Earth Gate (Wine of the Gods Book 17) Read online

  The Lieutenant sat back, looking a bit pale. "How far . . . ?"

  Yoderite shrugged. "Oh, five hundred miles or so."

  Eight or nine hundred kilometers. And Farofo's four times that. Jaime shivered. What is the lieutenant going to do . . . if Yoderite can make one. What will I do if she can open a gate? Damn it all, can't Earth trade instead of invade? It seems to work just fine with Purple. But as far as I can tell, nowhere else.

  Five minutes down the road, Hed swung the horses off to the right onto hard stony ground free of brush to impede them. He walked them around the nose of a small hill and out of sight of the road. Bare rock. A few stunted trees in cracks. "Good enough?" He called down.

  Yoderite leaned across Marquis to look out, then called back. "Looks good."

  Marquis was a bit red when she straightened.

  Lieutenant, you are being played, don't fall for the tease! Jaime glanced toward Beige. And Private Felis? You recognize trouble in three pretty packets, right? Watch yourself. The thought that none of the three was as attractive as Neptunite crept into his mind, closely followed by but she's not here . . .

  The horses stopped and the other man—Sundo?—opened the door.

  They all climbed out.

  Yoderite fanned herself. "My, it is hot! Ahmad, be a sweetie and carry this picnic basket over to those trees. We can sit in the shade and compare notes on opening gates."

  Beige smirked. "We don't dare talk about it in front of the parents. Those people in Ash are trying to control the knowledge about opening gates. But if Q can do it, I can do it."

  Yoderite nodded agreement.

  The two redheaded men were nodding as well. They were unharnessing the horses as if they were expecting to stay a long time.

  Opportunity alert!

  "Keeping it all to themselves, eh? That would make me mad, too." Jamie took the blanket folded on top of the substantial basket and led the way to the scrubby trees and scant shade.

  The lieutenant gave him a dark look as he lugged the heavy basket.

  "Now, I've made a list of comments I've overheard." Yoderite sat gracefully on the blanket. "They have to find something they called 'tops' or 'cones' to make the gates with. And then 'bump them to slow them down.' And I heard Q talking about cracks and canyons."

  "Crumpled paper worlds." Beige put in. "I've heard her say that. And I think they need two tops."

  Yoderite poked around the basket, and pulled out a bottle of white wine, glasses and a corkscrew. Tressa joined her, looking in the basket and pulling out fine china plates and dainty sandwiches, a bowl of strawberries and another of grapes. They sat and nibbled, and talked nonsense about what they'd overheard. Sundo and Hed joined them, acting now like equals.

  "We're both mages, but the Archmage went off in a huff and now we can't get any proper training."

  Hed nodded. "We've gone a couple of times out to Rip Crossing for mage training, and tried the Wizard school, but we don't have the wizard gene."

  Beige gestured with her sandwich. "Their father is Edmund Vice, the God of Vice. They ought to be able to do gates. But no one will train us. They keep saying we need to get better at ordinary things first."

  "And I'm two years older than Quicksilver and she's been making gates for years." Tressa put in, soft voiced.

  "We're a year older than Rustle was when she invented the gates." Beige snorted angrily. "So we're darn well going to do it. Right here."

  Yoderite nodded. "Today. It's time."

  Beige waved around at them. "So we've got a triad of Halfmoons, and four men. Not a Compass, but I've heard that four can work together just as well."

  Tressa looked dubiously at Marquis. "I don't know about using men without magic . . . "

  Marquis stiffened. "I can do anything the others can do."

  Because you look at me and see a lowly private who's spent the last twenty years consorting with natives. You look at Sundo and Hed and see servants. They're playing a game, acting the role. Can't you see that? They're mages.

  Tressa smiled. "Want me to put a spell on you, so you can?"

  Jaime sat up in alarm. "That's not a very good . . . "

  Marquis snorted. "Certainly. I always wanted to be a wizard."

  Tressa glowed suddenly and flicked a handful of potential at Marquis.

  Who laughed. "You ought to put on a better show." The lieutenant reached for a dainty sandwich and finished it off in two bites. "So . . . let's make a gate."

  The three witches kicked off their shoes and walked over to stand on solid rock.

