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CHAPTER SIX

As before, setting up the ritual that would enable Sapphire Wind to use the Font of Sight would take time. As the only one of their number who knew Uten Kekui, Xerak needed to direct the ritual. Meg joined him within the rounded room that held the Font, so that she could speak for Sapphire Wind. Nefnet excused herself to prepare some new medications for when Vereez’s wound dressing would need to be changed.

And probably to get a break from too many people, Teg thought sympathetically. It can’t be easy to go from solitude to a whole mess of guests. And a major battle in what one has probably come to think of as one’s living room would definitely be upsetting.

Since Brunni was still solidly asleep, Grunwold excused himself to do some maintenance on Slicewind. Peg offered to sit with Vereez while the young woman napped on the cot Meg had used the night before.

“Teg,” Xerak said, “I know you’re eager to go poking in the rubble, but if you could do so from where I can call on you for magical assistance, that would be good. Normally, I wouldn’t ask a raw apprentice, but with Vereez down . . .”

“I understand,” Teg assured him. “Don’t worry. There’s no lack of rubble here to keep me amused.”

As Teg finished speaking, she noticed that Peg was motioning for Ohent and Ranpeti to join her and Vereez. Teg drifted to where she could listen while still being on call if Xerak needed her.

“Vereez can’t sleep,” Peg said when Ohent and Ranpeti arrived. “I’ve offered her a sleeping draught, but she wanted to talk with both of you instead. Can you pull over a bench and make yourselves comfortable?”

The other two women did, and Vereez spoke for the first time. She sounded both extremely tired and very determined.

“When we discussed Brunni’s fate with my parents, we were all very polite and implied that Aunt Ranpeti would continue to have custody. That’s actually all right with me, especially if my aunt will let me get to know Brunni better, so that if anything happens—all deities of every religion ever practiced or imagined forefend—to Aunt Ranpeti, some sort of arrangement can be made so I can be part of taking care of Brunni. But Ohent-lial, your condition for bringing the Bird here was our finding Brunni, and making sure she was well. I can’t sleep until I find out how you feel about Aunt Ranpeti remaining Brunni’s main parent.”

Ohent’s smile was just a little sly. “I was wondering if you would ask, or if you would just hope I’d overlook our agreement. Then, too, Kaj has a sire’s claim on the girl, and I felt he should be spoken to once he had a chance to get to know her.”

Teg glanced around, noticing that Kaj was nowhere to be seen, but Teg felt certain that he would not be able to get up to any mischief. The guardian creatures, which had increased in visibility even in the short time they’d been away at the Visage Isles, would make sure that, if Kaj’s grave robber impulses came to the fore, nothing was taken.

“And?” Peg cajoled. “Have you spoken to your son, Ohent?”

Ohent laughed. “I have and he was horrified, not only at the idea of having to become a father, rather than merely a sire, but that I would even consider taking Brunni from Ranpeti-lial. He’s a bit of a mama’s boy, my Kaj, and he respects a mother’s rights.”

Ranpeti, whose posture had been a reminder that, cute and cuddly as they might seem, otters were predators, relaxed so fast she nearly collapsed against the back of the bench.

“And you, Ohent-lial? Do you want Brunni? I assure you here and now, I won’t give her up without a fight.”

“Call me Ohent-toh,” the other woman said, “and I will call you Ranpeti-toh. I agree with what Vereez said to Inehem. Brunni will need to know about her past. What better beginning than that she knows at least one of her grandmothers is friends to her mother? If Nefnet and Sapphire Wind agree, I was considering staying here at the Library, so Nefnet could help me research what course of treatment would be best for the damage done to me by my custodianship. Perhaps you can stay here as well. What better place to use as a refuge from the acolytes of the Grantor of Miracles—half a world away, and magically guarded as well?”

“I like the idea,” Ranpeti agreed. “As I said, I suspect my home in the Isles is lost to me. However, thanks to recent negotiations, my fortune is not lost.”

Vereez cut in. She still looked tired, but Teg thought this looked like the healthy exhaustion of one who would soon be sound asleep.

“We can make plans before we leave. We’re going to need to shift our funds to other banks in any case. While we’re doing that, we can shop so those of you who remain behind will not be restricted to camping.”

Peg smiled. “There’s lots of room here in the Library itself. Surely there must have been proper restrooms and such. You all could be very comfortable if we cleared them out and made repairs.”

Teg noticed that Vereez’s eyes had now drifted shut, that the hand Peg still held was no longer gripping so tightly. If she wasn’t asleep now, she would be soon.

Not long after, Kaj returned from wherever he had been exploring, and joined Xerak and Meg near the Font. Teg noticed that as he made his way into the Font chamber, Kaj’s canine nose twitched, as if he smelled something interesting. Nor did he lose interest when a scrying was attempted, failed, and attempted again, nor when that second attempt also failed, and a third begun.

