Hoard

Izayaroa snorted in such intense exasperation that she produced a puff of flame. Vadaralshi immediately mimicked the gesture, and then before she had the chance to evade, Tiavathyris grabbed her right behind the head with one talon and pushed her to the floor, shifting her whole weight to stand on her neck.

“Oh, are you dissatisfied?” Emeralaphine snapped, flaring her wings aggressively. “Since you’re the expert, by all means! Go set up your own portal network. Do let me know how that goes.”

“Peace!” Kaln exclaimed as multiple dragons around him swelled up, raising wings and heads in a prelude to some exchange that was certain not to be constructive. “Emeralaphine, can you please explain the problem with setting up a portal such as she described? It seems like the simplest solution to me. Everyone else, kindly bear with my ignorance and let her talk.”

“Thank you, husband,” Emeralaphine said, raising her head proudly. “Finally, a voice of reason. Ahem. If you were to ask which is the most difficult kind of magic to learn, there are two answers. One is that it depends entirely on the manner of learning and one’s available resources, and that different systems of magic enacted by different gods are such an apples-and-oranges comparison to begin with that any magical specialist will have to forge multiple pacts with multiple deities relevant to their personal focus, meaning that no two mages will end up with precisely the same package of spells and all magical comparison is thus a pointless exercise. In short, the premise of the question itself is invalid. The second answer is portal magic.”

“Okay,” he prompted, because Emeralaphine was clearly the type of speaker who thrived on attention and engagement and he knew how to handle those. Frankly Kaln could have done with a bit more focus and a lot less poetic pontificating, but as long as she got there in the end he could live with it. “Go on?”

“In the case of the simplest teleportation,” Emeralaphine lectured, “one is either dissolving a target into their component atoms, converting those to energy, transferring them instantaneously across space, and reassembling them perfectly at the destination—without killing the subject—or warping space itself to bring two points together and then boring a hole in reality between them. In either case, the process involves an enormous amount of math which must be executed with absolute precision, and the consequences of the slightest error are utterly catastrophic.”

“You begin to see, husband, why we are so taken aback by your ability to teleport,” Tiavathyris added. “It’s not that we haven’t seen such feats before; it is that you do it by pure instinct, with no apparent understanding of what is happening.”

“I see,” he said gravely. Kaln’s first thought, which he of course kept to himself, was that this wasn’t very compelling; he had a suspicion that if one laid out in granular terms the physical details of what any magical effect was doing, they would sound equally impossible. Wasn’t that the point of magic? But, as he suspected, Emeralaphine was far from done explaining.

“Those are only the most basic details. Using either method, one must additionally account for the nature of space itself. We are on a planet which is orbiting a star, which is orbiting a galactic core, which is moving in patterns that cannot be understood because the basic rules of physics change at very large or very small scales, and the speeds of those movements to which I just referred begin at ‘beyond the scope of sapient comprehension’ and rise by multiple orders of magnitude with each level. If you were to, in absolute terms, teleport across the distance between you and me, at the other end of that instantaneous movement you would be light years away and probably adrift in space, left behind by the very motions of the spheres. So in addition to its basic mathematical requirements, teleportation must be calculated using the world itself as a point of reference. This is most readily done by syncing the transition to the spacetime curvature caused by the planet’s gravity, which itself creates additional complications; one must then account for the mass and motion of, at minimum, the moons, and to be safe, every other celestial object around our sun. And that’s before one even begins accounting for other magical effects in proximity.”

“Okay,” he repeated, repressing the urge to rub at his temples. “What is a light year, why does that sound like a measurement of time when your use of it in that sentence suggested it’s a measurement of distance, and is that related to how you just implied space and time are the same thing?”

“Well,” Pheneraxa interjected with the greatest eagerness he’d yet seen on her. He’d never seen someone so obviously about to launch into a speech; she was even more into it than her mother.

“And upon consideration,” Kaln interrupted her interruption, “how much of that do I need to know to understand the specific practical issue we’re dealing with right now?”

“He has a point, there,” Izayaroa agreed. “I do encourage you to explore the higher mysteries of the universe, husband, but perhaps at another time.”

“I am establishing a baseline,” Emeralaphine stated, shooting her daughter a quelling look. “Now you have the beginnings of an idea why teleportation is inherently difficult, husband. Magically speaking, I am a generalist—a specialist in versatility. As a broad rule, you should not allow a generalist mage to teleport you unless it’s urgent and an actual specialist is not available. I am an exception to that as to most rules, due to being the greatest mage alive on this continent and possibly at all.” She managed to say that in an utterly casual tone, even while sticking her nose physically into the air. “The other ameliorating factor is that establishing a stable portal is probably the simplest application of portal magic. And yet, even with those two mitigating circumstances, the other additional problems caused by our situation pose a hurdle that may prove functionally insurmountable.”

