The God-Stone War

Chapter 11

After I left Marc, I went to see James. The King had been understandably worried about me after the assassination attempt at the palace; in part because we were family, and in part because without me the foundation of his rule would be considerably more uncertain. That wasn’t fair, I chided myself. The man helped raise you, don’t let politics cloud your opinions.

The palace guard was noticeably more formal. The events of a week past had shaken everyone, and new measures were being taken to ensure that there were no more secret assassins among them. New scrutiny had been placed upon them, especially those who had taken service in the last two years, but so far nothing had come of it.

“I’m glad to see that you’ve recovered,” said James, after I had been ushered in to see him.

I looked down, surveying myself deliberately. “I still seem to have all my fingers and toes, Your Majesty. How have you been?”

James grunted, “Ha! I hurt myself worse than the assassin managed; bruised my leg kicking a chair out of the way.”

I chuckled, “It’s the small things like that, that you never hear about in romances and adventure stories.”

“Everyone is younger in those tales. Men at my age aren’t supposed to be assaulting furniture and fighting assassins,” James suggested.

“You are hardly old yet,” I countered. James was in his middle fifties now and still fairly robust.

“Easy for you to say,” James replied. “How is Walter doing?”

“Still recovering, but I think he will be fine,” I answered.

The King smiled. “Nicholas was quite taken with Elaine, but now he speaks of nothing but your wife. He’s been calling her his ‘angel of deliverance’. Poor Barnabas is probably mortified knowing that a woman saved them both.”

“He acted bravely, throwing himself in front of that sword. He had nothing to be ashamed of,” I responded immediately.

“Some men have a different view of chivalry.”

“He’ll have to get over it.” Otherwise I’ll tell Penny, and let her knock some sense into him.

“Don’t misunderstand;” said James, “He’s not a lout. He’s grateful… just a bit embarrassed.”

“Speaking of which… I should apologize to Nicholas for my words. I had not meant to argue with him. I think I was just a bit oversensitive about the topic.”

“He’s leaving tomorrow. I was thinking of offering your services transporting him and his men back to Lancaster, to shorten his journey…,” James suggested.

“Castle Cameron,” I corrected. “He can spend an evening with us, and perhaps I can win him over with our hospitality.”

“Even better,” said James.

“You vanish like a stray cat, and then when you reappear, this is what you bring me?” Penny was a bit annoyed with my disappearing act. By ‘this’ she was referring to my announcement that the King of Gododdin would be spending an evening with us.

“Are you comparing King Nicholas to a dead bird or lizard?” I said, extending her analogy a bit further.

She ignored my clever remark. “Do you know how much needs to be done before we can host royalty here?”

In fact I had a good idea, but I pretended ignorance. “Just wave your hands my dear, and the entire castle will be leaping to do your bidding.”

“Good luck with the children,” Penny replied with a wry smile.

“Wait, what?”

“If I’m to organize this place for a royal visit, I won’t have time to manage them this afternoon.”

“But I need to check on the progress at…,” I started.

“It can wait another day,” she interrupted.

“Where is Lilly?” I asked. I hadn’t seen her yet. Normally she was at hand to help with the children.

Penny handed me little Irene. As usual her large blue eyes were focused on my beard, and grasping hands kept trying to pull it out. “Lilly has taken ill today. You’ll be on your own. Don’t worry though; I’ll stop in to feed her in a few hours.”

I was perfectly comfortable with our older children, and I had no fear of infants, but three plus Irene would be a handful for me. “Perhaps Rose is free…,” I suggested.

“She’ll be busy helping me. Perhaps Dorian will take pity on you.”

In the end, I elected to take on the chore without assistance, more as a matter of pride than for any other reason. We had effectively gotten through dealing with two infants at once years before, so I was well acquainted with the messier side of babies… and in fact with Moira and Matthew to assist in keeping an eye on Conall, I’d have plenty of attention to focus on little Irene.

That was the plan at least… until Dorian showed up with Gram in tow an hour later.

“Did you come to see the circus?” I asked him with a grin after opening the door.

He looked at me a bit sheepishly, “Actually, I came to ask a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Your wife has stolen Rose for her projects, and I need to start preparing the security measures for tomorrow if King Nicholas is really going to be staying with us…,” he glanced down his arm at his son and then back up at me.

The day was effectively over for me at that point. The twins were already bouncing with excitement, as Gram left his father and began chatting with them. In general, the addition of an extra child threw the balance out of whack, and I’d now have to keep an eye on Conall… the older children would ignore him.