It was a good thing Kaj was there, because he was able to catch Xerak when the lion-headed wizard collapsed. Teg thought it said something about Xerak’s level of despair that he didn’t seem to appreciate that he was being held in those muscular arms. Instead, Xerak abstractedly nodded his thanks, then let Kaj half carry him out into the reception hall, where he carefully arranged himself on one of the benches, his spear staff braced in both hands so he could lean his head against it.

“I guess,” Xerak said, the low rumble of his words deadly flat with despair, “I shouldn’t be surprised. Every other attempt to scry my master’s location has met with failure. Why should this be any different?”

“I will stomp on your tufted tail if you start whining,” Grunwold said, coming into the hall on the heels of Ranpeti, who had hurried to get him. “We’re not done yet. Don’t forget the words Teg spoke back in Hettua Shrine. They promised we’d find answers to our questions if we came to the Library of the Sapphire Wind. Looks as if we’ll need to have an intact Ba Djed of the Weaver before we have sufficient wind in our sails to drive us to wherever Uten Kekui-va is.”

He raised his antlered head so his nose was pointed in the general direction of the ceiling. “Hey, Sapphire Wind, are you as fried as our wizard boy here, or can you do whatever it is you do to pinpoint the location of the missing bit?”

“With two pieces close, I should be better able to find the third,” Sapphire Wind replied through Meg. “Far better than when I had only one and its desire for completion was split between two points.”

Ohent had come to reclaim her portion of Ba Djed. Now she halted, the enshrouding container that held the minute bronze bird nestled in the palm of her clawed hand.

“You’ll still need this? Or are you going to wait until Xerak has recovered?”

“I can try now,” Sapphire Wind replied. “This seeking will draw upon my abilities, as well as the Bird and Spindle’s energies, so Xerak’s weariness is not a detriment. As with our other scrying, I was planning to use the Font of Sight to reveal what I find. Although my abstract knowledge is great, I am little travelled, and what images there are may mean little to me, less if they need to be interpreted through Meg’s perception, since she knows only slightly more of this world than I do.”

“How long do you need to set up?” Xerak asked, after taking a deep drink directly from his wine flask.

“Not long,” Sapphire Wind said. “I was created to draw upon and protect Ba Djed.”

Vereez and Brunni had both awakened during the commotion following Xerak’s collapse, so their entire company, including Nefnet, trooped to the room that held the Font.

“This Font is fascinating,” Peg told Ranpeti, “and extremely useful, but the room is also almost completely round. You might want to carry Brunni over to a seat so she doesn’t slip.”

The seats in question were mounted into the walls of the room, after the style of theater in the round. A large chalice-shaped sculpture rose from a floor that, like the walls and ceilings, was covered in minute white tiles.

Teg had been in the chamber several times before, but once she was in her seat she looked around, certain something was different. After a moment, she had it: the tiles, white before, now almost glowed with a soft, nacreous sheen that revealed almost undetectable hints of pastel pink, blue, and yellow.

“Sapphire Wind, you’ve been housekeeping!”

Meg’s voice sounded pleased. “The abau are very useful for dusting and polishing. Now that I have more control, I sent a flock in.”

Teg, remembering a less domestic encounter with the yellowish-grey creatures Peg had dubbed “flying pancakes,” felt an involuntary shudder run up her spine.

“I’m glad to see they’re so useful.”

Once everyone was comfortably seated, Sapphire Wind dimmed the lights.

At first, Teg wasn’t sure whether she really felt the energies building or if she had been convinced that she should be able to do so. However, when she saw Xerak’s mane rising as if charged with static electricity, she decided it wasn’t her imagination. Interestingly, the reaction to whatever Sapphire Wind was channeling into the Font seemed to vary from person to person, with Xerak and Ohent the most affected, then Teg, Meg, Nefnet, Brunni, and Vereez. Grunwold showed little reaction. Kaj was the real surprise. The longer bits of the red and black fur along his neck nearly crackled as much as did Xerak’s mane.

Teg put this interesting tidbit aside for later contemplation, for an image was forming in the air directly over the Font. At first, she thought that the room they were looking at might be the repository within the Library of the Sapphire Wind, perhaps a vision from the past, before the corridors had been littered with rubble. But that couldn’t be. Those were industrial metal shelves filled with cardboard boxes and plastic cases. The labels were about evenly split between handwritten and typed, but the language in which they were written was English—not magically translated characters that somehow made sense—but all-too-familiar English.

“I don’t . . .”

“What the . . .”

“What sort of place is . . .”

The muttering was incisively cut by Meg’s voice. “I believe that’s Jaxine Museum’s overflow library facility and repository at Taima University. Teg? Do you agree?”

