
The Gateway Expedition: by Kevin Williams

Copyright: 2013 by Kevin Williams.

Smashwords License Statement This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Canadian ISBN: 978-0-9880459-3-4

ISBN: 9781301425235

Author's Note:

Fan-mail, biz, complaints and suggestions to teddyhunter10@gmail.com

Kevin Williams is on

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/packrat2

and https://kevinwillpkgd.tumblr.com

He authors an SF series, Teddyhunter: (about runaway teddybear robots), a few books of short stories, comics and the Aaron+Henna fantasy series. The first in every series is usually a free ebook and there's about 27 books so far.

Aaron+Henna Series:

The Gateway Project

Girl-Ghost!

Aaron+Henna: The Witch-Wizard War

Aaron+Henna: The Singing Sword

Aaron+Henna: The Way of The Rat

Aaron+Henna: The Terrible Twos

Aaron+Henna: Summer Rain

Aaron+Henna: Broken Magics

Aaron+Henna: Dirty Float (June 2019)

***

## chapter 1 you are so dumped

"I'm getting the gate? The Gateway? But nobody has ever survived that!" My stuttered protests about impending exile went ignored. In fact, Master Tomlin looked almost gleeful as he delivered his latest news to me.

"Yes, apprentice Aaron. The Gateway. You are to go there, off to the town of Holmwood and then Gate just beyond. Today, in fact." There was a definite gloat on his face, I could see it. The news was so bad I hardly noticed. "It might finally make a wizard of you." he added dryly, looking peeved for a moment. "Or just be final. I myself couldn't do anything with you."

Very bad news, this. Master Tomlin looked at me from where he was slumped in his favorite chair in our lab like this was another one of my stupid questions, one designed to irk him into doing something foolish like waste more time and energy on me.

"This is really going to cut into my free time." I groaned to myself. The old fool didn't even look very sad at sentencing me to death this way, and I was too stunned to make any coherent protest. He finally looked away.

"Yes. Yes, it will." Master Tomlin sighed and looked sad. "Get ready to go now, please."

Wizard Tomlin had wasted a lot of time in this lab on me over the years, but irking a master wizard was still fairly silly, something done only by cats, apprentices and long-time girlfriends. I fit in the second category and had been that way for years. Or I had been.

Too many years. That was part of the problem, and as of now, I wasn't there anymore. Gulping, I looked around the familiar clutter of the wizard's lab nervously, yanking my errant hair back into place. Promising students of magics got taken on as apprentices to masters, and after a time graduated into their own specialties and practices.

I hadn't graduated into anything over the long years and I'd seen almost everything Master-wizard Tomlin could do. Unfortunately, my own area of magical expertise had never come out in any of my training the way it usually does for most apprentices; just the usual collection of apprentice disasters happened as we tried out magics I wasn't suited for.

Now Master Tomlin had gotten tired of dragging my butt around with him, waiting for something interesting to happen.

He was sending me on a suicide mission instead. The Gateway.

A wizardly solution. He was even quite jovial about it. "No one has survived the Gate to date, but you've been training here long enough to go out on your own and try this, apprentice." Bushy eyebrows quirked at me and I knew I was getting a fast and final boot from my home of the last five years. He rambled on, not looking me in the eyes any more. "Think of it as a challenge far past getting more market herbs. Your task is to solve the Gate mystery and reopen it for safe travel. You leave today to solve it. Now, in fact. Go pack."

Sentence and delayed execution for a failed apprentice, all in one sentence. I nodded, stunned, and stumbled away from the lab nervously, heading clumsily off to the small room I'd been living in at the back of the house while trying to adjust to the new task I'd just gotten assigned.

Suicide. Actually, being sent away was an act of kindness from him. Bumbling and slow apprentices usually ended up dying in spectacular mishaps or as dead messengers to dragons, or something equally fatal.

Master Tomlin was giving me the chance to run away and live instead of walking an insulting message into the nearest warlord's home.

Whether or not I even went to the gate after I got tossed from the house was questionable and he knew it. I mean, how many people would take on a quest that no-one had ever survived just because their master told them to do it?

No one smart enough to be a wizard's apprentice, that's for sure.

I shuddered. The Gate was an old, old horror story that no one had ever been able to fix. It was a legend and a torture in the craft. Some long-ago wizard had made a gateway into another dimension. A brisk trade opened up between the two worlds.

Lots of money flowing both ways had attracted governments, bandits, warlords and wizards on both sides of the gate like flies to a corpse; demons and whatnot were in the middle of it all, protesting the tunnel thru their lands.

Lots of them. The demons had eventually won the ownership dispute and sealed the gate shut.

The land around the town of Holmwood soured, so to speak, as the gate suddenly became a hole into which everything traveling thru it disappeared with screams and nasty crunching sounds.

Not a soul came back from a trip thru the gate. It had refused all efforts to even re-open for the last several hundred years.

That had cut traffic down considerably. Not many people even survived standing beside the Gate for very long as it was bubbling demonic energy occasionally now. Today, nobody was even mildly interested in trying to get where the Gate was, as it was stuck outside the small town of Holmwood, in the middle of some badlands surrounded by lots of now increasingly desperate bandits.

Unless you were interested in watching a spectacular suicide as another failed apprentice tried to fix things.

A few more things got explained when I got to my room. My sparse collection of worldly goods were piled up in the center of the floor by my master's new apprentice and the room was being redecorated.

She was a female. Very female, in fact.

Tiny, perky, cute, dimpled, very curvy, had a little snub nose and was someone I recognized as a local girl connected to a powerful family somehow. As an ex-girlfriend, I think. Or maid, or something. And she was already moving her fairly pink and fluffy stuff into my room.

Not your typical wizard's apprentice, really. She giggled. I looked twice at her as she inhaled, smirked and dimpled at me from her post by an already-empty bookshelf. I groaned. This was why I was being exiled to the gate. Master Tomlin had a new apprentice and a very cute one at that.

I was dead in more ways than I could count.

It was obvious what Master Tomlin was doing. This girl hadn't seen her feet in years and was more than gloatingly smug about her various other female attributes.

"Oh, sorry. You're apprentice Aaron? I thought you were already gone." She simpered at me with a quiet, malicious little grin. It sounded like she was trying to smother her giggles with rattles from the collection of large clunky jewelry she was wearing. It wasn't working very well. "I'm glad you're here. I was about to throw your old stuff out."

I could see some of my books were already missing from the heap, but I wasn't all that worried about that. Everything was protected. I was wizard enough for that, anyway. And possibly some small revenge too, as I sputtered helpless outrage at her. As soon as anybody but me tried to remove anything from the room.

Revenge was the key. After all, the sabre was still tacked to the wall over the small firepit, still gleaming and still heavily booby-trapped. All I had to do was leave it and whatever boyfriend grabbed it off the wall first would find out what happened to the snoopy types in wizardly homes. Ones that were grabbing weapons, anyway.

Snoops that invaded even mildly magical areas deserved quick lessons in manners.

Everyone goes for the weapons while invading a wizard's den, hoping for the grand prize I guess. What they don't know is that Wizards booby-trap all their important things; a wizard's apprentice's first lesson is in how to find and disarm those traps. If they didn't, every thief in the country would be lining up to relieve wizards of magical swords, potions and anything else they could find with a resale value.

I was already twice-stunned when the geas hit me from behind; it took me hard before I could do anything about it and I could feel things getting twisted inside me as magic took hold.

I whirled around to find Wizard Tomlin looking sadly back at me from where he'd followed me to my room. He was holding an old rucksack in one hand; the other was still raised and pointing at me.

A good apprentice would've had shields to prevent that sort of foolishness, but my magical cloaks tended to cook whatever was inside of them when they were hit with magical attacks.

Then explode. Shield-magic was not my strong point; Master Tomlin knew it and took full advantage of that.

I tried to check out the spell as best I could as it settled in on me. Things were happening a little rapidly today, but I tried. The geas was a magical order, one of the obsessive-compulsive-fixated types of magics. I was being ordered to travel to the Gateway right now, no other choices given. My wizardry was twisted to do nothing but that, and would refocused on gate-magic when I got there.

And I got connected to the gate magically, somehow. The compulsion to go there was irresistible and my legs were twitching already. I had to start traveling.

The elderly wizard Tomlin, my ex-master, looked at me, sighed wearily and made a quick pass at the junk collected in the center of the room; everything lying there bounced up and flew into the sack he was holding in a rapid-fire thumping stream.

Well, most of it. The borrowed books stayed behind, still on the floor. In seconds I was packed and ready to go.

"Pick up some travel-supplies in the kitchen on your way out. You might not be able to stop for anything else for a while." My master grinned slightly at me. "Go easy on the cheese, we don't have much left." was all he had to add.

Wizard Tomlin winked at his new apprentice, got simpered and dimpled at in return, then wheeled about and left us both quietly standing there. "I will miss the smell of singed hair, apprentice." His voice came floating back. "Not much, but it will remind me of you when you're gone."

That was a reference to my power going wild. It did do a lot of incidental damage to my beard on occasion.

It stayed quiet in the room, which was already half newly-decorated. I think the quiet noises I was hearing was the new apprentice was still trying to smother her giggling. Snorting at the girl, I picked up the straw mattress from the bed and dug out a few coins I had stashed in there, all I'd been able to save while working with my master. My ex-master. It wasn't much.

She didn't have anything to say to that. The bracelet on her wrist was probably worth more than everything I had and we both knew it.

The geas I'd been hit with slowly sunk in. The final magical insult. I was being commanded to the Gate, commanded like I was a peasant. Master Tomlin wasn't taking any chances I'd do something embarrassing like hang around town trying to make a living doing small peasant magics.

"I'm Shelly." The girl turned away and resumed the process of feminizing the room, which included opening the window as far as it would go to air the thatch roof out as much as possible.

The room had a low window, easy to sneak in and out of. She did keep the ledge clear, I noticed. Also, some of the outside Athena plants under the window and been cleared away to make a small path thru them. She was expecting visitors, apparently. "Goodbye, apprentice Aaron. Good luck." was all she said. Then another small giggle escaped her lips.

"Thanks." Picking up the rucksack, I slipped it on my back and grabbed my staff from the corner. The geas was a good one. I was already getting twitchy, wanting to leave and get started on my trip. The go-go-go was kicking in already.

I had to start walking, and in a certain direction, and I couldn't prevent it. Getting outside fast before any inconvenient walls got in my way was now a top priority. Like most wizards Master Tomlin had very practised ways of commanding whatever he wanted done from the lowers. Apprentices included, apparently.

It was a stiff magic, too. I barely was able to force myself to stop for food supplies. I was on the far side of town and traveling downhill fast within the hour.

Oh, and the sabre did get left behind, still tacked to the wall. I was proud of that trap. Every sneaky-type visitor goes for glitter first. Sneaks like visiting boyfriends, I hoped. Besides, I didn't want to look like a barbarian mercenary on this trip and carrying a sword would do that for you. After all, I was a Wizard's apprentice, not a merchant or a warrior. I wanted to look the part if I could.

The cat was the only person in the house to walk me to the door. He was going to miss me, but he was the only one.

***

## chapter 2 herbs in the hills

Henna the red-haired sat in the badlands sun on her lonely green hilltop and cursed her miserable fate, the handful of smelly weeds in her hand and life in general. Heartily. She was sick and tired of doing things like this.

A lone 16 year old girl living with a not-so-successful bandit brother in an ex-farm-village turned bandit camp was no place for a young girl with big hopes. The crops in the garden patches were always bad. Raiding was the only thing that made life bearable out here. Bandits were not good husband material and the green hills were boring.

She was almost the only single female in camp too, actually, thou a few of the weirder thugs did surprisingly good imitations of various famous females. Henna cringed at that thought.

The more desperate flowers and followers (bandit female impersonators) were starting to ask her for pointers now; one of the problems was she didn't have many to give them.

There had been a severe shortage of practice-objects in her life here in the badlands, let alone love-objects. She gloomed around her at the sea of grass she was surrounded by; gathering herbs to eat alone in the sun wasn't much fun either.

Henna glanced around the sea of grey-green grass, brown barren earth patches and sky surrounding her and winced again. Stuck in the badlands, where every oasis had it's collection of runaway desperadoes loitering around looking for something to loot. Mostly runaway peasants trying not to impale themselves with the swords they'd stolen, really, but still bandits. By the Gateway to hell. An inter-dimensional gate which liked to barf out nasty demon explosions every once in a while.

Life got interesting when that happened, but only to the people standing nearby the gate. Beside a small town that boasted of a bookstore and the world's largest collection of retired bandits as it's only claim to high commerce.

Not a good place for a young witch. It was bad enough she had to cook and clean in her brother's miserable tent. No one could afford a hut in the bandit camp anymore. It would've gotten used as firewood the first winter that came along anyway. Plus it was getting harder to duck the harsh attentions of the other bandits, who weren't all that choosy about female company, (real girls or not) they got in the first place.

She shuddered. A lifetime of bandits in bandit camps had made her very, very good at avoiding things. Most of the muggers in the camp were of the smash-and-grab type; easy to avoid and after a few failed experiments with making herself appear distasteful, (which had turned out to be very attractive to the distasteful types), nastier than her neighbors, (almost successful there, thou applied treachery was not skills with arms) and other bandits activities had left her with a permanent abhorrence for potatoes, dung fires and sad, burly men with broken features.

Being her brother's nursemaid after the various attempts at gangsterism was bad enough. Henna stamped a small foot at the herbs in her hand in annoyance. She also had other, worse duties, like healing and witchery. Feeding and picking up after unhappy, sullen men who weren't very good at applied violence (or farming) wasn't enough. Healing them of work-related accidents wasn't enough.

Today was one of the other duties and she was stuck out here on it. Bright morning sun did nothing to improve her mood. Today she was out in the Badlands by herself, picking herbs, while officially being staked out as live bait for one of the rare traveling merchant caravans that still travelled thru here.

With only ghosts to talk to, too. Life didn't get much worse.

Smoke spotted from distant campfires had got her roused early and shoved out into one of the gullies in the caravan path. There was traffic in the hills, wagons of something waiting to be attacked, and this morning she was supposed to be bait for them.

Policing the battle-field was next on her list of things to do, but only if there was a battle with the merchants first.

Her piteous cries for help were supposed to lure the more gullible caravans into this desolate valley, or at least get a few of the more vicious armed guards in the caravan after her and out of the way. It almost never worked because the only people that came here already knew all about this little trick.

Well, there was the occasional curious guard that came riding out, but they usually didn't live long. They had to survive the herbs she was harvesting, for a start. Ghosts knew the most unusual uses for some fairly innocent-looking flowers. In that way they were useful, she had to admit. There were archers on the ridge protecting her, (There usually weren't any. Attacking a caravan took every able-bodied man and most of the klutzes.) and not fall into a trap first. If the heroes did survive the trip to her, they were usually mostly interested in being rewarded for saving her, or selling her into slavery themselves.

That's when the herbs came in. Henna cursed her miserable fate again and wondered again if living in town as a seamstress... (one of the types of seamstresses in town who specialized in a stranger's underwear. That was what most seamstresses there did for a living.) was as bad as it looked.

Out here in the badlands, competing with the merry widows in town (Lots of bandits in the area made for lots of lonely widows left hanging about town. Bored ones.) was about her only other career option, other than her present one of being a witch, healer and camp-follower for her idiot brother.

And dousing the more persistent of her randy bandit neighbors with her armory of herbs when troubles came up.

The only other lifestyle that's come up for her was being rescued from her current fate-worse-than-death by someone who liked challenges, challenges like finding an even worse fate-worse-than-death than her current one.

A grimace flickered past her almost-pretty face. There was one plus in this. Anyone stupid enough to try and rescue her had to be stupid enough to fall for her helpless-kidnapped-princess story. She hoped. There had to be at least one of them out there for her, somewhere.

Hopefully it would be soon, too. She was sick and tired of waiting for a man to twist around her finger to show up. There had been lots of time to practice her little please-help-me tale stuck out here herbivoring, that was for sure. Henna the Red was positive that, given a chance, she could be very convincing about her plight to any helpful stranger she could get to listen.

There had been more than a few mornings spent on these hills. Practice made perfect, and ghosts were the only people she had to practice on. They weren't fooled by mortals at all anymore and made for a very tough crowd.

Henna had other chances to practice her story, but they were just the usual exercise in excuses for bandits, and loud usually won there.

She'd fallen asleep out here alone in the badlands sun once and missed a caravan, and hadn't given the signal one was on the way. That the caravan had walked right into a totally unprepared bandit trap wasn't entirely her fault. There were supposed to be other lookouts posted.

The night somebody had taken some of her smellier herbs and tossed them into the stew-pot wasn't her fault, either. Some bandits had bandied something that looked like spices and found out the hard way that her more vicious greens weren't foods that stuck with you for very long.

Henna sighed. Time to get back to basics. There just weren't many chances to try her story out on anyone, and she really needed someone to practice on other than bandit and witch mishaps. That she could do out here, even if she was alone.

The ghosts out here, useful as they were, weren't much of an audience. For story-telling spots, the position of waitress and entertainment at the local inn was already being filled by the inn-keeper's wife and various unhappy slaves, and they were almost professional hecklers who won't let a chance to snipe something like this down pass them by.

The problem was, other than the bookstore, there wasn't really a lot to do in the town, or anywhere else to meet any gullible strangers.

Most of the men she'd met had a very one-way idea of a relationship. You did what they told you to do, then they left. That was as far as it ever went and Henna wanted a lot more than that.

That left the bookstore as the only place to manhunt, and it was usually empty. Unfortunately, the wizardly apprentices that trotted thru town never stayed around long enough for Henna to get a crack at them.

The bookstore had the best collection of books about the gate known to exist. Luckily, most bandits couldn't read so they had no interest in the place.

Unfortunately, there just wasn't a lot of official interest in someplace that'd managed to kill almost everyone who'd every come to study it, and the wizards that did come here were usually old and weirdly focused on their dreams; not types about to get distracted by rescuing any young, local girls from dire and boring fates.

Henna shifted again and looked around her at the grass-scape surrounding her in despair. The local ghosts were her only company out here, and useful as they were, talking to them was like herding cats.

Cats after spending the morning in a catnip patch, really.

Not always coherent enough to gossip about anything that really mattered to her.

***

## chapter 3 go magic geas go

Magic! I had a hard time fooling the geas Master Tomlin had put on me, but I was finding ways. Eventually, and after a lot of learning things the hard way, naturally.

It took me most of a week to get the rules straight, then bent to suit me. It was hell. Obsessive, compulsive, fixated. A geas that wanted fifteen klicks of walking towards a beacon only it knew about and won't substitute anything else for it. You had to walk or the hurting started. You had to walk in a direct line or more pain kicked in. You had to march even if you were tired, sore, hungry or just needed to tie your clothes back on.

Life became an all pain-avoidance ritual, fast. Activities like rest-breaks, lunch, sleeping, slogging around rough terrain... All of the mundane things were secondary to actually picking your feel up and getting another step closer to Gate. Nothing else mattered, even washroom breaks. Till you finally hit your 15 klicks a day, you marched, then you could rest and try and heal whatever you'd hurt on the day.

After 15k, the compulsion in my head subsided to a merely dull ache from raging agony. Till the next sunrise, anyway. Then the geas kicked in again with a pain that slowly increased from stabbing pain to pulsing agony until you started moving again.

My magic, what little I had that didn't explode on me, was as refocused as the geas travel compulsion. Everything I did, I did in terms of the gate energy and trying to manipulate it. It put a very weird twist to everything I tried. I couldn't help myself. Travel and movement was all I could think about when I tried to do magic, and mostly, the spell promptly exploded on me instead of pointing out food.

Magical explosions when I tried to make magic I was used to, but not explosions that all travelled in the same direction as I was going in.

Walking in the right direction did shut most of the pain down. I never knew my earlobes could hurt that much till I tried to stop and fish for breakfast once. Three minutes into that, I was ready to tear my ears, hair and eyebrows off my skull. Then my nose began to ache too, as the pain spread.

There was no fishing done that day, even while walking on the spot. I walked hungry and learned to angle towards anything you could grab and eat as you went by it.

Oh, by the way. Even berries can put up more of a fight that you'd expect. Most of those bushes have thorns.

So I leaned into things and snatched, and even that much misdirection hurt. I was fairly glad there wasn't a governor on the spell, thou. I walked at my own speed, pretty much. If he'd wanted to, Master Tomlin could've made me run all the way to the gate. Nonstop, straight-line running towards the beacon till I dropped out of sight trying.

Dropped out of sight in a slightly permanent way, if crossing the mountains and badlands out there put an inconvenient cliff, gully or lake in my way.

I did experiment with bending the rules as much as I could tolerate. I had to. Finding a friendly village after my daily forced march was about the only way I could keep fed, as bush-craft and fishing was not one of my strong points. I'll swear the animals I saw were laughing at me as I walked right past them. After a day or two, rabbits didn't even hop out of the way anymore; apparently I was a lousy shot with stones and they knew it.

Most wizards and their apprentices live and work all their lives in a house, or the city. I wasn't any different. Being outside like this all the time was strange.

I'd lived with my father the carpenter till I was nine or so, then as a third son got apprenticed off to the first person who needed help. If the wizard Tomlin hadn't seen something he liked in me and accepted me as a houseboy, I was due to go to sea or a farm instead. I'd jumped at the chance of learning how to be a powerful wizard instead of a sailor.

Wizardry sounded wonderful, compared to rowing ten hours a day. It just hadn't gone very well. I was clumsy with magic.

Well, discovering the rules of my new geas occupied the first few days. Sunlight was the trigger for more movement. Hiding in a cave helped a little, but you had to stay well back in the dark. The bad part of that was you still had to do fifteen klicks to do when you came out. Be it sunset, midnight or tea-time, the geas did not care. You walked.

You do not want to try and walk 15k in the dark forests of Lower Draconia at night, by the way. Whatever is out there in that starless murk of that mossy deathtrap, if it isn't trying to trip, hit or eat you, it's slimy and cold.

Have I mentioned rain yet? Not being able to stop and empty your boots after crossing streams? Going thru prickle bushes instead of around them?

Also, beware of any paths you accidentally find in the deep woods, even if they're going the right way. They're bear trails, and there's usually a hungry bear on them somewhere. Even at night. Trust me.

Oh, one other thing. Swimming a river in darkness while trying to carry a bag is something you don't want to do even once, especially when it's dark enough you can't even tell if there's another shore out there anywhere. Or rapids, monsters or pirates.

Doing your river-crossings by surprise is worse.

Swimming with whatever stuff you have is also a great way to get all your supplies wrecked, I learned. Soggy books do not a fire make. Not that I had many supplies to begin with, but I did still have my staff and journal with me. Still.

Apprentices learn how to make good staffs. Mine was a work-in-progress and much more use in a library than as a bush machete, but I was adapting it evenings as best I could.

Walking like this was giving me a tremendous appetite too; it was unaccustomed exercise. I ate a week's worth of food in the first few days and slept soundly almost as soon as I stopped walking. After that, when the geas finally settled down for any given day, I was usually tired and hungry enough to start in on the bushes around me.

More advice. Don't try that. The trots and a geas saying, "Keep moving!" don't mix. Bushes were all I'd gotten to eat the last few nights anyway, except for one lucky day when I stopped in a swamp. Then it was cattails, wandering snails, frog and swarms of ravenous bugs for dinner.

And no, you could not back up, even if a stream was only a hundred feet behind you. Or an Inn, where I could trade magic for a resting spot. The geas absolutely forbid reverse motion; or anything not in the direction it wanted to go in, even when not active; forwards towards the Gate was all I had. Not without tearing your head off in the process, anyway.

I was never lucky enough to stop and have an Inn a few hundred feet in front of me. In fact, at the end of the day I usually had to keep traveling till I got to water again.

Yes, I did get caught in a rocky cul-de-sac you couldn't climb out of once. Getting out of that hooking little dead-end deathtrap was surprisingly easy. All I had to do was waiting till the howling agony of the geas over-powered the instant retaliation pain of trying to go backwards. It was like being torn in two on an ongoing basis till I finally got back on track.

They probably heard my screams back in the capital. At least, I hope they did.

There was another ten klicks to go before I could rest after that little exercise in pain management. I don't remember much of it, just the usual process of desperately trying to dip water out of the streams I had to march across.

I walked. Life went on. My boots wore out. I kept walking, day after day.

The geas-curse pushed. I rode it and studied the roads ahead for obstacles I had to weave around. I learned to recognize watercress and the benefits of falling flat on my face to eat while crawling forward thru streams.

I survived. Not well, but I lived thru the first few hard weeks.

***

## chapter 4 ghost of a flower

The ghost bothering Henna was being the usual incoherent babbler, but she tolerated it. She was getting desperate for company. Watching the small bobbing blob of light dubiously as if floated around her, she mused on what to try on the floating ghost. It'd been quiet up on the hill and the merchant caravan she was supposed to entrap hadn't showed up.

The ghost didn't know anything about it, either.

That meant the caravan won't wander into the trap her brother's friends had set for it down the trail, and they'd have to attack it at some other place.

That was not good news. Attacking instead of trapping a caravan meant lots of injuries to both sides. It was a lot easier to simply extort taxes from a grumpy merchant that try to take anything by force of arms.

"There's no news of what happened to the caravan?" She asked the wavering ghost for the at least the seventh time. "Or the bandits? Are you sure?"

"No news." The blobby ghost wobbled erratically a bit towards a handy flower. "Not any caravan I know of out there. Not express, a regular merchant or a wanderer. Not now, not then, not tomorrow. Not here."

"You remember tomorrow now?" Henna asked in puzzlement. This was one of the things that made talking to old ghosts a little difficult. They might be talking about anywhen; stories of past treasure were almost as murky as present or future ones. The ghost bobbed at her and didn't say anything.

"OK, no news." Henna sighed sadly. "Was there something else you wanted to tell me then?" Henna asked that carefully. Sometimes the ghosts had warnings they had to get out of their systems before they would settle down to doing anything useful.

"Danger. Beware of the gate. It's out of adjustment." The ghost, a small glowing blob of light, tried to insert itself into the bell of the blooming flower.

"Yes, everyone knows that." Henna scoffed softly. She repressed her giggles at the ghost's antics. Eating the flowers that let her see the ghosts had a few silly side-effects; if she wasn't careful, she happily sit and giggle, talking to rocks and grass for the next few hours herself. "Tell me something new. Please."

