Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to Tamora Pierce
A/N: Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter.
Mouze8Cheeze: Thank you so much for the praise. Those were high compliments. I will put news of my book on my registry as long as the fanfic people are cool with it.
Bibliopheliac: Thanks. Most of us felt that about Weiryn.
I Love Escapist Fantasy: Love your name by the way. Weiryn has his good points too, but I think most of wonder where the hell he was all of Daine's life.
Kit49: LOL. He is a man. He certainly thinks about sex. The only ones that don't aren't breathing.
Sunfish Sailor: I figured he saw their exchange in EM, which was very loving.
Ethalas Tuath'an: I know what it's like to be too busy to pay attention to your in-box. Don't apologize. I know you'll read when you can.
Hoshi-ko88: Thanks
Bitterosemary: Thank you so much. You are very, very good at compliments. I think that badger's loyalties are only with Daine. He loves her like his child. He did better by her than her own father. And badgers are like wolverines in that they aren't very social even with one another. Porter is not Perin's last name by cannon. I gave it to him. Like Draper, Taylor, and Cooper, it is a commoner name to indicate what his father's family might have done. It didn't seem a far stretch to make the son of a Porter into a clerk. And the P.P. initials make it seem to smooth to not be true, but no, the books never give him a sir name.
CocoaFlavourPunk: I'm so honored to get a review from someone who never reviews. And yes, this is a second chapter for today, although I'm not sure if it's still night where you are. I notice the spelling of flavour, which says we aren't in the same country.
Purple Eyed Cat: You'll have to wait and see about the respect. You won't be disappointed.
Silverlake: Thanks. They can be read side by side. I'm using the book to direct the timeline so I don't screw up. The dialogue is the same except where I add stuff.
Sarramaks: It's interesting how you relate to this personally. I had a father all my life, but he wasn't that great. Mine is a bit more like Numair's though abusive. And still I love him. Like Numair, I spent my first 20 years of life trying to earn his love. Then one day I just stopped.
Alanna Cooper: Thanks
Narms Briton 44: You caught another mistake. I was thinking that the stormwings had human heads, chests, and arms. So that's why I had that in there. When you wrote what you did, I went back and checked the books and then corrected the chapter. As far as the description, it is probably unnecessary. But since this is practice for writing my own book, I write each one to stand on its own, the way a publisher would require. It's boring to fans like you, but is good practice for me.
Nativewildmage: Thanks
Goldeneyedwildmage: Indeed I do like bows. Thanks!
Chapter 14 – Preparations
They were seated at the table very much in the fashion they had been the night before with the exception that Rikash had been positioned downwind so his odor would not spoil their meal. Otherwise most of the diners were the same, except Gainel, who was not present. Numair noticed that a pitcher of fruit juice had been placed on the table in addition to the pitcher of wine.
Lunch progressed in a friendly manner without any hint of the earlier argument between Numair and Weiryn. Numair had, himself, been amazed by some of the things he had said. He had often been very brutal in his arguments with himself, accusing himself of much worse than Weiryn did. It was interesting that, in defending himself, he had convinced himself that he was worthy of Daine. Hope was doing a tap-dance in his heart again and the nearness of her was beguiling.
Numair reached for his glass of juice, trying to remind himself to breathe normally. And there, reflected on the surface of the liquid was a picture of Raoul of Goldenlake facing a foe that made the large man look tiny. He had driven a spear into the knee of a giant. The enormous monster swatted him like a fly, knocking him back a distance of nearly 20 feet while it roared in pain. The vision evaporated before he could bring it to anyone's attention. He called up the image again and set the glass in front of Weiryn.
"Has anyone thought of a way that we can go home?" Numair asked. He knew it was not a good subject for maintaining a friendship with Weiryn, but he doubted very much if Raoul would live through that fight.
Weiryn's eyes narrowed. "There is none," he growled. "The Great Gods are speaking to no one as long as Uusoae fights them."
He heard Daine sigh heavily. She was moving the food around on her plate with her fork. "What about the animal gods? I came here last fall, while I was in Carthak. You took me back to the mortal realms then, Badger." Numair reached for Daine's hand under the table and squeezed it briefly. It was both a show of solidarity and a comforting move to him as she reminded them all of a time that was painful to him. She smiled at him.
"Not possible," replied the great animal. "You were dead then. All I had to do was put you back into your mortal body. With both of you still alive, not all of the animal gods together could move you between the realms."
"You are far better off here with your mother," said Weiryn. "If you insist on leaving then wait until the fall equinox, when the gates open for the likes of us and you. And there's one of those things again!" he cried as a dark, liquid looking creature oozed onto the table from Daine's other side. Numair stared at it, wondering if this was the creature that had so resembled a clothes pin and had escaped from Sarra's apron pocket.
"Leave it be, Da," Daine said protectively. "It's not hurting anyone." Numair couldn't help but grin to himself. This had to be the creature she was feeding the night before.
