Five days later, leaving most of the fields behind for Holly to use, Tor had to figure they were gone, if not into some other project of Holly's, then into the pockets of the people using them. That seemed to be the rule, people just taking the things he made without even bothering to ask about it. If it kept up he might have to start thinking they were valuable or something.
It helped for now, with the clean up and rescue operations. A lot of people didn't have other houses than the ones they'd handed out any more either, and the water system they set up was kind of supporting the whole town. It was about all he had to offer really for the time being. The rest had to be up to each person, caring for themselves and their own.
Staying wouldn't help anyone, so Tor loaded his one case, the one he'd gotten from Sara Debri a long time before, and flew off with Petra and Trice, headed to Warden. This time he could just follow Petra, who actually knew the way, which made it fast and… well, not any more direct, just more certain. A thing he would have lacked going alone. It made him feel a bit better about it, because just setting off and flying long distances was always a little spotty until you knew the way.
The city was pretty in the daylight, he decided. White and green were the main colors, with a smattering of rust red and yellow just to keep things interesting. It radiated life. Friendliness.
They were all shielded and armed, the fields were all on stone, which was cheap for him, but high quality, because the fields would last longer. Regardless, these shields would stop light and electricity and using what he'd learned from that, he made it so that it wouldn't just stop death dust and other tiny particles. It created controlled fields of hyper intense heat to cook them before they could make contact. Searing, but on such a tiny scale you almost didn't notice it, except that the shield flared purple to let you see it happening. He'd built that in, to let them know if an attack started. It was kind of pretty, since there were little things in the air part of the time, and on rare occasion one would hit you by chance. He'd nearly freaked the first time, thinking it was the Austrans, but it seemed to be everywhere. Every now and again you'd notice a single little flash or two.
The weapons were reworked too, so that if they started to be blocked by a shield they'd shift to something else, until the weapon got through. That required a built in feedback mechanism, which was the hard part. You could also pick a given weapon type by hitting the glowing sigil for it along the stone rectangle. They were pretty lethal though, so he had to caution against using them carelessly. It was better than nothing, or being stuck, faced with someone wearing a really good shield and holding the wrong weapon in your hand, one that would do nothing. This gave you eight options, two of which would go through even his own shields, well, the old ones at least. He wasn't giving the new ones out this time, since that kept backfiring on him. Well, to Trice and Petra, and maybe a few other people, since if they attacked him, he wouldn't want them hurt by mistake. But no one else. If Smythe attacked him again, the man was going down.
As they flew in to the park in front of the palace, and the Wards estate was that, without a doubt. A beautiful thing in the daylight, white and gold, edging reminding him of a royal’s wedding cake. Easily as large as the King’s dwelling now that he saw it in real light and from slightly above.
Petra waived them down, so they could land near a marble fountain in a paved white stone courtyard. That's what Tor thought it would be called at least. But… a courtyard had to have walls, didn't it? This was surrounded by short, perfectly trimmed grass, palm trees growing in rows along the outer edges and some low bushes that seemed well groomed. They were notable mainly because their broad leaves had stark red shot through them. Pretty but a little freaky looking too.
“We should walk from here, I think. I… don't know what kind of greeting Marvin and Maria will have for me. They may send me away from the city. Maria really hates me…” Petra looked grim, her face set, like she expected to be humiliated by her family in front of her friends.
Tor set up the follow along fields on the luggage and took her hand gently, giving it a squeeze. It was an awkward thing, trying to work with both their shields, but it was the idea that counted. He hoped. Really he didn't know what to do with her now that they'd been together like they had. Was he supposed to keep it secret, act like it didn't matter at all, as if nothing had happened, or treat her as special and wonderful all the time? His inclination was to shower her with gifts and kisses, but no one acted like that. Not royals at least. He was one of them now, so needed to act correctly.
So for someone of her station that meant what? Sleep with her mother? It was a funny thought, but Tor wasn't sure it was an actual joke. The rules were just so incredibly different now.
The walk didn't take long, even at the slow speed they were going, barely a crawl, because Petra didn't want to set off any guards that might be in place. Not because they were dangerous, but just to protect them from Tor. The idea got him to stick his tongue out at her.
“Silly. Like I go around hurting people?”
No one came out to greet them, but when they rang the bell the door opened within a minute. The rope amazed Tor. Really it was the first one he'd ever seen that went all the way down to the ground on a noble’s home. He could have rung it himself with no problem. Honestly he could have knelt and made it work without straining.
Most of the others were so high he couldn't reach them without flying, or at least jumping comically. This was much better. It even looked old, so the tradition was in place before, not just something put in once they were dealing with short little him. Not that they'd have changed for that. He was just playing messenger really.
The person opening the door was a woman, one that had familiar golden blond hair, even though it had been cut in a military woman’s bob, and she was wearing considerably fewer clothes than he'd ever seen her in. Collette Coltress, Maria's half sister and Tor's personal friend. Even if they had only met three times before. Four now. Her eyes went wide in recognition, of Petra first, who she gave a warm familial hug. Letting go she quickly started to hug Trice, if not as warmly than at least perfunctorily enough. She stopped when she realized her left arm was gone at the elbow.
“Patricia… What…” She misted up, which seemed genuine enough. Still, he didn’t want Trice feeling sorry for herself. Oh, she had the right, and he'd probably have been curled up in a ball still, sobbing like a child if it had been him, but he couldn't handle a massive sobbing and crying festival right now.
“Don't pity her too much Collette. She lost an arm, but saved nearly two hundred people doing it. That includes the whole royal family, about half the sitting counts and countesses and their spouses and a lot of other people without such lofty titles, including me. She's a hero.” It came out in a rush, but still sounded proud he thought. “It was a steep price, but should be seen as a badge of honor and courage, not something to be pitied.”
Tor lifted his head, trying to look dignified, which was probably hard in his deep red canvas workman's outfit. Collette let a single tear fall but swept Trice into a careful embrace and didn't let her go for a long time.
Then she turned on Tor. There was enough venom in her eyes to make him wince a little.
“And what were you doing during this event?” Her voice had gone chilly, which he could understand, in a weird sort of way. Collette knew that Trice was her confederate, and that the King had ordered them both to be a little anti-Tor around the Wards, but clearly she expected him to have tried to protect her anyway. Even if he was little, and not as good a fighter as she was. Not as physically strong either, though that kind of made him uneasy to think about. All the giants were probably stronger than he was, even the girls, at least the ones that exercised regularly. Which reminded him to get back to his regular running soon. If you had only one edge you couldn't afford to lose it. Or even let it get rusty. Kolb had made sure he knew that lesson well enough back in school.