Her giggles got a little harder to smother and Henna brushed a few errant wisps of hair off her forehead. You never did know how strong the sap from the flower would be. It was difficult to judge.

Sometimes it only took eating one blossom to see ghosts. Sometimes it took munching three of them down, with the full power of the drug ganging up on her all at once a few minutes later.

"A new wizard is coming." The ghost sighed as he backed out of the flower bobbed in the breeze. "An apprentice. We can feel him. One who ignores the warnings. He might join us soon."

"A wizard. You mean another suicidal apprentice?" The morning sun was getting a little warm and cozy. Henna shook herself awake and wondered if she should start moving before the impulse to sleep over-powered her.

"Yes. Foolish man." said the ghost weakly, spinning a little now. "Like I was. Ordered like I was. Knows nothing. Won't listen. The Gate will eat him before he can fix it."

Henna hiccuped gently right then and frowned slightly at the new glowing blob that flew out her mouth to sink into the grasses. It resembled the flower slightly and she sighed as it waved in a non-existent breeze.

The flower-top was a little more potent than usual if she was seeing the newly-made ghosts of flowers too.

Ghosts did not always show up instantly after death. Adjusting to a new world took time, and was different for each one. It all depended on what you'd learned during life. Apparently, all this flower had learned was how to look like a pretty flower. It dissolved as she watched it, moving on to greener pastures already, so to speak.

"Nice flower." The ghost commented quietly. "You learn, witch. You'd do better if you distilled, made an agar, salt or even a wine out of the juices. That concentrates the active ingredients."

"Thanks. I have no idea how to make a salt out of a flower, thou. And no wish to learn today." She hastily added as it began to look like the ghost was gearing up for a full lecture on methods and techniques of agar-making.

Ghosts did that. Whatever they knew in life was still a prime concern with them. If you ever wanted six easy ways to find whatever book you were looking for in a library, the apprentice ghosts floating around the badlands were the people to ask.

It was all most of them knew well.

All Henna knew was you had to pick the flower early, before the dew burned off or it won't work at all. And the earlier in the season after flowering, the better. That was about all she needed to know.

"And anything that looked like a flask of wine in our camp would get stolen before it aged another day." She added quietly. "Too risky. Besides, if the salt didn't drive the bandits crazy, they might learn to like it."

"Wait. I made that ghost?" She asked carefully. The answer sounded obvious, but she wanted to check it out. The ghost bobbed in front of her for a few seconds before settled back to a new blossom perch.

"Yes. And released it. You forced some life-energy into it's old pattern for a few seconds." The ghost wavered and bobbled knowingly. "Soon you will be able to hold the ghost of a flower in your mind and it will stay longer. And perhaps learn to make dragons."

"So I could learn to make dragons." Henna peered over the sea of grass, not seeing anything. "Wonderful. How many flowers would that take?"

The ghost didn't say anything for a long time. Henna could feel the day's heat starting to lull her into a doze again.

"You would need to know how to re-shape the life-force of rocks." The ghost finally said, after a long period of careful deliberation. "And would probably die in your first attempt. Dragon-fire is hard to contain, especially in a ghost of a dragon."

With that, the ghost bobbed off on the breeze and Henna sadly watched him go. Ghosts always seemed to offer a lot, but there was usually a big catch to their ideas.

Like trying to make flower-wine in a bandit's camp. Almost impossible to keep of out bandit hands, as thirsty people usually just grabbed the nearest skin of fluids and drank it without worrying much about who owned it first.

Or what was inside it.

***

## chapter 5 compulsions

Forcing myself to stop on the hilltop was as much as I could do. The pounding in my head immediately doubled, and I whimpered a bit as I made myself look quickly around and ahead. It was getting near the end of the day and I really needed to know the lay of the land ahead of me, or at least have a guess at it.

It hurts when you miss a stream or village by a few fields, or even a farmhouse. Even barns are better than nothing when you're sleeping outside.

Water was necessary. Enemies abounded. Forests didn't have much easy food in them and where I got dumped after my 15k day was almost as important as where the nearest food was.

Walking blind on this trip had been a problem so far, but a friendly noble a few hours back had given me a clue as to who and what laid ahead of me. It wasn't much, in any sense. He'd only been off his own land two or three times in his life, and one of them had been to pick up the girl he married.

Naturally, he'd been preoccupied most trips, but glad to share what he could. As it turned out, most of what he knew was in the wrong direction, but that couldn't be helped. A little wizardry had gone a long way last night, even if I was up and gone long before the noble in question was disturbing his own hangover. I knew he had a hangover, as I had a nasty one myself.

My first mistake was not eating. I'd gotten paid in beer and information for my magic shows. How was I to know how fast warm beer would hit me on a tired, empty stomach? Or how silly I would get with the noble cheering me on like that?

The pigs at the Inn would get better soon, I was sure. The ones that hadn't immediately run off, anyway. Most of them had migrated off in the direction of the gate, I was sure.

Most of the changes I made in them would probably go unnoticed, even if they were recaptured.

Today had turned out to be a bad day all around. The farmer's fields I was forced to cut across had angry farmers and angrier dogs in them. Plus what looked like a few new pig trails. None of them were listening to any stories about wizardly curses and the farmers were entirely intent on protecting their meagre crops from any more marauding thieves.

Now I had a fresh bleeding dog-nip on my calf that needed tending, a small greenish pumpkin in my sack and a new respect for how fast dogs could walk around cast spells.

I think these dogs must've been hunting rabbits and rats all their lives. Most of them certainly had the moves for it.

The pounding pain in my head increased as I held still and peered over the landscape. From the looks of things on that hilltop, I was heading deeper and further into the forests before the badlands, and that was a stupid thing to do. The signs of any civilization in the greenery in front of me were few and far between.

That meant sleeping in ditches, when I could find them. No easy way to get food, as I couldn't fish, drink or wash without water. Pine branch blankets and mushroom roulette for dinner.

The rivers, caravan routes and muddy trails thru the green that I could see were almost as useless. Most of them meandered around and I was a straight-line person these days. Plus oxen aren't fast. I'd out-walked more than one merchant with oxen-pulled carts on this trip already, then marched myself right thru most of their village-stops on my route.

People in caravans stopped regularly for gossip, trade, lunch, repairs and other silly things. I didn't have that luxury anymore. The only people I saw where I usually got to stop were hunters, woodcutters, bandits and the occasional mad witch; and none of them had much time for a lost wizard's apprentice with misdirected magic.

My geas saw to that. With malicious intent, I was getting to be sure of it.

I started walking again long before I was finished checking out what I was about to be forced to step in and scrap off what was left of my boots. The only good part of the stop was the painful forcing of my travel line a few steps to the left. That put a deep gorge, some nasty-looking bracken and most of the harder obstacles just out of my direct line of travel.

Oh, have I mentioned the rain yet? Clouds were banking up, getting ready to turn this forced march into yet another kind of mobile misery.

I made it to the gloom of the forest at the bottom of the hill a few moments later. I was head down and forcing myself thru thickets when I made the most interesting discovery of my trip. It was a hunter's snare and it snapped me up into the air and head-down over a stream before I could even react.

Hanging head-down over a gurgling stream in a creaking trap-line that groaned and sounded like it was about to fall apart at any second... plus, I kept walking even as I twisted gently in mid-air.

Striding in mid-air, with no halt-pain in it. A discovery! I needed earth contact to work the most of the geas. I had visions of tying myself to docks, up in trees or maybe swimming my daily march off (while fishing the day away) when I got an even better idea.

Sleep on a raft. I'd float to the city at night, and with any master-wizard there, be able to stop long enough to get this geas off me.

Then I began to swing back and forth. My geas kicked in on me on the backswing. After the pain started, I wondered about the trap itself, just a little too late to do anything about it. You usually shot deer and larger animals with arrows, and a rabbit-snare big enough to hold me up didn't sound very likely.

The news about the magical roaming pigs must've travelled fast, much faster than I could walk. Dust being shook loose from the rope holding me up as I rattled around didn't surprise me very much as it fell around me. What did surprise me was how fast it knocked me out.

***

## chapter 6 yak it up

"They aren't oxen, they're yaks. Useful animals. Their hair makes for nice warm blankets, their milk a nice beer."

Henna looked at the bobbing light with her and groaned. Oxen were still oxen in merchant caravans (not yaks) and she sighed resignation at the silly ghost keeping her company now. Her new ghost friend was a treasure trove of misinformation, being one of the older ghosts, and there wasn't much coherent thought left in it.

You got three kinds of ghost out in the grasslands. Local dead, (usually farmers, bandits and soldiers), demons who were still awake enough to attack things and outworld ghosts stuck here who didn't speak the right language. This one was a local. It did have lots of definite opinions in what was left of it's memories, thou.

"OK. Seen any yak caravans this morning then?" she asked hopefully. The ghost bobbing alone at shoulder height with her kept silent, except for a fairly tuneless humming sound it was making.

This ghost was another one of the senile, dissolving blobs of light with only a fairly random approach to things left to it now. One moment it was singing spring-songs from some far home-village, or attempting to, the next it was asking Henna's name again.

And it was almost completely obviously to the fact it was a long time dead and still stuck in the badlands, forced to revisit the gate that'd killed it years ago every few days.

There were uses for these ghosts, Henna reminded herself as she got called the wrong name for the third time in as many minutes. If you could point them towards the idea of gathering food or treasure, for instance, ghostly senses almost always completely outdid human ones.

Knowing there was water a few feet down didn't always help her much thou, (it took hours to dig that deep with a sharp stone) but if she ever wanted a collection of abandoned skulls, she was really well prepared for it now.

There were lots of abandoned skulls in the badlands, whole hills of them according to the ghosts. People had been dying here for various reasons, mostly fairly silly ones, for centuries now and ghosts were particularly well-suited for noticing and finding leftover skulls.

This ghost with her now was fairly convinced he was really alive and heading towards home at the moment; he didn't seem to want to do anything except babble about the girl he'd left behind. He was really excited about seeing her again.

Henna winced again. A girl who'd probably remarried within months of his leaving, if she possible could. Henna sighed. A hard life in a tiny village didn't give you the option of waiting for very long, even for wizards. Girls did have to eat and a husband or other relative was about the only way females had to stay housed and fed.

The ghost wasn't completely useless, she did have to admit. He'd been quick and useful in finding a few rare and delicate flower patches for her, to say something in his favor. That he thought he was gathering a garland for his lady was irrelevant. Henna's personal herb armory had been getting sparse of late and needed the replenishing.

One of the flowers she'd gotten today, when ground up and pasted together with a certain weed made for some very powerful badlands magic. It repelled bugs; and out here in the hills, having hungry bugs avoid you was a blessing worth it's weight in gold.

Or at least in dinners and food, if not a portion of loot from the caravans. The ghost eventually got bored with Henna's pestering and left, floating away on the breeze as the shadows of the day lengthened.

It was a slow weary trudge home as dusk fell. The secret bandit camp she lived in with her brother eventually finally came into sight for Henna, complete with the secret weed-strewn garden plots and fields, secret campfires, secret tatty tents and not-so-secret latrine pits. You could hear a semi-normal babble floating around in the air in the camp, thru the smoky air. One screech pierced the murk more stridently that others for Henna.

"My shoeses, they do not stinkly!"

Aha, Esmeralda, runaway slave from one of the caravans, and now a devoted bandit camp-follower. She was a psychotically competitive female and loyalty was almost her only coin.

Almost. Girls in this camp had sex appeal, popular personalities or what passed for information in the camp to get by on. Esmeralda had the basics down. When her favors didn't work she practised hate-campaigns. Well, that and being teased. She made a living floating from tent to tent, weaseling in on whatever she could with her labors. She'd even been in Henna's tent a few times, tending to her brother's baser needs, telling him he was wonderful and passing on old gossip.

It sounded like it'd been a semi-successful raid today in the camp, if a bit long on liquid booty. The bandits had probably been hired to booby-trap another caravan again.

That was standard practice among some of the corn-kings walking supplies around famine areas and the more desolate regions of the badlands. Take out the competition and you got a much nicer market all to yourself. The bandits trying to attack you were good hires for that kind of work.

Groaning a bit, Henna quietly walked to her tent and ducking inside, started prepping her supper, flowers, weeds and the tent for an early evening, with one ear on the noise coming from the rest of the camp.

The boys didn't often get that rowdy after a hard day's work, they usually tended to fall sleep really fast. Really, really fast after a meal, a few drinks and one of Esmeralda's little tension relievers.

But it paid to be careful. Not that she'd be better off sleeping away from the camp tonight, not with her herb weapons and a well-known habit of getting more than even with pests, annoyances and the light-fingered.

Some of these flower oils attracted bugs too, and everyone in camp knew it. Henna was a witch and her curses were considered things to be avoided.

You only woke up covered in spiders once, then whoever was bothering her usually decided it wasn't worth the trouble of bothering the camp witch anymore. Or when the latrine visits attracted lots of attention from buzzing pests; enough to get you run screaming thru camp pantless.

Henna settled in the slow pepping of her latest harvest, wondering if her magic was a plus or a minus in the camp.

It did keep annoyances away, but power attracted enemies, too.

***

## chapter 7 just hanging about

I woke up hanging from a ceiling beam by my arms, and not in a trap in the forest; the first thing I noticed was my boots below me, or what was left of them, were gone. It was a little depressing. Me, Aaron the apprentice, know and abused by all. Oh, and I was still walking, or trying to too.

Watching absently as I spun and tried to walk hanging in midair, I tried to breath in the smoke that was surrounding me and cursed my fate. The geas getting to the gate hadn't slowed down at all in this dark.

There was a disgruntled woodcutter halfheartedly watching me from below as he chopped and sliced something on a scarred wooden table, preparing a meagre meal.

I decided babbling at him was my best approach. A hermit alone in the woods had to be starved for talk, right?

"Well. So you're finally awake." The hermit grumped up at the apprentice, slicing what looked suspiciously like small green pumpkin into smaller chunks. "Wizardly apprentices! Deadbeats, the whole lot of you. I thought you were going to sleep the day away."

"We do if we can. Doesn't take magic dust to do that. Some other curses make that kind of difficult, thou. Aaron the apprentice, at your service. Why did you bring me here?" I checked things out, looking down at my moving feet as I twisted slightly in the smoky air. "Say, this is a big change from being force-fed the wonders of nature, let me tell you. How did you bring me here? Was I out long?"

"Wrong question. You'd do better to hope you don't have to do twice the distance for your march tomorrow, apprentice."

Looking at the diced gourd on his table, the woodcutter sighed and swiped the whole mess, seeds and all off the edge of the table and splashing into a small stew pot. Then he turned and hung the pot over the fire.

"Holmwood kids! Was there any valuables-of-nature in your cursed walk, apprentice? Past the wonders? No? Well, to answer the question you haven't asked yet, it depends on your curse, I guess." The woodcutter grumbled that out while adjusting the pot so it heated more evenly. "I dunno a thing about it, you'll find out all by yourself, eventually. Now you be quiet and answer my questions or I'll sell you to someone with a treadmill that needs their grain threshed."

He nodded at a set of rolling logs in a corner of the hut. They looked like a primitive treadmill, one that been used a lot before. I had no idea what it was hooked up to. "Not a pleasant way to die, that." The hermit-cutter rambled on gleefully, stirring his dinner. "You'll walk yourself to death screaming in a month or so trying to get your distance in, but ya do get a lot of threshing done. Or boards cut."

The chuckling was gleeful but a little smothered, as the woodsman considered my new impending fate.

"Hope you like green pumpkin soup, apprentice. That's all we have for dinner." That got added absently as the woodcutter threw a few small green leaves into the pot. "Oddly enough, there was no game today. Some idiot thrashing his way thru the bushes scared it all off."

"It's spring. There's no threshing hereabouts for a few months yet." I stuck in quickly. "Or thrashing, I chose my path better than that. It might've been a herd of migrating pigs out there, thou." Groaning, I tried to peer around the smoky hut. "Lordy, I hope there's some light left out there. Walking in the dark gets hard."

"No such thing as migrating pigs." The woodcutter said slowly, peering at me carefully.

"Long story there." I mentioned quietly. The woodcutter took a quick look at me, winced and shook his head.

"And you walk around the trees, idiot. Not thru them. You haven't learned to sleepwalk yet?" Sitting back down at the table, the woodsman pulled out a pipe and packed it with what looked like shredded bark from a small pouch on his belt. "Ha, a newbie walker." he sniffed to himself. "You must be from somewhere close around here. Or stupid."

"Maybe both. What do you want with me?" Watching the soup start to simmer with hungry eyes, I tried not to breath in any more smoke than he had to. "Say, ever consider a slave that's magically forced to run away every day isn't much good to anyone?"

"You might be some use to me. You aren't the first failed apprentice to walk this route, youngster." The hunter seemed perfectly at ease as he leaned over and grabbed a small flaming stick from the fire, bringing it up to fire up his pipe.

He puffed happily then tossed the stick back into the flames, where it spewed sparks. "There's been enough of you weird types passing thru that almost everyone hereabouts has a story or two to tell about them. And a few interesting uses for someone that wants to walk thru walls."

"You might get tossed down a hole and forced to dig your way back up, for instance. That gets a new privy dug real fast." The hunter mentioned quietly, after musing a few moments. "Or the old one cleaned out. The screaming doesn't bother anyone but you after the first few hours."

"Wait. No privies. I can do magic." That got throw that out fast. Being tossed down a privy didn't sound like any fun at all. "What do you need around here, woodsman?"

"Fine. More great ideas from a failed apprentice, just what I need." The hunter snorted quietly and drew on his pipe. He looked up at me thoughtfully. "What was your failing, boy? Why'd you get cursed out by your master?"

The pause was long as I blushed. "I wasn't developing a specialty of my own, just learning my master's magic." That admitted, I started blushing harder. "After a few years of that, he was getting very annoyed."

"Aye." The woodsman sighed and relaxed into his chair, puffing his pipe. " Humph. Annoyed enough to dump you. The last apprentice that came thru here said something about a master needing to teach to learn anything new."

"That means if they can't steal enough good ideas from you, you get tossed out, young fool." The hunter added quietly, looking up at me with piercing eyes. "The gate is the usual fate for slow learners, I guess. Or even slower thinkers, in your case."

"I just worked. Sounds like the last apprentice thru here was a smart one." I admitted, still twisting in the air and wondering how long it was going to be before my arms got torn out of their sockets. "He say anything else? Anything I can use, like how to get this geas off me?"

"Smart? You don't know the half of it." The hunter thought for a few seconds. "Not that'd he'd managed that particular trick himself yet. He did mention something about not using a lodestone to block the curse. Said it only made him walk in random directions all day." The hunter chuckled. "He changed direction every few steps and didn't get anywhere. Didn't get anywhere at all."

"I did sell the lodestone for a good price, thou." The hunter looked up craftily at the dangling apprentice. "It was a nice magic rock. Now it's you up there. So what've you got that worth your freedom, youngster?"

"A staff that's kept me from drowning a few times, the pumpkin you're eating for dinner and whatever else is left in the sack." I admitted after looking frantically around the small hut. "I can do magic, too. I see you've already got my books ready for the privy. That's my staff in the corner. Can I have my journal back, please?"

"Oh, I need fire-starter. That paper stuff'll come in handy during the winter. And as wipe." Sighing happily, the hunter patted the empty sack that'd held my belongings. "And another game-bag is always handy. Truth to tell, I thought the staff was a fishing pole. It was wet enough for it. All told, this isn't enough for me to let you loose. You see, this stuff is already mine now."

He puffed on his pipe, blowing smoke upwards and studying me closely, the almost-a-wizard hanging from his ceiling. Too closely. I felt like a joint of meat curing in the smoke. "The last apprentice up there also said something about studying power instead of studying development. You make the same mistake, boy?" He added absently, still staring. He was a little nervous. Wizards were dangerous enough. Stupid wizards were double trouble, I guess.

"My name is Aaron. Err... and I guess so. Power? Politics? I wasn't city. I just studied and tried to make magic." Slumping as much as I could, I watched my legs swish back and forth absently thru the smoke and coughed a little more. "You have to find something you're good at as a wizard's apprentice. A magic of your own. I never did. Not any power, per say. I had tasks, but not many of them in town."

"Nothing came up that I was good at. That last apprentice sounds like a townie. Power attracts enemies, you see." I winced. A wizard's biggest enemy was usually another, jealous wizard and that lesson I'd learned the hard way.

"The jealous. Other wizards, mostly. Enemies mean sabotage, innovation or out-producing somebody every time." I added quietly, after a few seconds thought. "Even going to market is risky. But mostly it means sabotage. Town wizards are professionally paranoid; living there makes them that way. Overt, covert, subterfuge and clandestine operations. Every apprentice knows some of the rules there; it takes a weird collection of talents to survive in town, and I didn't have them."

"Yah. Maybe your master couldn't. Know yourself, the enemy and the terrain." The hunter mentioned to himself, staring off into space. "I've heard o'that. The first time you're hunting the bear and after that, the bear is hunting you. And trees hold grudges, apparently. Small ones, if you're lucky. Too bad you wizards spend most of your time trying to slime other people. You fellas might get something useful done once in a while, otherwise."

"You're quoting the last apprentice again aren't you?" I said accusingly, glaring at the hunter. "I'm not like that."

"Yep. We talked a whole lot. He hung there till we finally worked out a deal for me to let him go. A real shame that the longer he stopped, the more he had to walk each day." The hunter admitted that quickly, looking embarrassed. "Never did find out if he got to the gate. He was the one that mentioned sleepwalking too. He said it worked fine for him 'cause pain woke him up for any problems, then he just went back to sleep till the day was done for him."

"He also said wizards were almost as stupid as their customers." The hunter said quietly, looking like he was remembering something he didn't want to. I tried to look interested, but my shoulders were starting to ache seriously now.

"Low goals, low methods, low results. Every love potion creates two other annoyed people, usually husbands, fathers or ex-boyfriends; and any of them were likely to start throwing rocks. Anyone who went to a professionally paranoid wizard for help was real desperate, anyway."

I grimaced. This was old news to me. "Stupid desperate. As bad as going for your lord's political help and becoming a professional cannibal's latest best friend, or to a priest who offers to hell you up if you don't pay."

The hunter nodded absently. "Lord's mostly manhunt bandits out here. Not complicated people at all, and headhunting for a wizard isn't much different, I guess. Priests try to tell you they bless things. Not that I usually have much truck with their magics out here in the bush."

"Yah. It's a weird life." I tried not to think of the itch developing in the middle of my back. "Even out in the country. Wizards get the people with problems lords and priests can't handle; and the beggars, naturally. Greed, vanity and power-politics projects. Sometimes health stuff, which we have to send to the witches."

I shrugged, something hard to do while tied up and hanging like this. "Well, vengeance, love potions and get-rich-quick schemes, to be honest." A little depressed now, I swung idly as my legs churned the smoky air below me steadily.

"Lots of vengeance. Come to think of it, wizards are really vengeance specialists. When the local lord or priest didn't help, people came to us. You get tired of doing love potions, eventually. There's lots of people with weird projects out there too, but we never saw many of them. I never did, they cost serious coin."

This nattering was bothering me and it was starting to feel like my arms were getting ripped out of their sockets. "Say, you could almost be a wizard yourself, now. So what do you want with me?"

"Help with one of my little projects." The hunter answered fast, chuckling. "Naturally. I need a fish-attractor that doesn't get mermaids raiding me and trying to loot my hut."

"Again." He added absently, looking around his hut wistfully. "It was hell getting away from them the last time. Good thing mermaids don't get much practice climbing trees or I'd be sunk right now."

"You get to make it for me." He added carefully. "You don't leave here till you do."

"Ah, we're a little far from the sea here." I mentioned that quietly, after shaking my head a little. "You got mermaid attacks?" I added in disbelief. "Real mermaids? How?"

"Yes. Boy ones. They have legs. Grumpiest idiots you've ever seen. They aren't in good humor after a few days of coming upriver in fresh water and then having to walk on land. Puts 'em in a real nasty mood."

"They need a full moon to make the change, I guess. They burnt my place to the ground, last time." The hunter sounded peeved, remembering. "All I wanted was a way to get the big ones out of the river and POW! Mermaids come running to take me down."

"Stupid apprentices." He muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "I mean, what does it take to charm a fish? They like worms."

"The charm did work, thou." The hunter sighed wearily. "A little too good, I think. You dropped it into water and fish surrounded it. That made the catching sort of easy, once they got their minds on the lure. If you had a net with you. It did bring mermaids too, thou." The hunter sighed. "Nice while it lasted. I lost it when the hut burnt down."

"That's the easy way to destroy a magic. If you don't know what's doing it, burn everything. Sounds like a bad way to end the day, thou." I tried to sound sympathetic. And mystified. Moonlight? Mermaids? "Ah, by the big ones, you mean..."

"Fish. As big as I can get. There's a few pike that've been legends here for almost a century. I want one or two of them." The hunter reached over and rattled a few fishing poles in one corner of the hut. "One in particular. I've been after that mean little rascal since he stole my pole as a boy."

"Ah. This is gonna take some serious thought." I admitted quietly. "And I don't think well hanging from the ceiling. Or hungry." I added as the smell of the soup began to waft up to me. "Let's say I do manage to make a charm, or something. One for local fish only, and not bring Amazon mermaids on the march to burn you out. Then what?"

"Give me something that even makes the fish jump in the water and I'll let you go." The hunter said evenly, stirring the soup. "My word on it. I'll settle for finding the miserable SOB in the river. If I can see him, I can catch him. Find him for me. Make him jump and my pole will take it from there. Can you do that? Make fish jump? I want your word on it."

"OK, you got it. Let me down and I'll do what I can." That got tossed out casually. I was hopeful of not getting chained to any handy farm-machinery now.

"Nope. Swear by the journal, apprentice. Mutual pact. You learn to sleep floating in the air or chained to the treadmill there anyway. Just ignore the sawing sounds, you're powering an old blade and cutting wood while you walk. Waste not, want not, eh? I know the apprentice's curse a little too well." The hunter sighed and reached over to stir the soup some more. "Notice how your hands are tied right now? Unless you like hanging in a privy, you work up there or on the mill cutting wood. Got it? You stay here till done."

"Got it." I sighed and scratched one hand with the other. It was all I could reach. "I swear by my journal to make you a fishing lure if you let me go when I'm done. I'll start right now, if that's OK. Get me on the treadmill, I need to read a little. I'll also need my staff, my journal, one or two of those books, plus a light to read by."