Teg got up from her seat and walked down to where she could lean into the image the Font had created in order to take a closer look at the labels. “That does look like the correct nomenclature: JMTU for the facility and university; the next digits indicate where the contents were acquired; then classification; finally, date. What the heck is going on here?”

When Peg spoke, her voice was thoughtful. “As soon as we figured out that maybe, just maybe, the three of us being summoned wasn’t a mistake caused by impulsive inquisitors, I’ve wondered: Why us? Why did Hettua Shrine grab onto three people from our world to help provide the solution to our inquisitors’ problems? If I understand what more usually happens, help rarely comes from another world.”

Nods encouraged her to continue.

“I’d like to think we’ve been useful to our inquisitors, but I’m not sure we’ve been more helpful than three people with roughly equivalent skills from Over Where would be. The one thing we have to offer that no one from this world could is the connection to our world. If the last part of Ba Djed of the Weaver is in our world, then that’s the unique element we can provide.”

“You have a point,” Teg said excitedly. “There are certainly people at Taima University who have a closer connection with that repository, but we have something else to offer that would be hard to find—we’re more or less disposable.”

“Disposable?” Xerak repeated, sounding horrified. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Teg admitted ruthlessly, “that we could—essentially—vanish for weeks and no one would notice or even care. Peg’s family is extensive, but her children are grown and have their own children and activities. Meg . . .”

“I am not precisely intimate with either Charles or Judy,” Meg interrupted primly. “I am certain that they are just as happy to have me off on an extensive holiday.”

“And I’m a loner,” Teg concluded. “No spouse. No children. Currently on sabbatical, so no job to miss me either. Felicity, my cat sitter, might get annoyed if I landed her with Thought and Memory for too long, but that’s it. And since the cats have taken to wandering over here from time to time, I don’t even need to worry about them getting lonely.”

“We haven’t been gone that long,” Peg reminded her. “The seven days here, one back home time difference has helped a lot. But Teg is right. We’re at a time in our lives and in the lives of our families where we’re back-burnered.”

“So,” Grunwold said, his tone of voice cocky, but something in the tilt of his ears showing he was trying to avoid seeming to pity them, “we’ve figured out why we got stuck with the three of you. Great. Can you go to this repository and fetch the Nest of Ba Djed or is the repository at this Jaxine Museum as full of monsters as the one here at the Library of the Sapphire Wind?”

Teg frowned. “No monsters, different challenges. The good news is that I actually have researcher privileges at Jaxine Museum. Depending on how that box is classified, I might even be able to check it out and get a look at the contents.”

Ears perked and a few muted cheers were heard. Teg held up her hand.

“That’s the good news. There’s another side. First, researcher privileges don’t mean that I can expect to take the box home with me. Unless I’m very lucky, I’m going to need to inspect the contents there.”

“And even then,” Xerak said, nodding slowly in understanding, “you couldn’t just take something out of the box and drop it in your pocket. Difficulties, yes, but not insurmountable. Teg, if we managed to get you something that looked like the Nest of Ba Djed, could you manage to switch it for the real artifact?”

“I’d be willing to try,” Teg said promptly, “but we’d need to be careful that the materials matched. Sapphire Wind, do you know what the missing part is made from? We’ve only seen visual images.”

A long pause, then Sapphire Wind said, “I believe it is polished jet. We should have some jet here, but it would need to be carved into the proper shape.”

Ohent laughed. “I volunteer Kaj to make the duplicate. He’s very talented at copying items in stone or wood.”

I bet he is, Teg thought. I wonder if Xerak’s mother bought some faked grave goods for her antique store over the years, or if Ohent and Kaj saved those for the tourists.

Kaj said, “Sure, I think I can do it, especially if Sapphire Wind will show me close-up images of the Nest, so that I can make sketches and take measurements.”

“This can be done,” Meg said. “Sapphire Wind will also tell Emsehu where to find a supply of jet for you. Using the guardians to retrieve it should be safer.”

“From what I’ve seen of this place,” Kaj said with a dry laugh, “I completely agree.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Teg said. “The time difference between here and home is going to be in our advantage for this, because Kaj will have plenty of time to make his carving. Even if I go and spend an hour there, that’s seven hours here. Sapphire Wind, can you zoom in on the box I need to get access to?”

There wasn’t a verbal reply but, a few moments later, the image began to shift, homing in first on one shelf, then on one box. Teg leaned forward and jotted down the reference numbers.

“Peg, you’ve been keeping track of the calendar. What day of the week is it?”

Peg pulled a small notebook from a pocket on the outside of her knitting bag. “It’s a Monday.”

