Chapter 10
WHAT’S SO FUNNY ABOUT HATCHING?
Finn was full when he finally stepped into the massive stone-built forge hall. At each end of the hall, sizeable wooden slide doors covered square archways big enough to roll a cart through. To the right, another archway led out to the triangular forge. It was the prominent stone structure Finn had seen when approaching from the lake. The thick stone triangle was twenty feet wide at the base and ten feet deep. It was hollow from three feet up until it reached its peak, and from there, a fat chimney rose up another twenty feet. Inside the open stone triangle were piles of small rocks that glowed a fierce whitish red, emitting an intense heat Finn could feel from across the room. The hall rang with the sounds of hissing metal and hammers striking steel. The other smiths had all piled out of the kitchen long before Finn and Hamish.
“That must be the forge, then. Why is it outside and not built into the hall?” Finn asked. Today, he was determined to learn as much as he could about Hamish’s world.
Hamish shook his lowered head and winced. He’d been okay at breakfast, but he’d started to look increasingly sickly as time wore on. “It’s out there cuz it’s too hot to be in here,” he groaned. “Gis a little time to clear me head, please, lad. I blame Neeve for bringing that mead she makes las night. It keeps comin’ back at me. Gimmee ol’-fashioned ale any day. For one thing, ale dunna make your brain feel like rats is runnin’ around in it.”
Finn chuckled. It was unfair to mock Hamish’s hangover because he had never experienced one, being Manaborn. His insides didn’t digest anything. His mana system simply grabbed anything he ingested and turned it into mass or mana, whichever he needed the most. Still, it was apparent how the mead had affected Hamish. The difference between last night’s raucous singing and now was considerable.
“Here, drink a little of this. Aggy said it’ll take the edge off your suffering,” Finn said as he handed him a fat brown bottle with a stubby cork.
Hamish looked at the bottle as if it was Gorbytch himself but uncorked it anyway and took a generous swig. His face went greener, and he burped loudly. After a short while, he straightened up and started to plait his unruly beard.
“I dinnae know wha she puts in that stuff, but it’s right evil tasting,” Then he grinned and bumped Finn’s shoulder with his fist. “It bloody does the trick every time, though.”
The dwarf paused in thought. “Wha I wanna know is how are you so kin’ chirpy? You drank more of that demon’s water than I did las night. Are ye made o’ iron or some’t?” Hamish shook his head. “My own son can out-drink his Da. I must be getting old.”
“I’m not made of iron,” Finn replied with a slight grin, “I’m made of mana. My species of fae, the Manaborn, are born from a magical breeding ceremony unique to our kind. The parents chant and pour their mana into the breeding circle before eventually getting a magical sphere when the ceremony is completed. They feed it mana for a few years before it splits open and out pops a spiritling. That then grows rapidly until it eventually becomes a Manaborn child.”
Hamish laughed a deep belly laugh. “Ye waz hatched from a magic egg?” He managed to ask before resorting to more laughter.
Finn’s mouth set. He was used to being teased, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He debated whether to explain that the reproductive cycle of most species began with an egg. Finn shuddered as his mind quickly shut that idea down. Discussing reproduction with his newly adoptive father was absolutely nowhere on his list of things to do.
Hamish’s meaty hand clamped around Finn’s shoulder as he bent in hysterical laughter. “Oh! Goddess’ buttocks, that’s funny. Di’ yer ma sit on yer egg?” He howled as his laughter increased, making him wheeze to catch his breath. Then suddenly, it stopped, and he quickly straightened to attention.
“Hello, my love. Di’ ya need anything?” Hamish said in a voice as sweet as honey.
“Hamish Smith,” Came an angry, feminine voice. “I hope you are not teasing our poor son so soon after he arrived?” Aggy growled from behind Finn.
Finn whirled around. Aggy flashed him a sheepish smile before focusing her razor-sharp glare on Hamish again. “Well?” she barked.
“We waz jus’ havin’ a bit o fun, my love. Nuthin’ malicious, like,” The poor dwarf seemed to wither as he tried to soothe his seething wife.
“It’s okay, Ma,” Finn said, hoping it might calm her if he called her that. “I’d just told him how my species have children. Hamish couldn’t believe I was born from a sphere of mana.”
“That’s nice, dear?” Aggy said in a tone of forced innocence. Her shoulders twitched, and the corners of her mouth curled upwards quickly before she could force them down again. A panicked look flashed across her face before her efforts to stifle her laughs failed.
