dark, and sometimes they bring trolls.”
41
I considered the problem for a moment, eying the layout of the camp.
Yeah, the shadows cast by the wagons would make it hard to keep watch, and
the tree line wasn’t that far away. Come to think of it, weren’t medieval people
usually night-blind from some kind of vitamin deficiency?
“That’s a tricky problem,” I told him. “I could set a ward around the camp
to detect motion and sound an alarm, but we’d get a lot of false alarms from
wandering animals. I can shape earth, but building a wall and ditch substantial
enough to slow down trolls would be quite a project. Hmm. What about setting
traps? I could turn some patches of ground around the camp into stone spikes,
like a field of caltrops. One goblin might sneak past, but if a bunch of them try
it some of them are bound to hit a patch.”
His eyes glinted in the firelight. “I like the sound of that. The little
bastards always pitch a fit when they get hurt, and trolls are worse. Alright, I’ll
detail a squad to escort you while you set it up. How long will that take?”
“Maybe twenty minutes.”
He nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate the consideration you’ve been
showing the men, sir. Most wizards would put up a lot of fuss about ‘wasting’
their time and magic on common folk.”
“Yes, well, I try to be more practical than that. For all I know the soldier
I save today may be guarding my back tomorrow. But I’d better get this done
before it gets completely dark.”
I was surprised how nervous it made me to leave the circle of wagons as
the sun set, with shadows already pooling under the trees where anything might
be lurking. But sergeant Thomas showed up momentarily with a half-dozen
burly fighting men in tow, and they seemed to know their business. It took a
few minutes longer than expected, but I got a nice irregular ring of traps laid in
just as the last sliver of sun dipped below the trees.
Then I was back to my own little camp, to enjoy my first taste of Avilla’s
cooking. She greeted me with a cheery smile, handing me a wooden bowl of
dark stew along with a generous hunk of bread. I wondered for a moment how
she’d managed to produce it so fast, since the recipes I’d seen for such things
always took hours.
Then I took my first bite. I paused to stare at the spoon.
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“How is it?” She asked nervously. Cerise rolled her eyes, but was too
busy wolfing down her own portion to comment.
“Well,” I said consideringly, “If my wizard gig ever falls through we can
always get you a job as some king’s personal chef.” I suddenly suspected this
was what she’d meant when she said she was a ‘hearth witch’, but there were
too many ears around us to ask about that now.
She giggled. “Oh, master, you’re such a flatterer.”
I might have replied, but I was too hungry for banter with a meal like this
waiting for me. By the time the three of us were done there was no need to
clean the bowls, because every particle of food was gone.
By then it was snowing lightly, and the wind had picked up a bit. The
girls retreated into the covered space of the wagon, re-packing their bags and
beginning to unroll the blankets we’d brought along to serve as bedrolls.
I was bone tired, and most of me wanted nothing more than to crawl into
the wagon and go to sleep. But events were moving too fast for that.
“I’ve got a few things to take care of before bed,” I told them. “I’ll be
along in a bit, but don’t bother waiting up for me.”
“Seriously?” Cerise gave me a surprised look. “I’m about to pass out, and
I haven’t done anything today compared to you.”
Avilla cuddled up behind her, and slipped a hand under her blouse with a
giggle. “Aw, is my poor little kitten all wilted? Maybe I can perk you up.”
Cerise squeaked in surprise, but made no effort to get away. I chuckled,
and resolved to give the young lovers some time to themselves.
“I’m sure you’ll manage, Avilla. Give her a few licks for me while you’re
at it.”
“Hey!”
I left Cerise blushing and stammering in Avilla’s arms, and went off to
find a spot to work. Sorcery didn’t seem to require much in the way of
materials or rituals, but I still didn’t want anyone getting too good a look at
what I was about to attempt. Not to mention that being interrupted might not be
entirely safe.
43
Fortunately the majority of the camp was already bedding down for the
night, leaving just a few guards up and about. I suppose peasants would be
used to going to bed with the sun in a place like this, and there wasn’t much to
do in the dark anyway. I saw a few couples sharing blankets here and there,
their activities studiously ignored by their neighbors.
It was cold, but my cloak was as warm as an electric blanket. With the
hood up I wasn’t especially recognizable either, and no one bothered me as I
made a slow circuit of the camp. I sorted out the details in my head, digging
through the instinctive skills that had been dumped into my mind looking for
any options that I’d missed. There was some interesting stuff there, but most of
it either wasn’t relevant or would take far too much time.
Finally I settled myself against a wagon wheel, and turned my new senses
inward.
So far I’d been using my flesh element entirely for healing, and I started
out by continuing that trend. The trickle of power from my amulet was far
larger than the energy output of a human body, and it took only a few minutes to
wash away most of the physical fatigue left by the long day’s exertions. The
mental fatigue was another matter, but I’d be able to sleep soon enough.
Once that was done I dug deeper, reaching for the flesh-element analogue
of the shaping ability I’d already applied to stone.
Living tissue can’t just be sculpted like clay, of course. There are
millions of little details that have to be carefully managed through any change
in physical form, from the placement of nerves and blood vessels to the
alignment of muscle fibers and attachment points of tendons. Not to mention the
delicate complexity of the matrix of individual cells, which can’t just be
stretched or compressed much without killing them.
As a result shaping flesh was a slow process, more a matter of coaxing
the body to grow in the desired manner while augmenting its natural abilities
with magic. I could see that the subject’s genetics still played an important role
in the process, although my own will could exert considerable influence. It
was also a very energy-intensive process, and my little power tap would be a
real limiting factor if I ever tried something ambitious.
Fortunately, tonight I was just after one of the easier transformations. A
career as a desk jockey had left me in poor shape for marching in snow or
44
fighting off monsters, and I could imagine dozens of ways that lack could get
me or the girls killed. We’d been lucky so far, but I couldn’t count on that to
continue. So my first attempt at a physical transformation was a shaping to
make myself stronger.
The shaping mimicked the effects of actual exercise, only a few thousand
times faster. Every muscle in my body twitched violently, vibrating with
energy as a dull burn suffused them. I added a secondary flow to keep the