Teg nodded briskly. “Great! That means we have all week, and probably at least part of Saturday, too, to get an available appointment. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll go back to my house and call the repository. If I’m lucky, I’ll get an answer right away. If so, I’ll come back and let you know how soon I can see that box. Meantime, we take advantage of the time lag to get started on making a duplicate of the part we’ll be switching—the Bird’s Nest.”

Ranpeti spoke into the brief silence that followed. “So, in addition to being able to speak our language, you mentors can go back and forth between our world and your own at will? How is that managed? I understood that of you only Teg-lial seems to have a magical gift, and even she is an apprentice.”

Meg smiled, obviously enjoying Ranpeti’s enthusiasm. “The translation spell is courtesy of Hettua Shrine. It permits us to understand the languages of this world, and read them as well. It has some difficulties if our language doesn’t have a word for something in this world, but we manage. I’m even making a dictionary, just in case someday the spell fails to work.”

“As for how we go between worlds . . .” Peg set her knitting needles aside and raised her right arm, pulling her sleeve back from the wrist to show a bracelet made from what looked like twisted wires of copper, gold, silver, and bronze, all highly polished. A single grey stone bead, sparkling with minute etchings, was strung over the wire.

“One of the first things we did after we decided we’d stay to serve as mentors,” Peg continued, “was arrange a means for us to get home again. Hawtoor, the shrine keeper of Hettua Shrine, directed our making these. They let each one of us get back to a single location on our world. We each chose our own homes.”

“That’s wonderful!” Ranpeti exclaimed. “Can you use them at any time or from any place?”

“Within limits,” Meg said. “We’re still testing just what those are. Hawtoor said that we should think of them as a ferry boat, rather than a door, and that just as a ferry cannot be placed anywhere in a river, so these bracelets will work better in some places than in others. It helps if we’re in an isolated location, as well as one that isn’t very magically active.”

“But how does it know where to bring you back?” Ranpeti asked. “I mean here, in our world, not in your own world.”

“It helps to have another of the bracelets present to act as an anchor,” Meg said. “I believe that, in a pinch, we could use one of our three inquisitors, since each contributed to the making. See the different color wires?” She extended her own wrist. “The copper began as Vereez’s fur, the bronze as Grunwold’s, the gold as Xerak’s, and the silver from hair from each of us three humans—which is doubtless why there is more of it. The bead came from the stone of Hettua Shrine, so I suspect in an emergency we could return there.”

“Do the bracelets work if you’re in motion?” Ranpeti asked, clearly fascinated, “for example, when you’re sailing on Slicewind?”

“So far,” Peg replied cheerfully. “When we’re in transit has been when we’ve usually gone back home, to send message to the kids, or pick up something we need. Hawtoor did warn us that we’d need to learn what did and didn’t work as we went along. I don’t think he had a lot of examples to go on.”

“I don’t think,” Teg said, laughing as she remembered the pedantic shrine keeper, “he had any, but he was a willing old bird.”

Literally, in some senses, she thought, since his nonhuman elements were taken from some sort of owl.

“That’s wonderful,” Ranpeti said with a contented sigh. “When Vereez was telling me about how her parents, uh, grounded, her, she escaped by being taken through your world.”

“That’s right,” Teg said. “We didn’t want to take any chances that we’d reappear back in the House of Fortune, so Vereez and I walked over to Meg’s apartment, and she opened her door for us.”

“That’s wonderful,” Ranpeti repeated. “I’d love to see another world.”

“Me, too,” Grunwold said, almost bashfully for him. “If I hadn’t been so worried when we were rescuing Vereez, I would have asked to go over into Meg’s apartment at least.”

“I’d also like to see your world,” Xerak admitted. “An added benefit might be to strengthen the bracelets’ ability to link our worlds.”

Peg chuckled and picked up her knitting again. “A very scholarly excuse for playing tourist. What do you think, Teg? Could you take the boys and Ranpeti with you when you go to make our appointment to go to the repository? I’d take them, but every time I go back to my house to make a call or send e-mail, I worry I’ll find someone ‘housesitting’ for me.”

“Sure,” Teg said. “I’ll check first to make sure Felicity isn’t there feeding the cats, then pop back. However, given the risks, I think it would be better if we didn’t go anywhere but my house. We managed, just barely, to disguise Vereez by wrapping her up, but this jaunt has to be during the day, and I can’t figure out how we’d hide Grunwold’s antlers.”

No one disagreed, but Ranpeti withdrew from going along at the last minute. “I don’t want to not be here for Brunni.”

Vereez moved as if she was about to volunteer to babysit so her aunt could go, then said carefully, “She’s certain to miss Grunwold. Maybe you and I could play a game with her or take her for a walk.”

Good girl, Teg thought. You’re growing up in leaps and bounds, and I couldn’t be more proud.

Within the hour, Teg was ready to head back to her house.