The thing began to change shape liquidly. Its form stretched and reshaped until it was very clearly a dragon. But it wasn't a young dragon like Kitten. This representation had clearly defined, mature wings.
"Dragons," Rikash said. "This creature is right, whatever it is. They might very well take you back. You have been looking after their young one."
"You mean for my daughter to journey to the Dragonlands? Absolutely not," Weiryn snapped. It's too risky." He turned to Numair and glared again as if it were some kind of conspiracy.
At a thought that he hadn't actually realized he'd formed, an image of Kitten formed in Numair's fruit juice. She was hiding under a catapult base, while mage fire seemed to come from all sides. He covered the glass so that Daine wouldn't see. But it had strengthened his resolve. No matter what, he was going to find a way back to help. He was anxious now about Kit's welfare.
"They might refuse to help," Queenclaw was saying. "I never met a dragon that wasn't perverse – they're worse than we cats. Even the Great Gods can't force a dragon to do anything it doesn't wish to."
"I'm almost positive they will do it," said Rikash. "Don't forget, we Stormwings know them best – our eyries border on the Dragonlands. They are proud. One or two of Skysong's kin will feel they must repay you for what you've done, and one is all you need to go home." He looked at Numair and grinned in that lascivious way that only Rikash could do. "Well, it may take two. There's so much extra of one of you."
Daine smiled, sharing the joke at Numair's expense. "How do we find them?" she asked.
The Stormwing looked at Weiryn, "I'm sure a map can be drawn – unless you plan to cage them?" Nice touch Numair thought, echoing the badger's remark to him, albeit silently.
"Da, Ma, please listen," pleaded Daine. "Humans and People need us. I've friends that would risk their lives for me and Numair. If you won't help us, then we'll muddle along on our own – but we can't just sit here, seeing them in visions, and laze about." Numair reached for her hand and squeezed it a second time.
Weiryn sighed and rubbed his antlers. "No – no, I won't cage them."
"Not even a day I've had to talk to you," Sarra said, drawing his gaze. There were tears on her cheeks and she wiped them. "But I know you can't sit idly by when them that you care for are in trouble."
"Lord Rikash," Queenclaw interjected, "they will need help to cross the Sea of Sand."
Rikash sidled, digging into his perch with steel claws. "I will see what can be done. It will take persuasion." He looked from Daine to Numair, frowning. "Be careful," he told them. "The Divine realms are perilous. Maybe Queen Barzha is right and I am getting sentimental, but I would hate to see anything happen to either of you." He gave them each a wink and jumped into the air, taking flight and blowing waves of stench over the table.
"Forget sentimentality," the badger grumbled. "I'd like to see him lose that smell."
"And from a badger, that's saying a great deal," quipped Queenclaw. Numair stifled the urge to laugh.
"I will go with them," said Broad Foot. Everybody stared at him. Numair couldn't imagine why he was being so kind. For the second time, he wondered if helpfulness was a trait of his kind or if Broad Foot had just taken to them for some reason. "I can't transport them, but I can act as guide and protector. The three of us should manage."
"The four of us," the badger corrected. "I will come as well. I haven't put so much time into looking after this young one to stop now."
Numair looked at Sarra, who was still crying silently, and then at Weiryn. It was a shame to take Daine from them so soon. "Lord Weiryn," Numair asked, "will you and Sarra come with us?"
Daine's mother smiled wistfully. "As a new goddess, I'm bound to Weiryn's lands for a century."
"As am I, for requesting her admittance here," added Weiryn. "You will do well with the badger and Broad Foot."
"If we're to leave today, I'd best get a little extra hunting done," commented the duckmole, who vanished promptly.
"I will join you tomorrow morning," the badger said. "There are a few things to deal with at my sett before I go." He also vanished.
"Ma, Da," Daine began, "are there horses we might trade for, or buy? We'd go faster than afoot."
"No, dear one," Sarra replied, "Every horse in the Divine Realms belongs to itself, or its herd. They do not serve anyone." She rose. "I'd best pack your things – No, Daine, I don't need your help. You'd only be in my way." Numair wondered if she didn't also want the chance to cry in solitude.
"Besides," added Weiryn, who also stood, "I need you both to come with me."
"What about making horses?" Numair asked. "Could you –"
"No," Weiryn said flatly. "Any being created in the Divine Realms belongs to itself and serves no one else. You would be lucky if such a horse only dumped you in the dirt. It might take you for a ride that would last a century of mortal time."
In the main room, he opened a door that they had never seen before. This was not the library room, but a small, dark chamber that was more like a shed than a room. There were woodcarver's tools, staffs, boxes of feathers, boxes of arrowheads, coiled strings, and completed bows.
Weiryn ran long brown fingers over the finished weapons, checking the feel, rejecting this one, and that. "These are my gifts to those I favor." He selected an ebony-colored bow with nearly white nocks over both tips. "And if my own daughter isn't one I favor, who is?" He laid the stave across his palms, and offered it to Daine.
She took it, studying it. Weiryn offered a string and Daine strung it in a flash. "She's sweet, Da," she told him, smiling.