"Want some soup first?" The hunter seemed happy now, and ready to help another apprentice-disaster into his life. "It's gonna be a long night for you."

"Oh, by the way. My name is Charlie. Charlie Porter." The hunter added as he reached for a primitive vine rope I was hanging from. One arm reached over to swing me towards the treadmill, which was equipped with a small table at one end.

"Charlie." I nodded at him. "I'm Aaron the apprentice."

"You've mentioned that." Charlie the hunter prepared to let me down easy and I did what I could to not kick him in the chops as he did. "And I don't care what you're called. Find me that fish lure, apprentice."

It was a smooth move, getting dropped on the treadmill. The old fool had obviously captured more a few apprentices before. Good ones from the sounds of it, too. I wondered why I was getting out of this so easy.

A fish-charm shouldn't be that hard to do, if I could make one that didn't serve up cooked fish or make them all migrate to the far shore.

I always did have a small problem with exploding magic, one that was complicated by magic that travelled now too. But Charlie didn't need to know that.

***

## chapter 8 politics at home

The noise and smell kept getting worse. Henna groaned to herself. Her bandit brother Ali brought one of his stupid friends home to the tent with him. One of the triple whammy (weird, creepy and clueless) ones. The guest was also apparently working on smelly, stupid and ugly in his spare time and it didn't help him any. They both had been drinking and weren't any more fun than usual.

Henna took one look at them both and brought out her home-skulls, the pair she kept in the tent to impress the more foolish of the bandits, and set herself up between them in the far corner of the tent with a small flickering oil-seed lamp in front of her, then played the bongos on the smooth polished bones for a few seconds.

The pounding helped clean her hands and didn't bother the old bone any. The lamp made for a nice smell, far better than unwashed bandit. That was the reason she used it, other to make the shadows dance around her. Then she went back to work grinding up flowers in her only bowl, with a few low mystic chants thrown in over the bowl every now and then for good measure.

She shot glances at the other two every once in a while as they sat there and bragged to themselves about how daring, smart and strong they'd been today. And the incredible number of kills they'd made with only a nominal number of blows.

The speed with which they'd planted arrows they could claim as their own to up their kill-rate was what most of the new bandits did. How many times they'd let charging merchant guards impale themselves on their swords was next. How fast they'd adapted to each new disaster as it unfolded. It was a slurred, uncoordinated but enthusiastic mutual admiration society. They wouldn't be any help in the fields tomorrow at all from the way they were slobbering over each other.

The conversation wasn't worth listening to, past the news the merchant had paid them to louse up his competition's traffic. There were times and dates involved. Henna shuddered. Merchants were tricky. The last time the bandits here had tried this, they'd walked into an evil little trap themselves and the trap had been spring on them instead. They were still smarting over that particular fast one.

Being made a slave and getting sold off in town was the kinder fate for a failed bandit. Most bandit captives were hanged on the spot, if they even survived the battle.

Killing the wounded was considered an act of mercy out here in the badlands. It happened a lot, too.

Henna listened a little more. Plot, brag and gossiping. The boys had nothing new to say. Sighing as she ground up flowers into a paste, Henna the Red added a few other ingredients together and carefully tipped the resulting gunk into a small cloth. She chanted encouragement to the paste as she lined the cloth over the bowl and twisting hard, tightened it up. A bandit's conversation never varied much and a drunken one was even simpler than usual. She made her chants as soothing as she could while oil dripped out of the cloth and into the bowl.

Henna thought of the chants as lullabies, but not sleep-spells. Short of dusting the two boys to sleep or hitting them with itching powder, this little show was the best way she had of getting thru the night undisturbed.

Disturbing a working witch was known to be very bad luck in the camp.

Twisting, Henna squeezed the paste harder, trying to concentrate on getting the most out of her harvest and that into a bottle. The skulls usually worked at scaring people off, after she'd made up a few stories about the bandits now friendly to her that used to live in them. She sighed to herself and concentrated on her magic-making.

Getting any attention from her brother's friends made her feel tingly in all the wrong places these days; and that was something to be avoided scrupulously. She didn't want to end up a bandit's wife, or even a bandit's girlfriend out here.

Bandits tended to evaporate if there was any serious trouble or even work. They weren't, on the whole, good family-types at all, or even decent boyfriends. They tended to steal whatever they could lay their hands on, for starters.

As she hoped, the two bandits took one look at her talking to the skulls under her hanging strings of drying herbs, brightly colored flowers and small bags of spices in low tones, then left her strictly alone. The shadows from the weak lamp flickered around the tent nicely, adding to the eerie effect.

Her smirk triumphant, Henna hid in the same shadows. Weird worked well at keeping bandits away when dirty and mean won't. She sighed to herself and watched the ghosts floating about as she slowly ground up flowers in the bowl.

Usually, one or two of them would come and inhabit the skulls when she was working like this. They felt at home nestling in there, and if she was lucky, she got someone coherent to talk to while she ground up and prepared her magic oils.

Not that she ever let the boys hear much of what she was saying. That would be letting too many secrets slip.

The ghosts floating around tonight were the usual collection of frustrated dead, old bandits who had a lifetime of trying to fairly unsuccessfully steal stuff. As lying was their only surviving skill, they weren't much company. The other ghosts floating about were dead apprentices who were fairly derisive about magic-craft to start with, and a couple of the lonelier demons and outworlders from the gate.

The occasional demon ghosts were sad types, usually. Well, sadder than most ghosts. They were a long way from home and only wanted to get back there to rest in peace. She nodded politely at them as they bobbed by, not trying to draw them into anything.

The gate-demons were risky to talk to. Most of them had odd ideas on what was proper behavior for a young witch, and like all ghosts, even stranger ideas on what was important in life; that is, when they spoke the language at all.

Her brother and his friend took the hint and fell asleep fast, after gobbling down most of whatever booty they'd brought back with them.

After making sure they were both fast asleep, Henna gathered up the pitifully few supplies left and made a small supper for herself.

It was the usual bandit fare. Spiced dried something-or-other from the merchant. Caravan supplies of mystery meat and spices, additives for the bean-feasts travelers usually had for dinner every night.

Henna put the scraps to soak in a bowl with some beans for a moment as she finished up her chores. Even caravan beans would make for a nice change. Anything was better than munching on roots as she weeded the garden, and a diet of raw potatoes got real bland real fast.

Feeding relatives was not high on any bandit's list of things to do. Henna had gotten smart about finding...(Stealing. This was a bandit camp, after all.) food for herself early in life. The recipes she got from the ghosts usually called for things she didn't have or couldn't do, but after a few years of listening to them talk about it, she was now one of the best cooks in camp.

Not that bandits did much except burn things anyway. Esmeralda, for instance, knew nothing about cooking even when she had anything to cook with. Actual supplies were a rarity here, except just after the weak harvests of whatever had ripened in the garden plots.

Then there was lots of it. Cabbage every night for a month, lots of it. Henna wrinkled her forehead as she wondered about what to add to the spicy meat. She didn't cook for other bandits at all anymore. Good food only made her a better catch, and the target of more bandit attention that she really cared for.

Putting her tools away carefully so any roving wanders that happened thru the tent couldn't take them, she retired to her own bedroll underneath the rows of drying herbs, after carefully booby-trapped her corner of the tent so that any idle curiosity about her tools, bedroll or supplies got repaid with some fairly instant and even more embarrassing pain.

Henna wondered about town-life as she drifted off to sleep, hoping the nightmares practising magic always gave her were quiet tonight. There had to be demand for a fairly competent witch in the gate-town of Holmwood, somehow. Or somewhere. Girls who could talk to ghosts had a real skill to sell.

Demand that didn't end up with her being burned alive or tossed in the river by the more jealous, naturally. Or hunted by people who didn't want their secrets revealed.

Anything was better than being stuck in this stupid tent for very much longer.

***

## chapter 9 fishing

"It wasn't supposed to do that!"

The smoking mass on the table smoldered quietly adding to the already smoky air in the small hut. Charlie and I stared at yet another of my failures to make a working fishing lure sadly. The burning mess on the table was the imploded remains of the charm I'd just build for him and it hadn't worked well at all. In fact, it hadn't gone out yet and was beginning to look like a permanent stone fire on his table-top.

"Aaron, you've got to be the worst magic charmer I've ever had in here." Charlie sighed and watched the fire continue to scorch his table glumly. "Any fish that swims up to this will get cooked instantly."

"Not that I've seen many fish that can jump after they've been cooked." Charlie the hunter looked in disgust at the mess I'd made of the latest magical lure. "Fly, a little. But not jump."

As usual with my magic, the first few attempts had gone wrong fairly fast; instead of a charm accepting the spell I wanted to put on it, there'd been a small explosion mashing the ingredients together. As it turned out, the ingredients weren't very fire-proof. Not even the stone.

And everything was to the east of me, naturally. Even my spells were starting to curve that way these days, and doing anything that didn't involve the gate was a big extra effort.

"Worst wizard I've ever seen, bar none. And that's saying some." Charlie added, more than a little depressed. "A dangerous apprentice. Comes from me trying to get free magic from wandering failures. Rejects under compulsions, I guess. My own fault, there."

What was left of the charm kept smoldering on the table, adding weird smells to the smoky air in the hut. I stayed walking on the treadmill, learning to hate the sound of logs being cut outside as I coughed but steadily churned away in place.

True to his word, Charlie did have the treadmill in his hut connected to a saw outside. A stone saw that wore the wood in two more than it cut it, but a saw none the less.

A very heavy stone saw. I was getting tired of walking on the treadmill real fast.

"You try making magic while walking. And tired. In the dark. With no tools." I grumbled back. "Man, I miss my morning coffee like you won't believe." Groaning, I puffed air at the ex-charm on the table. The fire flared a little brighter and that was about it. "Making magic isn't easy to begin with, Charlie. And all these aggravations make it a lot harder."

"Fine. Want to be hung from the beams again?" Charlie the hunter looked at the small burning magic on his table and sighed, sweeping it into the firepit with a brisk motion of some twigs. The twigs caught fire instantly.

The charm rattled and died in the fire pit with a final blast of heat and light as Charlie sighed; the twigs hurriedly joined them in the fire. "You're going to have to do better than that if you ever want to get out of here, you know." Charlie added quietly, looking over at me. "And soon. Not even fish live forever. Cursed apprentices hardly last any time at all."

"Yah, I know." I shrugged and kept stoically marching in place, trying to figure out just what had gone wrong this time. Magic is not supposed to explode, but mine did, and usually inwards. That made carrying anything of mine around with you a special kind of risk, one even I didn't usually take.

I wondered again just what effect the medications I'd made up for that nobleman's pigs had done to the pigs, then decided not to worry about it. I had bigger fish to fry at the moment.

After all, pigs that roasted themselves from the inside out weren't going to be all that different from normal ones; fire is the normal way of cooking them. People would find a use for any extra-crispy cooked pork that showed up in barns or streets of the village, I was sure. Even the buildings that'd burnt down around the pigs.

A migrating herd of burning or exploding pigs might cause a few more problems than usual, thou.

I made up my mind to try again, even if I was getting seriously tired of almost burning the hut I was stuck in down. "Go check your traps or something, Charlie. I'm going to read this again. Maybe I missed a comma or something."

Charlie sniffed at me, then turned and left, me still tethered to the treadmill and marching onward to nowhere. He wasn't worried about me running away, he had my word already. Plus there was a soggy vine rope attached to my ankle and wrapped to a post stopping anything like that from happening.

The vine was very firmly attached to a post in front of me. I could break it, but not without a lot of trouble. It was too wet to burn and there was metal in it. Setting fire to my leg held no special appeal for me. Grabbing the book from in front of me, I went back over the magic in my head while re-reading the chapter on charms in my book. The method was simple, the fact I was putting way too much energy into the spell was the big problem. After a couple deep breaths, I tried relaxing again.

Unstable energy that collapsed in on itself fast, my usual magical blunder. No problem. Just whisper power into it, not bail effort thru it. All the ingredients were still within reach, so I gathered up the elements, holder and book, and after arranging them in my hands, tried the spell again.

This was supposed to be simple. Love charms are something wizards get asked for every day.

First. The stuff. I had it all in my hands. Second, the spell. Attractive, alluring provocative, captivating. The dynamic. As a gate for catching fish, naturally.

Something to get the attention of a fish, something to attract them, enough energy to make it a working lure and not wishful thinking, all dumped into a waterproof holder. Easy. Any apprentice could do this.

Well, any apprentice except me. I was a bit over-enthusiastic. All that loose energy being with me was the reason Master Tomlin had kept me on all those years. According to him, if I ever learned how to use it, I would be a great wizard. Or at least a powerful one.

That hadn't happened. He'd kicked me out instead. Actually, apprenticeships were usually a year or two in length. Mine had been five years long and was currently fading fast.

Charging up all three items in various orders and various ways of attaching them to the stone was tried next. None worked very well and the stone always started to glow almost as soon as the spell was finished.

Fortunately, even tired, cancelling magic was something I'd gotten really good at and there were lots of stones to work with. Usually. After a couple more tries, I had a small but growing puddle of lava on the floor in front of me. Enough so that when Charlie came back in, I was almost out of stone-holders for the spell. He sniffed again, but didn't say anything. After gloomily pouring some water on the glowing rock on the dirt floor and watching the steam rise for a moment, he set out again to replenish our meagre food supplies.

At least the hut was warm. Warm enough to make me start sweating in earnest; and that was what gave me the final idea. I put the whole kit and caboodle into the water-jug and tried putting the spell on it from there.

That worked. Or at least it didn't immediately blow up like my other attempts had. Trying to keep the grin off my face, I yelped in celebration.

There was one other slight problem. Looking at the jug carefully, you couldn't tell if the charm worked yet. You couldn't say if fish were heading for the lure in a bottle, let alone any more mermaids.

Imitating a fish would be my next problem, I could tell.

I thrust the jug into Charlie's hands as he crept back into his hut nervously a few minutes later. He was worried about it burning down on him again, you could tell. Or maybe exploding. "Here ya go, Charlie. One fish-charm." I said triumphantly, wiping sweat from my brow and gloating at him as he juggled the jug in his hands carefully. "Never let it get dry, don't use it after midnight and always keep a worm or two in the bottle."

"Just toss the jug into the river and wait?" He asked dubiously, holding the water-jug away from him like he expected it to explode. I could tell from the way he was gingerly holding the jug he expected the charm to burn thru the bottom of it any second.

I decided not to mention the steam I could see rising from the water in it. Getting the whole mess into the river fast was beginning to look like a very good idea to me. "Yah. Get that thing into the river. Stop it up first. Keep it tied to a string or a vine or some fishing line so you can haul it back out. Keep a few live worms in there too, that's important."

"Maybe a few live frogs." Charlie said quietly, looking at it carefully and his eyes beginning to light up with greed. "Or slightly cooked ones. I don't mind frog soup. This is one big pike I'm after. He chases down and eats stuff in the reeds round his pool every summer." I faked some exhaustion as Charlie looked at the jug joyously. It did not look like any bait that'd work on a big pike to him, I could tell, but he was willing to give it a try.

It did look like just another bait-trap, not a magical lure. It was a jug with oddities floating in it and didn't look special.

I kept walking, not able to stop. This geas was a misery. If Charlie ever wanted to get rid of me, all he'd have to do is cut me loose and I won't have any choice about getting away from here fast.

"Great. Go try it out. Drop if off the dock on a string and fish should start swarming around it in a minute or two." I wiped sweat from my forehead again and looked down at the puddle of molten rock off the edge of the treadmill.

"I'll be waiting here in the sauna." I grumbled. "Say, could I have a drink before you go?"

"There isn't another water jug around here." Charlie grumbled, more to himself than anyone else. He sounded peeved and held the jug out at me. "You want some of this?"

"Ah, no thanks." I winced. I'd forgotten bachelors usually survive quite nicely with one of everything on hand; and usually a one that did lots of different jobs. That kind of simplicity kept both the washing up and the clutter in the hut down to a minimum. Charlie grinned back at me nervously. "You wait till you hit the river, apprentice. I'll be back in a minute."

"OK. Just bring some water back with you. Please."

"Oh, you'll get lots of that soon enough." Charlie didn't elaborate on that statement and I was too tired to care. I walked in place there, breathing hard in the steamy hut while Charlie tried out his new fishing lure.

He came back in a few minutes later, ecstatic, and carrying a perch or two in his hands. The jug was tucked under one arm.

"It worked, so I pulled it right back out. No mermaids for me this time." He crowed. The dripping jug and catch got slapped on the table, then Charlie reached over and started to untie my leg. It was a little awkward, as I couldn't stop marching, but he got it done. "Good enough for me. You can go now, apprentice. Sorry for interrupting your journey. There's your staff and your journal by the door."

"And if I were you, I'd get ready for a nice long swim." He added absently as the vine came off. "Also, avoid Harvey the bookseller, if you get that far. The bookstore in Holmwood, or so I hear."

"If you think I'm bad, wait till you meet Harvey. Even I've heard of him." Charlie chuckled to himself.

"Swim? What are you talking about?" I asked weakly. I hadn't even gotten fed yet and stayed marching on the treadmill. "Harvey? No dinner? But I like fish."

"No dinner. Exploding wizards are dangerous to keep around the house. Any idiot knows that." Charlie winked at me, then pushed me off the treadmill. I stumbled to the floor, already grabbing and scrabbling for my things as I hit the dirt.

My staff snagged and got poked out in front of me, towards the door, pushing it open. That little move had saved me lots of trouble more than once.

"Swimming, yes. There's a big river right in front of you." Charlie mentioned, holding the jug up and looking at the bottom of it carefully. He very carefully didn't look at me at all.

"Swimming happens when you fall into the water, apprentice. If you're lucky. Every other apprentice come thru here has marched right into the water out there, so you probably will too. You're about to re-start your travels to the gate. Remember to swallow as much air as you can, you'll float longer with a bellyful of air, even if you can't swim. Then you'll get swept right to the rapids, likely. Maybe even thru them."

"Goodbye, apprentice." Charlie stood to one side as I marched past him, grinning at me. Stunned, but still scrambling to grab my journal, I promptly marched myself out of his hut, protesting this vigorously.

"Rapids?" I yelped as I blinked in the bright sunshine. That was a mistake. I almost walked right into a tree, but the staff held in front of me bounced me around it instead.

"Yeah, rapids." Charlie grunted absently behind me. It was faint now and it sounded like he was busy gutting the fish in the hut. "No one has ever come back to complain about them, but try to be careful going thru the white water just downriver from here a bit. While you're swimming."

"Swimming? Aw, blast! Goodbye Charlie." I yelled back at him, ouching along in bare feet and already doing an industrious tree-dance around the more immovable objects in my path. I stuffed my journal into a pocket. "Good luck."

I didn't hear any reply; I was busy walking in a forest now anyway and that was a full-time job. My geas didn't like trees. It didn't even know anything about obstacles. My compulsion drove me to march right into anything in my way, so throwing yourself to one side before you banged your nose into something needed lots of your attention, especially when going thru a forest.

Walking off the bank and into the river was my next two steps after that. Gasping and swallowing as much air as I could as I went over and into the river was all I could do.

Apparently Charlie liked living real close to water.

You could hear the rapids just downstream from Charlie's home fishing hole even underwater. My last impression as water covered me was of a deep pool on a bend in the river; my staff trying to poke a hole in it; then the murky blue water coming up over my eyes. That was the last thing I saw for a long, long time.

***

## chapter 10 politics in camp

There were three types of people in the camp; informers, opportunists and warlords. Henna groaned as she saw all three of them watching for her the next morning as she eased her way around her sleeping brother and friend, then stepped out of the tent, still shaking off the nightmares flowers and taking to ghosts gave her.

Bodies were wandering the camp already, even if it was early morning, all blinking and basking in the morning sun. Most of them looked like lizards warming up to the day; and all of them acted like it.

Silent eyes followed her every move. Wiping her eyes carefully, Henna took stock of the dangers walking to the privy would entail.

The dangers, as usual, were all people this morning. First, there were the informers and spotters. They were always out scanning the camp, practising their treacheries and looking for something to talk about. Cannibalism gossip was a lifestyle in the bandit camp, you got used to that; and all the nasty tricks people played on each other.

Being knifed in the back was only the start of the normal day-to-day talk here. More serious social enemies got accused of having a hidden weapon, littering and being a beggar, too. Then the neighbors got mean.

Most of them were just insanely jealous of her, Henna told herself. Starting with her long red hair and moving on to anything else they knew about.

"Hello, Helga." She said quietly to the girl next door, sunning herself outside her own tent. Helga's overnight company was still snoring away inside, making a noisy racket inside the tent.

Helga, hating female competition determinedly, glared maliciousness at Henna, sniffed, turned her head and didn't say anything back. Henna had expected that. Helga was a typical camp girl, a poisonous gossip. If she didn't get exactly what she wanted fairly instantly, her politics came out and hit hard. She turned malicious.

Mean and petty, nasty brutish and short. Almost anything else from her was probably was a trap.

Silence was normal treatment, Henna reminded herself. Witches always got treated that way, unless someone wanted something from you.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Another of the many camp gossips popped out of a tent and watched Henna balefully as she headed first to the trench, then headed off to her small garden plot. Henna stretched sadly as she worked the kinks in her muscles out. Blast. Quite a few sets of eyes were following her hungrily. Too many of them. Someone wanted something. Anyone who cared to listen would know where to find her today, already.

That wasn't always good news with bandits.

The second type came up real fast as Henna watched Helga out of the corner of her eye while marching towards the gardens. The fixers. The gossips, (finks, flatters and informers) kept their opportunist captains clued in, and for a price, the captains would arrange deals. Deals that did them a lot of good and almost nothing for you past the smile and handshake part.

Henna tried not to think about what Helga got from her captain for good information.

Bingo. She watched Helga march to a tent close to hers and sighed again. Jacob's tent. Jacob the dealer. If anyone had noticed her bringing flowers home last night the fixers would be informed and interested, or soon would be.

That wasn't always good news either. Fixers normally took as much as they could for as little as they could promise now. They were bandits, after all. Tantrums were a way of life here. Grinding out every deal and always making very serious efforts to get everything for free first.

Another one of the fixers was leaning against a tent post, sunning himself awake and watching her with one eye. Samuel the con. He nodded at her carefully as Henna passed him; she nodded back just as carefully. She knew she'd have to hide her bug-juice a little better than usual today or it'd all be gone when she got back to the tent.

Samuel was a special danger. She had suspicions he was about to offer her brother a deal he couldn't refuse for his little red-haired sister and the bride-price would be everything she had, along with the tent, her brother and anything else moveable. Fixers lived in stalker world, not fink-world. Looting anything they could was their version of fixing things. If her traps got the first bandit that came around today, the second one in would get the leftovers.

Captains were a pain. Professional-grade pains. And cold. It's what they did for a living, after all. Whoever was willing to spend the most troops got the booty, usually. The battle yesterday must've convinced a few of them black-fly season was not the best time to be sweating out in the open.

Henna grimaced to herself. The third type of person was already in her tent.

Weasels. People like her brother's friend, currently sleeping his victory celebration off and surrounded by lots of booby-trapped witch goods.

Weasels were the ones the captains ordered out to do the dirty work; dirty work like trying to steal bug-glop and secrets from the local witch. Idiots, most of them. They survived by not thinking about anything except their orders and the hope they were getting something for nothing.

Something for nothing. That was bandit philosophy. Henna the Red pulled her hair into place and tied it back as she grimaced to herself at its feel. Any prank, move, tantrum or attack here in camp was always an attempt to get something for nothing. That was the only creed bandits lived by; and nearly the only way anyone could survive out in the badlands.

The camp was a bit worse than that too, she mused to herself. Bandits were relatively simple to deal with; their simple berserker attacks walked them right into traps. Politics and gossip came next and was a bit trickier, as you never really knew what snoops were going to say. Another girl had taken credit for Henna's first magics, then tried to get Henna banned from the camp for sleeping in the same tent as her brother did, for instance.

Informer-snoops were always trying to get in the way and claim credit. That was one of their more persistent traits.

Henna considered the various other current gang-leaders in the camp and briefly wondered who would approach her first about getting some bug repellent today. Her brother's foreman would definitely be around looking for a special deal; and anything else he could get from her. He was no different from any of the other captains. She had to forcibly empty his pockets after his visits and had listened to him throw pilfered goods away more than once as traps went off in his pocket.

When she missed something, the screaming that resulted from an idiot messing with her herbs usually told her where to look for whatever had gone missing. And whoever needed some emergency treatment now, usually.

There was a good chance her brother's captain would just deal today, and not send in the clowns. Some of the more bored captains still tried to do their own evil deeds, but those daredevils didn't live very long, especially when they raided a witch's home. A smart captain was a full-time coward, good at ordering his minions into trouble, then claiming all the booty and credit from successful raids for himself.

Most were even better at pinning the blame for failure on anyone who happened to be handy, or better yet, not there at all. That was life here in the camp.

The gardens were close to her tent. Henna the red ducked low and semi-crawled thru a small hole low in the hedge surrounding her plot, checking to see it was still a good barrier for keeping her crops safe. Simple traps were the best. Most of the older bandits weren't any good at going low anymore and young ones won't notice the ant-hills and traps you had to skip getting thru the bushes till it was far too late.

Plus she had other, magical defences against carrot thieves. The garden was waiting for her inside. Sun-baked mud with wilting greens embedded in it sat there, surrounded by thick, thorny brush; still unmolested in the sun. Henna the red-haired stood up, stretched, shook out her hair and started brushing her hair with her fingers as she chatted with the ghosts she had guarding the small potato bushes and other greenery in the garden plot.

She took their reports calmly. These ghosts were ex-caravan guards, naturally. The ghosts most used to guard-duty and happiest doing something they understood. They said everything had been quiet since her last visit, with only a few people peeping over the hedge occasionally.

They hadn't even had to attack anyone.

There was one blessing Yesterday's raid had kept everyone busy, too busy to try stealing from her garden.

There weren't many children in the camp at all. Her garden was safe from them.

Henna sighed and thanked the guards. She shook her head sadly as she brushed and pulled knots out of her hair. Her long red hair needed washing, but it was too nice a day to even think about trying to get a few unguarded minutes somewhere upstream to get any serious cleaning done. The plants needed watering more than she needed a rinse, anyway.

She sat and dreamily munched a carrot, idly pulling a few weeds and listening to the ghost-guards as she braided her hair. Yesterday's flower pickings had stayed a long time with her. She didn't even need another dose of flower-top to see and hear ghosts.