“Remember,” she said, “I’ll be taking a few minutes to make sure my house is empty, and with the seven-to-one time difference, I’ll be gone at least ten minutes on this end.”

“Right,” Grunwold replied.

“We’ll be waiting,” Xerak reassured her.

And they were. When Teg came back for them, they followed her through eagerly enough, and looked around with interest when they stepped out of the closet in her bedroom. Teg’s two cats, Thought and Memory, who had been sleeping on her bed, started to bolt underneath, then stopped when they recognized her. They didn’t seem at all surprised to see Xerak and Grunwold, either.

Which says something, probably, Teg thought, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what.

“So,” she said, “this is probably the first time I’ve ever brought anyone straight to my bedroom, but that’s where you are. Bed. Dressers. Cats. If you go over to the window, you can see out, get a sense of our architecture and plants and all. This time of day, there should be a certain amount of traffic. Look around inside the house all you want, but stay clear of any window where you might be seen from outside. Meanwhile, I want to switch on my computer and see what I can learn about that box before I call to make a reservation.”

“Computer?” Xerak said. “You three all talk about these things as if they’re communication devices, but the translation spell seems to insist that they are for calculation or computation.”

“They originated that way,” Teg said, trotting down the stairs to her office, “but over time they’ve become multipurpose devices, and communication is one of the purposes.”

“Fascinating,” Xerak said, sounding so much like Mr. Spock that Teg had to swallow a giggle. She didn’t want to waste time explaining the reference.

As she worked, she could hear the boys poking about. As with when she’d taken Vereez on their short jaunt, what was interesting was not what she expected to surprise them—they accepted electric lights as a peculiar form of magic, and Vereez had told them about cars—but what she hadn’t anticipated. The ice machine on the refrigerator gave Grunwold quite a start, but that was nothing to when Xerak accidentally turned on the garbage disposal when randomly flipping switches.

They both came in and looked over her shoulder as she worked at her computer, so full of questions that she was pressed to concentrate.

“Okay,” she said at last. “Now I need to make a phone call. Why don’t you two go watch traffic for a few minutes.”

“Peg says ‘Go play in traffic,’” Grunwold replied. “Now that I see what your traffic looks like, I have a better idea how annoyed she is when says that.”

“Translation can only go so far,” Teg agreed. “Now, shoo, both of you.”

She lucked out, and was able to catch the person who did scheduling just before he left for a meeting. She scribbled down the necessary information, then went to get the boys.

“Okay, fellows. Let’s scoot.”

Once they were back at the Library, after Grunwold and Xerak had babbled a bit about their adventure, which had definitely delighted them, limited as it had been, Teg gave her report.

“I have an appointment for tomorrow there,” she said, stroking Memory, who had insisted on coming back Over Where with her. “Which is a week here. Anyone interested in what that box contains—and where it’s originally from?”

Peg and Meg both nodded.

Xerak spoke for the rest when he said, “It might be interesting, but I’m not certain your explanation would mean anything to us.”

Teg grinned. She was feeling curiously elated. The discovery that there was a connection between their world and Over Where had set her brain fizzing with possibilities. She knew that most of her guesses were probably wrong, but conjecture was as much a part of an anthropologist’s tool kit as were a trowel and tape measure.

“The box was donated to Jaxine Museum just a few years ago. It contains some interesting, if not very valuable, Egyptian artifacts that were offered to the museum by the widow of an alumnus.”

“Egyptian?” Meg’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Isn’t that rather outside of your area of expertise? How did you explain wanting to look at it?”

“I lucked out,” Teg replied. “There are some arrowheads in there. Nice ones. I made the excuse that I’m considering a popular article on different approaches to tipping arrows, and that I wanted to include as large a selection as possible.”

She felt herself grinning again. “Turns out that Jaxine Museum is thrilled I want to look at what—frankly, from the curators’ point of view—is just a lot of junk without provenience. If I reference the contents, especially if I include a photo or two, they’ll let the widow know and maybe the alumni association will find itself getting a nice check. People are funny that way.”

She turned to Peg. “Speaking of photographs, I seem to recall you’re pretty good with a camera.”

“My stepdaughter, Samantha, was very into photography,” Peg admitted. “I went to so many classes, I learned as much as she did. And then when digital cameras became affordable, well, grandchildren are my favorite subject.”

“Great! Then I nominate you as my assistant. We’ll set you up with a light box and all the paraphernalia. If there are two of us moving things around, taking pictures, and all the rest, it should make it easier for us to switch the real artifact for the fake. Speaking of which, how’s that going?”

“Emsehu brought me a fairly good supply of jet,” Kaj said, “most of which looks as if it was used in small statues that were broken when the Library collapsed. There are several pieces large enough to provide me with ample material to carve a replica Nest.”

“That’s great,” Teg said. “Take your time. You have a week.”