My prediction was on the mark. The one bright side to Gram’s presence was that all three of the older children disappeared outside to play. Although our house was connected to Castle Cameron, its actual location was in a scenic mountain valley in the midst of the Elentirs, a place so remote I doubted anyone had ever been there before we built our secret home there. Conall stayed inside with me while I tended to Irene, and I had to admire his behavior, not many children were as easy to please at age three as he was.

After an hour or so, I managed to get Irene down for a nap, and that let me focus my attention more fully on Conall. I rarely had time alone with him, so I did my best to enjoy the time building things with him out of his extensive wooden block collection. The truth of the matter though, was that I was utterly bored. Thankfully, Conall didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm.

The peace was short lived. Matthew and Gram reappeared, followed closely by Moira. The three of them had encountered some utterly new form of lizard out in the meadow, and after many heroic attempts, had managed to capture it. They broke into the nursery with all the peace and serenity of an avalanche, shouting and waving their catch at me. Irene promptly awoke and began to cry.

I could feel a headache building between my ears, but it was hard to be sure with all the noise. I yelled, “Be quiet!” to give me a moment to see if it had been my imagination. Yep, I definitely had developed a headache. The three children stared at me in utter silence for a moment, while Conall stared intently at the lizard they had brought. After a few seconds they all began chattering again.

“Kyrtos,” I said abruptly, and silence fell across the room, as Matthew, Moira, and Gram discovered they could no longer speak. I picked up Irene and began rocking her in my arms while Conall took the lizard from Matthew’s unresisting fingers.

The three of them were staring at me while their mouths worked uselessly. I winked at them while I cooed at Irene, trying to soothe her. “There there…” I said softly, “that only happens to noisy children. You are far too cute for me to put a spell on.” Something was working; Irene had stopped crying now and was staring intently at me.

“T’ank you,” Conall told his older brother, as he stroked the lizard’s head.

After a minute I looked at them and felt a momentary pang of guilt. Moira had her fingers in her mouth, trying to discover the source of her vocal paralysis, while Gram sat sullenly in the corner staring at one of Conall’s toys. Matthew on the other hand, was looking straight at me, his blue eyes welling with tears. I had betrayed him.

“Keltis,” I said immediately. “Are the three of you ready to behave?” I asked, using a tone that hid my guilt feelings. I had learned long ago never to show weakness in front of the natives… they’d sense it and tear you to pieces if you did… or something like that.

Matthew was the first to nod a slow ‘yes’, and the look on his face made me want to hug him tightly and apologize, though I resisted the urge; Moira, in contrast, simply asked, “How did you do that?”

“Magic,” I said, giving the answer that usually was enough to finish most conversations. Today however, I was struck with an inspiration. “Which reminds me, I know a better spell that doesn’t make you silent, but which requires you to stay quiet for it to work,” I told them.

Matthew didn’t take the bait, but he might have realized I was attempting to win him back over. Moira’s face lit up with curiosity, though it was Gram that spoke first, “Better how?”

I grinned with enthusiasm. “It makes you as light as a feather, but only as long as you remain quiet. Would you like to try it?”

He gave me a suspicious look, but luckily Conall volunteered, “I want to!” The look on his face was positively angelic. I glanced at the other children to make sure I had their full attention, and then I place my hand on top of his head while I intoned a few words in Lycian. The spell was a simple one that I had used in several variations over the years. Its primary effect was to essentially reduce the overall mass of an object, and when I say mass, I mean mass, not just weight. Inertia and momentum both become smaller as mass decreases, effects that Dorian had complained about with his original lightweight, enchanted chainmail. I had later gone with a much more complicated system for the plate armors that I made for the Knights of Stone, but for what I intended today with my children, this was the perfect spell.

Removing my hand I looked at him carefully, “Do you feel different?”

Nodding, Conall stepped back and promptly bounced up several feet from the floor. His first response was to let out a ‘whoop’ of excitement and surprise, and as he did I silently adjusted the spell to make him heavier. Ordinarily, manipulating magic without using words required more energy, due to a loss of efficiency, and the same was true here. However, the amount of aythar required, relative to my own strength, was such that I could easily afford to do so without verbal language. It also kept the twins from realizing I was adjusting the effect deliberately.

“See there!? You were light as a feather until you let out that yell,” I observed intelligently. I could see understanding dawning on their faces, and I smiled inwardly. This will be the greatest silent game ever, I thought to myself.