That was a little worrying to her. Being able to see and talk to the dead looked like it was becoming a permanent part of her, not something she did out in the hills when it got boring, or in camp when she wanted to check on gossip.

Henna shrugged. Maybe it was harvesting the flowers that'd given her an extra dose. Even if she did start seeing ghosts permanently, that was just one more thing to be dealt with. Being able to avoid those cursed with angry ghosts, another part of the local magical landscape, was a plus, not an aggravation. She was using them for garden-guards herself anyway, right?

Henna sighed and relaxed. The garden was a relatively peaceful spot, as far as the bandit camp went. Flowers were steaming the morning dew off in the bright sun; each of them had a small cloud of insects humming over top of it. Birds were diving thru the insect clouds, getting breakfast. Cats were silently stalking their way thru the brush, eyeing the birds intently.

There was even a cur or two from camp wandering the pathway, sniffing garbage and watching the cats, hoping to chase them away from their breakfasts. Life was quiet and normal, even to the gleaming skulls Henna had posted around her garden plot.

Ignoring the screaming that started coming from her tent was easy. It exploded out of her tent and traveled down the path in short bursts; ending up with a brief splash and some smothered gurgles coming from the creek.

She sniffed and ignored the sounds of someone complaining vigorously about her treatment of guests coming from the creek. Her brother's friend, she was sure. From the sounds of it, someone had gotten pepper-dust in the eyes again.

Henna giggled quietly to herself. If you pulled too hard on certain bags and things that were hanging in her tent, they poofed dust at you. Hard. Some of the more obvious small hanging bags had hidden spikes inside, some were dusty, and one had a blade hidden in it. All of the strings were treated with itch-wax. Henna regretted not being able to set crossbows up, but if she had any serious weapons her brother would've taken them on raids long ago.

She crushed a few leaves of something spicy in her hands and stuffed the crunchy remains in her pocket, then started the tedious chore of watering her plants. The fresh spices in her pocket would have to do until she found time enough to wash and dry her clothes.

A bath or quick rinse in the creek while doing the watering sounded good, but you only walked thru camp with a wet top on once. You learned that bandits were very observant and very crude the hard way if you did.

Feeling much better and semi-fed, Henna sighed, finished the weeding and trudged off to get some water for her plants. They were getting dry and it would take most of the morning to water them thoroughly.

***

## chapter 11 rapid swim

Poking myself away from rocks in the river with my staff got tiring real fast. After a minute or so in those rapids, I was going fast enough the staff would slam into me like a lance as it pushed back, shoving me away from the rocks; as it tried to break ribs, too. If it didn't just punch me in the face. My wild swimming forced me take what seemed like steps in the wrong direction to my geas-curse, which hurt a lot too.

Stepping in the wrong direction hurt... A lot... And that made your concentration slip. If your concentration slipped and you didn't poke yourself away from the rocks and noisy white water in time, you banged into them fast and hard instead of getting staff-punched, then got tumbled at high speed over the rest of the shallow rocky rapids behind it. That hurt a lot more and kept you stunned enough to walk in the wrong direction a lot.

It was a fast learning-curve. I started swearing for a while, then praying, but even that soon degenerated into a long series of agonized yelps. Rapidly accumulating pains as rocks and my staff slammed into the same spots again and again made for a fairly noisy swim.

Well, noisy tumble. Kick, yelp, poke at the white water coming at you, try not to take the staff in the face as it stopped and you didn't, weave around as the rock trying to break a few of your ribs went by, inhale as much as you could before you got sprayed back under, swallow some more air, go under, kick up and try to get your head back up into air again, look for oncoming rocks. As you got banged and rolled thru the shallow spots.

Repeat indefinitely. They were very long rapids. The only decent part of the trip was the rapids weren't very deep in spots; if you could brace yourself against the current by holding onto a rock, after slamming into it, you could rest a little as you got swished around. If you didn't thrash yourself right back into the white water, of course.

If you didn't try to stand up in the shallows, it was a lot like rolling down a rocky cliff. I found about that the hard way, naturally. After clinging to a rock for a few minutes, I found river-bottom was fairly close. By stubbing my bare toes on it a few times and getting body-slammed into it repeatedly.

Standing up was next, but naturally enough, my geas promptly forced me to start walking back into the deep water. The current was wicked, too. I did find other ways to rest as I caromed down the river rapids, screaming as I went, but they were all underwater and not much help.

I'm glad there was nothing that liked blood in the river-foam there. Scrapes, bruises and contusions accumulated all over me as I barrelled downriver fast, screaming all the way. Well, whimpering by now. Screaming takes a lot of energy.

Finally getting to march out of the water a few long and weary miles downstream from Charlie's place was a blessing, even if I could hardly move by that point. I was so banged up and tired I could hardly see; just barely poling my way out of the water with my staff. As luck would have it, I didn't need to climb a bank to get out of the river, just force my way thru some thick thorny bushes.

I hardly noticed the extra scratches from the brambles. I took stock of myself while stumbling and marching into the old quiet woods ahead. I was dead tired, soggy, scratched up, bruised, bootless, tired, bleeding, barely able to hang onto my staff and without even a knapsack, but alive; and now I had a plan too, thanks to Charlie's constant nattering back in the hut.

Looking for rafters from the hilltops I had to hobble over kept me occupied over the next few hours. I was looking for one of their logging camps.

Rafters went downstream on raw logs roped together, using the current to end up at the city. If I could get on a raft, I could sit on a log and water-march all day, and end up somewhere I could get help with this curse instead of being stuck in the middle of the bush looking for food every night.

Ride, not walk. Fish for food. Rest and heal my sorely battered body. Get help in town removing the geas. Rafting, that was my plan.

All I had to do was find some shattered winter-cut logs by the river. From a grove of trees that'd been blown down by storms, as they were the rafting points. One dead ahead of me, naturally. After my day's march was finished I wanted to walk into one of the camps, not try to backtrack to one at all.

I mused and hoped as I stumbled thru the deep woods. Rafters had it easy, compared to wizard's apprentices. Cutting the trees down was simple and danger-free. You make a few small cuts in a tree-trunk with an axe in summer; winter wind-storms would blow it down for you. Then you dug it out of the snow and dragged it to the river-ice. Tie them together during spring floods, then the whole mess got rafted to the city for sale as lumber, firewood, or sometimes even as a raft to go further downriver carrying goods.

You just rode the raft into town, fishing all the way and sold it as lumber and firewood when you got there. Easy work.

This sounded like a good plan to me. I might even get hired as a guard, not a passenger if I could swing the wizard's apprentice bit on the rafters at all. If nothing else, I could swim to a raft and sneak a ride to town, fishing, swim-walking and sleeping the whole way there.

I added lots of healing to that list as I stumbled thru the bush. A whole lot of deep healing, as the rapids had banged me around good and my body was letting me know all about that now. The river was even headed in the same general direction I was, most of the time. I might even get the day's distance done fast just sitting there sleeping, if I was lucky enough to start walking at midnight.

I was pretty sure I could find some way to cook the fish I wanted to catch on a raft made of wood. My wild magic made that part of my plan the only part I wasn't worried about. Fire on the river looked like the only easy part of the trip.

The rest of that day's walk was the usual collection of horrors. Mostly I tried to stop myself from wading into the swamps at the bottom of hills with my new bark shoes, something I'd grabbed from a rotting tree I'd had to climb over at some point.

The bottom of hills was where the winding streams were cut into the soil and most of them were steep, deep cuts; a lot of the streams had mud-banks you couldn't climb without ropes. Another problem was you had to see the streams first before trying to jump over them. Bushes lining the banks usually prevented that.

I was in the middle of a particularly mucky almost-a-lake between two hills, jumping from sinking tuft to sinking grass-tuft when my geas finally shut down for the day. I almost collapsed right on the spot, but that'd leave me stranded in the middle of a starving bug-swarm, up to my knees in a swamp-lake that was doubling as a quickmuck pit and with the attentions of several rather puzzled bears, squirrels, birds and a muskrat or two focused on me. I also hurt so badly I could barely move.

I mucked on and I was not clean when I got out of that swamp. I wasn't very clean when I had gone in there and now I was so far from clean even the green slime over everything was avoiding me; bruised and bleeding everywhere else too.

Black and green muck was caked on thick on what was left of my robe and bark-slippers; reeds and vines were in my hair, adding more weight and making it even harder to walk. Calling my stagger a walk was generous now anyway, as I tended to fall and slide wherever I went.

Green slime is slippery. Collapsing on the first dry spot I found out of the swamp, I spent some time lying on my back spitting out mud, magically frying the hungry bugs and leeches all over me, trying not to move and breathing hard till I got my composure back.

That and combing muck out of my hair, eyes and whatever skin I could find underneath the swamp-trash that'd gotten slimed all over me.

I finally did get up, but only after I heard a bear snuffling about in the bush. Another stumbling walk would save me from being bear-bait and get me to the rafters, I hoped.

My staff was the only thing holding me up anymore and had been for a while now. If a bear had attacked me then, I'd have to sit and watch him eat me. I was too tired to fight, but luck was with me. There was a camp just over the next low hill, one beside a bend in the river. I hoped. It had smoke plumes and everything, so I knew there were people there; the rafts would be putting out to town soon too.

Or I'd steal one, if I had to; maybe just ride a log into town. I couldn't hurry anymore, but I could stumble. I was looking forward to finding the camp, so I forced myself up and into the bush.

The bear ignored me. Oddly enough, when I walked into the small rough camp on the bottom of the next hill, everyone ran. They started screaming as soon as I slithered out of the bush and into the campsite.

I was still covered in swamp muck, as my clean-up had ended when I could breathe again. The weird gait my pains forced on me, an interesting collection of raw wounds and my staff, (which looked almost like another leg by that point) scared them, I guess. Impersonating a zombie-monster from the lost lagoon was a new look, even to me, and it didn't impress very many of the woodcutters favorably.

Forcing myself to lurch sideways into the camp was a relief, even with all the bruises I had collected on the day letting me know about places I didn't even know I had. There weren't any more bush or trees to try and avoid; I was profoundly grateful for that much even as everyone in the camp ran away screaming.

Maybe I shouldn't've been groaning so much.

Everyone in the camp took one look at me and left in a hurry, most of them noisily. None of them were looking back that I noticed.

Frying bugs and leeches off me as I stalked into camp didn't help, but you could only stand so much itching. The magic was boiling caked mud and bug parts off me in little clouds and poofs of steam and I yelped occasionally too, as the bugs or stray magic bit hard.

The place stayed deserted as I stood there and weaved in place, groaning, moaning and desperately trying to stay standing up by leaning on my staff. The screaming raftsmen never did come back as I rested there at the edge of the camp.

I did the obvious. Staggering over to the fire, I helped myself to some of the supper they left cooking on the campfire. All I could eat, actually. Hot beans manna. There was even a pair of boots lying around that almost fit me and I took them too as I headed for the river.

I was too tired to carry the boots for very far, thou. I didn't dare stop and sit down. I'd never get back up again and any angry raftsmen sneaking back into camp would probably fill me with arrows as I slept.

My sideways shuffle-gait eventually got me to the beach and into clean water. I could feel the swamp muck sluicing off. After warming up a rapidly stiffening body by thrashing around, I floated on my back to the raft closest to me, feeling the river-water clean my aching wounds gratefully.

Thankfully, the rafts were very close to shore and only loosely tied up. They were ready to go. I clambered on a close small log-boom bobbing out in the river with my staff and collapsed on the bark-covered logs there, sobbing.

This looked like a raft to me; I was staying there on the logs, even if it wasn't one. I blasted it free of the rope tying it up and didn't care anymore, I wasn't traveling any further today. I'd made it this far, started looking human again, and gotten hidden from view. Eventually, I would make it into town and get some help from the resident wizards there with this stupid curse of mine.

Someone had prepped the boom for travel by building a small bower-bed of branches on it between two roughly-tied logs; logs thankfully on the edge of the raft. I collapsed on it, dug in gratefully, and fell asleep almost instantly with my staff under me as I floated away.

***

## chapter 12 oh brother

"So he tripped over one of my booby-trapped bags? Which one?"

"Pardon?" Henna's brother Ali turned his head slightly and looked at his sister askance. "Traps? I don't think I heard that right."

Henna sighed wearily, shaking her head sadly. If her brother Ali had a weak point, it was that he refused to hear anything except his sister was a powerful witch that could wipe the whole camp out if she got annoyed. It made dealing with him clumsy on occasion. "Fine. One of my spells hit him. He activated a magic spell and got royally cursed. I whammied him, if you must. Which one did he grab?"

Henna's brother smiled faintly. "The one with spikes in it. The spikes have been dusted with mustard, right? He grabbed it trying to fall away from something else, then backed into a bag that puffed smoke at him."

"It looks like he tried to get away with the bag in his hand. Or at least stuck to it." Henna muttered, looking over her string of drying herbs. "There's drops of blood all over. All this after accidentally trying to eat one of the peppers there, then trying to drink spunky water, right? The peppers that look like sweet-meats. Got it. It's no wonder he ran screaming. It's a wonder he hasn't drunk the creek dry."

"He has learned a valuable lesson." Ali smirked to himself happily. "It'll be a long, long time before he tries to touch anything in here again."

"So has most of the camp. The witch's tent is cursed. Everything in it will try to kill you, including the witch, her brother and the doormat." Henna sounded gloomy and hung up her watering skin angrily. "We'll be getting visits from captains asking us not to kill our guests and visitors again. And they'll be annoyed."

"I can handle that." Henna's brother smiled happily. "Or you can. And it won't be soon. Oh, I didn't tell you last night. Get ready. We're going into town today."

"Really? If you have any money, I want some." Henna grumbled, pleased with the news. A trip to town was a rare treat, and having money to spend there even rarer. "First, I want to sell some of the bug repellent to your captains. It's almost ready. There should be lots of people lined up for it today."

"Yah. It'll be popular in town, too. Bring lots. The bugs were murder yesterday, or were until a breeze came up. Trying to stay still, hidden in the grass between the ants and the bite-flies was murder." Henna's brother smiled again. "But the caravan master paid us all in advance to attack someone else. I have money."

"I'll be getting some of that cash from the more bitten warriors if the bugs were really bad yesterday." Henna mused to herself. "Unfortunately, most of them haven't paid for the last batch yet. Maybe a few of my self-appointed enemies will be around looking for some fresh dead meat, too. Our latest guest, for instance."

"Don't worry about the gossips. They can't hurt you." Henna's brother was unperturbed about how much the other girls in camp hated Henna; he refused to believe it was a problem. Henna glared peevishness at him.

"Yes, dear brother. They're a completely harmless group. That's why I line the garden and our tent with skulls. They'd do a lot more than gossip if they could and you know it." She snapped at him. "Now where's my clean top? I can't go to town in dirty clothes. And a bag for collecting flowers and plants we pass on the way. Maybe I can sell them in town. And..."

"Sister dear, if you're ready we can ride a wagon into town." Henna's brother stretched and sounded bored. "We fixed a few wheels yesterday on a wagon that got abandoned and brought it back with us."

"Stole parts from one to fix another, you mean." Henna answered absently. "That sounds good, thou. Riding is always better than walking, even if it's only one way." Henna dug thru her small pile of clothes. (Both skirts, both tops and her cape.) None of them were clean enough for shopping, but there might be something she could do to fix that before she got into town. "Hey, wait. A cart? Where did you get the horse?" She asked her brother suspiciously.

"It was a runaway." There was a pause, some guilty rummaging and a slow answer from her sibling. "From the opposite direction of the town. It won't cause any trouble."

Henna glared at him a little more. "Ha. You know what happened the last time we took a horse into town." She reminded him. "Three people tried to say it was theirs and that was at the tavern, before we even got into town. It took hours to make the sale. And a wagon?"

"And a wagon. A cart. Both of them are for sale, they're part of the loot." Her brother admitted quietly. "Now move fast. Half the camp will want a ride with us if we don't leave soon, and selling an exhausted horse is a lot harder than selling a fresh one."

"You want me to oil the axle for you, right? Oh, right. That's why I got invited." Henna sighed wearily. This was another ghost trick she's learned. You used sap as grease to loosen the wheels on a cart; they turned a lot easier. It made for a much quieter ride and a less than dead-tired horse when you got to town.

"Yet another magic spell that'll make the trip into town fast, quiet and smooth? Why, dear sister, that'd be wonderful!" Ali gave her a gentle push towards the entrance to the tent. "Start now before anyone notices."

"You start hiding things. And if I don't get out there soon, everyone in the village will be watching and trying to steal my secrets." Henna sighed heavily. "I know, I know. I'm going already."

Henna rubbed her hands together, trying to get rid of the dirt she's picked up weeding. Splashing in the creek while she watered her plants wasn't much of a wash for a shopping trip, but it would have to do. "Will your idiot friend be coming?" She asked her brother pensively. A full day of someone cringing and watching her hard didn't sound like a lot of fun, and last night's guest would have very clear memories of what it was like to have her around today.

"Nope. He's got plans of his own." Her brother sniggered and got out a battered pair of gloves. He had learned the hard way how to handle Henna's witching goods. "Most of them will include running behind his tent every few minutes, but he doesn't know that yet. Trying to eat those peppers was a silly idea."

"Wait. I'll need a few of those." Henna nodded and started digging thru her collection of potions, oil-seeds and bottles Ali was hiding. Some of this would sell well in town, she hoped.

If she had to de-squeak a cart before they left, she'd better get started on it now before the whole village came out to watch.

If she hurried, she could get the real work done without having to make as magic ceremony of it for the crowd.

***

## chapter 13 raft along the waterways

I woke up with a branch from the bower I'd fallen sleep in sticking into my back, the sun in my eyes, my geas kicking in and a spear in my face.

The raft was rocking gently in the water. The spear was new; it was also very smelly. It was obviously a spear that'd been used to catch a lot of fish before being put to guard-use on me.

It was a thick, smelly, sharpened stick with the pointy end digging into my nose. There was a shadow behind it; and a bright sun behind that.

"Wake up, stranger. Explain what you're doing on this raft." A gruff tone hiding in the glare didn't sound all that excited about finding a live body with him on the water. I blinked confusion and tried to erk out a quick explanation.

That didn't work very well. I'm not used to being attacked while asleep, and I was getting hit with pain three different ways this morning, magically from my geas, my body starting revolt at having to move at all; and spearingly.

The rocking of the logs in the water didn't help me any as I blearily raised one hand to block the brilliant sunshine and see where I'd ended up this time. Naturally enough, as soon as I moved my geas kicked in and my legs promptly scissored into a walk even as I laid there.

The spear withdrew to a prudent distance as I struggled to wake up and get some control of several conflicting impulses.

"Watch out, stranger. I'm under a wizard's curse." I grunted as I tried to swing myself around on the log and get my legs into the water. The grunts were mostly gasps of pain, as my body didn't want to move yet and the bark I moving on was wet. The pseudo-swim splashing was my best bet for getting a few seconds to spare and deciding just what other problem to deal with first.

"Sorry about the splashing, but I have no choice. It's magic."

The water-walk I was trying to get going was something I figured out yesterday. Splashing like this with my legs was hopefully something I could do till the raft made my day's distance for me; and it might even quiet my geas down a little.

There was a glitch, thou. There hadn't been any plans for trying to kick with very battered legs and an extremely bruised body. Moving anything at all hurt me, and a lot. I did notice that a bend in the river was coming up, thou as I started kicking water, thou. Not good news for me. It looked suspiciously like we'd be traveling in the wrong direction very soon.

"Better plug your ears, too. This is gonna get noisy." I added as I got my butt settled on the log underneath me and my legs thrashing in the water. The spear was digging into my back as I got settled and I groaned my way into the day's chores. I wearily splashed some river water on my face with one hand and watched my legs kick and splash sadly.

My gown was stiff, crinkly stained from the swamp mud, slowly getting cold and wet again; I was starving, too. The water that came off my face was stained green.

"Say, did I sleep long?" I groaned as various aches and pains began to make their presence felt all over my body. The rapids yesterday had been a mean trip and I was suffering from their batterings. "Aaron the Apprentice, at your service, sir. I'm a wizard. Or at least an apprentice to one."

There was silence behind me and I could feel the spear wielder trying to decide if just pushing me off the raft would solve all his problems or not. Then the wizard part of my talk began to sink in and I could feel him back off a little.

"Another stupid failed apprentice. Just great. On a gate-quest? You looking for a free ride into town, right? Want some help getting your curse removed there?" The voice sounded real bored and that of a very old man. Apparently I was not the only apprentice to try this rafting trick recently. "Won't work. Better apprentices than you have tried it and it never works."

"Right." I answered watching the river bend get closer and closer to us. "No help in town. Ask your questions fast, please. And take it easy with the spear. As soon as we start moving east, I'll be busy trying to control the magic on me. Or at least stop the screaming."

The raft lurched right then as we floated into a fast little current. I yelped as we took a small bump in the wrong direction.

"You can't go east? You made a poor choice of transport then, almost-a-wizard." The voice grunted wearily behind me. "Rafts tend to wander all over the water unless you can pole well."

"Or paddle a lot. And you're also kicking in the wrong direction. I'd get on the other side of the raft if I were you." The voiced added absently. "As a group, you wizards are none too bright, did you know that?"

"Great. Just what I need after riding the rapids and walking the swamps yesterday. A wrong-way river. Gimme a pole." I said instantly. I could feel my geas twitching and it's agony was just adding to all the aches and pains I developed yesterday. "I'll work on it. And getting to the other side of this thing when I can move again."

"Say, where's my staff? It was the only thing that got me on this thing last night." I asked suspiciously as I looked around quickly.

"Oh, that stick is yours? It's being used as a fishing pole. No good anyway. The river is probably 'way too deep here for poling." The rafter finally pulled the spear away from my back and I could feel him slump and relax a little. "You came thru the swamps yesterday? That must've been real messy. Then scared the camp off good, right? The place was still deserted when I wandered thru yesterday."

"I want my staff back. Yes, that was me clearing the camp out. I wasn't looking my best when I got out of the muck. I came in groaning a lot and still magicking bugs off. Bleeding, too. Everyone ran off. So you just untied the raft and took off this morning?" I grunted, already busy trying to convince my geas that I was moving in the right direction with legs that hurt to move at all. "Great. Does anyone know about it yet?"

The sway of the raft in the river cancelled my frantic leg churning and my geas made it's presence felt in a firm, demanding manner even as I pushed the whole raft the in the wrong direction. I could feel exhaustion setting in my legs already too, and the day hadn't even started yet.

"Nope." The grunt sounded very satisfied with itself now. "I got the raft for free, just like you. Late last night. Found it untied and pushed it into the currents. Help me get it to town and you get ten percent of the selling price, how's that?"

"This one is too shattered to be lumber. It'll make good charcoal, thou." The voice muttered to himself, looking around at the split logs carefully. "If you can hang around long enough to collect it, that is." The old man chuckled happily to himself. "Most of the apprentices don't. I hear the easy way to be rid of them is to kick them off the raft before you hit town and just let them walk off. They don't ever come back, according to the stories. I'm Harry."

The voice sounded smug at that. The noise settled down behind me and I turned my head to look at him, one hand stuffed in my mouth to smother some of the more piercing yelps as our direction shifted and my geas snapped into full gear again.

My new companion and partner-in-crime was another gnarled old woodcutter, just the last one I'd met, Charlie the opportunist. Except he was more stooped and much, much older. Harry he said his name was. Harry was withered, bald, gnarled, weather-beaten, tanned, dressed in rags and only had one tooth left.

This nasty old relic had even worse plans for me than Charlie did, too.

Well, older, gnarlier and another obvious fishing nut; plus he looked lazier than shade and shook with palsy when he wasn't trying to control it. The withered old goat blinked and gummed in the sun as he stood on a lashed log at the edge of our small boom in the river, using his spear to steady himself now against the slow rocking. He was dressed in the remains of a simple canvas smock covered in stains and blinking at me like he knew something I didn't.

He was old and his name suited him. Harry the hermit. His ears had enough tufts of stringy hair long enough to shame most beards; that and eyebrows was almost the only hair he had left.

My staff was currently jammed between two logs and trailing a line into the water on the upstream end of the raft.

I looked around, as I hadn't gotten much of a chance to do that yesterday. The raft was not an impressive thing. There couldn't've been more than nine logs in the whole thing, five below and four split, cracked and shattered smaller logs on top. Only the middle of it was vined together. Any serious bumping in the current or a rough ride and the whole thing would tear apart. You'd have to ride a single log or gather them all up again.

"This thing isn't all that robust, is it?" I whimpered out as pain surged thru me in waves. I cringed and winced, twitching as pain spread. "Say, what happens when the water gets rough?"

"Lots of splashing and swimming." The old man grunted. "Instead of fishing. Hope it happens during the day, surprise swimming at night is hard on you. Nasty way to wake up. If you're lucky you find a log and stay in the current, or get on the next raft in your string. Get used to the idea of fast water cause the river rises every time it rains, and it does rain a lot here. The streams fill, water hits the river a couple hours later. Sometimes we can pull over and avoid it, sometimes you get a fast run into town."

"Sometimes we end up swimming. Rain makes the rapids rough, OK, I get it. Give me ten more minutes." I gasped as waves of pain started spreading all over me as the raft eased it's way into the bend. "We can talk more when we start heading in the right direction again."

"Better move to the downstream side. You're still pushing yourself west, young fella." The old man blinked, then wandered over to where he had a branch or two from my bed jammed between logs for shade at the other end of the raft. There was a fishing line at the end of my staff there. "You'll find that soon enough, I guess. Right. I'll be fishing over here, lemme know when you're magicked out. Try not to scare the wildlife any more than you have to, wouldja? And the fish. We gotta eat sometime."

Hopping over to the end of the raft while still on my butt hurt but moving at all was an accomplishment I was proud of. I could barely speak thru the pain as I slithered over, but I got to the end of the raft.

I didn't say any more as the river had finally eased into the small bend and started moving seriously in the wrong direction.

The geas did not like that at all, regardless of what my legs were doing. My kicking the water wasn't helping things much, but the alternative was moving to the other side of the raft and pushing back towards shore. My whimpering started increasing in volume as our direction changed.

"Try and keep it down, wizard. Apprentices!" The old man grumbled as he settled himself back down in the shade beside his fishing lines, ignoring me. "Tools and education way past anything they'll ever get anything done with, Nothing except digging themselves a rut to hide in." He grumbled.