  Hed snorted. "Men need heat to work. C'mon out here." He walked out into the bright sun, his brother following him. They faced each other, and Hed waved Jaime over to one side and Marquis to the other.

  Sundo pulled out a knife and nicked his wrist. Handed the knife to Jaime.

  He stared at it.

  "Do your left wrist, just a couple of drops is enough."

  Psychological or physical? Or . . . Magic.

  Jaime pressed the point of the knife into his wrist, just nicking the skin. He passed the knife to Hed.

  Marquis stared at them in disbelief. Looked at the knife. "God only knows what diseases . . ." He pricked his wrist and handed the knife to Sundo.

  They held hands, wrist to wrist, sticky blood . . . glowing power. A stream of glowing power circling through the four of them. Flaring up around the two natives, dimming and dropping when it reached Marquis. I wonder what I look like, to them?

  :: You have a good strong glow. And no training at all? ::

  Jaime blinked. The voice had been in his head, not audible. Can I talk like that? :: None at all. ::

  And received something that felt like a mental grin in return. :: Quick study. Hold the flow of power steady and level, speed it up if you can. ::

  The other two glows reached out toward Marquis, carrying more of the load as power spun through them. Faster. Jaime pictured it streaming through him level, smooth, and fast. And felt something beyond mental words. He slid into emotions and determination. Reaching out to a fizzing electric blue. My dream! He took a deep breath. Not drowning. Swimming.

  There was a distracting glow off to the side.

  :: The witches. An unbalanced situation, us versus them. ::

  Jaime pictured the four of them surrounding the women . . .

  Unvocalized agreement.

  They edged over. Jaime dropped Sundo's wrist, and edged around the women. Stretched to reach him again. The power built up again pouring around the circle, feeding into a peak at the center, electric blue, bubbles rushing upward . . .

  :: Look closer. What are these 'tops' they spoke of? :: One of the guys.

  An effect like zooming in and slo-mo all at once. Now bubbles, close and large, a dozen in sight, flowing upward . . .

  They all saw it at once. A cone. Spinning like a miniature tornado. They reached for it, jerked away from the slash of its fast spinning surface.

  :: Bump them to slow them down. That's what Rustle said. ::Was that Yoderite? It was so hard to tell, as if their surface thoughts were all merging.

  Jaime winced away again, looked at all the bubbles . . . :: Hit it with a bubble? ::

  A bubble nudged that way, touched it and flew off, ricocheting off other bubbles. They threw more, then Jaime seized one and tried to hold it against the cone. Got bounced and jounced around, but it slowed it. Turned it toward them, and the flat top leaped toward them.

  Jaime opened his eyes and looked beyond the circle. A glowing white area.

  He closed his eyes. The cone was right there.

  :: Over there. See that curve, the corner, and bend? :: Paler blue than the fizzing electric blue. An impression of stars, planets, mountains and oceans, trees and grass . . .

  Someone . . . Tressa? Grabbed the point of the cone and pulled it over to the crumpled paper world. It retracted.

  :: Tops, they said tops, plural. :: Back into the fizz. Homing in on another cone. Grabbing a bubble to slow it, sho
ving the flat part toward the crumple, then pulling the point to meet the point of the first cone. The points wound up around each other, the flat pounced on the crumple . . .

  The merge broke.

  Beige collapsed.

  Marquis jerked loose, shaking his head.

  Jaime released his grip and stepped back looking at the white glow, behind Marquis. Spinning and sparkling now. "Well, is that a gate?"

  "What?" Lieutenant Marquis stepped away, turning . . . too close. The whirlpool sucked him in.

  "Oops." Yoderite bit her lip. "He wasn't really magic, he couldn't see it."

  Tressa sniffed. "He's got the genes now. He'll start to feel things, probably. Eventually."

  The lieutenant exploded back through the white whirlpool. Screaming, bleeding. Beak, scales, feathers . . . Jaime's instant impression of the predator was erased as it was hit by a fireball, even as it fell into pieces. Yoderite, Sundo and Hed had their left hands out . . . paused. Nothing else came through the gate.