“All right,” Kaln said encouragingly, privately suspecting that this, finally, was the first bit that would prove actually relevant to the question he’d asked her what already felt like a very long time ago. “Go on?”

“The issue is, in a word, security. Obviously any magical tunnel connecting our home to some random patch of woods at the far end of whatever dingy little kingdom exists there this week will have aggressive protections of its own. And that is not a problem, I can create those more easily than the tunnel itself. The problem is the other security with which it will interface. First, I am taking it as given that the local end of this putative portal will be in your chambers, husband, because the supplies it produces are for you and more importantly because we’re not having that kind of backdoor into our public spaces. Agreed?”

All five other dragons nodded, including Vadaralshi, who had only just been released from the floor. Kaln wasn’t sure about this logic at all, but decided to pick his battles rather than arguing the right of way with all of them simultaneously, so he nodded as well.

“Then,” Emeralaphine continued, “the portal and its own inherent security will have to interface with the ward network in his chambers, which it goes without saying is designed to prevent intrusions.”

“Didn’t he just…walk in there?” Vadaralshi comments. “As, like, an actual plain-as-beans mortal?”

“Yes, and I have questions about that,” Emeralaphine agreed, staring down her nose at Kaln.

He smiled blandly, not about to touch this.

After a moment she shorted. “Fine, keep your secrets; heavens know we each have our own. It just goes to show, no security system can ever be perfect. But Atraximos was a defensive thinker and his were as close to airtight as it is possible to be. I presume, further, that a similar level of defensive and concealment magic exists upon this…drop point at the other end. Correct?” She pointed her nose at Izayaroa, narrowing her eyes.

The black dragon nodded graciously. “Of course. And before anyone bothers to ask, I am happy to consign this to Kaln’s control. Evidently he is able to seize ownership of dragon-laid enchantments, so upon visiting the site in question he should be able to easily suborn the wards.”

“Right, and that’s the issue,” Emeralaphine continued, flicking her tail irritably. “I can tell you that Atraximos’s wards were designed not only to repel general intrusions, but specifically any tampering by dragons, and more specifically the dragon most capable of defeating his magical security. I would be astonished if Izayaroa’s were not likewise focused.”

Izayaroa smiled and said nothing. Emeralaphine gave her a long, sardonic look before continuing.

“So what you are asking is for me to perform the most difficult possible type of magic, integrating new security measures into it in the process, while not only fending off but actively integrating two separate ward networks which are designed to repel me in particular.”

Izayaroa heaved a sigh. “Well, if it is beyond your abilities…”

“Oh, spare me your facile provocations,” Emeralaphine sneered. “Obviously it is within my abilities. But you specified a window of two weeks, with perhaps a couple of repetitions we can risk before the location is given away and it all becomes moot. What you’re describing is a project, something that could keep me occupied for potentially…years. Not that I don’t relish a challenge, but I thought we specifically needed fast, firm, results?”

She swiveled her neck to pan a dissatisfied stare around the lot of them, and flicked her tail irritably.

“Besides, there’s no need to dwell on this when a better solution exists. Just have the boy do it.”

Kaln had been about to chime in with the suggestion that he simply remove both ward networks and have her lay fresh ones at both ends, but at this he paused, blinking.

“I, ah… Perhaps I have given the wrong impression? I can teleport myself, under incredibly specific circumstances. I certainly don’t have the expertise to…”

“Not you, husband,” Emeralaphine clarified, lowering her head nearly to his level and giving him an amused smile. “I am talking about expert help. To do portal magic, we simply need a portal mage. And as luck would have it, Pheneraxa is friends with one.”

“Whoah, hold up, stop,” Vadaralshi interrupted. “Hold everything. I can take obscure dissertations on magical minutia and theoretical physics. But you’re seriously going to stand there and ask me to believe that Pheneraxa has friends?”

Vanimax, who had slunk surreptitiously back into the group, grunted in amusement, grinning. “To be fair, she said ‘one.’ A friend, singular.”

“Okay, that’s a bit less absurd, granted,” Vadaralshi agreed. “But come on.”

Pheneraxa bared her own teeth at them. “A friend is a person who enjoys your company. Would you like me to explain the theory in more detail? I don’t mind coaching you personally; I know the material would be quite abstruse to the two of you in particular.”

