Armegon stirred the stew absently. Ultrecht was due in soon from his research at the University. Curled up on a thick bearskin rug, Marlena's son slept soundly. The boy had played hard all day long until it had started raining and Armegon had insisted the child come indoors. A hot cup of flavored milk and some warm rare beef had put the boy to sleep quickly. Armegon still had some concerns about the child's apparent fondness for barely cooked meat. The boys dental development did include large canines, but the other teeth were normal.
When it had come to giving the boy a name, Ultrecht had suggested "Spot." Armegon had adamantly refused that. He insisted that the boy would be called Sam. That had been some time ago when they had lived near the city. Then, Sam's deformities could be hidden or explained away, but the speed at which the boy grew and the features that developed as he matured began to raise fears among the neighbors, and Armegon was afraid for the boy's life. He knew he could protect the child, but not without using his magic and risking location. So they had moved.
Armegon had purchased a small but profitable horse ranch with what little money was left over from their journeys and his errands. The ranch made a minimal living, but Armegon was getting used to the lack of luxury. He had often reminded himself that that would change as soon as Ultrecht could determine how to use magic without attracting attention.
Armegon watched Sam sleep. The golden skinned youth was only a couple of years old and already had outgrown several wardrobes. Armegon had had to learn to sew to keep from going broke.
The boy's midnight hair had not been cut and was braided into a tail that hung down to his waist. The golden hue of Sam's skin made the boy's appearance quite comely if one didn't examine him too closely. The 'skin' was actually very fine hair so thick that it protected him from thorns and cold quite nicely. Sam's nails were slightly curled, but not so much as to suggest claws. Still they were strong enough to make the boy a natural tree climber.
The door of the cabin opened and Ultrecht stepped inside. Wordlessly he removed his outer garments and hung them up to dry. "I hope the stew’s hot," he said as he approached the fireplace.
"It took you long enough," Armegon whispered, nodding to the sleeping boy.
"The rain," Ultrecht explained. He eyed Sam. "How long’s he been sleeping?"
"About two hours," Armegon said as he dipped a bowl of the steaming broth. He passed the bowl to Ultrecht.
Ultrecht took the meal and sat on the floor with his feet close to the hearth and his back propped up against a large chair. "It looks as if he’s grown another inch of two."
"No kidding," Armegon echoed sarcastically. "He grows like a weed." Armegon produced a mug and a bottle. "Wine?"
"Please," Ultrecht said taking the cup. "How’s school?"
Armegon sighed. He had been trying to teach Sam in his spare time, but it had not proven well. "He has good spatial conceptions, but he doesn't seem to be able to grasp certain temporal concepts. He can remember the past, but he can't plan for the future. He reads very little and with great difficulty but he’s getting better with mathematics."
"And physically?"
"Physically the boy could wind up being the ideal athlete."
"Socially?"
"Totally uneducated. I’m afraid to take him into town until he gets older." Armegon paused. "Or until I can protect him."
"Well now that you mention it," Ultrecht said draining his bowl and passing it back for a refill. "I think I’ve solved that problem, at least in your case anyway."
"Oh?"
"Yes. You see, it’s all in the power source. I wasn't sure at first, but now I am. You can start using magic as soon as you want so long as you do two things."
"And they are?"
"First of all you have to vocalize you spells with a slight variation. I have it all written down here." Ultrecht passed a scroll tube to Armegon.
"And second?"
"Don't lose your temper." Ultrecht smiled. "You do those two things and no warlock in the world will be able to distinguish between you and anyone else. The new preambles in that scroll will harmonize your magic with the type taught in the local universities. But if you--as Seymore puts it—‘blow your stack’, you’re going to ring out like a cathedral bell at a knitting contest."
"What about you?"
"I’m going to take a little more work." Ultrecht took a sip of wine. "My power tap is completely external and extraplanar. No other elementalists exist in this world so when I exercise that ability I draw attention even more than you do."
"How will you cope?"
"Would you believe I’m apprenticing to a wizard?"
Armegon's mouth dropped open. "Isn't that a little like a millionaire apprenticing to a beggar?"
"Yes, but that way I can use basic spells to do minor feats without drawing attention. I actually registered myself as a journeyman. That way if I get caught using major spells, I won't blow my own cover. I told my master that I was new to the area and wanted to study under him to learn other forms of magic. In exchange I’ll teach him some basic elementalist concepts. I think that given enough time, elementalism will spread sufficiently that I won’t be such an oddity and won’t draw attention. It’s long term planning, but we have to start somewhere."