Finn harrumphed as Aggy and Hamish both disintegrated into fits of guffaws. He tried to ignore their laughter and told himself he should be content that his new parents were so happy. Finn endured their mirth briefly but became fed up after the second minute. He turned and took a few steps towards the sliding door nearest Gypsy.
“No, no, please, Finn. We’re sorry, lad. We shunnae laughed like tha’,” Hamish said, trying to force a little reticence onto his features and failing.
“Finn, dear. Stop, please. Our laughing at you like that must have been bad for you. We should be ashamed of ourselves as your new parents,” Aggy said pleadingly.
Finn didn’t know what to think. He was used to having Gypsy as the only one he could trust. Maybe he’d been stupid to believe that two goddess-appointed dwarves would be any more likely to accept him. Finn liked their species. The land of the fae had dwarves living among them. Most simply passed through, travelling from one world gateway to another, but some stayed to build a life. He’d even had one dwarf in his engineering team. He’d been good at his job, so Finn knew he could trust some of them. These two were still relatively unknown to him, and he’d stupidly blundered under their wing without a thought. He was annoyed at himself for trusting so blindly.
“Finn?” Aggy said worriedly. Her face was serious, and her eyes had an edge of panic. “You can hear us, right?”
A flash of confusion went through Finn’s mind before he realised he must have become lost in his reverie and tuned them out. “Yes, I can hear you. I’m fine; I have been all morning. Don’t worry.” A small amount of testiness was still in his voice, which he quashed as soon as he realised.
Both dwarves looked mortified. It was as if they were the naughty children, and it was Finn chastising them.
“We’re sorry. It’s just the concept of you hatching is so alien to us, and our brains are still a little befuddled from that wicked mead my sister brought to the party,” Aggy said, looking beseechingly at Finn. “Don’t be angry with us, please.”
Finn wasn’t angry. He’d been bemused at being the object of ridicule again, but he wouldn’t waste his anger on the two kind-hearted people who’d volunteered to take him in. His wrath was for people like the Ravagers, slavers or anyone who threatened Gypsy.
He stepped forward, stooped a bit, and then hugged them both tightly. His previous breath wheezed back out of his lungs when four strong arms enthusiastically hugged him back.
“I’m not angry, by the way, just impatient. I’d been looking forward to learning how to smith,” Finn said.
Hamish straightened up and grinned widely. He gave Finn a proud fatherly look. “Right, ye are then! That’s my department. Let’s get ye started if that’s all it was.” The heavyset dwarf bustled over to a coat hanger and grabbed two thick leather aprons. He looked at both and handed Finn the one with the least soot on the front. Then he grabbed an old pair of metal-rimmed goggles and a pair that looked brand new from a nearby workbench. He handed Finn the new ones and slid the other ones over his bald head.
Aggy wrapped her thick arm around Finn’s narrow waist. “Whatever we do, I beg you to understand that we will never—and I truly mean never, mean you any disrespect, scorn or ill will. We both accept you as our son now. We’re your family.” Aggy paused and then smiled softly. “I must warn you, though. Dwarves do love a good laugh. Don’t be too hard on us when it happens, okay?”
Finn grinned wickedly. “Likewise, Ma.”
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Aggy gave him a sidelong glance, then snorted. “This will all take some getting used to, but we’ll get there. Just keep calling me Ma. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” Then she turned and walked back to the house.
“Right, lad, now the boss isn’t watching. Let’s get you working,” Hamish said enthusiastically. “What do you know about smithing?”
“I learnt a little while studying engineering at the military academy,” Finn explained. “I’ve studied the properties of various metals and their ideal working temperatures. I’ve also done a little smelting and worked on making simple moulds. The only thing I got to make during my training was a silver dagger, both the carved handle and the blade, but they took that off me at the end of the project.”
“Well, well, well. Sounds like ye’ve a lot of theory but no much practice. Am I right?” Hamish asked.
“Yes. I don’t forget anything I read, so all the theory is still in my head,” Finn explained. “I see the forge, the anvil and the tools, and I know what should be done, but I’m still uncertain about how.”
“Well, that’s a fair place ta make a start, young’un.”
*****-*****
Sweat streamed down Finn’s face, dripped onto his neck, and trickled further down to soak into his wet clothes. Hamish merely glistened a little as he inspected the steel dagger blade Finn had spent most of the day creating.