  Jaime hustled over to Marquis, who'd stopped to look back once he'd found a tree to hide behind. Long deep scratches down his back. "Holy crap, let me get some compression on these, going to need stitches . . . "

  "Oh, don't be silly." Beige marched up, drinking from a brass flask. Over her swoon, apparently. "Drink this."

  Jaime watched the bleeding stop, the shallow ends of the slashes looked to be pulling together a bit . . . Beige just reached and started shoving the edges of the cut together. "Don't just stand there. Press everything together. Start well to the side of the slashes, press deep and then sideways. We need to get the muscles back together even more than the skin."

  Yoderite walked over and frowned down at him. "How are we going to get the gate closed, with one mage out of commission?"

  Jaime poked at the lieutenant's back. It's all pulling back together. "I think you need to lay down and let us work on your back."

  Jaime backed away. The women seemed to know what to do. He glanced at Sundo and Hed. They both grinned, and jumped through the gate. Jaime swallowed, straightened his shoulders and followed.

  A twisting wrench, worse than the corridor, but nothing like the Earth's gate.

  Patchy forest and grasslands. The buzz of insects, cheeps of birds. A flash of movement up in a tree. Large dark lumps moved, way out in a grassy clearing. A head lifted, Long muzzle, and a crest sticking out the back, like a hammer head on a long camel's neck. Jesse blinked and squinted. One stepped out into plain sight. Lifted the front legs and balanced on the heavier rear as it looked at them. Long balancing tail, but that was no kangaroo. Hadrosaur.

  "Dinosaurs?" Jaime swallowed. "Umm, you guys do know how to close a gate, don't you?"

  They looked at each other, and shuffled their feet. "We've heard a few things . . . "

  Jaime turned at movement in the corner of his eye . . . Yoderite. Tressa popped out of the gate behind her.

  "Is Ahmad all right?"

  Yoderite giggled. "Of course, and Beige, silly thing, drank some of the wine because she swooned."

  Tressa rolled her eyes. "They needed some privacy."

  Jaime blinked, remembering the orgy in the harem that had followed wholesale distribution of the magic wine. "Right. So . . . Tell me about closing gates. I don't think a gate that dinosaurs can wander through is a good idea."

  Yoderite pursed her lips. "They said something about using another top."

  "Right. So we need to get together again . . . as soon as Marquis is up to it."

  The girls tittered, and the guys guffawed.

  Jaime sighed. "Really. Dinosaurs are such a bad idea."

  Hed and Sundo swapped grins.

  "Oh? And you're not the least bit curious about what they taste like?" Hed rubbed his hands together and eyed the oversized herbivores. "Can't be more than half a mile away. Let's check them out."

  Jaime surveyed all around. No signs of any other hungry bird-dinos. Nor a T-rex or any such. He eyed Yoderite and Tressa. "If you ladies will guard the gate and not let any dinosaurs through, perhaps I should go and make sure the mighty hunters make it back in one piece."

  Yoderite snickered. "They may not have had regular or advanced training, but they are miles ahead of you. But by all means, go help them bring dinner back."

  Jaime followed the guys' trampled path through the tall grass, keeping alert, and unbuttoning his shirt so he could easily grab his stunner . . . I was going to kidnap a lady, not fight dinosaurs! Why didn't I bring at least a sword? And the guys have even less . . . of course the bird-dino was chopped, burned, and dead before it took two steps after Marquis.

  I need training. I need training.

  Loud honking and hoots ahead. All the dinosaurs were standing upright, some started moving off, others charged at something in the grass. Crashed into an invisible barrier. Honked and hit it a few more times. Hed and Sundo, bent low, scurried into view, dragging a small dinosaur by its two back legs. As they passed, Jaime grabbed the critter's neck and hoisted it off the ground and scrambled after them. Fluffy brown feathers . . . "You guys raided a nest?"

  "Naw, they were out grazing. Yum, yum, tender dino chick for dinner."

  These people are insane.

  The gate was surrounded by stone. The witches waved them through the small opening. Jaime dropped the dino and watched as the witches stepped through the doorway. The rock rose up and sealed them in. Like clay, or plastic.

  One more thing to add to the list of things I want to be able to do. Molding rock like clay.