“Your idea of ‘coaching’ is just showing us what book you read about it in,” Vanimax retorted.

“I would never do something so rude,” Pheneraxa said. “Unless… Wait. Can either of you actually read?”

“Children!” Izayaroa barked. “Hush. Emeralaphine, are you referring to that wizard who lives nearby?”

“A wizard lives near here?” Kaln asked. “Wait, why would Atraximos have tolerated that?”

“I’m more doubtful that Atraximos would have tolerated one of his offspring befriending a human,” said Tiavathyris. “Or the reverse, for that matter. I took the time to investigate that mortal myself when he moved into the area, and he seems to like people about as much as Atraximos did.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s an asshole,” Vadaralshi agreed cheerfully. “I tried to stop in and say hi, too. Most unbearable person I’ve ever met. Hm…actually, I’m finding it more and more believable that Pheneraxa cuddled up to this guy.”

Pheneraxa started toward her, Vadaralshi puffed up and flared her wings, and Kaln reached out with his mind and slammed both of them bodily to the floor.

“Thank you, husband,” Tiavathyris murmured.

“I can’t speak to the boy’s disposition or how my daughter got on his good side,” said Emeralaphine. “I just know she has snuck out to visit him with some regularity. She may have fooled Atraximos, but I am, not to put too fine a point on it, smarter than he was. And she may not have tried as hard to conceal it from me since I don’t share his simple-minded prejudices. What is actually relevant is that this individual is, indeed, a portal mage. A rather skilled one for his age, if I am any judge. If Kaln takes control of the ward networks and manually prevents them from reacting to him while he works, that might suffice to let him add to them in peace. I am not actually sure the same would be true for me; it would be just like Atraximos to lay an enchantment that rejected tampering by his own consort even if he asked it to.”

“He really doesn’t like to be bothered, though,” Pheneraxa said, getting back up now that Kaln had released her. For a second he’d been worried that he had just sunk his social prospects here, but both sisters seemed to shake it off with no ill will as soon as he relinquished his grip. They really were accustomed to being handled roughly. “There’s a reason he moved to an inhospitable mountain range where his only neighbor was Atraximos the Dread. You don’t hire someone like that; if we go over there asking for a favor he’s just going to cast Hazepfell’s Mocking Barrier and stand there being rude.”

“Kaln owns the hoard of Atraximos the Dread,” Izayaroa said dryly. “I guarantee there is something in there which would tempt a wizard out out of his solitude.”

“I’ll browse through it for some suitably rare doodads,” said Kaln. “Not that I’m an expert on enchanted paraphernalia, but Atraximos kept helpfully detailed notes on everything.”

“He would,” Emeralaphine muttered, curling her lip.

“Apparently it falls to me to raise the obvious objections,” said Tiavathyris. “You are proposing to entrust our security to this…mage, whom none of us save Pheneraxa know? Is not maintaining our secrecy the entire point of this exercise?”

“I do understand your concern,” Izayaroa said, turning to her and dipping her head. Kaln couldn’t help noticing that she showed more courtesy to Tiavathyris than Emeralaphine as a matter of course. “But in this case, pending additional information, I think it will be all right. That this person chose to live so close to us, and that Atraximos allowed it, suggests to me that he is, if not trustworthy, at least not inclined to betray or secrets, nor persuadable.”

“Hmm… I take your point,” Tiavathyris agreed after a moment, nodding.

“I don’t,” said Kaln. “Forgive me if I’m being obtuse, but what about that is reassuring? Doesn’t it just suggest that he had some relationship with Atraximos?”

“Atraximos did not have relationships with any mortals, husband,” Izayaroa said in a tone of dark amusement. “Ever, period. His loathing of them was personal and universal. That he allowed this wizard to exist in our proximity means two things: he did not consider the man a threat, and he considered him too dangerous to challenge without pressing need. Paradoxical, I know, but that is the only combination of traits which ever prompted him to ignore a mortal in his vicinity.”

“Ergo,” Emeralaphine added, “there’s no one he’ll be inclined to tattle to, and if it’s unlikely anyone could entice or coerce him.”

“This is…a portal mage, right?” Kaln said doubtfully. “Isn’t that the whole point? Why would someone with that specialty be dangerous enough to scare off Atraximos the Dread?”

All six dragons grinned in amusement, and Kaln found he had already grown sufficiently accustomed to them that the sight was annoying rather than horrifying.

