.

“Mr Langil,” the children answered.

“Where do we live?”

“The slave quarters.”

“And what do we do?” Sonny asked.

“When you’re on your feet, keep your head held high

But when you’re on your knees, smile and lie

Tell them “alright”, Tell them “Ok”

But when they leave don’t do anything they say.” The children all chanted softly.

“Good,” Sonny said, “I’ll deal with this. Rendy, get underground, in case it’s Agalon.”

“Right,” Orenda agreed, and took off at a sprint towards the house. She did not think of how much faster she could move now than she could even when she was running for her life from a demon. She did not think, as she cleared the stairs two or three at a time, that she was no longer out of breath or panting as she sprinted. She did not think how much stronger her arms were as she pulled open the shelf that led into the secret passage, how much easier it was to pull or push things with her core strength, how easily her stance widened and her legs held the extra weight. As she pulled the shelf closed behind her she did not think of how strong she had been as a child, and how strong she was again now.

It had all happened so gradually, when she had lost and gained her physical strength, that she did not realize it had happened. But the truth is that things like strength, flexibility, durability and speed were not gained or lost in a day. Xaxac had known that, and he had imparted that knowledge onto his children. Brigaddons were fighters not because they were born or bred into it, as Sonny’s old master had once believed. They were fighters because they had been trained by their cage fighter of a father and assassin of mother. They were strong, but they were also sneaky, and well hidden.

But Orenda was concerned. The Brigaddons were supposed to be helping people, yet no runaway humans had come through the house the entire time Orenda had been there. And the group that had gone to look for supplies was missing.

So Orenda went to her bedroom, where Gareth and Bella were sitting on their bed, resting against the headboard, with Anilla and Falsie on the other bed and all four babies split between them. Bella had been reading from a storybook, but when Orenda came in she fell silent at the look of her.

“Someone’s here,” Orenda said, and unscrewed the valve that ran along the wall to listen in to what was happening upstairs.