  "Just in case we have trouble closing the gate." Yoderite winked at him and hopped through. Jaime followed Tressa.

  Hed and Sundo were butchering the dino, so Jaime wandered about collecting branches fallen from the stunted trees.

  He couldn't see Beige or the lieutenant, but the carriage was rocking.

  He shook his head and dragged all the wood out to the center of the rocky clearing. Dredged up old memories and with a little practice managed to "slice" the wood into manageable chunks. One of the first things I learned to do. I ought to have been practicing, all these years. He shaved down a dry stick and touched a match to the shavings.

  Then he wandered back to the bird dino's scattered remains. He found an intact leg and started stripping the feathers off. "Might as well see what this one tastes like, too."

  The aroma of the cooking meat must have brought the lovers back to their senses. Or maybe just simple exhaustion. Marquis sported a pole-axed blank demeanor and didn't seem to be following the conversation very well. But he did eat.

  Seared and barely seasoned . . . Dino chick tasted more like goose than chicken. The carnivore was chewy and tasted . . . like extra strong mutton, perhaps. Fortunately he hadn't cooked much of it. They finished off the remaining dainties in the picnic basket, licked greasy fingers, and then tackled the gate.

  The third cone they found, Jaime accidentally knocked into the entwined cones before he could slow it down, and the whole thing flew apart.

  He blinked at the empty fizz, pulled out of the redheads' grip and looked across the clearing. No gate.

  He heaved a sigh of relief and staggered back to the blanket in search of more edibles.

  They finished off the dinos, disposed of the mess, and harnessed up the horses.

  Jaime was asleep before they got to the road, and was poked awake at the gate to the Fascian Embassy. "Well. That was an exciting and interesting . . . picnic, ladies."

  They giggled and heaved the lieutenant into his arms. Jaime hauled one arm around his neck and the lieutenant was almost walking by the time they got to the door.

  Jaime hauled him straight to the infirmary, where he was diagnosed with low blood sugar, and woken up long enough to drink a glass of syrupy fruit juice, and the pale smooth strips on his back examined. The med tech was a new man, who scoffed when Marquis claimed to have been attacked by a dinosaur and suggested that the Lieutenant must have had too much to drink and had a flashback to the obviously old injur
y.

  Jaime just nodded and headed for bed.

  In the morning, Lieutenant Marquis was denying being diabetic, and he certainly didn't have an insulin regulator. "And I think someone." He glowered at Jaime. "Was amusing himself while I was incapacitated. Look at my shirt! Good grief. Dinosaur my ass."

  Jaime paused. Doesn't he remember the gate? I . . . haven't reported yet . . . Oh. Shit. "Birds are dinosaurs. 'attacked by a big turkey' is so much less . . . err . . . I didn't think I was that drunk. And surely you remember Beige! Good Lord, all afternoon?"

  The man flushed. "Well, yes . . . did she poison me?"

  Jaime raised his eyebrows. "Maybe an allergic reaction? Do you remember us trying to open a gate?"

  "Yee . . . s? There was a knife, and blood, we pricked our wrists . . . "

  "Damn." Jaime tried to look angry. "Maybe there was a hallucinogen on the blade. That would explain a lot."

  The ambassador cleared his throat. "And that was?"

  "I thought I saw the witches open a gate. And the lieutenant fall through. He was attacked by a feathery sort of dinosaur, and jumped back out and the coachman and footman killed it."

  "Ha!" Marquis sat up. "I didn't see anything like that."

  "And then we cooked it."

  "It must have been a small dinosaur." Marquis snorted.

  "Except it tasted a whole lot like turkey, you know?"

  Marquis nodded. "Yeah, that's what it was. Feathered dinosaur. Ha! Damn it, and we can't prove they drugged us, can we?"

  "No." Jaime bit his lip. "We should have known not to let a couple of women set us up. We'll have to . . . "

  The ambassador glared. "Go home. I talked to Captain Orobona early this morning. He said you were obviously too well known, and he'd try again with new people."

  "Oh." Jaime sagged. Thank God. I don't have to confess that I can help make those gates . . . yet.

  So . . . am I going to tell Captain Orobona?

  Am I going to tell the United Earth Intelligence Agency?