Soon enough I had spelled each of them so that they were able to bounce about the room lightly, almost floating, as if they were no heavier than soap bubbles. At first I watched them closely, making them heavier if they spoke or got noisy before returning them to their near weightless state if they stayed silent for a while. Needless to say, my plan worked brilliantly, and soon they were all entirely quiet as they smiled and pushed off from floors and walls, flying effortlessly from one side of the room to the other.

Irene was giggling in my arms as she watched her siblings and Gram cartwheeling through the air. Since she seemed happy enough, I set her in her cradle to watch them, while I sat down in Penny’s rocking chair. I had forgotten how comfortable it could be, with its padded arms and seat.

At some point, before I realized it, I fell asleep. Dealing with young children took a bit of energy, and it was quite pleasant to doze as they played around me in the nursery. I had already warned them not to leave the room, and there seemed to be little harm they could do in their near weightless state. With my chin on my chest, I dozed and dreamt of sunny days and simpler times.

“What in the world!?” Penelope exclaimed loudly, startling me awake. My heart was racing at her sudden cry, and my eyes fought to focus on her as she stood in the doorway. A surge of adrenaline shot through me, and I saw her eyes focusing above me, where Matthew and Moira were sailing over my head, holding little Irene between them.

“Momma!” cried Moira excitedly, and then she lost her grip on her younger sister, causing Matthew and Irene to tumble awkwardly while Moira sailed off in another direction. Irene still had her full weight, and though her brother struggled gallantly he lost his grip on her as well.

Looking upward in shock and surprise, I caught my giggling infant daughter as she fell. It was a catch born of pure reflex and parental good fortune, for I was utterly unprepared. My face was a study in bewilderment as I met Penny’s gaze. “I can explain,” I stuttered out immediately.

As it turned out, my explanation was rather unimpressive, or at least that was my impression based upon Penny’s disapproving stare. It didn’t help that the children were still bounding up and down around us while we talked. With a wave of my hand, I canceled the spell on them.

A unanimous cry of, “Awwww,” went up around the room.

“Go play outside,” Penny told them, ignoring their dispirited tones, “and take Conall with you.” We watched them troop out of the room, and after they had closed the door she looked back at me. “I can’t believe you.”

“I didn’t intend to fall asleep…,” I began, but she interrupted me almost immediately.

“This isn’t about that Mort. We’re both human. How many near misses do you think I’ve had? I’m not immune to fatigue either. This is about your promise not to use magic on the children,” she explained.

“I don’t think that this really counts. I just reduced their mass so they could bounce about,” I responded with some relief. I had actually thought she’d be more upset about our falling daughter.

She stared agape at me. “Doesn’t count? Were you dropped on your head as a child… like our daughter nearly was? Our children were flying about the room like butterflies! How is that not using magic on them?”

Obviously it was too soon to count on her overlooking the falling child portion of the incident. I decided to forge on. “When we discussed the topic of magic, we agreed that we wouldn’t expose them to any potentially harmful magic,” I countered, “This wasn’t harmful, with the possible exception of them dropping Irene after I fell asleep.”

“How do you know? Does anyone know? No one has the faintest clue what sort of lingering effects magic may have. That is why we agreed that you wouldn’t use any magic upon the children, at least until they are adults,” her voice sounded somewhat exasperated.

Even so, that wasn’t how I remembered our past conversation. “Hold on, Penny, before you get too far into that. We agreed that we wouldn’t expose the children to any harmful magic, not shelter them from all magic. Do you really think I would do something that was intrinsically harmful to them?”

“You don’t always know what will be harmful and what won’t!”

My nap had put me in the mood for a debate. “Give me an example,” I retorted.

“Remember the rocks you used to ‘incapacitate’ the men that ambushed us on the road?” she shot back immediately.

I flinched at the memory, and I could see a flicker of guilt in her own eyes as she mentioned it. Years ago I had created a spell to send small rocks flying unerringly at the heads of enemies. My intention had been to knock them senseless, but the reality had turned out differently. My stones had struck with enough force to shatter their skulls. I had continued to use the spell after that, but only when my intention was to use lethal force. That first mistake was but one of several that still haunted me. “That wasn’t fair, Penny,” I warned.

“Fair can go hang! This is about our children, Mort. One mistake and we could be ex-parents. How ‘fair’ would that be?” she said heatedly before countering, “Name one use of magic that you think is completely harmless.”

“Healing,” I said immediately.

“Marcus,” she replied with one word.

