"While you're lounging about watching us work, why don't you read off that list of pyths Amber and Ashley finished this morning? It would be good to know what we have available," Gramps suggested, in English, indicating Stace with a fat thumb before turning back to the careful placement of the board he held. Each piece of wood fit together with the beautiful dovetails Chess had been forming from the luscious purple, grey-streaked wood of the dryad. Once they had it all in place again, a quick surge of Chess's magic would set it firmly and make it into a tank. Literally.
Earlier in the day, Kan and Ashley had spent an hour shooting different thicknesses and densities of the wood with Chess's crossbows and the other ranged weaponry they'd taken from the dead. Even going so far as to request she make a dozen bolts from the wood of the dryad for their experiment. Nothing made it through a half-inch thick slab of her densest test piece. So, at Gramps' behest, the wagons were made completely from one-inch thick boards.
Amber had also suggested that hostile foreign magic may also lose some of its cohesion when it hit the magical wood. At least that's what happened when attacking a living dryad.
“It's past midnight, and I just spent the day cutting and storing enough wood to fill our inventories and lugging these blasted pieces all the way here. Not to mention forming most of the parts for, not one, but two wagons, corralling the horses and hiding the tree. Now you’re implying I’m lazy? You're the one who insisted on finishing before we sleep.” Chess sighed dramatically and made a point of rubbing at her temples. Even though the underlying headache she’d had for most of the day had started to fade. “I’m never going to win with you, am I? I don’t want to wake Ashley and, besides, isn't reading in the dark bad for your eyes?” Chess indicated her daughter’s head nestled in her lap by brushing her hair out of her eyes.
“I’d hardly consider the short jaunt here and back to the tree to drop off the wagon parts onerous. You used your vault to store it. You used your magic for everything else. If you're not going to sleep like those four, you might as well make yourself useful. Unless you want to join the sergeant in his patrol? And don’t use your daughter for excuses. She’s sleeping like the dead. We’ve been banging about for over an hour with this and she hasn’t stirred.” Gramps indicated the resting members of their group.
Not for the first time, Chess studied Steven's frail form until his chest rose and fell with a breath.
“You know, you just made my point for me, old man,” Chess muttered under her breath, as she turned back to her grandfather.
“Dwarf,” Stace corrected.
“Oh, don’t start. That’s already getting old.” Chess pointed at the smirking cat woman.
“I would like a refresher, now that I know what I should be considering for my free slots,” Stace said.
"If you don't feel like reading, you could always start loading the other wagon. Its bed is done," Gramps suggested.
“Pass... Fine, I'll read the damn list,” Chess capitulated with a put-upon sigh.
Careful not to jostle Ashley, she extricated herself from under her daughter's head and stood to summon her absurdly full vault. The group had collectively agreed to carry most of what they would be using for the trip. The only things they kept in her and Gramps' inventories, other than blocks of the Dryad's wood, were the collection of pyth, a store of meat and organs, the delvers and soldiers' skulls or heads, and the hides from the lions. All the horse feed, seeds, and coins went into Gramps’ extra space.
Gramps had been pleased that the extra space allowed him to store berries and the containers to hold anything that went inside, as long as they didn’t take more than five percent of the used space.
Chess had kept a few pyth bags filled with seeds tied to an extra belt for use with her magic.
Everything else, including the gear collected from the soldiers and goods collected from the muskrats, waited to be loaded into the wagons Gramps and Stace were in the process of assembling.
They'd buried the bandit's skulls, encased in normal ironwood, near the Dryad's tree, before Chess had grown a dense maze of brambles to disguise the behemoth remains.
Chess perched herself on the bench of the nearly finished open-bed wagon and studied the list for a moment.
With a bit of Stace's coveted charcoal, Amber had written two neat columns on a thin sheet of ironwood paper that Chess had made, one with the name and the latter with their current totals in doses beside.
"Well?" Stace prompted when Chess had made it about halfway down. There were a surprising number of entries.
Chess cleared her throat delicately and started in her best imitation of a southern belle. "Oh! Bless your heart. Right! First, we have 56 doses of House Cleaning Pyth. Apparently this delectable pyth tastes like soap. A delightful reminder of those times mother caught you swearing as a child. Next, we have eleven doses of Create Water Pyth. Which creates water, not the sweet tea we all know and love."
"Oh please Loki, stop!" Stace groaned. "Just read the damn list like a normal person."
"How rude, worshipping pagan gods in front of impressionable young souls! Kenneth? Would you be a dear?" Chess nodded in Stace's direction.
Stace facepalmed.
Gramps stifled a laugh behind a large hand and nearly dropped the board he was fitting into the dovetailing on the side of the wagon.
"What's a dose?" Gramps asked.