I wasn't arguing with that, pain was occupying my attention. The pain of moving, the pain of traveling in the wrong direction and yesterday's pains coming back to say hello again.

Harry was right, thou. The search for money, power and fame killed more apprentices than wizards did, or so my old master had told me. It ruined most of the rest.

Witches had problems with relationships, security and stability. That was their magical pratfall. Wizards had other problems.

Then the pain got blinding, too intense for me to do anything but sit there and blindly kick, shoving the raft downstream and hoping we started moving in the right direction again soon.

***

## chapter 14 cart ride to town

Marvin the Maladroit was a ghost, Henna's favorite and like her, always enjoyed the rare trips they made into town. Henna, while traveling with her brother Ali, couldn't really talk to him all that much, so Marvin was mostly a non-stop source of chatter in her ears as the cart slowly bounced over grassland, rattling behind the old tired horse her brother had gotten somewhere yesterday.

It was a slow ride, as the horse was very old and more interested in grass than walking to town. There wasn't much of a trail and even greasing the axle hadn't stopped all the wood-on-wood screaming from the cart axle.

The grasslands were still the grasslands, always green and boring, always an empty sea of waving green with dry-dirt brown spots showing thru here and there on the hillsides.

Henna was getting a running lecture from Marvin on which of the hills were really grave sites that'd been looted of treasure long ago, various places where the big battles had been and the occasional aside on the wizards involved in the battles.

She suffered thru it while scouting for worthwhile plants to harvest. She did that little chore by herself. Her brother had only to copy that activity once before the effects of some out-of-season roots and convinced him that harvesting was best left to experts.

She did it cheerfully. Nobody passed up a chance to make money in the badlands. If there'd been a market for dandelions, Henna would be cheerfully collecting them right now for sale in town.

The history of the badlands was boring and long, and so was the ghostly lecture. Several governments had fought viciously over the gate while it was running, mostly over the money it generated. At different times, so had several wizards, every local bandit gang and several demons from the other side of the gate when their battles spilled over to this side and the other world it connected to when the local taxes got too harsh.

Not even Marvin could tell if the gate-demons still wandering here were government, wizard or bandit ghosts; the demon-ghosts still mournfully wandering the hills on this side of the gate weren't saying much about it.

The concept seemed to confuse them somehow.

There was a language barrier there, too. Henna didn't bother the demon-ghosts about it anymore. As far as ghosts went, Marvin was one of the more coherent ones, even if he was a nag. Marvin had mentioned ghost was the wrong term for him, once, something Henna puzzled over occasionally.

He was actually closer to an avatar or magiced leftovers, but could become a real ghost if he called hard enough. Henna ignored most of that, as it didn't make much sense. She sighed as the lecture went on and on, trying to think of chores for Marvin to do on the ride into town, chores she could give him quickly in a low, fast tone. (How ripe were those oil-seeds there? Were the cattails still edible? Any musk-leaf around?)

If she was going into town, she'd need a lot more bug-juice than she had with her anyway. Anything she could find on the way there was bonus.

Her brother ignored her quiet mutterings and dozed on the bench beside her. Talking to spirits did enhance her reputation as a witch, but when the townspeople saw her grumbling and giggling to herself a lot, Henna got avoided and not patronized, and she wanted to do some serious trading today. As much as she could, in fact.

She had witchcraft for sale today, lots of it. Cures and potions. Herbs and fresh spices. Curses and ghosts removed for a price. Most of a small bag filled with things the townspeople couldn't get themselves was going to be her main source of income and also the best way she had of getting out of the bandit camp.

If she could make enough money, she could move into town as a full-time witch.

Unfortunately, the average townie was as tight with their cash as the merchants and bandits were, so there wasn't any, usually. Actual coin was very rare out in the boonies. But her bug-juice and perfumes were bound to be popular. The town, after all, did not smell very good in the spring and summer heat and planting flowers under your window only worked in a few places.

The girls in town always liked her new perfumes, but they never had any money.

Everyone hated bugs. Anything that stopped you from chewed on in summer was bound to be popular.

If Henna was lucky, she could get some real handy goods too, something that help her get away from the bandit camp, but actual money was rare, most of what she had to do was barter. That process got extra difficult when Marvin started snipping about the bargaining while it was going on.

Marvin was an ex-wizard, one of the ones that'd gotten killed traveling to the gate. He was very used to driving barter-bargains in his life with grumpy townsfolk; watching Henna strike a good deal always pleased him.

He did help her cheat outrageously by checking on things for her, like holes hidden in the cloth, or over-spiced meat. Meat that was over-spiced to hide the fact it was a lot riper than it looked.

"No flax. There is a nice patch of catnip just ahead, thou." Marvin the maladroit bobbed beside Henna's head and chuckled happily to himself. "Do you feel any pressing need to cement your reputation as a witch by attracting all the cats in town to you? Some of the patch just bloomed."

"No thanks." Henna adjusted the blanket she was sitting on nervously. Her brother just clucked to the horse and went back into his dose. "Talking to myself all day does enough of that all by itself."

Henna watched her brother for a moment. Yesterday's raid and celebration had tired him out, and he needed the rest. He was technically doing the driving thou, even if the horse seemed to know the way there better than he did.

"Is there anything worth collecting on this route? I don't really have enough goods for a full day of trading." Henna asked Marvin in exasperation. The ride so far had been very dull, and not much in the way of collectibles had turned up.

"Just some of the demon-weed that leaked over." Some wind-blown seeds from strange plants on the other side of the gate. There were a few mysterious plants here and there in the badlands.

"I have no idea what's it's good for. No-one does." Marvin bobbed happily beside her and watched the horse ahead of them whisk some pesky flies off his rear with his tail. "What we really need is something to put some life into that sad-looking horse your brother got." he added carefully. Henna gave him a nasty look. There were plants that would perk the horse up for a while, but the horse was entirely likely to lie down and die at inopportune moments during the bargaining if he got into them.

"No. No doping. Relax, we'll get to town eventually. It's the walk home I'm not looking forward to." She mentioned quietly. She did not want her brother to be reminded about horse-weed. He'd be silly enough to try it.

"Say, your brother is tried. He might want to spend a little time in the inn when we get to town." Marvin observed candidly. And hopefully. Marvin liked hanging about the inn, but needed Henna's magic to get inside. The inn had had more than a few wizards stay there and was well protected against ghosts, magically.

"That means a nap or two on the way home, and possibly some camping." he added absently. "If you can get him to carry your stuff home for you at all."

"I know. I want to sell out of goods before he manages to get rid of the horse and cart." Henna looked at the rickety cart she was riding in and sighed. "And I just might, these are both relics. Very hard to sell as anything but meat. Then I want to go shopping. This cart is hardly more than firewood. Better hope we get all the way into town before it falls apart."

"I fly. I've got the gentlest route all picked out for you." Marvin bobbed hesitantly. "I already told the horse. Err. This route does take us by the gate, you know."

"Does that bother you? I mean, the Gateway did kill you." Henna looked concerned. If Marvin decided to wander off, she could spend years trying to find another good ghost to talk to.

Bandits and foot soldier ghosts didn't usually know much about plants, and Marvin had lived with a witch girlfriend before accidentally getting killed at the gate. He was an invaluable source of information for her.

"No, when I fell into that thing, my death was almost instantaneous. Well, it fell on me, really. I went from a wizard doing magic to a ghost collecting information in a split-second. Didn't even notice for the first few hours, really." Marvin was jovial about his death. "I got buried just a few feet away from the gate; tossed into the nearest ditch. Well, calling it buried is stretching it a little. That grew some wonderful flowers there for a few years, let me tell you."

"Really? Any other magical grave-sites worth plundering there?" Henna asked quickly. "I mean, with so many wizards and whatnot getting killed around here, you'd think there'd be more magical plants."

"A lot more." She added ruefully. "And good ones, too."

"Not really." Marvin sounded a little bored, after looking around for a bit. "You'd need a dragon's grave before you got enough concentrated magic to effect plants, and then it'd be only a maybe. The spell I was making stuck around for a while, that's what did the plants in."

"And the dragon plants would smell real bad." He added absently, bobbing alongside her ear. Henna was sensitive enough he didn't need to shout in her ear today, and him resting there had gotten to be a habit. "Dragon's don't smell all that great while they're alive. The plants they grow on their graves are even worse."

"Maybe I could make beer from them." Henna mused to herself absently, twirling some her long red hair in her fingers. "If it had alcohol in it, the boys wouldn't notice what it smelled like. Or care."

"And you'd have no idea what the beer would do to anyone. That's very risky magic. Very." Marvin bobbed along happily. "Don't try it. We aren't all that far from the gate now Henna, it's just on the other side of the hill. I'll go look around for anything useful, but I'm fairly sure everything here got cleaned out a long time ago."

"Thanks." Henna watched Marvin bob off, then got out of the cart to walk beside it as the horse started struggling up the gentle hill. "I'd appreciate that."

Her brother stayed on the bench, sitting upright but snoring gently as they crested the hill and the Gateway come into sight.

***

## chapter 15 staff pole rod

"Get out! It's a fishing rod!"

My glare at Harry the hermit didn't have any great effect on the gnarly old coot. "No it isn't, Harry. It's my staff, so go find your own fishing pole. Magic isn't something you use to pole around rocks with either." I snatched my wizard's staff away from him, cursing the old woodcutter who'd floated the raft we were riding free from the other woodcutters a couple of days ago.

With me still on it. He hadn't done anything useful except catch fish since, and most of the time he'd been trying to kill me in a halfhearted, senile kind of way.

It was like being molested by a scrawny midget, and fairly annoying. We were still riding the raft together and that was more accident than anything else. Harry the hermit had been busy trying to get rid of me since day one; it just hadn't worked yet. He'd been just as free with the remnants of my worldly goods as my staff over the last few days and I objected to it, but he was unrelenting.

Harry helped himself these days, and to whatever he found around him. Particularly if I was asleep, wracked with pain or not watching him closely enough. I think what bothered him most was he hadn't thought of a way to sell me yet; once we got to the city, that is.

I objected; he ignored it. I threatened magic. He backed away. When I could object to his high-jinks at all, that is. Rafting in the river had turned out to be a major problem for me. Any slight drift in the wrong direction and my geas kicked in, making it very hard for me to do anything except curl up into a ball, whimper with pain and not correct our course.

Harry usually stole stuff and took a few swings at me with the staff about then, or set my staff up for use as a fishing pole. If I was lucky I could roll off the end of the raft and kick water, pushing us faster downstream; hopefully in the right direction. The last couple of days had been mostly the two of us drifting down the river, me sitting or hanging off the back of the raft, doing the kick-walk splash and Harry silently fishing. The only good part was the geas counted night-travel floating as travel and was quitting early on me.

The bad part was, I had a habit of driving for the east bank with my backward pushing and trying to ground the raft there, I guess. Backing away from that was very painful, too.

Trying to pole the raft at all was silliness. I couldn't walk except in one direction, so I had to stand in one spot and jab at the river bottom with my staff. The river bottom wasn't within reach very often. Getting to the other side of the raft meant turning till I could walk that way, then putting up with the geas pains till we got back on course.

It was not a fun trip. Harry the Hermit was a morose companion, quiet, grumpy and mad at the world; and that was when he wasn't actively trying to kill me. He hated people and I was the only target, I guess. He'd giggle happily when I was in pain and steal every opportunity that came up.

Harry would share the fish he caught, but only after I offered to clean and cook them. Then he'd complain about the magic scorch-marks from the fire reducing the value of our log cargo.

He'd sleep, fish, steal, try to kill me and not much else. Harry was old and living with him was like being attacked by a raging three year on a regular basis.

I guess living by yourself in the forest for thirty years taught him poaching and not a whole lot else. Eventually I gave up trying to talk and except for the fish splashing, birds, grunts and the occasional magical messy explosion as I zapped bugs with magic that curved in midair on me, the trip got and stayed fairly silent as the raft glided down the river.

One thing you should know about rivers is that the water there attracts bugs. Lots of them, even more than the swamp did. Lots of bugs that have nothing on their minds except trying to eat you.

I spent my idle time trying to zap them out of the air with curving magic arcs; we ended up with a lot of tiny scorch marks on the logs where I missed. If I couldn't sleep, I zapped bugs.

It passed the time. Harry complained about magic scaring the fish and the one time I set the raft on fire.

That was accidental. There were lots of bugs that night; I snapped and had starting shooting as wild and as fast as I could. There were several small fires going on the logs before I quit. Hey, we were on a river, how dangerous could a couple small fires get? I threatened to start shooting at Harry if he didn't quiet down about it.

But we were almost at the city now and with any luck, I could get my geas removed there. Or at least find a caravan to the badlands where the Gate was and finish this ride in style instead of starvation.

The big problem with that was caravans from the badlands usually came back empty. They had nothing to trade for out there, just lots of grass, bandits and eventually, mountains. Very few merchants could be bothered to make any trip there just to return empty-handed.

Once I left the river, eating was going to be a problem for me again. There weren't many people or towns in the badlands; scrub was about all it had.

I can't live on grass. Or field-mouse, the only game I could think of that might live out there. Not that I'd be any good at catching the little gray buggers anyway. I'm a wizard, not a poacher.

Or at least a wizard's apprentice. A doomed one, if I couldn't figure out this gate geas, too. No one has ever survived trying to re-magic the gate. It was best not to try. Surviving was my only ambition at the moment.

When Harry grounded the raft just outside town and sneakily tried to wait me out, wanting my geas wanted to kick in and force me to walk away. I just kicked water and out-waited him. He tried that little move a little too late in the day. Eventually, I got the raft back in the water and we finished the trip into town.

This was nothing new. Harry been trying to roll me into the water every time I sat down or fell asleep for the last day or anyway, so this little effort wasn't anything new or unexpected.

It was wasted effort. Harry wasn't strong enough to move me without help. He usually tried to pry me off the raft with my own staff; and one leg at time.

Harry was old and weak; he could barely haul the fish he caught in by himself. Moving me while I slept was nearly impossible for him, but he was trying it on a regular basis anyway.

But finally, the city was in sight, if the collection of sheds, shacks and twisting paths on the hills and swamp up ahead could be called a city. Fortunately, most of it was downstream from me; I had a few hours to walk thru it and find a wizard who could remove curses for me.

Walk thru it once, that is. I needed a guide in the worst way and hoped to find one when we beached the logs.

I wasn't surprised when Harry pushed me off the raft and left me floundering in the river as I studied the city coming up in us. He drifted away cackling madly as I sputtered, thrashing in the water.

I spat a few curses at him mixed with muddy water at him, half-heatedly. A nice little eddy had taken me far enough away from him backtracking was impossible. Waiting for him to catch up to me was almost as bad, as I'd been automatically swimming east again while trying to decide what to do.

I let him go and pushed for the far bank. I'd already seen something promising in the city-scape, something that looked like a wizard's tower more or less in a direct line east for me.

I was going to head for the wizard's tower. That or a guide willing to work cheap was my best bet; I pushed thru the waters quickly, my staff firmly in hand determinedly.

If nothing else, I was willing to bet whoever was in that tower had a treadmill handy.

***

## chapter 16 the gate

The gate was a disappointment to Henna, an unimposing arch of thick gray magic-burnt stone, not even a good half circle. It leaned. Standing about 7 feet high in the middle of a small patio of similar stones with as road leading away from it, (or to it) and most horses would have to stoop to get thru the singed and blasted thing.

"Doesn't look like the most fought-over lump on the planet, does it?" Marvin the Maladroit sighed unhappily as he bobbed by Henna's ear. "Appearances are so deceiving. Oh, that's the ditch I got buried in, right over there."

The ditch Marvin was nodding at was an ordinary ditch running alongside the road. It was filled with dead weeds and did not look like a grave-site, but hardly any graves in the badlands did.

Putting up any kind of a grave-marker was just an open invitation for bandits to snoop for any gold or jewelry that might be in there. Or even boots. "No moss on it. Looks like an old doorway." Henna nodded sadly at the spot she thought Marvin was pointing out. "Say, you need a prayer or something? On your grave?"

The road ended at the gate and headed right back to town, and from the town deeper into civilization to the west. Henna looked longingly down it. She had to get to the city before one of the bandits in her camp decided if he couldn't buy or marry her, it was well past time to try stealing her.

Bandits tended to work in groups, too. Arguing with four or five of them would get a little difficult. And she suspected the offers the captains were making to her brother would turn into threats real soon.

"No, no prayers." Marvin bounced along beside her, a small ball-shaped bubble of light only she could see and hear. "Oops. Trouble. See the fresh burn marks in the grass around the gate? It's has been burbling recently. We shouldn't stay close to it for very long."

"Or be here at all." Marvin added pensively as he studied the gate. "There's no good way to tell if it's going to do it again anytime soon."

"Burbling? What's that?" Henna clicked to the horse as it found the road and started the slow walk into town. It sped up for perhaps a step at her chuckling, then slowed right back down to it's normal slow amble. "Is the gate still active?"

"Oh, the gate isn't dead." Marvin chuckled. "It never was. It just doesn't work very well since the only guy that knew how to run it got killed trying to save it from government help. It's erratic and burbles energy every once in a while now. Badly out of adjustment. Kind of like a magic hiccup-bubble explosion geyser, except everything within ten or fifteen feet of the gate gets killed when it goes off."

"Nice. You studied this thing?" Hennas watched the gate and it's scorch marks in the grass disappearing behind them. Her brother hadn't even woken up yet. "For how long?"

"For almost a week. Then I tried a spell and it didn't work." Marvin sighed again. "The gate hiccuped instead. I never worked again after that. Somebody eventually found my semi-cooked body and threw it over there for me."

"Sounds like being a wizard isn't all that much fun."

"Not always. Sometimes it's a lot like trying to guess which plants are poisonous by testing them out on yourself." Marvin sounded moody now. "Or worse yet, on the paying customers. That's real bad for any future traffic. We ghosts usually take bets on how long the newbies are going to last fooling with the stones. Like the new apprentice on his way here now."

"Oh, you know about him? I got that news a little while ago, too." Henna shook her head in puzzlement. "Err. Say Marvin? What does a ghost bet with? Or for?"

"We always know when someone is coming." Marvin avoided that question quickly and neatly. "The end of his geas is anchored here like a string and it pulls him here. The apprentice just has to survive the trip here, which isn't always easy."

Chuckling to himself, Marvin bobbed alongside her. "Apprentices! They're our only entertainment around here, other than you. What kind of ghost will this one make? Which way is he going to try fixing the gate? Will his geas slip and let him run away after he gets here? Will he even get this far?"

"Could anyone break the string and let him go? Can I get in on the pool?" Henna asked, watching Marvin carefully. That didn't do much good, as a blob of light stayed a blob of fainting glowing light. "Or am I the prize?" She added archly.

"We bet with life. It involves transference of life-force energy. If you got in on the pool and lost, you'd end up a zombie for a few months. Probably. If you lived thru it at all." Marvin seemed fairly cheerful about it. "And whoever won would probably start wanting to have babies."

"That's not very likely." Henna the red sat in the wagon and anxiously waited for the horizon to show a town appearing. The horizon wasn't cooperating. "I don't want to. Yet. Say, if I get to the apprentice before he commits a messy suicide trying to fix the gate, would you be able to help him? Break his geas or something like that? Maybe help him fix the gate?"

"I could always tie him down." She added darkly. "Then sit on him for a while." The quiet lengthened as Marvin bobbed beside her, thinking.

"There are better ways to catch a husband." he finally said. "Pestering wizards doesn't sound safe, to me. Even apprentices under a very distracting geas."

"But maybe we could help." He finally admitted. "But if the geas broke, he'll just run away. Probably. Fixing the gate would be a lot harder. The bookstore in town has a much better list of the people and what they've tried to fix this thing that anything I know of."

The old ghost coughed and seemed embarrassed. "Really, most of the other ghosts here don't want to have anything to do with the gate or whatever killed them. Talking about it is kind of a sore spot. Some of them are now too vague to even remember what betting is, some of them are just too nasty, some won't period. Most of the ghosts would happily wait here and push him in if they could, instead. It's hard to say what would happen if we tried to enlist other ghosts. Or they even knew about it."

"The demon ghosts might help, if we could get them to help. Maybe the outworlders. Hey, the bookstore. Is it a good one?" Her plan wasn't rejected outright, and Henna knew Marvin was thinking hard of a way to cook the books now in his betting pool now. Even a dead wizard didn't pass up a chance for some fast, easy cash. Henna sighed and looked a little worried. She couldn't read or write; going into the bookstore was a little scary for her.

"That bookstore is famous with wizards for a couple reasons. It has the best collection of gate materials anywhere on the planet. Also, the best collection of used apprentice staffs and journals. Most apprentices trade their journals and staffs in when they get here, after writing up their plans for the gate."

Marvin chuckled again. "It's sad. Almost all of the apprentices show up here in rags, exhausted and without any money. At best, they only have a couple hours at the bookstore before they have to move on. Not much bargaining power there. The current guy that runs the bookstore has larceny in his heart, too. He trades supplies for staffs, journals, or letting the apprentices read in the collections."

Marvin chuckled. "If journals were money, he'd be rich by now."

"He also has a great collection of books... mostly magic books... for real wizards." Marvin added absently. "They still visit here occasionally. The bookstore has been there for several hundred years, you know. Things mount up."

"Longer than I've been here, actually." Marvin added as memories began to come back to him. "I think the bookstore opened when the gate did."

Henna looked at Marvin and sighed. The ghost was a long way from finished and continued rattling on. "This new owner is a little weird, too. Did you know he deals in death now? Runs a parasite service on the side, with poisons and a couple other odd things in stock. You want a zombie? A wizard one? An avatar? Ghosts? He can help. Caravans bring stuff in from the mountains once or twice a year and he sells it to the rest of the world."

"Well, he sells it to whoever wants to travel here and buy it, mostly." Marvin added carefully, after thinking a bit. "Almost all of what he does is outlawed in the big cities. Dangerous. Apparently most rulers think freely available undetectable poisons or lots of zombies stumbling around are bad news. Except for theirs."

"Good. Then I've got a something to trade with him. My oils. Witchcraft." Henna sounded excited. "And any other plants he wants from the plains. Ghost-talker me, ready for hire or apprenticeship!"

"He gets the neighborhood kids to do the local collecting for him. Well, the ones smart enough to survive picking poisonous plants." Marvin sounded dubious. "You could try it, but I don't think he's that busy. He might send people to you thou, for a percentage of whatever fee you got."

"I'm going to talk to him today. He might want an apprentice of his own. The local healers could give me an introduction." Henna seemed excited, and Marvin worried. "I can find a recommendation from somebody in town. The barber-surgeon, for instance. Somebody."

"Hurray, the townies. A collection of people desperate for entertaining help, the bent and some politicos manoeuvring around." Looking over at her sleeping brother, Henna sighed. "Can we talk, play or develop a way out this problem, miss witch? Free, permanent and exactly what I want? Soon, too? No? How 'bout these hemorrhoids then?"

Henna sighed again and glared at her brother, who didn't look like he was planning anything serious as he slept. "We hit the bookstore, Marvin. And it's going to be today."

Henna sounded happy; Marvin just bobbed by her ear. "I suggest you try that after you done selling your goods." He added dryly. "Wizards respond to money better than expensive help-for-hire."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up, Henna." He finally stuck in when her ecstatic wriggling had settled down a little. "You aren't the first person that has tried to go to the bookstore to steal secrets; not many of them survive."

"Besides, there isn't all that much traffic in the shop. A bookseller might not want an illiterate apprentice. As a witch, the services he'd want wouldn't be a lot of fun for you. You'd end up working the tavern nights just to survive, and you know what they want from girls in there."

"I don't think I have much time left. I'm going to end up someone's girlfriend by surprise, or worse, wife at the camp soon." Henna shuddered and looked a little worried. "These are bandits we talking about, Marvin, so it'll be at sword-point. In big groups. I've got to get away from the camp."

Marvin sighed wearily. "OK. We'll try the bookstore today." He bobbed beside her a little. "We might have a few tricks for him anyway."

***

## chapter 17 a wizard

"Hello. Yo, the tower! Anybody home?"

The tall grey-stone tower stood in my way, it was open, inactive and no-one was answering my pain-filled calls as I marched in place in the alley behind it. That was in keeping from little gossip I'd gotten from the locals coming thru the various alleys and markets between the river and the tower.

Every mention of the 'wizard's tower over there had gotten chuckles from everyone in town when I pointed out my destination... Once as I clambered over a vegetable sellers stall that I couldn't avoid. Some of them were chuckling at how sopping wet I was, I think, and the rest at what I had to do to get where I was going. They called it the haunted or screamer's tower while throwing things at me and wishing me the luck of the river.

As much as I could, I stayed in alleys and forced myself around buildings. Alleys are not clean places, by the way. And the curs that live in there are not friendly or happy at being disturbed.

Every bruise I'd gotten over the last week came back to life as I staffed my way thru very old, very ancient muck piled high and deep in the shadow-ways of the city. Everything on my body hurt even as I inched my way east to this tower, and the names the children were calling me as I slipped along didn't help much.

Standing there staring at the tower wasn't helping me either. Since I was calling to a blank stone wall, there was no big surprise at the lack of an answer, I guess. The entrance to this tower was on the wrong side and it looked like my travel-geas would make getting inside the place at all a very painful process.

Particularly climbing the circular staircase that runs up every tower every time it turned west. And getting back down it would be one long screaming fall, too.

Naturally the wizard who lived here would live at the top of the tower. All wizards lived at the top of their towers, why else would you have one?

I shivered a little and brushed some of the smellier muck off my robe and hands, still marching in place. I had a few seconds left before my geas forced me to move east again. Maybe it was an old wizard who hated stairs and ran a shop at the bottom living here, thou living at ground level was mostly just inviting casual thieves to come in and try their luck. I could hope. If I had to step past the tower going around it, backing up enough to get inside would be almost impossible for me, thou.

There was one other choice for me. The rough stone wall led straight up to a window near the top the tower, so I decided to climb the wall instead and try for the window at the top of it and get in that way.

Rolling down the stairs I could deal with later. There was still a chance a wizard inside the tower could help me.

That's when I discovered I don't like heights, and hanging by the fingers and toes twenty feet in the air while cramping with pain was more than a little nerve-wracking prospect.