Meg said, “Speaking of which, since you and Peg will be going back, I have a new prescription I need to refill, and I wouldn’t mind some more moisturizer and a refill on my toothpaste. Can I give you my credit card and a short shopping list? I’ll go over to my apartment tonight and call in the prescriptions.”

“That should be fine,” Teg said. “The pharmacy you use is right on our way.”


Over the next several days, work on the substitute Bird’s Nest progressed quite well. Teg had thought it odd that Kaj had brought his carving tools with him, but that was until he started working. Once he did, he sat absorbed for hours on end, carefully shaving minute bits off the chunk of jet, checking his work repeatedly against the drawings he had made. Clearly, carving was a passion with him. As he worked, he even lost his sullen, bad-boy affect.

Teg almost liked him.

Although Xerak was restless, the Library contained plenty of books to distract him. He also insisted that Teg take time away from searching the rubble to practice on various aspects of using her magical gift. These included meditation to make her more aware of her core, training to use the sun spider amulet more efficiently, and learning how to create an internal reservoir of mana.

“We can’t have you fainting every time there’s a crisis,” Xerak commented wryly.

Now that Brunni had been found, and Kaj was too occupied in his stone carving to pay attention to anything else, Vereez was more agreeable to resuming her own training. She’d had lessons in how to meditate and focus, as well as in how to store energy, but she admitted she was out of practice.

“I basically relied on my affinities,” she said, “for that extra sense they can give you, rather than doing actual spellcasting.”

“Given your sense for weather,” Xerak said, “I’m guessing that at least one of your affinities is for Air. Do you remember what you were told when you were tested?”

Vereez drooped her ears, obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. My parents repeated so many times that I really didn’t have anything more than a touch of talent, just enough to make me a danger to myself and others, that I just shrugged it off. That ‘danger to myself and others’ was why they were arranging for me to have any training at all, and the repeated warnings didn’t make me at all eager to experiment.”

Xerak shook his head so hard that his mane swept side to side. “Another of those convenient lies you were told. I feel sure of that. Well, affinities are overrated, which is why I haven’t been worrying about where Teg’s might lie. Still . . . Are your swords here or aboard Slicewind?”

“Here,” Vereez replied. “Nefnet said I could do nonimpact sword drills in my PT, so I didn’t lose all my flexibility and muscle tone in my injured arm.”

“Can you get them?” Xerak asked. “Or at least one of them? I’d like to take a closer look.”

“Sure,” Vereez replied, and returned a moment later, carrying one of the slightly curved-bladed weapons in its ornate sheath. She pulled the blade out, revealing the shining pink-gold of what Teg knew was magically hardened copper. Wordlessly, Vereez handed the sword to Xerak.

Xerak inspected both the blade and hilt minutely. Then, with a quick glance at Vereez for permission, he unscrewed the glass ball at the pommel, slid off the haft, and inspected the tang of the blade.

“This sword is very like my staff,” he said as he reassembled the weapon, and returned it to Vereez. “That is, it isn’t magical as such, except that it is intended to channel magic—wind magic, lightning magic, specifically.”

“That probably explains why the blades are copper,” Meg said. “Copper and copper alloy are the chosen metals for lightning rods.”

“Can I ask where you got those swords?” Xerak asked.

Vereez sheathed the bare blade. “From your mother, actually, shortly after we decided to go to Hettua Shrine. I’d gone by Fardowsi-toh’s shop to wait for you, and your mother told me that she had a ‘good luck’ present for me. When she gave the sword to me, I figured my parents had told her I’d been studying twin sword style, but now I wonder if she thought these swords would suit me because she knew or guessed that I had magic similar to my mother’s.”

Xerak shrugged. “I can’t speak for my mom. Maybe she was just feeling sentimental, but she’s rarely sentimental about business, and these would have been an expensive gift. I wonder if your parents knew your affinity and told her? Or maybe Mom guessed based on what she knew about your mother’s magic. Affinities often run in families—as do oppositions.”

“Maybe.” Vereez pinned her ears back and wrinkled her muzzle in a snarl. “One thing I’m sure of is that my parents didn’t anonymously provide this gift. Fardowsi-toh made me promise that I wouldn’t show the swords to Inehem or Zarrq. She hinted strongly that I should keep them under wraps until you and I were well away from Rivers Meet. I loved them right off, and was happy to agree. I was already pretty angry at my parents, so keeping the swords a secret was easy to do.”

Peg broke the uncomfortable silence that followed. “The glass balls at the pommels may be more than ornamental. My second husband, Nash, collected antique yard ornaments, and I remember him saying that the glass balls on old-fashioned lightning rods were meant to shatter when the rod took a direct hit—an indication that the rod’s grounding wires should be checked to make sure they hadn’t been burned through. Maybe these are just decorative, but if they crack or break, I’d be sure to replace them.”