Today, he’d learned to get the metal to the proper heat by positioning it correctly among the volcanically heated stones. Then Hamish had shown him the exact way to strike the hot metal against the right-sized anvil. Also, what to look for, when to add more heat, how to fold the metal to give it additional strength and flexibility, and so many other tiny details that made everything just right to make a quality dwarven blade. A mark of the best quality, which his race had always been fiercely proud of.
“The tang’s a wee bit narrow, lad, and your edge could be a smidge sharper. You probably missed a folding cycle. All things said an’ done, though, it’s nay bad fer yer first go at it,” Hamish said. “Now it is traditional for every crafter to keep their first piece. It dunnae matter how crappy it turns out. It’s a right o’passage. Put a handle on this un, and we’ll be puttin it up on the kitchen wall. It’ll be a damn site better exhibit than the badly drawn pictures some of the other parents have on their walls,” he chortled.
Finn shaped the handle on a nearby wood lathe and secured the tang within it using a foul-smelling glue that set fast in seconds. Then he returned to Hamish and presented his work with both hands and a slight bow. Finn felt a sense of deep satisfaction that he’d finished his dagger. They hung their aprons back up and trudged wearily back to the dwarf’s home. They both gave Gypsy a wave as they passed her by.
“Been having fun, dear?” Gypsy thought to Finn sweetly.
“It’s been a good day, yes. Dare I ask what you’ve been busy with?” Finn replied tentatively.
“I’ve managed to magically extend our sight all the way across to the far edge of the monastery. This place is packed with every aspect of life, and it never stops. It never slows down. It’s like watching an anthill that someone kicked over,” Gypsy enthused.
“I’m relieved you’ve been entertained,” Finn said, delighted his ward hadn’t become frustrated with boredom. “I’ll be back later to start digging through the library.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes, Aggy has invited Neeve over again. This time, she made her sister promise to not bring a bottle,” Finn snorted, remembering Hamish’s tender state this morning.
“Right, you are. A really sordid area of the city has just started to wake up and get busy. I think I’ll watch that for a while. I might learn some tricks.”
Finn laughed to himself. “Fair enough, dearest. Have fun.”
“Finn!” His aunt Neeve happily shouted as he entered the kitchen.
Apparently, female dwarves liked to hug, as Neeve had her arms around him in seconds. A good thing about Neeve was that she was unwed and tall enough to kiss him, unlike her sister. Finn had quickly grown to like her hugs. He’d also discovered he liked her kisses, too. On this occasion, Neeve limited herself to chaste kisses on his cheek, but it was early. Last night, she’d even introduced him to her tongue. That caught him by surprise until she’d carefully explained how to respond to such intimacy. By the night's end, he’d become quite good at it.
Aggy looked over at the two, and instead of rescuing her poor son, she just grinned and shook her head. “Neeve has certainly taken a shine to you, dear. She normally dislikes men.”
“Not all men,” Neeve shot back at her sister. “Just the creepy ones that always insist I measure them several times, ‘just to be sure’.”
Aggy sniggered. “That is most of them, then.”
“Well, I’ll be making certain to measure this one thoroughly,” Neeve said, holding Finn at arm’s length, appraising him, and returning him to her clutches.
Hamish laughed. “Watch that one, son. If yer nae careful, you could end up as me brother-in-law.”
“And that would be a good thing, dear. It would do Neeve good to finally settle down,” Aggy added quickly.
Neeve grinned at Finn, then went right on with her hug. This time, her hands wandered downward a little.
It occurred to Finn that having a loving, good-looking woman in his life would be perfect. Aggy and Hamish seemed to love each other and enjoy being together. Finn wanted that sort of relationship. He surreptitiously reappraised the lady striving to strangle his buttocks. She was the tallest of the three dwarves, reaching the lofty height of five feet, two inches. Her hair was chest length like her sister’s, but it was raven black. Today, instead of braids, she had let her wavy locks flow down her back. Her large, piercing amber eyes sent shivers down Finn’s spine every time she gave him one of her appraising looks. Her nose was sharper than most dwarves, and highly kissable lips framed her sensual mouth.