The god offered her a quiver full of arrows. "I should have given you a proper bow long before this," he told her, wrapping extra strings in a square of oiled cloth.
Handing that to Daine, he went to the staffs in the corner. "Here, mage." Numair chuckled to himself that Weiryn was back to referring to him as "mage". Weiryn selected a staff that was six feet of thick, knotted wood. About to hand it over, he frowned. "A moment." He looked at Numair, then cupped the top of the staff in one hand. White fire shone from his palm; when he drew it away, a fist sized crystal knob sat on top of the staff, embedded in the wood. He gave the staff to Numair, who took it and stood for a moment, one hand wrapped around the wood, the other around the crystal. He tested it with his magic, reveling in the powerful amplification it offered. The staff itself was both a weapon and a fine walking stick. The wood offered some amplification as well. He looked at Weiryn with respect. Even if the God didn't like him, he seemed to recognize that Numair would be watching out for his daughter. "Thank you. I've never had something that was so – attuned -- to me."
Weiryn scowled and went to a wooden counter along one wall. "Come here, both of you." An inkpot and brush appeared on the surface next to him. The god wet the brush, and began to paint symbols directly onto the wood. "Here we are," he said, tapping the brush against a painted square. "Here's the stream and the pond where Broad Foot stays. And this is the path you must follow."
Numair could see trees and streams appear momentarily, turning back to symbols or dots in a heartbeat. This was much better than the cartography kit he had given Daine. He wondered if he might someday be able to spell ink do work this well.
"If you walk steadily, you will spend the night beside Temptation Lake," Weiryn informed them, drawing that body of water close to the trail. "Do not drink from it – unless you desire to be tempted of course."
A vision of Numair reclining among three naked, lovely women who fed him grapes, or rubbed his feet, or finger-combed his hair, filled the air over the counter. The three women were all past lovers. It was a last shot from the earlier argument and it was very effective. Numair blushed deeply.
"Not funny, Da," Daine said dryly.
"Neither of us is in the mood for temptation, Lord Weiryn," Numair said quietly, hoping that Daine had not recognized any of the women.
"Hmpf," snorted the god. It was amazing how much Weiryn could say in one guttural sound. "Well, just don't drink the water there. It's a good place to stop – no dweller of the Divine Realms may harm another within a league of Temptation Lake." He rewet his brush and continued to draw. "The trail will carry you to Long Drop Gorge, which you will cross on the First Bridge." Briefly they glimpsed a wood-and-rope bridge in the air over the counter, like the bridges that filled the mountains of Tortall and Galla.
Weiryn continued the line of the path for an inch or two, then stopped to create a blurred area around it. "This is Mauler's Swamp." The vision in the air over the map showed a pair of yellow, slit pupiled eyes sticking out of murky water. They moved. A ripple of passing square ridges like those on a crocodile's back cut through the image of water, followed by the snakeline curing of a long tail. "Give no offense to Mauler, if you can avoid it."
"Here is the Stonemaze." The vision was one of rocky canyons and a distant, small river, as seen from high overhead. "Watch your footing, never leave the path in the maze, and harm no stones.
"Lord Weiryn," Numair said, "it would help if you were to explain what will happen if we make a mistake in these places."
Weiryn looked at him, green eyes glinting dangerously. "Who can tell?" he asked. "The gods in most places never punish a trespass in the same manner twice. Mauler once ate the mortals who disturbed his afternoon nap, but that was a while ago. He may not choose to eat the next intruder. Of course, he may have young to share his swamp, and they always need a meal. Just use caution. Cut no green wood. Take no fruits without asking the bush or tree. If you don't, you might spend a century with wild pigs trying to dig you up by the roots. Blackberries in particular have a nasty streak."
"Wonderful," Daine whispered sarcastically.
"Where was I?" asked her father. He rewet his brush, and sketched another blurred area on the wood. "Oh, yes. At last you will come to the Sea of Sand." The vision revealed dunes; for a moment, Numair's face was hot and painfully dry. "If the Stormwing can't find help, the winds will strip your body of moisture in the time it takes your mother's pan bread to bake. Don't you see what folly this is?" he demanded, eyes on Daine. "The Divine Realms are too dangerous for a pair of mortals.
"We will have Broad Foot, and the badger," Numair said. "And we have protected ourselves from time to time. Mortals have survived in the Divine Realms before." He quickly reviewed in his mind every spell he knew to seal their skin against dehydration.
Weiryn sighed. "That's what I thought you would say." His brush and ink pot disappeared. Palms down, he tapped the inked surface of the wood. "At least I can tell Sarra that I tried." Numair smiled at his softly. He understood. Like bark that was barely attached to its parent tree, the surface with the map cracked away from the wood, thinned until it could have been heavy parchment, and rolled itself up. Weiryn gave it to Numair. "You need not fear that it will go to pieces, or that water will smear the marks," he said grumpily.
Daine leaned over and kissed the god's forehead. "Thanks, Da.
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