I had long ago shared with her the effect of Millicenth’s choosing Marcus to be her avatar, though I still hadn’t told her about the more recent news… that it might be fatal. Somehow I didn’t think that would help my argument. “His addiction resulted from the abuse of the goddess, not merely the act of healing,” I replied.

The conversation devolved from there, and eventually we were forced to call a truce, a truce that hinged upon my agreeing to refrain from any further magic involving our offspring. I agreed reluctantly, but I was still sore on the topic when we went to bed that evening.

That might have been the reason it took me several hours to fall asleep. Either that, or I had had too much of a nap earlier. No matter the cause, I tossed and turned for hours before finally drifting off into a troubled slumber. My dreams did nothing to improve the situation.

I sat astride a massive charger while staring across a sullen and brooding landscape. The sky was dark and heavy with clouds that appeared on the verge of producing rain, though none fell. A brisk wind whipped my face while I watched the sky grow ever darker. As I watched, the thunderheads grew and covered the sky completely, leaving the land in a darkness illuminated only by the glow of the clouds themselves, punctuated by occasional flashes of lightning.

It never occurred to me to wonder where I was, somehow I knew. This was the borderlands, the space between the world and elsewhere. The interface between the realm of men and the rest of… whatever else there was. Even in dreams I was unsure of what else might exist out there.

What was truly unusual was the weather. This place was normally one devoid of anything beyond bare rock and relentless wind. Thunder and lightning, much less clouds, were unusual and unwanted intruders here. Something is happening, I thought, worlds are about to collide.

The weather was a harbinger of something ominous. That I could feel, right down to my bones, and the electric tension in the air made even the roots of my teeth ache. I watched and waited, for I could think of nothing else to do. There was no course of action available to me here. I could only observe… and wait.

After what seemed an interminable wait, I felt, as much as saw, the sky crack. It was preceded by a darkening of the already black sky, followed by a thunderous flash of light, and a roaring noise that reminded me of thunder while being completely unlike it. It was the sound of reality being torn forcibly apart. In the wake of that terrible sound and the light that accompanied it, I sensed three incredible beings passing through. They were creatures of such power and magnitude, that I could not help but be left in speechless wonder and awe.

Deep within, my primal instincts urged me to dismount, to genuflect, or even lie face down, so great were the powers I sensed. These were gods, and while they were probably not even aware of my presence in the distance, my primitive hindbrain still yammered at me in mindless fear. I ignored it, and after a moment my stubborn nature and more rational forebrain silenced the raw emotion.

As my reasoning faculties began functioning again, I paid closer attention to the information my senses were bringing to me. A rift had been torn in the world, and three beings of enormous power had passed through, but they had not lingered. In fact, they had moved with a haste that left me wondering. The rift stayed open behind them, though it should have closed already. Such things were unnatural and could not sustain themselves, once the power that created them was withdrawn.

A cold sensation passed over me, while simultaneously the air grew still, as the endless ravening wind of the borderland came completely to a stop. In that pregnant pause, the light pouring from the rift died away as something dark occluded the opening, something ominous. A dark power issued through the tear in reality, and as it emerged, I could feel sweat standing out on my skin. This was a force far beyond the powers that had so recently passed, and while they were bright and indifferent, this power was undoubtedly malignant.

While I stared, I saw the dark mass turn, and somehow I could sense it was shifting itself to face me. An enormous eye appeared and I felt tiny in its gaze… fear shot through me as I realized it could see me. It was aware. Mal’goroth!

Sitting up in my bed I found myself cold and panting, as though I had run a hard mile and then been doused with cool water. My dream was still clear in my mind, and worse, I was certain that it was far more than just a night terror. My ears caught the sound of labored breathing, and I realized that Penny was twisting in the bed beside me. Her body curled and fought with the sheets she had wrapped around herself. That explains why I’m cold.

The thought barely registered though, I was more concerned with my wife. Her eyes had opened and she was staring rigidly at the ceiling, as though whatever her gaze had fixed upon left her paralyzed with fear. “Wake up,” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder.

Worried, I began to shake her, hoping I could snap her out of the dream, when something that had never happened before occurred. Her eyes fixed upon me, focusing, and then her lips moved, “Don’t.”

“Are you awake?” I asked. Her voice sounded odd.

“No, but I will be if you keep shaking. You mustn’t do that Mort. Let me finish talking to her,” as she finished that statement her eyes closed.

“Talking to whom?”