“Glass is also highly nonconductive,” Meg added, “so the glass balls may be practical—some form of insulation.”

Xerak nodded. “The similarity to lightning rods makes sense. My spear is resistant to burning. That isn’t to say that it wouldn’t burn if I dropped it in a volcano, but . . .”

After learning the traits of Vereez’s swords, Xerak incorporated their use into Vereez’s training routine, showing her how she could store mana in the swords, much as he did in his staff.

The delay before their appointment at the Jaxine Museum repository also had the benefit of giving Vereez’s wounded arm—as well as the smaller wounds suffered by the rest of the group—time to heal. Once Nefnet gave her okay, Vereez insisted on practicing swordplay as well, and Grunwold was happy to be her partner. Peg also joined in, saying that since there might be a chance she was going to need to use a sword again, she’d better stay in shape.

Meg and Teg found much to occupy themselves within the ruined Library, and although they decided to stay away from the repository, in case they encountered something even more dangerous than the acid bats, there were plenty of books, scrolls, tablets, data crystals, and the like to be sorted through. Emsehu usually acted as bodyguard when they ventured even a few steps away from the reception hall.

Grunwold wouldn’t let either Xerak or Kaj lose themselves in their more sedentary occupations. Nefnet had shown them where the staff restroom had been located, and he was determined that before Slicewind departed in search of Uten Kekui, they would have cleared out at least this area, which included a shower and tub. Peg appointed herself head of the team, saying that she’d noticed that the inquisitors, children of wealth and privilege that they were, could be inclined to shirk on cleaning duty.

“You can’t leave it all up to the abau,” she scolded when Xerak protested at being asked to clean a toilet. “It’s about time you acquired a few more practical skills, in any case.”

Perhaps shamed by Peg’s comment, Vereez offered to help, too, but Grunwold insisted that mucking around in dirt, grime, and who knew what latent magical hazards would not be good for her healing arm. Since Nefnet supported him in this, Vereez gave in.

Therefore, when not doing PT on her arm or practicing sword play or reviving her magical skills, Vereez did her best to make friends with Brunni, and to reconnect with the aunt she had thought was dead. Once Grunwold made clear to Brunni that he liked Vereez-toh “very, very much” Brunni seemed more willing to make friends. Once, briefly, she even wore the dress that Vereez had bought for her.


Even with teaching, researching, and outings for hunting, fishing, and foraging, as the days went by, Xerak grew increasingly tense, so Teg was relieved when the week that was only tomorrow in her home world concluded.

“I hope our plan works,” she confided in Peg as they were getting ready to leave. “If it doesn’t, I wouldn’t put it passed Xerak to decide he needs to go, break in to Jaxine Museum, and steal the Nest himself.”

“I know,” Peg agreed. “Why do you think Grunwold started taking him out hunting? Xerak’s practically crackling with nervous energy.”

She and Peg went back a few hours early, so Peg could send e-mails and make a few phone calls. They picked a time when Teg’s cat sitter, Felicity, was highly unlikely to come through, but Teg found herself thinking that maybe she should “make other arrangements” for Thought and Memory, so she could count on her house being vacant.

Of course, that would lead to other problems, like stopping the mail. She decided that making a decision could wait. Felicity was happy to be earning a little extra, and who knew how long Teg would be spending part of her life in another world? The Nest was the last part of Ba Djed of the Weaver they needed to find. Xerak’s inquisition would soon be answered, and then—she guessed—there would be no need for the three mentors to keep going back and forth.

The inquisitors probably wouldn’t even want us around. I mean, they’re happy to have three old ladies hanging out now, because they need us, but why would they when they’re no longer “held back”?

Teg put that out of her mind as well, aware that she had been doing a lot of that lately.

An hour before their appointment at the repository, she and Peg set out for the Jaxine Museum. As on the memorable night that Teg had brought Vereez through, walking seemed like the best idea and the February weather wasn’t too terribly unpleasant.

“I think I’ve gotten in better shape,” Peg commented as she walked briskly along at Teg’s side. “But I don’t think what we’ve been through is exactly a training program that can be recommended to the local gym.”

Teg laughed agreement. “We’ve spent over sixty days there, but only nine have passed here. No . . . That would be really hard to explain, especially since even if our bodies’ short-term demands seem to be tied to Over Where—meals, sleep, like that—for larger issues . . .”

“Like aging,” Peg chuckled.

“Meg’s request that we pick up her prescription has me thinking about things like taking medications,” Teg said. “Originally, I’d decided to take about half of what I would, but after a while I backed off on mine even more. I have a feeling that—maybe it’s only hope—that we’re still on this world’s slower timetable.”