Carrying my staff with me was going to be the biggest problem. The window was nothing more than a narrow arrow slit but I was sure I could squeeze my way in, if I could get up there carrying my staff. The open window did look like a fairly obvious trap for barbarians to me, but I was willing to risk it. If another wizard had set anything up to catch thieves sneaking in, I should be able to defuse it; or avoid it. I hoped.

The staff got stuffed down my back and tighten down a bit as I walked across the yard. It was like trying to carry a big wooden sword on my back. It was the best I could do, and it felt like I was trying to carry a five foot wet sword back there now.

The wall itself was surprisingly easy to climb, and even canted inward and eastward a bit, which let my geas ease off a little. Loose rocks in the wall, soft mortar and handy protuberances from rough stones made the climb easier. It was almost like a staircase, really.

Well, once you got over the fact any slip of your dirty hands or greasy feet would splat you all over the dirty pavement below, that is. Then my travel-geas would make the leftovers splattered on the ground thrash blindly eastward in the new puddle I'd just made till I died.

Still, it was an easy climb. The loose stones and anti-bandit magic on the tower didn't start till you were high enough the fall would be fatal; I ducked around them easily without setting any off.

I even shimmied past the magical trap-trap, where you walk into the second sleep-trap by avoiding the first one, and finally clambered onto the window ledge, going into the room beyond the archer slit in the wall head first and stopping when I had my belly on the sill.

I rested on the sill and waited, tolerating the geas compulsion to keep moving by waving my legs. After my eyes adapted to the dark, I noticed three things that disturbed me.

One was a thick layer of dust, wind-blown leaves and water-stains on the floor and walls from rain and other weather. The room had obviously been deserted for a long, long time.

The second was a treadmill set up along the east wall beside a doorway; it was just like the one in Charlie's rustic little woodcutters hut. It also had a squirrel's nest of woven leaves tucked into one sheltered corner.

This treadmill was a lot more worn and had sturdy gearing on it that led down, too. The third thing I saw that worried me was a sign on the wall beside the door/come stairway. It was a woven tapestry kind of thing that usually had a homily or quote on it.

This one said 'Welcome apprentice. Feel free to use the treadmill till I get around to enslaving you properly. Wizard Marley'.

***

## chapter 18 the booksellers pet peeve

"Ye Gods, no. Not another silly witch. What do you want?"

The bookstore and current owner was every bit as bad as Henna had imagined; she glared back at the grump old fool who was busy burying his face in his hands in mock despair on the other side of the counter, the book he was reading open on the counter in front of him.

This bookstore visit was not turning out the way she'd hoped.

Henna and her brother had gone directly to the market, Ali trying to sell the cart and horse at the tavern before taking it to the local meat dealer, and Henna sitting under a tree at the edge of a field beside the tavern selling her witch-wares.

Calling the empty field beside the road she was in a market was giving the lot more credit than was due. The tavern had objected to people milling around it's horse yard, so the market was a basically empty, weed-strewn lot across the mud street. There were a few other vendors already sitting there on blankets, selling crafts and other used goods the sparse trees.

The market wasn't even busy enough to kill the grass on the ground or even cut a good path thru the trash littering the unpaved street. The baker and butcher down the street had clear routes to their shops that ran thru the meandering, dirty lanes, but the market for local farmers Henna the Red was stuck in did not.

It was barely used. Even at harvest time, the farmers here took produce thru town on their own carts; they didn't wait for the customers to come to them any more than they had to.

Henna sighed wearily as she looked around. The only sign this outpost was in a city and not a village was curs had replaced pigs as the animals of choice in the garbage-filled alleys. Chickens, goats and pigs got confined to coops and backyards here now but the dogs ran free, as that kept the theft rate down a little.

After a quick demonstration of how well her bug juice could protect babies (A few drops on a cloth and the baby stayed bug-free. So did the mother, for the most part.) and most of Henna's wares moved briskly enough as word spread there was a witch in the market today.

Even her perfumes sold well, which the flower-sellers in town hated seeing. Everything she had went for barter-exchange; needles, cloth, dried meats, leather and a few rusty pennies was what she ended up with after a few minutes hard bargaining with each customer.

Marvin watched the proceedings carefully and kept Henna informed as to where and when the best customers were; and what they'd pay for her services, and which were planning to take the stuff door-to-door after they got the goods from her.

She wasn't busy, but the traffic was steady. There were a few medical complaints for healing from the town-folk today too, but they were mostly of the 'dying children and aging parents' variety. There was nothing much Henna could do about a child miserable and suffering with cow-pox; and even less she could do for the older men wanting 'tonics' to improve their performance with the young girls, lonely widows and sometimes even their wives.

She suffered thru the usual efforts by gossips and priests to redirect her work into more preferred political channels... At a rock-bottom price, naturally. Priests always expected everything for free, it seemed. They demanded it anyway, but Henna managed to move everything she had with her in a reasonable amount of time.

Her trade was relatively brisk, as the horse-flies and other biters were bad this year. Ali was still happily stuck in the tavern trying to sell his horse and cart when she was done; and getting nowhere with the elderly animal and rickety collection of boards he had to sell. Henna sighed.

Her brother was a part-time bandit and lousy farmer, not a merchant. Bargaining wasn't his strong point. He'd have to take to horse to the butcher before very long and sell the cart as firewood, then he'd spend the rest of the day in the tavern celebrating his acute perception and deadly marketing skills. Henna sold the last of her oils and quickly packed up, ready to try her own adventures before her brother scored and started any serious relaxing and celebration and had to sleep in the empty market-lot tonight; or in the grasslands outside town. That'd happened before.

The bookstore was in the plaza, the town's main and only square. Street vendors were forbidden to camp there, along with beggars and entertainers. It had been her first stop after marketing her goods; it wasn't going well for her.

Not being able to read was her first problem, but with Marvin the Maladroit, her pet ghost bobbing by her ear, she was willing to try faking it and getting employed there.

Out-manoeuvring wizardly magic promised to make this an interesting day, to say the least.

"Show him your rear, Henna." Marvin the ghost hung by Henna's head, invisible to everyone but her and whispering sage advice. "He can't see me or hear me. He's only heard the gossip about you and the gossip about him says that's his weak spot."

Henna looked at the bookstore owner in shock and dismay, letting her eyes adapt to the gloomy interior of the shop.

"Yes, I'm a witch. Until now, my biggest thought today had been what shoes to wear in here." She sputtered out at him, blushing a little coyly. "I think it should've been boots, don't you. That I'd just stolen. Thigh-highs, for the talk around town about you."

The owner popped his face out of his hands and glared at her from his side of the counter. "You're a witch in a wizard's shop, girl." He snapped at her. "Just what kind of welcome did you expect? Tea? Crumpets?"

"Being asked for the news of the weld, actually." Henna turned away from him and nose up in the air, began inspecting the shelves in the store.

As you might expect, the store was filled wizardly junk, shelves stuffed with tattered old tomes and lots of strange mysterious items, Dust, skulls and general clutter spilled from every available wall space that wasn't a doorway, and deep shelves piled with weird dirty junk, floor to ceiling surrounded her.

She could feel the shop-owner watching her as she meandered around, puffing dust off things, peering at it and moving on. Marvin took one look at what Henna was doing, blanched and promptly whizzed over to her ear from where he was floating behind the counter, doing his own inspection of the shop.

"Don't touch anything, they've all been spelled against theft. Oh, and the book you're reaching right now for is a travel guide for Upper Laos in rainy season. With advice on how to use temples there as they charge up from the seasonal running water."

"Ah, it's a region reknown for producing very talented dancing girls." Marvin added fast and quietly. "Very friendly ones. Professionally friendly ones. It's title is 'Tantric in the Rain.'"

"It's a classic." Marvin added defensively as Henna sidled a glare at him. "Every wizard wants to go there. Especially the young ones."

"I'd talk to the shopkeeper. He's getting impatient with you." Marvin added. "Delay him a little while I check a few things out."

"Money first then, shopkeeper. Feeling bugged? Need any witchcraft here?" Henna asked the shop-owner that as she flinched away from the rather thick, dusty book sitting on the shelf in front of her. She kept her back to him, as Marvin had advised her. "Heavens, you're hostile. I haven't even asked you for anything yet."

"This is the city, everyone here runs around with their hand stuck out." The shop-owner sighed and relaxed back into his chair. "You get used to that. What do you want in here, witch?"

"No one comes in without wanting something." He added slyly, and in a bored tone. "Magic or information, usually. That's one of the reasons this place is called a shop."

"OK, doe-skin slippers." Henna ignored the shop-owner as she inspected the shelves. Every time she glanced twice at something, Marvin winced, flew back and gave her a quick lecture on what it was.

Most of the items she pulled out were embarrassing, personal or stupid. Wizards were turning out to be a filthy bunch. "Everything is for sale here, right? I should've worn something more comfortable for shopping then, don't you think?"

Marvin continued his hurried lecturing; now mostly consisting of variants on 'Don't! No, not that either, it's a pre-loaded dream-catcher!" She rapidly came to the conclusion that most of the items in a wizard's store were perverse, stupid or dangerous. Sometimes it was all three.

"I'll do the mother-earth thing for you instead, shopkeeper." Henna moved to another bank of shelves, glanced at what looked like some rusty items for a dungeon and slid right past it to yet another bank of old dusty books.

"As a witch. I have witchcraft for sale. You need any bug-juice or anything?" She asked the shopkeeper absently. "Or need any special plants from the badlands? I might want to trade for something soon."

"Oh." The shop-owner looked at Henna closely for a moment, then shuddered. "Heavens. Guile and from a witch, too. How surprising. There's another apprentice on the way here and you want to rescue him, right? Or enslave him and you want my help. Is that it?"

"Say, he's good. Now I really want to read his shop-owners notes, not the collection of apprentice journals he keeps hidden in the back." Marvin whispered to Henna. "Obviously that's something someone has tried before and he knows what won't work. Get him talking some more."

"Or at least he knows what didn't work the last time." Marvin added quietly. "Talk to him."

"Enslave a cursed apprentice. Say, that's a good idea." Henna hummed as she swayed down the shelves, still looking at the leftover apparatus, twisted glass-works and books abandoned here by the previous wizards. She could feel the shopkeeper staying riveted, watching her. "Hum. Rescue a wizard. Or almost a wizard, an apprentice. He's sure to be grateful. That idea sounds better than buying any of the junk you keep out front here."

"That's all you'll get from me, girl. Even seeing the private collections costs." The shopkeeper snapped, flapping open his book on the counter and returning to his reading. He settled down to seemingly ignore her while Henna perused his shop. "Not that you'd have any great use for 50 or 60 used apprentice staffs or journals. Or any of hundreds of an old wizard's lectures on the gate-works." He added as he returned to watching her instead.

"That's junk, too. Ask him about the third room." Marvin told Henna as he came zipping back from one of his side trips, exploring the deeper parts of the dark shop. "Or zombie-drugs. The back is his wizard research area, not the apprentice room. It's where he keeps the shopkeeper's journals too, the good stuff."

"Not this junk." Marvin said as he flew around the room again. "Really, all this clutter out here looks like it was the stuff the wizards accidentally left behind them, not a serious effort to sell magic to anyone."

"I came here to talk about the third room." Henna turned and regarded the shopkeeper closely. "The hidden, wizard's room." She added haughtily, nose up and peering at him. "Not any failed attempts to zombie wandering apprentices. And perhaps your shopkeeper journals." She added slyly, watching for his reactions. "The new apprentice walking in might need good information. You have it."

The shopkeeper watched her closely for a moment, then started to laugh. "Boots." He told her around his chuckles. "You definitely need the boots. Thou the bare feet are a nice touch."

"And no, you can't read the hidden journals. Or see the third room. Or get at my personal notes on what might fix the gate or stop an apprentice. Everything in the rear of the shop is for paying customers who might be able to do something, not wandering witch-girls." He added absently, dismissing her plan without even considering it. "Come back when you've got some cash and maybe I'll bring something out for you to look over. 101 uses for demon weed, for instance." He added carefully. "That might be handy for you."

The only use Henna knew of for demon weed was giving someone a stomach-ache. She tried not to look interested.

"And whatever cursed apprentice that manages to find his way here anytime soon gets the usual treatment from me." The shopkeeper mentioned evenly, turning a page in the book he was reading. "I trade and barter for whatever. If he can even stop here."

"Whatever you want from him, you deal with him for." he added carefully. "If you even know what that is yet."

"Do we understand each other, witch?" He added absently as Henna stayed silent. "I keep my secrets, you keep yours till there's money involved. Now get out of my shop and go home to your bandit camp."

***

## chapter 19 tall tower blues

I stayed flat on the outer wall of the staircase and made it to the bottom of the tower with a combination of tripping down the steep stairs, promising myself I find and stop on the east wall on the next turn and crying.

Screaming in pain as I backed around corners occupied most of my time. Yelling, whimpering and moaning too, but you lose track of that after the first few grunts of pain started echoing about the stairwell. The stairs were slippery with dust and clutter and needed concentration to get down, with all the distractions my body was giving me.

I did make the tower shake with my noise, thou. I know why the locals called it the screaming tower. There was evidence of lots of magic on the stairs, too, some of it designed to trap and hold wandering apprentices. One apprentice going down the stairwell had lost it entirely and tried to burn his way thru a wall, there were scraps of what looked like a skeleton in another spot and spots of dried blood on the walls, along with lots of wind-blown trash littering the steps.

I wasn't proud, but by the time I got to bottom of the tower tears were streaming down my face and I was so exhausted and wracked with pain I didn't care about the moaning I was doing anymore. This tower made my swamp walk look like a walk in the park.

The stone sounded haunted even to me by the time I made it round the last bend and into the main room at the foot of the place. Luck blessed me then. My geas quit for the day there, and I collapsed sobbing at the bottom of the stairs, an easy target for any wizard that wanted to wander in and enslave me.

It was quite some time before I could move again, even move enough to slow the involuntary twitching I was still doing. The gasps and moans I was still making got ignored too, as I slowly recovered from the walking hell I'd just gone thru. No one from the town came in to see what the noise was about. Not at any point. There was no sign of a wizard in the tower anymore either. The bottom of the tower looked as deserted as the top did, with the addition of a few rotting boards on the floor covering what looked like a dungeon below.

Or possibly a really nasty root-cellar. You wouldn't know till you got down into it, and there didn't look like there was a way up out of there anymore.

When I could think coherently and stop making involuntary twitches, I made special note of what looked like the easiest way out of the tower across the rotting floor. I did not want to fall into a torture chamber in the basement then have to try and climb out of a wizard's playroom.

If there was a dungeon below, it would be designed to hold apprentices, then work them to death. I was in no shape to try and get out of that now, and without rest and food, never would be.

Dawn came early. The sunshine coming in the doorway to the tower woke me several hours later and except for being tired, bruised, hungry and stiff from sleeping on the steps, I felt reasonably good again.

Not good enough to take on even street urchins, but good enough to walk. With my staff holding me up, that is. Or at least stumble forward. I did the obvious thing and headed right out into the light as fast as I could, carefully using my geas to jump me over the rotting floorboards as fast as possible.

There was no reason the wizard that'd booby-trapped this tower had to live here. With an apprentice trapped inside the place, it was bound to be very noisy anyway. I was fairly sure one of the kids that'd plagued me outside yesterday was being paid to keep the owner informed of any more passing bodies that managed to get caught here anyway and I was sure he'd be around to empty his trap sooner or later.

After hunger and thirst weakened me enough to make me a helpless target, probably.

The outside of the tower was a relief. I walked right back into the river, or at least a canal off it, a few blocks later. Thankfully, it got that got back in front of me. Grabbing some floating trash after closing my eyes to the pain, I jumped in the water and floated back out of town, trying to tell myself the water here in the canal wasn't as dirty as it felt.

Surging pains kept me from wondering about that too much. My luck got even better as I moved into the major streams, me floating right out of the city in a few hours by holding onto the rear of a barge moving something downstream. It didn't take long; the barge was being rowed. The city of my dreams fell away fast behind us.

The river and the barge I'd roped myself to went thru some marsh-land outside town before the barge started heading off in a direction I couldn't go in.

All in all, it turned out to be an easy day for me. A blur, really. Swim. Float. Hold on. Swim. More swamp to slog thru and eat. Swamp-mud was not as nourishing as walking thru farmer's fields, but easy enough to get thru.

I fell asleep in a tree just outside the marshes, on the top of a hill, the second my geas shut down again for the day and let me stop. I did get to look around a bit before exhaustion felled me. You could see grasslands starting up to the east from my perch high in the branches of the tree I was hiding in. The badlands started just beyond the patch of forest I was hiding in.

I had to laugh. The badlands. The easy part of my little forced expedition was over. Now the hard part of my trip was about to start.

***

## chapter 20 dealing a deal

"You haven't got anything I want, girl. You don't know what you want yet. Please go home now."

"I have dimples, too. Wanna see?" Henna stood in the second room and looked over the collection of carved sticks and piled journals as the bookseller groaned misery. This was the apprentice room, where traveling apprentices left the last of their worldly belongings.

The bookseller kept the staffs in hopes some wizard could turn them into a massive weapon of some sort, or have some interest in what failed apprentices put into their magics and their journals. So far, no one had.

"Apprentices actually trade everything they have for a peek into the third room?" Henna asked the bookseller in disbelief as she looked around. "That's incredible."

"It's usually food they want. They read for an hour or two. Maybe get a lecture from me, if I know anything about what they want to try. In fact, most apprentices, by the time they get this far, can barely stand at all." The bookseller seemed gloomy as he stood and watched Henna poke around the darkened room. Marvin the Maladroit chuckled evilly as Henna flashed a quick smile at the shopkeeper, then went back to rattling around the room.

She had gotten this far by offering to discuss oils she could get for him, and offering to smile at him occasionally. The long-suffering bookseller had almost immediately succumbed to her charms.

"Apprentices come back here after getting to the gate. They can't leave the area, but they can trade for supplies. If I don't get their staff on the first visit, I get it on the second. Or third, it doesn't matter. They all get hungry for information eventually." The shopkeeper couldn't keep his eyes off Henna's rear, and she swayed around just enough to keep him fascinated and fixated on it.

"You should know. You got in here by offering to let me watch you poke around." The shopkeeper sighed wearily. "Pest. You better have some decent goods to trade after this."

"Hey, that's my old staff!" Marvin zipped over from his post by Henna's ear and came to rest on a long carved stick that was indistinguishable from most of the others in the room. "And it's still charged up. Unbelievable."

"I traded everything in when I went to make magic on the gate. After a week or so here, I had to start experimenting. My geas forced it." Marvin added, zipping over the runes carved into the staff lovingly.

Henna wandered around the room, looking at the staffs with the skulls on them and various other ornaments. She was willing to swear some of the staffs were looking back at her, but wasn't about to mention that to anyone.

"Oh, I have the goods you want, bookseller. And a few free smiles. Here, look at this." Henna fished a small bottle of green oil out of her bosom where she had it tucked away and held out the warm glass to the shopkeeper.

The bookseller winced, snatched the bottle and after gently pulling out the cork, sniffed the oil inside. "Nice. It's Marsel oil." he murmured quietly. "Seems to be fresh. Good quality."

"Harvested correctly, too." Henna seemed a little smug about that. "Moonlight blossoms. Glass grinder. Filtered thru ra-weed. Kept in the dark."

"Potent stuff, then." After putting the cork back in, the bookseller sighed and handed the bottle back to her. "I don't need any. You just use lots of the cheap stuff instead and that works fine. I don't need any Marsel oil, girl. You'll have to do better than this."

"I can." Henna kept her inspection of the room going, working her way over to where Marvin was still cooing over his staff. "You want some Drake-oil done right? I can get that."

"No thanks. Drake is a nifty poison, but there's lots of other things I can use instead of that. It does look like you're versed in my herb needs, thou. Let me think about this for a while." The bookseller sighed as he watched Henna wander around, her blowing dust off things but carefully not touching them. He grunted approval at that.

"I might need some Ayers." He finally mentioned finally, a gleam coming to his eyes and his face lighting up. "There's a couple wizards up north who have been asking me for it for years now."

"Ayers only grows in the mountains. Specifically, only at a certain heights, certain mountainsides and the north side of a couple weird trees." Henna recited, after tilting her head and seeming to think for a bit. Marvin was lecturing her steady as she stared off into space. "Plus you need a lot of it to make even an ounce of oil."

"For as ghost talker, you do really well." The bookseller grudgingly admitted as his face fell. Henna knew the traps. "But that's what I need the most. I've sent lots of kids out for it and they always come back empty-handed."

"Well, if they come back at all. One of them came back being chased by the tribes that live up there, for some reason." The bookseller finally added as Henna stopped and stared at him. "Hey, I need some." he said defensively. "There's a good market for it. The town should learn to defend itself against it's neighbors anyway."

"What was left of the town after the tribes tried burning it to the ground, that is. Only the stones survived. That tree is scared to the tribes." She murmured quietly. "A very potent drug, Ayers is. Very scared, too. You tell the kids you sent out anything about it at all?"

"That the oil they're after will drift them home being chased by floating green hippos if they weren't careful? I did mention that." The bookseller seemed aggrieved. "But about the locals up there, no. It's hard to tell from here just where the tribes are at the moment. They move around a lot, you know."

"Ayers. You're asking for the impossible." Henna said quietly, finally getting to where Marvin's staff was. She picked the staff up and it started to glow with a calm blue light. She aimed it at the shopkeeper, leveling the staff at his chest with one hand. "Ayers is seasonal, limited, guarded by vicious tribes and very hard to get to. Are you sure you don't want to reconsider? Need anything else instead?"

"I can do other things." She said quietly to the startled store-keeper as blue light from the staff started to play over his chest. "Herbal ones. And I really want to get out of the bandit camp right now."

The bookseller snorted disgust at her and ignored the now angrily-buzzing staff pointed at him. He seemed a little irked, but not worried about the weapon in the least. "Girl, there have been wizards wanting to trade magic for goods coming in here for the last several hundred years." he snapped at her. "Most of what they traded was defensive magic. Put that thing down before you accidentally hurt yourself."

"It's true. He's shielded, the shop is grounded, there's spells on everything and if I wasn't channelling the staff for you, you'd be a greasy pile of smoking ash on the floor right now." Marvin sounded strained as he whispered in her ear. "Very dead, Henna. Several different and unusually messy ways of very dead."

"And you want a wizard's apprentice as a slave." The bookseller sighed. "Or worse, a husband. Witches! Normally, girls want a prince to rescue them. Being a witch, you're trying to kidnap a noble, or at least a wizard. All silliness, girl. Try asking any crafty warrior or a bandit for help instead."

Henna sighed, lowered the staff and returned it to it place leaning against the wall. "Well, it was worth a try." She said quietly. "This stop had been a waste of time. You don't want any help, you don't want any of my herbs, you won't let me look at your notes on the gate."

The bookseller nodded absently. "That's a good summery." He said quietly. "You can add I'm annoyed you tried to kill me in my own work-shop too, if you want. And that I won't help you trap any geas-cursed apprentice that wanders in here."

"Hum. A husband-bound witch looking for a producer, a fixer or someone connected to a power. Tell you what." The store-keeper seemed to be struggling with something. "You seem to seriously want a wizard-fixer for some reason. Or seem to. A free-wizard one. Here's the deal, witch. Bring the oil in and I'll try to help you stop and hold the apprentice. Maybe even de-geas him, if I can. Then you can try your magic on him. Is it a deal?"

"Help me stop him from doing what?" Henna asked suspiciously. "Magicking the gate? Walking off?"

"Take the offer. Pretend you want to marry the apprentice. Anything is better than the drones, thugs, informers and flatters back in camp." Marvin whispered quietly. "Your brother included." Henna tried to shush him.

"Stop gate-magic? Me? Oh, no one can do that. I know a couple tricks that might keep the apprentice alive a little longer than usual, thou." The shopkeeper grinned at her maliciously. "If you think that'll help. And no, I'm not telling anything else you till you get back here with that oil."

"An ounce of that oil is worth enough to buy the whole shop and a good chunk of the town." Henna protested. "Magic and all. And it'd take years to get that much."

"Get what you can and I'll buy it." The shopkeeper pointed at the door and made shooing motions with his hands. "A few drops, even. Now, I've wasted more than enough time on you and you know the goods I have here are genuine. Go away now. Come back with something I want, witch."

"Looks like you're making a hiking trip into the mountains, Henna." Marvin whispered in her ear as he quietly bobbed there. "Better water your garden really well before you leave, it'll take at least a couple weeks to get there and return."

***

## chapter 21 buffaloed

"Aaron the mighty stuck in a pit. Blasting sand like it was, err, mitts. Walking and stalking and digging a hole. Who knows just how far he'll go?"

I looked up at the patch of clear blue sky above me and resumed blasting away at the side of the pit I'd fallen into. The only good part of this day had been my geas wasn't due to kick in again till dawn, so I was able to concentrate on getting myself out of this current mess.

This mess was something I'd walked right into, as usual. If anyone else ever tries to tell you the badlands are flat, laugh at them. So far, they'd been anything but.

My trek was pretty much normal for me. I'd waded across a couple small streams face-first to start the day, drinking as much as I could as I splashed along, then walked out into the harsh sunshine of the badlands, my geas picking the direction and driving me along it.

It wasn't an easy walk, regardless of how it looked. The badlands are not flat; they just look that way till you try to get thru all the clutter there. They're filled with holes, hills, dippy valleys, old bones, petrified crap and cliffs. It's a messy walk. And grass. Lots and lots of waving grass everywhere with occasional high stony bare dirt patches hiding snakes and other things.

I'd even climbed up and down a couple of the smaller cliffs on the sides of valleys this morning, in my usual straight-line drive for the gate. My biggest hope was the gate was close to me now, as the badlands weren't known for having a lot of food and water in them.

Unless you like snake, of course. I saw lots of snakes, and they weren't frightened of me in the least. Most by almost stepping on them.

They just hissed at me and slither-thrashed away, I think. I never stopped my march to the gate long enough to find out.

My geas had eventually worn itself out for the day and I'd headed towards a hill in my path that promised a good look at whatever surrounded me this time.

Naturally, I'd fallen into some sort of deep pit at the base of a cliff hidden by tall grasses; walking tired makes you careless. Now I was trying to dig, blast and work my way out of it.

It was not going fast, but I did have a leg bone of some sort to hit the dark, packed dirt that surrounded me with. It wasn't doing much to the walls of the hole I was in except bounce off embedded stones and gravel there.

The hole was just a little too wide for me touch two sides, even lying down. I needed the bone I was digging with for that. Oddly, the hole was wider at the bottom than the top.