“To the Penelope of the present,” she answered softly.

Well that reply left me dumbfounded. I had thought I was talking to the Penelope of the present, whatever that meant. Her body had grown still and calm, so I felt better at least. Until her lips began moving, while she mumbled softly to herself, never quite clearly enough for me to understand. Penny had had a number of important visions over the years, and quite a few minor ones, but they had never been like this. In most cases she went limp, still, or appeared to pass out. Once or twice she had begun shaking, but tonight she seemed to be holding an internal dialogue while being not quite truly asleep.

“I really hope you aren’t going to start giving cryptic messages when you wake up. I’ve had just about enough of those for one lifetime, thank you very much,” I said, without much hope of being heard. It was doubtful that her conversation partner cared much for my opinion anyway.

She looked at me again, “That isn’t always easy. Sometimes you think simple statements like, ‘help the twins change their clothes,’ are cryptic. How should I know what you’ll understand and what you won’t?”

I stared at her uncertainly, “Am I addressing Penny of the present or ‘Penny the unknown’?”

She frowned, “What makes you say that? Were you watching my vision?”

“No, you told me to stop bothering you, and when I asked who you were talking to, you told me ‘Penny of the present’,” I informed her. “I got the distinct impression that you weren’t quite yourself.”

The expression on her face spoke volumes. Unfortunately, much like her previous mumbling I had not a hope of understanding what it was saying. Finally she spoke aloud, to put an end to my confusion, “You aren’t going to like this, but I’ve had another vision, and this one is unlike any of the others I have had so far.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded sagely.

“I saw a portent of dark times to come. The gods walk the earth directly, and we are all in danger…,” she began.

“I already knew that part,” I said interrupting, “I had my own dream.”

Penny gave me a waspish look. She rarely liked being interrupted. “Fine, then I can move on to the important part. I met myself and I’ve been given a message for you, as well as a choice.”

“Penelope Cooper, I swear on my father’s grave, if you give me some weird and unintelligible message, like, ‘Beware the man that casts no shadow, for he fears the wind,’ it will be the last thing you do,” I told her gravely.

She shook her head, which made her already loose bun fall apart. Brown hair fell about her in untidy curls. “No, there’s nothing mysterious about this one… if you’ll just let me finish, and my name is Penelope Illeniel, if you recall. We’re married.”

“Not if you don’t tell me the full truth,” I said a bit petulantly. “Seven years ago you left me thinking you were dead, and it nearly killed me. I don’t care what your prophetic powers warned you about; you’d best tell me all of it this time.”

Penny’s eyes crinkled a bit, full of sympathy. “I will. There’s nothing hidden, at least nothing in the present. I can tell you everything that I know.”

Before she could continue I put in, “What do you mean, the present?”

“If you’ll shut up, I will tell you!” she snapped back.

I was already riled, up but I paused for a moment, and after giving it some thought, I decided she had a point. I closed my mouth without further comment and waved my hands indicating she could continue.

After a moment she did, “I’ll start at the beginning. Like you, I saw the gods tear a hole in the fabric of the world allowing them to cross over completely, but unlike when Celior crossed, this time they were able to manage the crossing without any aid from our side.”

I bit my lip. It was plain that her vision had included a lot more detail than mine, but I didn’t dare ask questions yet. I made a mental note to bring it up when she was finished. It shouldn’t be possible for them to cross without the aid of someone of power on this side.

“All three of the remaining Shining Gods have entered our world, and they were followed by Mal’goroth. The meaning of that I am unsure of, but I’m certain that it can’t be good,” she told me.

I nodded, doing my best to let her finish. I’ve been waiting for their retribution for seven years, since the day I imprisoned their brother, I noted mentally, but I always hoped it would be one at a time… not like this!

Penny took a deep breath, “This is the part you may not like.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know much else, my vision was interrupted by someone, and I was given a choice: knowledge without the ability to affect the outcome, or ignorance with the hope of protecting those I love.” She stopped after that, waiting for my reaction.

I had a better handle on myself by then, and I answered in a more controlled fashion. “First, I’d like to know more precisely who you were talking with.”

“Myself,” she replied. “I spoke with a future version of myself, one that had seen the vision I was about to see.”

“I thought she seemed familiar,” I muttered. “So, why would you interrupt your own vision?”

“It was my only remaining choice. Things hadn’t gone well for that other me. She was somehow able to warn me, to start over. For some reason, ignorance may offer more hope than knowledge,” she answered.