Peg nodded. “I know what you mean. My hair hasn’t needed a trim or dye job, for example, but usually after two months—our timetable Over Where—I’d need at least a trim and tint.”

Teg ran a hand over her own purple-dyed punk cut. “Me, too, and I didn’t even have your foresight in getting my hair done right before we left.”

“Well, whatever the reason,” Peg said. “The time difference works well for us. If any of my kids ask about my new buffness, I’ll enjoy coming up with an explanation.”

“You would,” Teg agreed. She pointed. “There’s Jaxine Museum. Remember, this time, let me make the explanations.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

Jaxine Museum was housed in a relatively new building across the street from the main campus of Taima University. The old museum building had been prettier, but was no longer suited for displays in the modern mode. Now the old museum’s lower floors had been converted into classrooms, the upper into greatly coveted office space.

Most visitors to the stylish new museum appreciated the ample parking, the glass-walled atrium which housed a café that was rapidly becoming a destination in its own right, as well as the displays. Such visitors usually had no idea that below ground level an ultramodern repository occupied a series of rooms: some equipped with climate-controlled cases, some holding merely rank after rank of heavy-duty metal shelves.

Teg avoided the grand main entrance, leading Peg around to a much more utilitarian door near a loading dock. There she showed her ID and explained that she had an appointment. She’d just finished signing in both herself and Peg when a graduate student arrived to escort them. He introduced himself as Dan Reitz, and added that he was doing his dissertation on fabric curation and restoration.

Dan Reitz was probably older than Xerak, but something about his scruffy ginger beard and scraggly hair reminded Teg of the lion-headed wizard. From how Peg was trying not to giggle, she guessed she wasn’t the only one.

After escorting Teg and Peg to a well-lit room with a conference table, Dan left, promising to return with the appropriate file container. The promised light box was already set up. Peg took out Teg’s digital camera and a handful of junk from her purse, and did some practice shots. They were viewing these on Teg’s laptop when Dan returned, rolling a dolly on which not only the box they wanted but also some others Teg had requested as cover had been stacked. Teg helped unload them, then thanked Dan.

“I’m sure you have research of your own to do. I’ll call when we’re done.”

Sadly, Dan did not accept this dismissal. “I need to stay here. Sorry, it’s one of the more annoying bits of museum policy.”

“Must be since my day,” Teg said, shrugging as if this didn’t matter. “We used to take boxes home.”

“Yeah,” Dan said. “I hear that all the time from senior faculty and research associates. I think the policy was changed when the new museum was built. I guess they had to justify these fancy labs.”

“No problem,” Teg said. “Make yourself comfortable. We’re going to be a while.”

She and Peg both donned lightweight gloves, so as to not leave skin oils on the artifacts—and to avoid skin contact with the Nest. This done, Teg set out to deliberately bore their affable young guardian. At first Dan was eager to assist, doubtless believing he could speed them along. Initially, Teg encouraged him to help unpack items and line them on the table, although she was careful to make sure she took out any bag she thought might hold the Nest. Then she became pickier regarding the sort of shots she needed. After Teg made Peg take five pictures of the same spearhead, Dan obviously realized they weren’t going anywhere soon.

When his phone buzzed, he excused himself to a seat at the far end of the conference table, took the call, then explained he needed to look up a few things for his caller, and pulled out a tablet as he did so.

“No problem,” Teg said. She waited until Dan was well and thoroughly involved in whatever he was looking at, then opened the box that had been her goal all along.

The black jet Nest was wrapped in tissue, which had in turn been encased in a Mylar bag. Teg took it out, along with the arrowheads that had been her excuse for requesting this particular box. Using the light box for cover, Peg exchanged the real Nest for Kaj’s forgery. Peg scooped up the “real” black tulip and slid it into her pocket with the confidence of an accomplished pickpocket. There was a slight clicking sound as she sealed the small enshrouding container she had placed there earlier.

I wonder which one of Peg’s kids was into sleight of hand, Teg wondered. Or maybe Peg learned that herself back in the days when she probably thought of the “squares” as fair game if she needed dough.

As Teg continued to request photos, commenting for Dan’s benefit that things were going faster now that she’d figured out exactly what angles she wanted, she was all too aware that, including travel time, the four or so hours she and Peg had so far spent on their heist amounted to over a day in the other world. Nonetheless, Teg didn’t want to risk any suspicious behavior. If all went well, no one would open this box for years to come, and even if they did, no one should be able to tell that the “sculpted item, possibly pendant” wrapped and bagged and placed in the box had an origin much farther away than ancient Egypt.

Eventually, Teg and Peg took their leave, thanking Dan, who doubtless would complain about what a complete waste of his time their visit had been. They were almost to the exit when a man’s voice said, “Excuse me, ladies. I’d like to speak with you.”


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Framed