“Sure, girlfriends, boyfriends, lovers. It's generally considered a bad idea to have more than six of each. Really it gets too hard to manage past about three in my experience. It can be done though. But if you’re going to really go into it, you need to start keeping a schedule and have your calendar in order. Proper planning is key.” She paused, her voice sounding like a smile touched her face.
“You have a bunch of girlfriends though, don't you? I don't know about lovers…”
He did? News to him. Who? Petra? Yeah, she'd count. Ursala? Maybe.
Rolph tapped his shoulder and asked who he was sleeping with rather bluntly. Tor shook his head no. Not that his friend couldn't know, but wouldn't it be indiscreet to go blabbing it all around? Apparently it was a moot point because Trice filled them all in pretty accurately.
“Petra Ward, Collette Coltress and her sister Bonita who's really sweet, Countess Thorgood. I think that's it so far…”
Sara cleared her throat.
“Well…”
Everyone giggled and played for a while as Tor drove over to Tovey's house, Wensa, bless her, calling out the needed turns well in advance. Otherwise they would have gotten lost a dozen times. Then she said something really loud.
Tor missed the meaning the first time Wensa yelled it.
“Go to ground!” He stopped and everyone piled out fast, not knowing what was going on Tor waited for the vehicle to clear and turned it off.
People were staring off into the distance and a sound, like thunder came from some funny looking dots in the sky. Triangles. Five of them. They tore across the sky as fast as his eyes could follow. Kolb had said they were quick, but Tor had thought his flying rigs were at least close, half as good maybe, but no worse than that.
He was wrong.
So much so Tor couldn't believe it at first. These things ripped across the heavens sounding like they were tearing it in two, behind them they left white lines of smoke or something. Strips of cloud?
Before he could do more than stare like a moron the King’s palace exploded. Streamers of smoke hit it and it turned to light and fire, with smoke in a dozen shades of gray. Did they have the shield up? Please let them have the shield up.
He chanted it almost like a talisman. What could he do? How could he fight those things? Men flew, pointing force lances and probably explosive weapons but nothing happened. The Austran craft were too fast and too far away to hit. Even the best marksman couldn't hit them from here. They needed a really big weapon. There was one that would work… but that one was in the palace, if the building was still there at all, around the neck of Squire Gerald, who, if he was inside the shield couldn't use it to fight, even if he did anything other than hide or run away.
They could run…
“Wensa, Not-flyers! Get them to safety… try Wildlands Station. I'll… I'll… try to stop them here…”
He needed a place where the view wouldn't be obstructed and searched the skyline for anything that might work. Using his flying rig to loft to the top of the clock tower, easily fifty feet up, Tor found a ledge and sat on it cross legged, closing his eyes. He knew the field, but didn't have time to build a device.
It had to be direct effect.
It was insane to think of doing it, but there was no time to debate the idea. The field had to be huge, and strong, and it had to work now. It could rip him apart, but that was what it was, right? Everybody died sometime. He’d just have to make sure he finished it first. Otherwise he’d be dying for nothing.
He closed his eyes, knowing what he was going to do and then focused. Going deep, into the bottom of himself, for a while the whole world was nothing. Then he just knew it was done. However long it had taken. That he was still alive was interesting.
Not that he’d complain.
When he opened his eyes the world was nearly silent, bits of smoke from four places in the sky trailed down to the ground and the last one flew away at what seemed like full speed, after half a minute, cheering started. He sat with his left hand held palm down in front of him, pointed at the sky, taking in the noise for a while.
When he got back to the ground everyone was still standing there, even Wensa. The magic case that looked like a trunk, but wasn't there, had followed him the whole time. It really was convenient, he thought as he checked what people had and then passed out the new shields and flying rigs to Wensa's companion, who didn't have one, but could use it. Wensa already had the newest stuff. He hadn’t given it to her, but she pulled it out to show him. She’d probably taken it from his room.
We’ll whatever. Tor decided not to worry over it and just nodded.
He didn't have to yell “to the palace” or anything stupid like that, everyone else already leaving for it. Every person in the city that could fly was already up in the air and moving towards it as fast as they could go and hundreds zipped in using Not-flyers, more running on foot. He flew hard, a snail’s pace that didn't make them equal in the air at all to Austra. The palace was on fire.
At least the smoke made it looked like that. The buildings around it were gone, all those poor people too. Fires burned all over the place a complete and even circle around the shield. Which was still up. Right… they didn't know the Austran craft were gone. He didn't really know that either, they could have more, couldn't they? They'd have to signal the palace staff somehow when it was safe. For now it was better they didn't try to come out, because the fire could catch if it wasn't damped first. They could lose the city at this rate.
Flying towards his house Tor thought about what he had at the moment. Water pumps that could reach up to ten miles and a nicely flowing river. It was a start. Air chokes too. He ran to his room and grabbed the stone plates and amulets. Reeling a bit at the door, suddenly dizzy. Awkward to hold in the hand, the pumping devices, since they weren't meant for that, but they'd serve. It was all he had.
He ran carrying all of them in a floating trunk outside. People called to him but he didn't understand them. Tor felt exhausted, more than he could handle, but the fire had to be fought, no lying down and napping now.
Slowly, fighting for each move, he laid the devices on the river bank and started passing the other end to anyone with flying gear. If he knew them, it didn't register. Not until Nita came up to get one too.
“Hey. I… we've a stop, fire in… go.. right.” He thought the words were correct. They sounded like the ones he wanted. In a strange way at least. She pushed him down, tumbling with him. Why would she do that? Was she mad at him? Or… did he fall? How odd.
Well, he probably should have found her earlier. They were friends and she was a shy girl in a new place. It had really been rude of him not to consider her feelings first. Someone else was calling orders and people did what they said. Petra. That was right, she'd fought fires with this kind of gear before, with Karen and him in Ross, so she could tell them what to do. Good. He needed to sleep anyway.
But he couldn't. Fire. He tried to stand up, but since the sitting part didn't work, that seemed pretty ambitious at the moment. Even out of it he could tell he was mainly just kind of flopping around a bit. Nita was saying something. It didn't sound right though, warped and wobbly somehow.
“You're hurt. Stay still. Sleep or… I don't know. Stay with me. I won't leave you. I'll stay until you don't need me.” The tone, the cadence, it was all really off. She could stay. That would be good. Tor had to fight that fire or people would be hurt though. He must have said that out loud, because she shushed him and started telling him what was going on, talking softly like she did. Barely audible. He liked her. She was nice, and fun.
That's where he'd had fun. He remembered now. Spending time with her, doing stuff in Warden. See Rolph, Tor thought, he could have a good time, and did. Hmph.