I could sense the hesitation in her voice. “Does this mean our actions will alter her future? Or is she from a different future?” My head was whirling with possibilities.

Penny put her hand on my chin. “Pay attention. Don’t let that big brain of yours lead you astray. The important thing is that she gave us a chance to make better choices. According to what she told me, we have at least a week or more, and if I had accepted the full knowledge the vision would have laid before me, my choices would have been fixed, and we would most certainly have lost some, or maybe all of our children.”

“What!?” I said, with some alarm. Apparently my safeguards weren’t sufficient, which despite the situation was a surprise. I had spent a considerable amount of time planning contingencies. Any man fearing the gods might seek vengeance through his family would do likewise… if he had the resources at my disposal.

Penny’s hand on my arm stilled me for a moment. “That won’t happen, Mort. I chose a different path. Taking my other-self’s advice, I was able to end the vision and deny myself that knowledge. My choice now is simply to prepare, with you, for what we know must be coming.”

I shook my head in bewilderment. “What can you do Penny? Not that I ever liked your visions, but knowledge was your only advantage.” I stopped myself before adding, ‘you’re helpless’.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said suddenly, “and you know there are other options. Give me power Mort. Let me protect our children.” Her eyes were emphatic as they bored into my own.

“You know better than that. I’ll never remake that bond, Penny,” I said flatly.

She put her hand in my hair. “Not that bond… the earth bond; make me as your Knights of Stone.”

“There’s a limit to what I can do…,” I began. “I can only create twenty of them.”

“Don’t feed me stories Mordecai. You picked that number out of the air. I’m certain you can manage another if you really feel it to be necessary,” she argued.

“Just a few hours ago you were angry that I used magic on the children. Now you want me to do something far more serious to you. We don’t know what this might do. What if you could no longer have children? What if they were stillborn?” I said, and in my mind were visions of hard rocklike children.

“I am not one of the children, and if you don’t give me the power to defend them who will?” she replied passionately.

“I will!” I barked back at her. “You’ve seen what the earth bond does to people. I’ve already had to release and replace three of them.”

“You can’t protect everyone, Mort! We learned that lesson already, and all of these plans and contingencies you’ve created over the years are just that… plans. When they come for us all, your plans will dissolve into chaos in a matter of moments. I need the ability to protect our children, and frankly I don’t care what the costs are. We have four children now, and I would rather keep the ones we have than worry about whether we’ll be able to have more in the future.”

When she finished she simply stopped and her eyes bored into me. I could see desperation there, the same desperation I would have felt if I was facing our current situation without any power of my own. I felt my love for her grow, as it always had, and without hesitation I reversed my stance. I knew my objections were based purely on fear, fear of losing her, but we both feared something worse… losing our family. It was a moment of ironic tragedy and camaraderie, both at the same time. The tragedy was my realization that I was willing to trade her safety, her life, for our children if necessary. The camaraderie came from the fact that we both shared that decision, that if necessary, they were more important than either of our lives. We had each become secondary to their safety.

“I could never have chosen a better mother for my children,” I said abruptly, putting my hand against her cheek. Her face grew curious at my change in demeanor, so I explained, “I loved you more than my own life, more than I thought I could love anything. Then we had children, and somewhere along the way, without realizing it, I grew to love them so much, that I am now willing to risk your life for theirs… and somehow I still love you even more than I did before.”

I felt tears welling in my eyes, but somehow Penny had still begun crying before me, her face was already wet when she answered, “That’s not fair Mort. You can’t just stop and say something like that in the middle of an argument.” She wiped her cheeks. “Look at what you did.”

I drew her close and we stayed quiet for a while, simply breathing and taking comfort in each other’s arms. “I will give you the bond,” I told her at last, “but I won’t make you one of my knights.”

She nodded, glancing up at me. “I never asked you to make me a knight, but since you brought it up… why not?”

“I don’t want you beholden to any oaths, not to me, not to our people, or anyone else. I will give you strength, but I want you to use it purely at your own discretion, and by that I mean, that if you need to abandon everyone and everything else to save our children… I want you to do so,” I explained.

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing me even harder.

“Don’t thank me,” I told her. “These are desperate decisions, and eventually we will pay the price for them. I just wish you didn’t have to pay with me.”

We didn’t waste any more time, and that night in our darkened bedroom, I bound a part of the earth to Penny. It wasn’t a decision I could change, but I still felt as though I were damning her to some terrible fate. Afterward, we lay silent and waited for sleep that would not come.