“It is often asked by the ignorant,” Emeralaphine intoned, “which is the most dangerous kind of magic in a fight. There are two answers. The first is that the premise of the question itself is invalid, because such contests are almost always decided by whichever mage has the element of surprise, foreknowledge of their opponent’s skills, and the ability to prepare tailored counterspells. The second answer is portal magic.”

“Give some thought, Kaln,” Izayaroa added, “to what sort of carnage you could unleash with a bit of imagination and the ability to instantly connect any two points in physical space.”

“I could do without ever seeing another lake dumped out of the sky onto an army,” Tiavathyris murmured, “or someone’s lungs filled with topsoil.”

“I doubt Atraximos was afraid of him as such,” Emeralaphine added, “but even with all his defensive power, a battle like that would have been at absolute minimum incredibly annoying, and quite possibly legitimately dangerous. One does not live to be an elder dragon by picking unnecessary fights with the relatively few opponents who could pose a real threat if they chose.”

“Okay,” Kaln said slowly. “Then…I guess…we have a plan?”

“I would have preferred keeping this in the family, as it were,” Izayaroa said with a soft huff, “but I suppose there’s little point in asking Emeralaphine to handle our magical affairs if we do not take her advice. If she thinks this course is best, we should probably accede.”

Emeralaphine sniffed and raised her nose again, but thankfully did not snipe back.

“Great,” Vanimax said sourly. “Then will we finally be done accommodating the absurd whims of this creature?”

“Actually, this just squares away his food supply,” said Emeralaphine, grinning at him. “Then he needs to do something to placate Hii-Amat.”

“He what?” Tiavathyris demanded.

“We’re assuming it’s Hii-Amat,” Kaln clarified. “At least, Emeralaphine is; I know nothing about her. It was…during my apotheosis. I survived in part because a deity reached out to help me. The Nine and the local four both refused, but she intervened.”

“Did they,” Izayaroa stated in a terrifyingly neutral tone. “Well. This sheds some light on Anessima, at least. If she left you to perish in your moment of greatest need, she may—somewhat reasonably—fear retaliation now that you occupy a seat of significant power, husband. A mere reassurance may suffice to end any hostilities which may be brewing there. About Hii-Amat I have less advice; she is a very young goddess and extremely specific in her interests. I have never troubled to learn much about her, despite her proximity.”

“Ooh, that’s easy!” Vadaralshi said brightly, actually bouncing in place. “Hii-Amat is a sweetie as deities go. We’ll just go bring some fresh meat to the Hiiri tribe I know. They’ll probably throw us a festival! You’ll like the Hiiri, Kaln, they’re the most sociable little critters. I’ve been visiting ‘em for years. Actually…that should be a lot easier now that the old bastard’s dead! He had such a bug under his tail about being nice to people.”

“I think it was the ‘people’ to which he objected,” Pheneraxa commented solemnly. “‘Nice’ is a concept I don’t believe he even understood.”

“That’ll be tomorrow’s business, then,” Kaln said. “The wizard, I mean, not the Hiiri. It’s too late in the evening to go visiting, but that works out fine. I’ll need time to scrounge up something to bribe him with, anyway, and a night’s sleep and breakfast first would probably not go amiss. You make this guy sound like something of a trial to deal with.”

“Accurate,” Pheneraxa said, grinning.

“I recommend you go alone with Pheneraxa,” Emeralaphine added. “She is probably the only living person with whom he is on friendly terms; you will need that for an introduction. And conveniently, she will also be able to provide you with transportation.”

Pheneraxa’s grin instantly vanished. “What? You’re not suggesting he ride me?”

“Oh, I think you’re old enough,” Izayaroa commented, smiling.

Pheneraxa turned and hissed aggressively at her. For some reason, so did Vadaralshi. Izayaroa, fortunately, seemed to find this amusing. As did Tiavathyris.

“Don’t be petulant,” Emeralaphine ordered, thumping her daughter with her tail. “Your father is dead and his obsessive antipathies with him, and good riddance to both. There is nothing shameful about carrying someone on your back, if they’re worth befriending. You are a dragon; there is nothing shameful about anything you choose to do. The concept of shame is attached to that which is by definition beneath you. Even were he not a godling and head of this family, Kaln is a most agreeable mortal.”

There were parts of that philosophy with which Kaln took issue, but he decided this was not the time or place to begin disabusing his new family of any notions of dragon supremacy.

“It’s most kind of you to say so, my lady wife,” he said instead, smiling at her and executing a graceful bow. “Then with that, we have a plan.”