A mewing sound from the sleeping boy attracted their attention and they watched as Sam roused from his slumber. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Hello, Uncle Ultrecht,” the high tenor voice said.
"Hello, Sam," Ultrecht replied with a smile. "Why don't you come over here in the light so that I can take a look at you?" Sam stood and trotted over on bare feet skidding to a halt by Armegon's chair. He was thin but even in his extreme youth his whip-like body hinted at muscles awaiting the magic of puberty to fill out like a garden of flowers.
Ultrecht made a show of inspecting the boy critically, but the glowing smile on the child's round face dashed that act totally. "Well how’d you like to see what I’ve brought you from the city," Ultrecht asked.
The youth skipped over and sat on the floor next to Ultrecht. Ultrecht gazed into the adoring eyes of his foster nephew. In the half light of the dark cabin the vertical pupils were almost fully dilated and appeared quite normal.
Ultrecht reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out a cylinder wrapped in leather. Slowly he unwrapped the gift to reveal a metal tube made of hard steel with silver etchings.
Sam took it in hand and marveled at the gift. "What is it for?"
"Well first of all you find a stout piece of oak and strip it of it's bark and dry it out. Then you heat this," Ultrecht indicated the metal, "and when it glows red you put it on the heavy end of your staff. When it cools you’ll have a good weapon with which to train. It's weight will simulate a sword and it can knock sense into a charging boar if need be."
Sam took his gift and walked off into the darkness of the back of the cabin without another word. Dreams of himself as a mighty warrior playing into his imagination.
"What else does it do," Armegon asked.
"What makes you think it has other uses?"
Armegon ladled more stew into his own bowl. "I saw some of those runes."
Ultrecht grinned. "It’ll pinpoint his location to someone who can use magic from our world, for one."
"And?"
"And it can receive any enchantment you see fit to place in it."
Armegon nodded. "Thank you."
"Not required," Ultrecht reminded him. "I’m in this with you till the end." He knew that he had not needed to say it, but he had done so anyway. Armegon and he had decided on this before the others had left. Armegon had known when the child was born that it could not cross the dimensions. It could not afford the energy drain involved. He also knew that he could not simply abandon Sam to this world's mercies, so he had hidden Sam from Marlena. He had fully intended to stay behind from the moment he had delivered the boy. Ultrecht was driven more by vengeance and a desire to find out why Tyson had betrayed them.
"Fatherhood seems to agree with you," Ultrecht said after a moment.
"Necessity’s the mother of change as well as invention," Armegon commented dryly. After another moment, Armegon spoke again. "What’s the political news?"
Ultrecht laughed. "The king outsmarted Blackheart and his lackeys. Instead of calling the army to the rescue, he besieged Aspberg and Freon both."
"So the war’s over before it even starts?"
"I don't think so," Ultrecht shook his head. "This Blackheart’s after something. And I think it’s something big. So big in fact that he risks war as a diversion."
"What’re you on to?" Armegon knew Ultrecht had some inside information.
"Just a few stories, you understand, but word has it that Blackheart has allied with House Cadaver in Freon and with the Ice Kingdom as well. But that isn't all. There’re a lot of devils and demons showing up in the ranks of Blackheart's forces."
“Devils and demons?” Armegon asked with some alarm.
“They seem to be under a geas or some other form of control, so I’m not too worried about that now. They aren’t running around free.” He sighed in resignation. “I’m not sure, but we might have to work our way around the Dukes of Hell or the Demon Princes sooner or later.”
"And Tyson?"
Ultrecht nodded. "I think I can find him. I’ve made the acquaintance of a warlock named Mestys. A rather nice young lady, not at all like the one we fought." Ultrecht stretched and sat in the chair. "She’s sensed Tyson's magic and she’s going to help me get to him."
"Can she be trusted?"
Ultrecht laughed. "Absolutely. She has the same kind of aura Avery had."
"Really?" Armegon was taken aback. "I was under the impression that warlocks were a nasty lot altogether."
"Not at all," Ultrecht corrected. "That’s just because your first impression was formed in a negative environment. It seems that they’re just like any other profession--some good, and some bad."
"So what’ll you do now?"
Ultrecht leaned back in the chair and pulled a pipe from a pocket inside his tunic. He absently stuffed it with tobacco. "Well I thought I’d spend the night here, and move on tomorrow. I need to go to Seron. Remember Seron? That’s where all this started."