The shadow silhouette appearing at the edge of the hole up there let me know I wasn't alone anymore. Looking up, I cheered, but whoever it was just stood there silently watching me.

Making plans for the stupid person that'd fallen into their trap, probably. The badlands are like that.

"Hey! Can you help me out of here?" I finally got out, dropping the bone I was waving hopefully. "I've been stuck down here for hours."

Whoever was up there was silent about that, too. They just stood there, then walked around the pit, inspecting the hole I'd been trying to make in the wall. I looked, too. It was a magic-scorched and not very deep pit, one of several I was making so I could ladder-climb my way up and out of this hole.

None of them were deep enough for me to get a hand or foot into yet.

"Hey, white boy." The shadow above me finally said in a curious tone of voice. "What do you think you're doing down there?"

More surprises as I got the strange voice identified. The voice was quiet, husky but definitely that of a girl, and her accent was one of the hill tribes. As she stood on the edge of the pit I could see she had her own version of a staff with her; she was leaning on it casually now. It was decorated with feathers, beads, carvings and odd wraps of leather.

The staff matched her frilly outfit; my new reality sunk in slowly.

My luck had changed. I might've gotten away from the wizard in town, but at the moment I was being held prisoner by a 14 year old Indian witch-girl.

"Me? I'm trying to get out of this hole, that's what!" I snapped out. "Listen, I'm under a curse. I have to get to the gate and come sunrise, I'll be desperate enough to try blasting my way out of here. You know where the gate is? Can you help me out of here?"

"Yeah. I know where the gate is. Just the other side of Holmwood. Putting an explosion in the hole you're standing in does not sound like a real good idea, thou. Wizard." The shadow above mentioned that dryly. "Sounds like it'll roast you before it moves any of that dirt to me. Maybe blow the more cooked bits straight up, if you're lucky."

"I know. But two minutes after dawn, I'll be desperate enough to try it." I said quickly. "The curse is pain-driven and it's due to kick in then. Can you get me out of here before then, please?"

"I might want to watch the fireworks instead, white-boy." The shadow slowly moved to the other side of the pit I was in, again. I could see from her silhouette the girl was a little smaller than I expected. "The boom might even fix the buffalo pit you're busy destroying." She added absently. "Glaze the walls up a bit, too."

"Come on, I only made a few handholds." I snorted, looking around. "Well, most of one of them. There isn't a buffalo alive who could use them to climb out of this pit."

She stayed quiet and stared down at me.

"How do you get them in here, anyway?" I finally asked as the silence lengthened. "Buffalo aren't known for hiding in holes very often."

"I don't. Aren't many left buffalo left around here, thanks to the townies. And that blasted gate."

My rescuer finished looking the inside of the pit over carefully. "The migration moved away from here years back. Catching buffalo? Takes work. Sometimes you stampede 'em off a cliff, sometimes you run them into pits. Like the one you're in. If they cliff-dive, sometimes they bounce, get up and run away. Then you have to hunt the wounded down before the wolves and coyotes get to them for ya."

"Drive 'em into a pit and only the top one gets away. Then you cut them out of it." She added absently. "Lots of work, no matter what which way you go. Good thing it happens only once a year, eh?"

I'd heard the stories, but never believed them. "You only work a couple weeks a year? During migration season?" I asked in disbelief. "What do you do the rest of the year?"

"Tell buffalo stories, mostly." The shadow hunkered down at the edge of the hole and peered closely at me. "Or something like that."

The girl up there coughed in an embarrassed way. "Right now, you listen close, white-boy. I'm a witch in my tribe, or want to be. Just coming back from my name-quest. Found my totem animal and a spirit-guide, too." The girl added with some pride. "I'm not supposed to talk to anyone till I get back to the tribe and they OK everything."

"I might have demons." She added as I stared at her. "Sometimes it's hard to tell. Spirit-guides are tricky. That'd be bad for everyone."

"Totem animals. Spirit guides. Ah, I thought you liked buffalo." I grunted out, sitting down hard on the earth around me. I lifted my staff and used it to block out the light so I could watch the girl squatting on the edge of the pit glaring at me.

"My name, totem, spirit guide and lunch are all different things." The girl said evenly. "Usually. Problem is, my familiar is pregnant now and I don't really want to go back to our village. People will get upset. Got that way while we were traveling."

"He's unhappy about it too." The girl added carefully as I struggled with the concept of a preggers familiar. It didn't sound all that bad till you got to the 'boy' part of her news. "Poor Blackpaw. Getting in a family-way was quite a shock to my poor little tomcat. He's still really upset."

"Oh. Lemme guess at a few things here. You collect cats, don't you?" I accused the shadowy girl standing above and gloating down at me. "At home. Lots of them. And you're the only person in the tribe who wants you to be a witch? Nobody knows you left for this quest?"

"Yeah." The girl grunted. "They don't know I'm on a spirit-quest, either. I got bored and just took off one day. My best guess is they'll think I was taken by slavers or something. Gonna be fun when I get back there. For a day or two, anyway."

"Need any wizards?" I asked hopefully as the quiet there in the badlands pit stayed very still up there. The quiet seemed to be seeping my way as insects silenced and an ominous chill grew in the pit with me. "I might be able to do something for you." I added hopefully.

"Nope." The girl raised her staff and pointed it at me. "Don't need any travel-driven wizard's apprentice. A couple new slaves might help me, thou. Buy me out of some trouble back at the camp."

"You climb out and I shoot you." She finally said, holding her staff out to me. If I jumped, I could just grab the end of it. "You're a slave now. My slave. That's the deal. You in?"

"My curse will make me run away." I sputtered out, almost outraged but deflating already. Welcome to the badlands. Anyone you meet out there is gonna rob, kill or enslave you. And maybe all three, all at the same time. "I couldn't go with you if I wanted to. My geas drives me."

"Let me worry about that." The girl said confidently. "You in? Your word on it, apprentice."

"I'm in." I groaned. "My word on it. But you won't have to shoot me till dawn, OK? Or do anything magical to me. That's when the curse kicks in."

"Let me worry about that, too." The girl muttered again, looking slightly embarrassed about something. Then she stuck the end of her staff down the pit I was in. "Here. Climb yourself out, wizard. We have deals to make."

***

## chapter 22 hill-billies

"Somebody could've warned me how cold it was up here in the hills at night." Henna shivered and threw another stick at the fire while Marvin bobbed around the mountain meadow, looking for more easily gathered firewood. Then she wrapped herself up in the thin blanket she had tucked around her again and shivered. "Or how little food there is up here."

"Ha. You didn't ask anyone anything before you took off." Marvin reminded her. "Just left a message for Ali to water the garden occasionally. You traded for some travel-gear right after leaving the book-shop, and we were both headed out to the hills before the hour was out."

"I had no time for long stories." Henna grumbled. "Or explanations. Or getting permissions to gather Myer's Oil, which is what those grunts back at the camp would've tried to demand for themselves. It'd be just like my stupid brother to get annoying about something like this. "

"You know we had no time." Henna reminded Marvin. "That blasted plant-oil the bookstore owner wants flowers for only about a night and a day. It's pickable only a couple days a year and that's right now."

"Except the right-now part of that is a much later this high in the mountains." Marvin grumbled out as he dipped to check out a likely looking branch on the ground. "Spring comes later up here. Much later." Glancing around the small alpine clearing, Marvin shuddered. "After the snow melts, usually. You can tell when that happens."

"Hey, there's a pile of sticks right over there. And nothing is living in this stack." He added that as Henna glared at him. "Honestly, I'm sorry about the last one. How was I to know that heap was den for weasels or mice or something, and not just a pile of sticks?"

"You look first. You didn't do much camping back-when, did you?" Henna reluctantly left the comfort of her bedroll-comforter to gather the wood Marvin had found for her. "Outdoorsy stuff. While you were alive, that is."

"No. No wizard does." Marvin grumbled out, bobbing in the air over his latest find. "We send people out to do that for us. Witches, mostly. Farmers. People that like plants. Wizards stay in town and mess around in their labs and libraries."

Henna sniffed as she scurried over to where the sticks were and brought the handful of firewood back to her campfire. "So here I am on a mountain, looking for a north-side tree that only grows very high up the hillside, has a certain moss that only flowers a couple days a year on it... Flowers sometimes and only sometimes, and I'm in the middle of hostile native territory." Henna groused as she heaped the sticks where she could easily reach them and re-wrapped the blanket around her tighter. "Dandy. Not my best day."

"Mice are not hostile." Marvin chided the shivering witch. "And that's about all we've seen. Listen, Henna. Stay active, it keeps your blood moving. Get out of the wind. You've eaten and now we have firewood. Try to get some sleep while you can, tomorrow is a big day."

"Tomorrow we try another mountain for the stupid tree we're looking for. And hope it has the right moss-flowers on it." Henna sighed. "With a few of them in bloom this time. Blast. Without you here, this would take forever. Thanks for your help, Marvin."

"Oh, I can find the tree. And see if it has moss. It's a pity we have to come back to harvest the flowers, that's all. Well, if they bloom this year at all." Marvin bobbed happily in the air. "Better hope you don't run out of ghost-oil, Henna. If you can't hear me anymore, this whole trip will start getting really difficult for you."

"We'll worry about that tomorrow." Henna shivered and hunkered down in her blanket and stayed silent a few moments, shivering in the shelter of a rock. Her small fire flared as the fresh wood got added to it. "Say, Marvin. What did you do when you were alive? I mean, what kind of wizard were you?"

Marvin didn't say anything for a moment, just bobbed in the air silently. "Well, the magic I was specializing in as an apprentice wasn't popular. One of the sort-of-forbidden areas of magic. That's what got me sent to the gate, eventually."

"Sort of forbidden? How does that work?" Henna shivered as she tried to get comfortable again. The small fire in front of her leaped a little higher as she added fresh sticks and the wind blew at it.

Marvin sighed and started talking slowly. "Are you sure you want to know about something that killed a wizard's apprentice, Henna? This isn't secret, but it may not be safe. My study hadn't been officially banned by anyone, but you don't get any warnings about people getting upset about these kinds of things."

"The unwritten rules of forbidden magic. Unknown, unspeakable and dangerous. You were doing some. Somehow, this figures." Henna sighed and watched the small bobbling light as Marvin traveled back to her side. "Yes, I really want to know what got you exiled. I might want to avoid it myself one day."

Marvin sighed again. "Well, you're heard of death and taxes as being the only really sure things in life?" He asked quietly. Henna nodded. "Well, that's Necrophilia Cannibalism, really. To me, death and taxes meant zombie government." Marvin said slowly. "So I found them and studied them. The zombies weren't happy about it, either."

"Justice, religion and cultural powers. It was mostly the old cultural elite." Marvin started slowly. "The old, broke nobility. Yesterday's winners. We have the current warlords, hustlers with lots of cash and popular stars running around now, trying to buy, muscle or talk their way into power. Unfortunately, what they're trying to get into is still full of the old ones, the zombie government."

"Just the fixers, or connections to them. You played politics with something that wasn't even in power and got exiled for it?" Henna shook her head. "And now you're a ghost? Fine. What's frustrating you and keeping you here?"

Marvin answered that one even slower. "You see, as a ghost, you take with you what you did in life. Bad habits, sins, skills... even if the skills part of things is usually just beating money out of your neighbors." Marvin appeared to be thinking hard. "And the good deeds, too."

"Power is kind of weird. Influence, command and accomplishment." Marvin bobbed a little more slowly. "The people I studied were very influential, but that was about all." Marvin stayed bobbing up and down in midair slowly, hesitantly. "Fads, fashions, habits, trends, traditions. Especially traditions. That kind of thing."

"And why did they get after you? I mean, studying fashion sounds harmless enough. Or holidays." Curling up beside the fire, Henna used a stick to poke the flames and pull a rock out of the pit. She manoeuvred it behind her where it started warming her back. "Was it death by mad-hatter that got you staying here as a ghost?"

Marvin chuckled. "No. You know how on clothes, girl's buttons are on the left, and boy's are on the right? I tried changing one of those rules and got slapped down for it. Hard and fast. Breaking one of the old-mob rules, like a girl becoming a wizard instead of a witch. That got me booted out of my apprenticeship fast."

"It was stupid. I didn't like it. I got hit hard for it, and here I am." Marvin bobbed alongside of Henna now. "I studied the invisible power of zombie government and became a ghost before I was finished, so here I am."

"Oh." Henna yawned and fluffed up her coat, which she was using as a pillow blanket and stared into the flickering flames of the fire. The cold clear mountain night stretched above her, filled with stars. "'The customs of your tribe are the laws of god.' type of thing, right? You broke one of the rules. I guess there's not a whole lot you want to do now, is there?"

Marvin stayed silent for few more moments. "There's a few things I could help with. A couple of things I want to try doing." He finally admitted. "The things that keep me hanging around are weird, but there's not much chance of then ever coming up around up here. I can wait." He finally admitted that reluctantly. "I do have all the time in the world now."

"And you share every second with everyone else." Henna grumped out. "Ha. Your secret ambitions are still safe, ghost. Even from me. Just let me know if I can help."

Marvin didn't say anything. Henna watched the flames for a few more moments. "What's with the pine-cones you had me throw all around the camp?" She asked sleepily. "We're encircled by them. I thought I was gathering tinder for the fire."

"It's a little something I learned from an Indian guide I used to talk to." Marvin said quietly. "Pine cones are handy. It's like surrounding yourself with crunchy, round bells. Hard to walk on, slippery, very noisy and there's a trail if they get disturbed at all."

"Say, that's how I use girlfriends back in camp. You surround yourself with friends. Good. Plus we have some fire-starter within easy reach now, if we need it." Henna grumbled. "I don't see you with an emergency pine-cone or two stuck in your bedroll, ghost."

"I don't have a bedroll." Marvin pointed out. "Or a body. Go to sleep, Henna. I'll scout out a few more of these trees for us tonight. Maybe we'll get the flowers we need tomorrow."

"Maybe we will. You're good at exploring. I would like to get out of these mountains before we trip over the tribes that live up here." Henna rolled over and pillowed down. "Or they notice us. These Indians aren't supposed to be any fun at all. Goodnight, Marvin."

"Talk to you in the morning, Henna." Marvin the Maladroit watched Henna fall asleep, then started exploring the mountain they were stuck on.

The trees only grew in a narrow range up here, and he quietly followed the Indian sign that was all around them right to them.

Most of the tree-patches were marked with aging markers that blended right into the landscape unless you knew what to look for. That handy little item was also making this collecting trip a matter of getting in and out of here before the local Indian harvesters accidentally caught them collecting the moss-flowers.

The worrying part was, some of the mosses looked like they'd been disturbed recently. By someone going a long way out of their way to hide any sign of it, too.

***

## chapter 23 ride and climb

"You ride a buffalo." I looked at the huge fuzzy animal amiably chomping grass in front of us and shuddered. It looked like a huge, furry ox. A very ragged, sloppy, slobbering one. "A real buffalo."

"Yeah. Beats walking." The young Indian-witch settled her vast array of charms, good luck pieces and bones necklaces and other jewelry around her slight frame absently and slung her staff on her buffalo like a lance. They all rattled nosily. "Most witches do. Indian ones, anyway. There's a trick to it, of course."

Looking at my bound hands in front of me, I groaned. "Hold on tight?" I asked her sarcastically.

"Nope. Get used to the fleas first." The girl corrected me, not paying much attention to me at all anymore. "Before you try riding one. Not that you'll get much of a chance to do that today. Don't worry about holding on, apprentice-slave. Buffalo walk around at kind of a lurch, but they don't run much unless they want to."

"Yeah. They stampede instead. Do you have a name?" I stuck out my bound hands. "I'm Aaron the apprentice, semi-master of magics and wizardry."

The girl kept ignoring me and studied her buffalo carefully. It was already loaded with a small blanket and a few packs, but had no saddle on it's back. Swell. We were going to be riding it witch-style, bareback and sidesaddle.

"I'm Mistress Mindy, your new owner." The girl finally said absently as she watched her mount. She was tapping my staff on the ground impatiently. "You can call me Mindy. Or just mistress."

"Oh, yeah. I'm a slave now. Your slave. I forgot." Staring at the huge beast in front of us seemed like it was catching since we were both doing it now. "Sorry. Do we ride this thing bareback?" I asked carefully. "And where are we going?"

"Um. You do know I can't travel in any direction except towards the gate?" I added carefully. "Two steps in the wrong direction and I'm just a puking ball of pain on the ground. I don't travel well."

"The buffalo can drag you, slave. If he has to." Mindy was still staring hard, concerned with something only she knew about. "You see a cat around here anywhere?" She finally asked me, looking around the grasslands in disgust. "It figures. My familiar has decided this is a good time to disappear on me."

"Nope. This the preggers tom? He'd probably out hunting. You know, the usual 'pregnant and hungry' stuff." I looked around the grassland and carefully took a step towards the buffalo. It didn't hurt, and I slumped in relief. "There's lots of mice out there. I saw lots of snakes this morning, anyway. There must be lots of mice somewhere."

"That's one of the problems. Maybe you can help. Mouse is my totem animal and it doesn't help when my familiar eats them all the time." Mindy sighed wearily. "My totem is already pissed at me and I've only had her for a week."

"My spirit-guide is protecting me." She added as I stared at her. "Or at least making excuses for my familiar. To my totem-animal. For a while."

"Your spirit-guide should be babysitting your cat, not bugging your totem. Can I ask what your new spirit name is?" I looked a little concerned for her, then shuddered. "Please don't say it's Old One-eye."

"Mouse." The girl sighed and tapped her staff on the ground a little harder.

"That's convenient." I murmured, wincing a little. "And your cat's name is?"

"That's my guide's name." Mindy was miffed now and glaring at the grassland around them. "I'm trying to call her. My spirit-name is secret, wizard. My cat is fat, lazy and very slow these days. He's called Blackpaw. Hasn't done anything but ride for the last week. He's gone and I'm worried about leaving him here."

A very painful-sounding scream erupted from somewhere in the grasses surrounding us. Both Mindy and I jumped at the amount of agony in the noise as it slowly died away.

"That your cat?" I asked Mindy carefully. She nodded 'yes' and kept staring out into the grasslands worriedly.

"Blackpaw, eh? I don't think he's hunting mice." I finally allowed that as the badlands grew even more ominously quiet around us. "That sounded more like someone giving birth to me. Unexpectedly."

"Giving birth to a demon, too." I added as Mindy stayed staring at the grasslands stretched out in front of us. Another scream echoed around us, filled with pain, outrage and an impending cat's vengeance on anything handy. "Or at least trying to. And growing a new orifice to put the kittens thru."

"Or maybe ripping a new one." I added absently as another disturbing scream torn thru the air around us.

Mindy sighed and took a leather strip from her dress. It looked like it was a braided rope. It had a fringe and beads on it and was obviously spelled for something.

You could tell by the glitter on it. The rope sparkled in the sun.

"I'm going to tie you to the buffalo, slave. Then I'm going out there to help my cat." Mindy said decisively. She snapped the rope between her hands, testing it for strength. "Go stand over there by Buffalo. Now."

"Is he pregnant, too?" I mumbled out as I manoeuvred up to the huge smelly animal. The buffalo turned his head as I stood beside him, whuffed a couple times, then put his head back into the grass, ignoring me. "What's his name?"

"Buffalo. That's all I call her." Mindy snapped at me, still looking towards where the eerie sound had come from. "Hurry, wizard. I've got a familiar to save."

Another pain-filled scream came from the grasslands. Looking over the buffalo's back at waving sea of grass, I swear I could see the snakes moving away from the sound enmass.

It made for interesting ripples in the sea of waving green. A lot of them, all hurrying away from a certain spot.

When I looked down again, I was tied to the buffalo by my bound wrists and Mindy was striding out into the grass, hammering my staff into the ground with every step she took.

I did notice she wasn't being bothered by snakes. The ripples in the grass moving away from the sounds her cat was making also avoided her.

Naturally, the buffalo named Buffalo followed Mindy. So did I. When you're tied to something that big, you don't really have much choice on where you go.

Blackpaw and I were doing harmony screams a few seconds later when Buffalo started moving in the wrong direction for me. The buffalo ignored me, past the first few yipes. Blackpaw thought he'd found a kindred spirit and seemed to delight in making different noises for me to imitate.

Mindy just giggled till we all met up in a weird hollow the cat was hiding in. Blackpaw had gone down a rabbit-hole or something in the grass and had a new den down there now.

It didn't muffle the sounds of his screaming much, but I was more than making up for that by then anyway. When the buffalo stopped moving I collapsed, exhausted from the effort of screaming, digging my heels in and generally trying not to slide and get dragged the wrong direction anymore.

"Sounds like you two are gonna hit it off right fine." Mindy giggled at me as the grasslands finally quieted a bit. "Here, apprentice. Help me drag him out."

"My cat from that hole." she elaborated as I slumped there, still breathing hard and shaking the spots from my eyes."

"That means stick my head down there, right?" I gasped, still trying to get over having my liver ripped out strip by strip. That's what fighting my geas felt like to me today. "In that hole there? You want me to drag a very upset, overweight tom cat out of a hole in the ground by the scruff of his neck?"

"Around whatever is left of your head." Mindy said peaceably as she untied me from the Buffalo. "With whatever is left of your hands. Blackpaw doesn't sound like he's in a good mood right now. He might object to being moved. Vigorously. Giving birth would be like that, I guess. Hey, having a slave is kinda handy after all."

"I was a little worried about that." She confided in me as Buffalo took a hint from his mistress and shoved me towards the cat-hole with an irresistible hip check. I tumbled towards the hole, gasping with pain. "Runaway wizard apprentices usually aren't good for anything much at all. You won't make a great slave for anyone back in the village, even with your magic."

My lease got grabbed as I stumbled to a gasping halt. I hardly noticed Mindy tripping me flat, then squatting down and shoving my head in the hole her cat was hiding in.

"Go get my cat, slave. " She ordered. "Now. He needs some help."

I went from not being able to see thru the pains of my geas to having my head stuck in another dark hole in the ground in two easy gasps.

It wasn't much of an improvement.

Blackpaw didn't seem too happy to see me at all, either.

***

## chapter 24 mountainside de-flowering

"So you figure we aren't alone up here." Henna watched her morning tea brew grumpily. Not only was it a weird mountain tea from herbs she'd gathered yesterday, she was brewing it in the only pot/cup/container she had with her.

That meant waiting till the tea cooled to drink it, adding more water by the mouthful from the very cold mountain stream nearby, or adding the grains now and eating her morning mush tea-flavored.

She solved the problem by throwing in a handful of grains. This morning's porridge would early and mountain-tea flavored.

"Yes." Marvin bobbed close by, apparently watching the trail they would be traveling on closely. Henna ran her fingers thru her hair and stirred her mush. It was hard to tell what a small ball floating of light was watching at the best of times, but he seemed really concerned about something coming up the mountain at them. "Someone else is out here with us. After moss. And recently, too."

"It explains why the flowers are stripped off. If there were any this year, somebody sneaking around already got them. I have no idea who it is, just that they don't want to be bothered. And they can hide their tracks really well." Marvin added quietly. "I'm hoping they're avoiding us."

"Like they did last night? They're hoping we avoid them, maybe." Henna corrected grumpily. "I'm not surprised, Ayers oil is rare and valuable. I wonder if that bookseller sent anyone else out after it."

"This does not look like a street-kid out on a collecting trip to me. Or a local trying to harvest scared herbs." Marvin was nervous and showed it. "I'm guessing it's a pro-collector who wants in and out fast, and quietly."

"That would be us, except it hadn't occurred to me to hide what we were doing up here." Henna yawned and stretched, packing up her merger campsite carefully. "Aha. A sneak. Think he'll try to lead the local barbarians to us?" she mused carefully. "Or just wait till we get something worth stealing first, then try something?"

"Both." Marvin stayed on guard bobbing around the camp nervously. "In reverse order. Pick up a few more of those pine-cones, Henna. We might need them tonight."

"Have you found another patch of these trees to check out?" Henna asked carefully as she carried her cup of hot mush to the stream and added more water to it. Swallowing her breakfast in one long gulp, Henna scooped up more water from the stream to douse her small campfire with.

Then drank and rinsed a few times as the taste of the tea-flavored breakfast stayed in her mouth.

"Argh." The tea-taste was a little persistent, so Henna stayed dipping and rinsing her mouth between dousing trips to kill her campfire. "Keep an eye out for anything that tastes better than this tea, would you?" She asked the ghost with her, shaking her head sadly. "It won't have to be much. Raw pine-cone would taste better than this."

"Your own cooking, too. Great. I'm already looking for trees on distant mountains, a snoop that seems to be good enough to get by the local trackers, an easy way down off this rock meadow and you want me to watch for berries now too?" Marvin gave an explosive sigh. "Sure. No problem. Want to know about the local buried treasure while I'm at it?"

"Is there any?" Henna reluctantly rinsed her cup, stood up with her pack and headed down towards the next patch of trees Marvin had spotted last night.

"Just the flowers." Marvin snapped out. "And somebody beat us to them already."

"Myer's Oil is very rare and valuable. Will it be worth our while to scout out the next grove of trees, Marvin?" She asked carefully. "Since this one has already been plucked clean, the next closest one should be just as stripped, right?"

"Probably. I'll go look." With that, Marvin zipped off. Henna pulled her bag of camping gear over her shoulder and trudged off after him.

Marvin would not have any problem finding her. Even going downhill, no one traveled fast in these mountains.

"Look for booby-traps, too." Henna yelled after her ghost-guide. "I don't want to walk into anything fatal this morning."

"Or anything more deadly than breakfast." She grumbled to herself when no answer came wafting back to her. "I wonder if Marvin is leading the stalker out there to their next find." She added to herself. "I can't be the only person that talks to ghosts."

"You aren't, but I don't have the flowers with me right now."

That came from a bush Henna was walking past. The bushes rattled as someone tried to get out of the middle of the thicket. It involved a lot of thrashing around, but no one popped out of the bush. "I never did find those things very useful. Ghosts! Babbling idiots, most of them. Dangerous, too."

"Oh, relax." The voice snorted at her as Henna started. "I want to suggest a team-up here, not a mugging."

"Um. Swell. Does it include breakfast?" Henna asked, after recovering from the shock of finding some else with her on the lonely mountain top.

***

## chapter 25 kittens

"Maybe he's just constipated."