Neeve and Aggy weren’t stocky like many dwarves tended to be, so Finn assumed that one of their parents had been slim. Instead, she was curvaceous in a most engaging way, with just the tiniest amount of heft to her features that just added to her curves. Finn was no expert, but he regarded her as beautiful in a proud, dwarven way. It didn’t hurt that she had an imposing bust that mashed against him when she hugged, a relatively narrow waist he could easily embrace and a generously appointed rump that he’d dearly like to hold on to.
Finn shook his head slightly and tried to purify the lewd thoughts that had mischievously skittered across his mind.
*****-*****
It was fast approaching midnight when Finn finally extricated himself from the social event that dwarven evening meals always became. He’d met a few more of the Smith’s extended family as they popped in and out during the evening. Some were even starting to look familiar. Keen to keep his promise, Finn hurried toward Gypsy and teleported when he was out of sight of the Smith’s kitchen door.
Finn gasped as he appeared. The large library had changed a lot since the last time he’d visited, a few weeks ago. The vaulted ceiling, lit by light crystals, was still where it had always been, as was the dark green carpet. The long central table surrounded by upholstered high-backed chairs hadn’t moved, and neither had the overstuffed green leather armchairs. No, what had changed were the neatly stacked rows of shelves that occupied almost the entire room, each leading into the centre from the walls. Instead of the nearly compulsive neatness Finn had always insisted upon, large piles of books and heavy scrolls were scattered liberally across the floor and tables. The tops of the shelves hadn’t been spared, either. The shelves were also a lot fuller than they ever had been. It was nigh impossible to guess, but Finn was sure there had to be well over a thousand additional texts in here now. He had been the most avid visitor to this library and knew it well. At least he had known it. Now, it looked as if a divine whirlwind had been through it.
“Oh, hello, dear. Nice of you to drop by,” Gypsy said. Her thoughts didn’t convey sarcasm, but it was obvious to Finn that she’d been anticipating his return.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s later than we’d hoped, but an evening meal for dwarves means the whole damn evening.” Finn replied, feeling guilty for his tardiness.
“Have you looked in the library since the refit,” Finn thought to Gypsy.
“We’ve been sort of busy since then. So, no, I haven’t,” Gypsy retorted.
Finn felt Gypsy’s consciousness join his as she scanned the room alongside him. Finn got the mental wash of disbelief before she even commented. “Woah! Did the Ravagers do this?” She thought.
“No. Well, I am almost certain they didn’t,” Finn replied. “I locked off the teleporter functions to all the admin areas. They couldn’t have got in.”
“Good point. Sooo, Liss, then? Or Danu’s avatar, perhaps?” Gypsy thought.
“The list of suspects is small. It had to be either of them. I suspect more likely both.” Finn stared at the shelves. Now that he thought about it, he noticed another change. “All the shelves are a little longer, and they’ve gained another four shelves worth of height. That had to be part of the avatar’s second boon.”
“I suppose. Instead of the meticulous way Danu’s avatar expanded our collection, Liss just put them wherever there was a spare surface. Uhm! There are so many more books in here now,” Gypsy’s thoughts came through with a hint of despair attached. “I’d stamp my foot if I had one. It’s going to take ages to find the one I want.”
“Or we could stumble across it first,” Finn replied, doing his best to stay positive.
“Yeah, yeah! Who knows or dares to dream, right?”
“That’s the ticket. Chin up, old girl.” Finn said, trying to think with an entitled Manaborn accent.
Gypsy snorted. “I’ll let the ‘old girl’ comment slide for now, but I will punish you for it one day.”
“I’ll have to hire a carpenter to add two or three more shelves on top of the existing bookcases. Despite the avatar’s best efforts, Liss added even more. There just isn’t the shelf space to accommodate it all,” Finn thought. “The room is tall enough, but I’ll need to get us a couple of rolling steps to reach the higher sections. Maybe we should hire a librarian, too. Finding someone we could trust might be the issue there, though.”
“If you’re in the mood for employing people, I think a gardener or four would be a good investment,” Gypsy said. “A lot of produce in the cultivation rooms will spoil if it isn’t harvested soon.
“Mmm! That is another good point. The Smiths, well, I suppose it’s ‘we’ now, have many relatives. I’d wager we could get help from a few of them. Keeping it in the family,” Finn thought about the idea. “But could we trust them? Maybe Aggy or Hamish could vouch for a few people.”
“Matters for another time,” Gypsy thought impatiently. “Get digging, minion. We’ve got a book to find.”