"I remember all too well," Armegon said as he piled the eating utensils in a bucket and carried them off into the darkness. A moment later there was the sound of water being poured.
"So what’ll you do there," Armegon asked as he reappeared in the dim firelight. He sat in the other chair and pulled his own pipe from a table at his side.
"I’m going to meet with Mestys there," Ultrecht said between puffs. "Tyson believes he’s the only one of us left in this world so he won’t be expecting us. Also if he’s not hiding from anyone there isn’t any reason for him to try to adapt his magic as we have. It won't be long before he uses magic again. When he does I can get another bearing on him and close in a bit more."
"And when you find him?"
"I'll ask him what he’s up to," Ultrecht grinned mischievously. "Right before I take him apart molecule from molecule."
"And our friend, Quickdraw?"
Ultrecht blew a big ring of smoke. "Mestys has identified him as one Morteous Blackheart. Apparently a half brother to Blackpuss himself. Yes, I can deal with him as well. Especially since our powers have returned to their full strength."
"Be careful," Armegon warned. "We’re not as widely known and feared here as we were back home. We won a great deal of our encounters on reputation back home. That won't happen here."
"Then we’d better start making a reputation worth fearing," Ultrecht stated.
"We also didn’t have to contend with gods back home either," Armegon pointed out. "And we haven’t sampled their powers here yet."
Ultrecht considered this for a moment. "Maybe we should, then."
Armegon paused in his puffing and looked hard at Ultrecht. "Hey," he said with a hint of a smile, "I’m supposed to be the arrogant one."
"Well get on the ball then," Ultrecht said. "I’m getting tired of taking up the slack for you."
Armegon smiled and finished his pipe. "I can't," he said. "Not right now."
Ultrecht nodded. He understood that Sam was a responsibility that had to be seen through and Armegon could not--would not risk a confrontation that might leave Sam orphaned.
"So you’re going to sit here magicless and wither from boredom until that boy’s mature enough to leave on his own?"
Armegon smiled at the question. "Isn't that what parenthood’s all about," he replied.
Ultrecht's face became very serious. "You’re changing too much, I think. You need to get out of here. Take Sam on a trip."
"A trip," Armegon laughed. "With half the planet up in arms? Where could we go that would be safe?"
"How about north," Ultrecht suggested. "A quiet pilgrimage to Tycho. Look up that dwarf innkeeper. Regalus was his name. That area was very nice and the people were friendly."
"What about money," Armegon said. "I doubt we could get rooms on our good looks."
"You scrooge!" Ultrecht emptied his pipe and returned it to his pocket. "I know you have a stash around here somewhere."
"That’ll go to hiring a caretaker for this ranch while I’m away," Armegon replied.
Ultrecht pouted for a moment. He knew where this was leading. "I don't suppose you would consider selling the ranch?"
"Out of the question."
"Then stay here and rot," Ultrecht submitted.
"Of course if someone was to advance me some funds on a semi-permanent loan..."
"Thief!"
"Keeneye went home," Armegon reminded him.
"Stalemate," Ultrecht proclaimed. "You admit that you need to expose the kid and yourself to the world, but you won't sacrifice your home to do it."
"I suppose that’s essentially correct."
"Well then if I must pay for your vacation, then you’ll have to wait until I can raise the cash."
Armegon eyed his companion critically. "Are you saying that you, Mr. Moneybags, is shy on the coin?"
"Until I can disguise my magic, I can't make any real money," Ultrecht informed him.
Armegon leaned back in his chair. "If only they could see us now," he laughed.
"Who?"
"Samson, Marlena, Keeneye, Norwind, and the others," Armegon answered. "Ultrecht and Armegon both penniless. They’d get a real charge out of that."
"It’s only a matter of time," Ultrecht said. "We did it before, we'll do it again."
"No doubt, but this time we’ll be short one pair of hands."
Ultrecht nodded. "I know. I miss Avery too. If nothing else, we could always depend on him to watch our backs and share some food when times were rough.”
Armegon smiled. “Did you ever pay him or give him any money?”
Ultrecht looked thoughtful. “No. He never really took much of a cut when we made some money. He always took enough to fill a pocket and said that it was all he needed.”
“But he always had plenty. I wonder how he got it?”
“You think he had a large hoard somewhere?”
“Avery? Nah. He probably just had that kind of luck where he fell into money whenever he needed it.”
Ultrecht chuckled quietly. "We should all have been so lucky."
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