"Well, good sir, a dose or dash is a tenth of the required amount to fill a slot. Amber, the dear girl, said a tenth is a common amount for the icky alchemists and stuffy enchanters to use."
Stace groaned.
Chess scoffed and, maintaining character, started with another soft cough and 'bless your hearts.'
"Next we have seventeen doses of Strengthened Shield Pyth. Which I assume makes the wooden bulwarks more durable. Then we have the remainder of the two the former sergeant Hilkan took. Shield Bash and Shield Pyth leaving us 23 doses of the former and 45 of the latter."
"If this is how you're going to be as a fake noble, I'm out," Stace groaned louder.
Chess failed to keep a straight face and burst into soft chuckles for a handful of seconds.
"Okay, fine, I'll just read them," she conceded and, once she caught her breath, turned back to the list.
"Waterweaver Structural Silk Pyth 73 doses
Waterweaver Dragline Silk Pyth 61 doses
Swathing Silk Pyth 103
Waterweaver Egg Sac Silk Pyth 41
Waterweaver Net-Silk Pyth 69
Sticky Silk Pyth 12
Light Showers Pyth 12
Rock-Claw Pyth 51
Buffet Pyth 51
Water Breathing Pyth 83 doses
Deep Dive Pyth 24
Swift-Swim Pyth 56
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Rot Pyth 13
Strengthen Bone Pyth 16
Troll Skin Pyth 5
Inventory Pyth 46 doses"
"I still think we should’ve talked Kan into slotting that so we could’ve taken more wood,” Chess added.
Gramps shook his head. “Your girl, Amber, was right. It will be much better to wait until we have enough to raise yours or mine. The increases are exponential. Rank two in Shield and Shield Bash were the right choices for him.”
"Yeah, I just hated leaving most of that tree behind."
"It may be best in the long run," Gramps tempered. "We don't know what kinds of tariffs or fees we'll need to pay on the raw wood. I hope Amber was right about the smaller blocks being seen as less valuable. The planks we put in my space may come back to bite us. Please continue."
Chess nodded.
"Weaving Pyth 15 doses
Logistics Pyth 71 doses–"
"Put a mark for me on that one," Gramps interrupted.
Chess gave him a thumbs-up before making a little dick symbol beside the entry.
"Disease Pyth 7 doses
Dash Pyth 63
Sure Foot Pyth 56
Soft Step Pyth 34
Sharpen Pyth 31
Dig Pyth 56
Strengthen Ligaments Pyth 21
Reduced Carry Pyth 43"
"That one as well," Gramps said from the far side of the wagon. The pair had nearly finished placing the walls on the tinker wagon.
"Sure thing." Chess nodded and drew another penis with the grains of wood.
"Reaping Pyth 26
Harvest Pyth 31
Curved Shot Pyth 58
Volley Pyth 156
Piercing Shot Pyth 91
Penetration Pyth 59 doses"
"Those four have Stace written beside them," Chess said.
"Yeah, Amber mentioned that if I'm going to be an enchanter it would be best to specialize. Since you can make good crossbows and bolts, that set could be a profitable way to go. I still want to be a tattoo artist though. Which is something she's only heard of from some rare beastkin tribes," Stace explained.
"Okay, Power Attack Pyth 57 doses
Binding Pyth 38
Sanding Pyth 21
Wind Sense 6
Earth Sense 4
Improved Smell Pyth 25
Dampen Odor Pyth 61"
"That's a maybe for me," Gramps cut in again.
Another geriatric penis magically appeared in the margins.
"Odorless Pyth 17 doses
Pheromone Pyth only 3 doses
Dampen Sound Pyth 27
Sense Mana pyth 6"
"That one's too bad, maybe we can find more in Portheel," Chess observed.
"Green Light Pyth 11 doses
Purple Light Pyth 37
Sun Light Pyth 2
Mana body Pyth 9
SoftWood Pyth 31
Hardwood Pyth 12
Greenwood Pyth 54
Tannin Pyth 23
Sap Pyth 38 doses"
"I'm going to have to try those five in the next day or two," Chess murmured before continuing.
"Bark Skin Pyth 9
Insect repellent Pyth 32"
"Did you say insect repellent?" Stace squeaked.
"Uh, yeah? It might be nice. You can't tell me the little black flies haven't gotten you a few times already? The little bastards like to bite behind my ears," Chess grumbled and had to force herself not to scratch.
"No? Not that I've noticed. I hope they don't have ticks here. I hate ticks," Stace said with a visible shudder.
"Or mosquitoes," Gramps agreed. "Though there is very little standing water in this forest, or grasses for the ticks for that matter."
"Please Freya, if I could ask for one thing? No ticks," Chess begged the sky.
Gramps chuckled as he climbed up to place the first roof member. "Was that all?"
"Nearly. Last, but not least, we have thirteen doses of Neurotoxin Pyth," Chess said and summoned her vault again to replace the list in its box.
"That sounds like an interesting choice," Stace said thoughtfully.
“Our golem friend said rarer pyth have more effect on offered class abilities at the expense of often esoteric and hard-to-increase basic pyth effects. Things like water breathing might be better for your tattoos,” Gramps warned.
Stace shook her head. "Amber's right, I should wait until we find a pyth broker before deciding. I want to know if I can find a good ink source or see what these tribes use for tools."
“You’re both taking to this whole magic thing like ducks to water,” Chess observed and plopped herself down near her daughter again.
“I’ve been telling myself that it’s just another set of tools I need to learn. I'm finding it helpful to not focus on how or why it's possible. But to instead concentrate on what I can use it for, or how I can make things easier. Calm Mammal has been a…” Gramps cut himself off. "... it's been very helpful with the horses." He accepted the final roof board and slotted it into its groove with a thump of his fist and a soft rasping sound.
"Now for the door and we're nearly done!" Stace enthused, only for a very housecat-like yawn to overtake her.
"Then we get some beauty rest," Gramps agreed with a matching yawn as he bent to heft the ornate door Chess and Stace had created.
"Damn you both," Chess yawned and gently ran her hand down her daughter's hair. She frowned. Ashley lay tucked into her bedroll resting on a prodigious pile of old leaves. The Heliwrs were curled in small balls around her. Soft purring snorts punctuated the girl's and her pets' deep slumber.
"She's slept a lot today. We barely got her up for the walk over here," Chess murmured, her breath misting in the crisp night air.
"She is a cat," Stace observed from the back of the wagon where she helped Gramps set the door.
Chess rested her head back against the tree and rubbed Ashley's forehead as she nursed her reemerging headache. She had been using her wood manipulation every available second for the last twenty-four hours and the small bit to call her vault had tipped the scales again.
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
"You're reading too much into it. I think she probably feels safe for the first time in weeks, and her body is telling her to rest. Even your short stay with the muskrats required a lot of energy and focus. None of you has had any real time to rest," Gramps added his two cents. "Hand me the pins," he told Stace.
"We've killed people. A lot of people. I..." Chess shrugged and ran her fingers through her recently combed hair. "Fuck, I don't know. She was like this after her parents died. She practically executed that Kevin guy."
"Do you need to talk about it?" Gramps asked.
"Yes, no... I don't know. Mostly I feel bad that I don't feel in the least bit bad for what I've done." Chess let out a self-deprecating chuckle and looked over to Amber and Flemming's sleeping forms. "A little clichè... right? Do you know what's messed up? I feel much worse for killing the damn spiders than any of Graventy's bastards."
"Like when you took your first moose." Gramps nodded. "I remember you were a guilty mess then. Do you remember what I said?"
"That it will make me appreciate and cherish the meat more?"
"A little morbid when talking about killing men, but yeah, that too. I meant what I said about responsibility."
"Yeah, something like: 'The guilt is a product of your sense of responsibility for your actions,' or something. You know you have a million of these sayings. It's hard to keep track."
"Exactly. Now apply that to the situation with the men you killed."
Chess frowned but Stace answered first. "The responsibility for the fight that led to their deaths was on their heads. At least in large part. They were pretending to be bandits."
Gramps dipped his head again. "In earth's past, there wasn't much difference between soldiers and what you would see as bandits, and I suspect it's similar here. Now, that doesn't absolve you for your actions. It's only a tentative explanation for why you may feel the way you do. And It could just be that you don't feel bad for defending yourself."
Chess sighed. "Maybe I'm just jealous Ashley can sleep. I haven't been able to rest well in... I don't know how long. Though that may be because I keep forgetting to make myself something comfortable to sleep on. Today doesn't help, knowing you're going to be waking me up to work on the wagon every four hours. Speaking of which, my timer is up again."
"Good, we should be able to finish with the assembly. We'll leave the veneers until we're on our way," Gramps said, giving her a hand up.
"Yay sleep, soon." Stace clapped and hopped down off the side of the wagon to peer over Chess's shoulder as she got back to work.
"I think she likes my wood magic more than I do," Chess murmured ruefully to her grandfather.
"You and Amber did talk her into holding off on her own choices," Gramps stage whispered back.
"Hey! I'm right here," Stace protested.
"Point."
"You should elongate a few of the leaf springs this time around. And maybe add another layer," Gramps suggested.
"Yeah. I think I heard them creaking under the strain too. This wood is even heavier than it looks," Chess agreed and focused sleep-heavy eyes on finishing the work of the largely plain wagon. The details could wait until they were moving away from this part of the forest.