Mindy the Indian witch-girl ignored me, being busy getting her cat familiar into a bag and tied onto her buffalo mount, Buffalo. Since she didn't have a saddle, just an already over-loaded harness of sorts, it was a difficult tie-up. My staff had already gotten stowed beside hers, slung like hunting spears beside the harness.

"It wasn't any trouble dragging him out, anyway." Watching the suffering tomcat get stuffed into a loosely tied bag didn't make me feel any better about my prospects. Mindy, while not professionally cruel, didn't seem too concerned about the comfort levels of her wards. "I think he likes me."

I wasn't even a ward, or a pet. I was currently Mindy's slave, till she decided to give me away to someone to help cover up her teenage antics. Thoughts of digging latrines up in the mountains bothered me. I didn't think anyone she knew up there would be too concerned about caring for a slave that was due to walk himself to death over the next few days.

Her cat screamed outrage again.

"Nope. He's not hurt, he's birthing." Mindy peeked into the bag and winced as her cat promptly screamed violation at her. "It's the kittens ripping him a new one. He isn't enjoying the process."

"A magical one." She added quietly after studying her cat for a few seconds. "Wow, what a hole! Say, he might even live thru this. Whatever you hit him with worked. Might end up costing him a couple of his nine lives, thou."

"Sounds painful anyway." I looked down at the sparkly rope that attached me to the buffalo harness again. "I hope you weren't counting on a quiet trip back home. Min... Err, Mistress."

"I know. You scream too. Like a girl, by the way. I have ear-plugs in now." Mindy said quietly. She was looking out over the grasslands now. "The nearest water is a more than a few hours over that way." She mentioned, using one hand to shade her eyes and look at the mountains. "And most of the trip is uphill." she added, still looking out over the grass. "Into the sunset."

"I guess the best way to get it done is to do it fast." She murmured, more to herself than anyone else. She mounted her Buffalo in one easy, fluid motion. "He-up!"

Her buffalo mount broke into a canter at that command, yanking me off my feet and dragging me behind them.

I hardly noticed. Buffalo was heading in the wrong direction again and my geas was complaining about it. Vigorously. This time it felt like someone was driving needles and spikes thru my eyes from the inside out.

My feet did get back under me, but getting dragged like this was hard on both my arms and my legs. After a few moments I didn't have the strength or energy to scream protests. What did happen was after a few minutes of being tortured to death, I got mystical about the pain.

It became a glowing ball of light attached to me and my body. I wasn't really attached to my body anymore, but the pain was still there if I paid attention to it. The agony more or less receded to a slightly quieter state. It was like thinking about your hair. If I stopped to concentrate on it, it was there and an unendurable burning agony.

If I didn't, I floated in a more-or-less dream state and was able to watch what was happening around me in a bemused sort of way.

With what was left of my mind, naturally. Since I hadn't ever put much time into meditation or the mystical arts, it was like living in a waking fever-dream. Chaotic. Chaos. Very silly.

It took about an hour of being dragged behind the three of them to get these new senses of mine to make any sense, and me experimenting enough to make this new world something approaching stable took more concentration that I had to spare.

Bad enough I was surrounded by hungry glowing snakes of light that wanted to eat me, but Buffalo, Mindy and her cat all seemed driven to make comments on my mystical progress as I got bounced over the landscape.

When her cat wasn't screaming at being used as a kitten-factory, that is. His noise only added to the surreal nature of whatever fluff I was currently floating in.

Eventually, Mindy's nagging, the cat's sarcastic remarks and the noise of two new kittens birthing managed to wake me, or at least let me get a few steps above the unconscious reflex level.

"It's about time, wizard." The grumbling in what I was thinking of as my ear continued. At the moment it was located in my chest, right above my heart. "We was beginning to think you'd run yourself to death before you got anywhere."

I tried to shake my head and only managed to smear my thoughts over a couple different subjects. Carefully getting my eyes back on the same level, I got things back in focus again. In a very weird way. "This feels a lot like death on a stick anyway." I grumbled. "What's the difference?"

There was one pleasant surprise. My answer came out in speech instead of clouds or chirps. The pounding of my legs running along continued, along with the screaming pain of my geas working on me. I could even see the magic of it now, in a weird sort of way, and just how deep the geas had twined itself into me.

There were two or three kinds of magic, by my count. The geas was just a little bit more complicated than I'd thought, and it looked like there was a compulsion to call my old master if I succeeded buried in it too. The cat chuckled at me as I sputtered amazement at the magic, then he screamed in pain as his kittens worked on the hole they were making to escape him from.

"He can't remove the curse, mistress." The cat whimpered again as a small head tried to force it's way thru the hole in his personal magic, then retreated again. "He lacks scope, dimension and power enough to do anything."

"One thing at a time, cat. One thing at a time. Blast. Well, it was worth a try anyway." Mindy rode her buffalo, which, oddly enough still looked like a buffalo, on thru the mystic landscape I was stuck in. She didn't even turn to look at me as she trotted thru the splattering clouds. "Honor, pride or vanity, wizard. Which is it to be?"

The landscape around us looked like a roiling cloud of various magics to me. Colored fogs of mist, jelly and cotton that boiled around slowly. The landscape made about as much sense as Mindy's question.

"It doesn't really matter." I grumbled out, watching my legs stride on in a bemused kind of way. I was glad the buffalo wasn't hurrying very much as even in this weirdness, it was hard to keep my balance. "You are still working with people, right? Only the excuses will change."

"Humph. Attitude, personality, character." Mindy went on. "Choose, wizard. Will it be personal, social or cosmic?"

"Temperature, pressure, time." I answered. "Another of the force-triangles. Up, down, sideways. All of them, of course."

"Idiot apprentice." The cat added in a snarky tone. "Choose. Freewill, destiny or evolution. What rules?"

"All the same thing, cat." I answered. Mindy twitched quietly to herself and rode her buffalo unhappily. "You choose your destiny and evolve there. Everyone does."

"Damn. Out of gossip, plot and bragging he chose nagging, mistress." The cat didn't seem happy with me for some reason. I finally remembered his name was Blackpaw. The name did seem to suit him, for reasons I couldn't think of at the moment. "There's nothing we can do with him."

"We camp here, then. I'll use him now. Your kittens will like the energy." Mindy stopped her buffalo, unconcerned with anything around her. I collapsed on what I thought was ground in exhaustion. "Rest, wizard. We'll talk more when you've stopped gasping."

Since I was still tied to the buffalo, I didn't have a lot of choice in what happened. I was too groggy to appreciate anything but not being in pain anymore and almost missed Mindy kicking me onto my back next.

A bag of kittens got dumped on my chest a few seconds later. Then Mindy kicked my robe up and straddled me comfortably, with a small grin on her face.

"Just relax and try to enjoy this." She murmured as she made herself comfortable. "I need to use your magic, wizard. All of it. Put some effort into this, please."

I went from breathing hard to harsh breathing as she readied things.

"Be quiet, this will probably take a while." She added absently as Mindy started a spell on the squirming bag of kittens nestled on my chest. She made herself comfortable and grinned at me. "A long, long while. I want to get it right and it might take a couple tries."

"Relief, relationship and development." She gasped suddenly as she got comfortable on me. "Think development, wizard. Development!"

I wasn't arguing, I was trying to cooperate.

I don't think it mattered any.

***

## chapter 26 prisoner hermit witch

"You sure she's trapped in there?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Marvin zipped by Henna's ear and for a ghost, seemed to be whistling softly to himself. Or at least humming, which was weird enough. "Not that she's harmless or anything, but she's trapped in there. There's a big crack in a rock and her foot is jammed in there; she's not going anywhere for a while."

"I can hear you, you know." The voice in the bushes seemed peeved. It sounded like the voice of a nasty old woman to Henna. "You could do a harmless old lady a big favor and get me out of this mess." It added, with pain evident in her voice.

"For free? Not likely." Henna watched the bush nervously as it thrashed and shook gently at her. Whoever was with them on this mountain had managed to get themselves stuck and wanted help now.

A trapped witch; with everything Henna'd come up on the mountain for stashed somewhere. Her prisoner. It sounded a little too good to be true. "You did a sneak around us and harvested the moss-flowers yesterday, didn't you?" She asked her captive, if captive was really what was happening.

She wasn't sure what was happening just yet. It did look suspicious to her.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. You aren't the only person that watches for these things, girl." The voice seemed a little nervous. "Besides, you walked almost right thru my camp. What was I supposed to do, ignore the strangers in my front yard? Of course I followed you."

"The second she figured out what we doing she snuck ahead to harvest the moss-flowers while we dawdled along looking at the scenery." Marvin mentioned quietly. "I think she's trying to game you again, too. She can't hear me."

"We came up the north front. Yesterday was mostly cliff climbing. Living on a windy rock-face must get interesting. So, what are you? Who are you?" Henna asked the cranky, trapped voice. "Try not to annoy me with your answers."

"I'm the witch of the mountain, girl." The voice grumped back. "Have been for years. Got stolen from a village below by a native years back; back when I was a little girl."

"A long, long time ago." The voice added wistfully. "He left a few years back too."

"And after twenty years of slavery, you didn't want to go back." Henna considered a few things. "Or stop being his wife. He died how long ago?"

"More than a few." The voice grumped out. "The Indians didn't want me hanging around, just like the town below. Too hard to live anywhere but here, so I stayed." The voice didn't have any regret in it. Henna understood. She knew what the town could be like to strangers, weird people... or even people without money, for that matter.

"And you haunted the mountain as a witch. And still do. The Indians don't try to kill you?" She asked the voice carefully.

"Nope. 'Course, they tried a few times, at first. They have to catch me thou." There was an almost silent cackle from the leaves. "Nobody tries much anymore. I know this mountain a lot better than they do; it's easy to lead them into traps."

"Like the one you just fell in." Henna started relaxing. "Or were preparing for us. Me. OK, what kind of a deal would you like to make, old woman?"

"Just get me out of this, please. My foot hurts already." The old woman in the bushes sounded regretful. "A lot. I don't have anything worth stealing, child."

"Not on her. And you don't want to know where she hid the bottle she put the moss-flowers in." Marvin sighed. "Or that it leaks. That's one of the reasons she's in one of her own traps right now."

"Giggling." Henna added, whispering quietly. "Trapped and giggling. Did she get enough of the oil to kill her?"

"No, but she's gonna be very, very... happy... for the next few hours or so." Marvin seemed a little worried too. Their worst enemy trapped and at their mercy; and first thing in the morning too. This was a little too easy. "She might start seeing giant green geese chasing her if she doesn't move the bottle soon, thou."

"How much oil did she get?" Henna used a long stick and pushed back the bushes, going for a look at the trapped witch.

"Wasn't oil, it was the flowers. Different effects. The flower's release their scent slowly. If she'd eaten them all, pow, instant high. She'd be curled up under a bush giggling somewhere now, but the flowers got put in a leaky bottle and the bottle stashed somewhere private."

"Somewhere disgusting and private." Marvin added. "Wet, warm, disgusting and private. In a few more minutes she'll be trying to fly her way home or having some other kind of fun. Let her keep this batch, please. That'll solve all our problems." He seemed to shudder a little.

The bushed finally yielded to Henna's probing stick and the trapped witch of the mountain came into view as the greenery got pushed back out of the way.

It showed a forlorn little old lady dressed in patched rags and worn deerskin tatters with her foot jammed between two rocks. She was sitting down and rocking gently, sobbing quietly and holding her stuck foot just above the ankle. Broken and shredded bush surrounded her, evidence of her trying to pull her way out of the trap.

"Nice try, witch." Henna said with quiet emphasis to her captive. It was almost a snarl. "There's no blood on your wounds. No green gunk on your hands. The shoe-leather isn't worn, marked or torn."

Henna looked up and stared the witch in the eyes, hard. "Then there's the little details. Like this particular bush is something like poison sumac. If I go in this way, I'll be slapped with fresh sap and dosed up good. Sick in an hour, dead in a few more and a very nasty death at that."

"Pull yourself out of it and get out here." She snapped at the witch. "You'll get no help from me. Why are you trying this?"

The witch deflated slightly, then peered at the Henna with suddenly bright eyes. "Humph. You're brighter than most of the kids Harvey sends out here." She finally allowed slowly. "And why try it? You two picked up my trail where the native trackers have always failed, then ran me down fast. I had to do something."

"Ha. I'm talented. Keep the few flowers you got, witch." Henna said to the witch. "And stop following us. I'm going to harvest a batch and get off this mountain before anything else here tries to kill me."

"I don't see your friend. The person you were talking to." The witch mentioned quietly. She pushed her foot out of the crack in the rock and drew it up under her rags, being careful to avoid the sap from the fresh cuts and slashes on the bush around her. "He holding a bow on me or something?"

"Or something." Henna dropped her stick and the bush snapped back into place between the two of them. The witch disappeared from view. "Get your own flowers from now on, witch. Or it will go hard for you." Henna added as she turned away. "Now I've got things to do, so stay away from me."

The bush stayed silent. Henna turned and walked away.

"Was that smart?" Marvin asked as the two of them got the rest of the alpine meadow between them and the witch. "I mean, this oil is worth a lot. She'll be busy harvesting as much as she can now."

"You need to know if the flowers are there first. She doesn't. They only bloom every few years, remember? That's a lot of walking and usually nothing at the end of it." Henna marched on determinedly. "The only thing we have to do is make sure she isn't following us."

"She won't go after the flowers on her own? You're really sure she's going to come after us instead?" Marvin asked carefully.

"That's what I'd do." Henna said quietly. "She might run for the next patch to beat us there, or follow us to steal it from under our noses again. Or mug us with a better trap. Going out on her own when the flowers will wait for her to get to them? She won't do that. It's a waste of time."

"She'll stay after us. Most of the finding work gets done for her that way and the rest wait for her." Henna grumbled out. Marvin stayed floating beside her and quiet.

"Nice catch on the poison bush, Henna." He finally said.

"Did you really think I couldn't recognize a helpless-waft setup when I saw it? I spend lots of time doing it myself for merchant caravans back in the bandit camp." Henna shook out her red hair and smiled nastily.

"That was a simple snare. It's almost the same bush I surround my garden with at home to keep the neighbors out." Henna said, shaking her head slightly. "It doesn't grow well in town."

"Or up here, really." She added absently, looking around the mountain meadow. "Come on, I'm betting we find more than one kind of witch-trap today. Worse ones. That trap was merely handy, she'll have time to set the others out for us."

"Ah. They'll be there already. We were lucky yesterday, taking the hard, fast way path to that tree. Oh, yes. I forgot. You're a witch, too. Will we have to walk around all the traps?" Marvin asked nervously. "I'm not very good at traps, especially witch ones."

"By the end of the day, you will be. She's had years to prep her territory here." Henna sated firmly. "This mountain will be loaded with stuff, all kinds of them. I have to do the same to my stuff in the tent back home. Come on, Marvin. I'll start giving you lessons in how to be a sneaky witch."

"One who wants to keep people off her mountain or to kill the ones that do wander in here."

***

## chapter 27 foot hills

I woke up the next morning sore everywhere and still fairly-well tied up. Mindy had a breakfast fire going in the mountain cool and she smirked at me happily from the other side of it.

She was cooking something that smelled delicious, but most of my attention was drawn to the two kittens playing with Blackpaw, her cat familiar. They didn't seem to have any shadows, but everything else in this bright morning sun did.

Other than that, they looked like kittens. Mountain-lion kittens, with thick furry ears, but still happy kittens. "Interesting pets you've got there." I said quietly as my feet, tied together, started their familiar thrashing. My geas was commanding me to get traveling already and it wasn't in a direction Mindy looked she wanted to go in.

We were up in the foothills of the mountains and Mindy had said yesterday she wanted to get into the hills today. This did not look like it was going to be a good day for me. The Indian witch that'd captured me yesterday looked like she wanted to go higher, while my curse was driving me to get back out into the plains.

"Man, these cats are gonna make me." Mindy crowed happily as she looked fondly at the kittens. "They're magic. Two years from now, I'll be able to walk in and take over that whole town down there with them."

"The town by the gate." She added as I looked a little confused. "It'll be a surprise barbarian magic invasion no one can stop. I'll be able walk right thru anything they have down there and take the whole place over."

"Or just erase it from the map, which sounds a lot better to me." Mindy mused to herself as I blinked at her in confusion. "I haven't decided yet. My biggest problem today will be keeping these little monsters out of the hands of the warriors back home."

Tossing me a chunk of hot dried jerky from the fire, Mindy smiled at me. "And you're going to help me with that." She confided to me. I tossed the meat up and down to cool it a bit, then bit in hungrily. "The boys back home tend kill anything new and weird, the warriors do. Things like you. They definitely won't want anything more powerful than they are in the village, me to have it and if anyone leads the sacking and burning of the town it's gotta be one of them."

"Or so they hope." She added, taking a bite of her own breakfast. She swallowed it without much chewing. "I have other plans now."

"So you're not going home?" I asked, swallowing as fast as I could too, and looking longingly at the bushes next to the camp. Staying out of the Indian barbarian camp sounded like a good idea to me now, but I had bigger problems to deal with first.

I usually used a swim in any water I crossed to get my morning washroom chores done, but there wasn't that much water in the mountains. We did have a small stream running beside our camp thou, and it looked miserable.

What little water was up here in the hills was ice-melt. Very cold ice-melt. The stream burbled a crisp icy invitation to me, and a stern warning.

Starting the mornings up here as a slave looked like it was definitely gonna be a chore. Mindy stayed chewing and ignored my plight.

"Oh, I'm going home alright. As a new witch. With a wizard-slave, a spirit guide, my totem animal and a new name." Mindy looked determined. "Plus my familiar, a couple new demons and my buffalo. The warriors up there can go hang if they don't like it."

"I might have to beat a few of them to death to get my point across first, but I will. They've gonna have to learn to like this." Mindy murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

"Ah, there is the small problem of my curse kicking in." I nodded at my spasming legs. "I'm not going to be any help getting you home. I'll be screaming in pain and trying to go in the opposite direction all day, in fact. Trying to break free as long as I'm awake, too." I added carefully. "And it isn't my idea. It's the curse driving me."

"Plus I really need to get to that stream right now, Mindy." I added hopefully as Mindy considered my problems. "There wasn't much chance for any washroom breaks yesterday."

"Or last night. Buffalo can drag you anywhere I want to go today, wizard. Don't worry about that." Mindy said carelessly. Then she wandered over and started kicking me towards the water and I, bereft of any dignity at all, rolled helplessly over towards it.

"You were a little noisy yesterday, thou. I might have to come up with something to stop that. I want to sneak into the village, not ride in with a screaming herald being dragged behind me."

I was still mostly tied up and getting kicked in the wrong direction, which made my geas-pain kick in. Getting rolled into the very cold water below our camp was just another distraction till I stopped moving.

Then I started inventing new swear-words as the cold stream water started making itself right at home with my private parts, gown and various sore spots.

Having my head bounced under the water and off rocks didn't even slow the noise down any. I kept right on screeching and shivering hard. "Stop being such a big baby, wizard." Mindy ordered me from where she was standing on the stream bank watching me burble. "You'd think you'd never been in cold water before."

"I have, but not this cold. Holy sweet suffering dwarf..." I rolled and sat up, choking the stream of words off with another long yelp. Staying thrashing around in the stream was all I could do, as I was still tied up. Mindy stayed watching me as I tried to try to drink, do my morning splash, not have my geas control everything and not freeze to death in the process.

I was icy blue with the cold when I finally managed to worm-crawl out of the rocky stream bed and collapse into a miserable chattering heap at her feet.

I did notice my boots were gone, but only after I got an eyeful of Mindy wearing them. My feet were now numb with the cold now, along with the rest of me.

"This day might start off being a bit of a drag." I grumbled out through chattering teeth. I was still shivering and couldn't really do anything yet. My legs did keep twitching as my geas ordered me to keep walking, thou. "I can't move."

"The water isn't that cold." Mindy protested blandly. "I've had some already."

"Oh yes it is. I'm also tied up." I gasped out. Mindy grunted, then walked over kicked me on my front. Then, after I was where she wanted me to be, she sat on my back, took a strip of dirty hide from a pocket and threw a gag around my head.

A gag that got stuffed firmly into my mouth and tied around my head.

She was being kind to me. I was just glad the gag wasn't a blindfold or a hood, too. The natives around here were very wary about taking strangers to their camps unless they were dead strangers first, or so the stories said.

"Now we ride, or at least I do." Mindy said calmly enough, passing a rope between my already tied hands. It was a cold leather braided rope, I noticed. I could tell from the feel of it. I also knew it won't break today. "You run. We pass over Witch mountain, through a pass or two and we're there. It might take us another couple days to get to my village."

"You might even live thru it." She added, absently kicking me again. "That's your problem. I don't care much, I don't really need you anymore."

***

## chapter 28 insane traps

"Are you sure this is a trap?" Marvin looked a little confused at the way Henna was stalking a particular bush. It looked like she was trying to see thru it.

"Yes. It's a people-trap." Henna didn't bother explaining much more to her confused friend, then finally sighed in exasperation as he bobbed in front of her, obscuring the view.

"You were a wizard once, right?" She huffed at the ghost bobbing in front of her face. The two of them stood in yet another lonely mountain meadow in the sunshine, one of many they'd visited today.

"You remember how the witch of the mountain made trails that lead to bear-paths, skunk-burrows and that otter-slide? You know how she surrounded the moss trees with poison ivy and other irritants, like the weird cat-weed that attracts mountain lions and other pests?"

"My ex-girlfriend was a witch." Marvin sounded embarrassed. "I understood those. I can track this witch across snow-fields, bare rock and avoid most of the weirder plants she puts in our path. But I not understand what you're doing right now."

There was a brief happy scream off in the distance. Both Marvin and Henna looked up at the sound, both then shook their heads sadly.

"Blast. She hasn't put that leaky bottle away anywhere safe yet." Marvin said quietly. "Great. We're on a booby-trapped mountain with an insane witch stalking us. A drugged, insane hermit witch who wants our harvest for herself."

"The harvest we don't have yet. And she wants to learn how to fly at the moment." Henna mentioned quietly, still shaking her head. "There are cliffs over there. Hey, at least she's a happy drunk. I wonder if she's going to..."

There was another happy whoop from down the mountain, followed by a faint splash a few seconds later. "Really jump off the bluff and into the lake." Henna finished sadly, wincing a little.

"You'd think she'd have more experience with flower-oil." Marvin grumbled out. "Especially after twenty years of killing off anyone coming up here to harvest it."

"I think I'll peek in on her again." Marvin sighed and whizzed off while Henna started the long walk to wherever the witch following them had ended up this time. "That last step sounded like a killer to me."

"And a people-trap is something that attracts people." Henna murmured to herself as Marvin zipped off. "It's like a sign pointing out where the party is. Or a clear path to her home; and this one is for witches only."

Stepping carefully back from the bush, which had a few flowering branches carefully grafted onto the main stem, she sighed and scanned the meadow around her for signs of mayhem, other traps and any leftover bodies from unwary strangers.

Old campfires with skeletons around them, that sort of thing.

There were a few depressions with clumps of ferns in them scattered in the meadow, but that was about all.

Marvin whizzed back, still a little puzzled about things. "She lived thru jumping off the cliff. She's now swimming around the lake chasing fish and otherwise behaving like an excited teenager." He said quietly. Marvin sounded vaguely disapproving. "She'll tire soon. There's a small beach close by."

"If we want to talk to her, she'll probably be asleep on the sand by the time we get down there." Henna mentioned vaguely, still looking around the meadow. "Do we want to?" She asked Marvin.

"No." Marvin shuddered. "She's insane enough from here. Do we have anymore pitfalls, hidden holes in the ground, mad squirrels or dive-bombing rookery moms to get thru here?"

"No. As far as I can tell, this place is a people-trap." Henna sighed and gestured at the clumps of ferns in the meadow. "It's set to explode as soon as any campfire gets started."

She nodded at a clump of swamp grass growing nearby. "That grass seed releases something that puts you to sleep when burnt. Permanently, if you don't get the cure soon." Henna shuddered and rubbed her neck wearily. "My, this witch is a nasty one. There's just enough of it here to do the job. It's invisible unless you know what to look for, too. The flower here is an invitation to camp, that's what the add-on to this bush is too."

"Wow. She's had twenty years to think up traps and get them in place." Marvin bobbed uneasily. "Nasty ones. Death and taxes, this witch makes me nervous."

"She's good, but don't worry. I understand her perfectly." Henna smirked at her ghost companion. "She just made a new life for herself up here, after all. Anything is better than being stuck in town married to someone your father likes. By surprise."

"Or someone your brother needs to suck up to." Marvin added quietly.

"Same deal. Even being stuck on a mountainside as a hated Indian-witch by yourself for twenty years is better than that." Henna finished quietly, yanking her clothes back down into place determinedly. "Trust me."

"That's how you were able to pick out her traps so easily." Marvin said quietly, finally figuring something out. "She's your sister under the skin. The one you never had."

"You found most of the traps, Marvin. Not me. She's your kin, not mine." Henna corrected. She picked up her small bundle and looked towards the point the witch has disappeared screaming off the small cliff. "That makes her your sister. I just do the witch stuff, the ones you won't think of. Now let's get down to the lake the safe way, shall we?"

"Yah. Not by jumping off a cliff." Marvin sighed and got ready to zip off again, or at last seemed to focus his attention on the path ahead. "This should be simple. The beach where she ended up is on this side of the lake, right beside a beaver dam. It's right over there."

"You'd better check the path down isn't loaded with tied-back bushes, holes, poison plants or another mud slide." Henna marched across the meadow and tried not to look too closely at the fern patches. There might've been bones in there, where the campfires of the other visitors would've been. She didn't want to know about them if there were. "If there is a safe way down at all."

"You're right. Find anything unusual at all in our path, got it." Marvin zipped off, this time almost straight up.

Henna grinned and started off. She knew it'd be the beach that was booby-trapped, not the path leading there. For anyone not wearing the right bug-juice, the sand would be full of leeches and ticks in for a free feast. Or just maybe poisonous sand.

The wrong bug juice would be in the water itself, or maybe path down in the bushes, flowers and grass.

***

## chapter 29 witch mountain

"No, I never considered priesthood. Priestess-hooding, that is. Your religions still want vows of chastity, poverty, ignorance and obedience to superiors from everyone they let in, right?"

"Plus you have to wear a funny hat." Mindy the Indian witch sniffed disgust at my suggestion she try to learn a few tricks from the religions in town before destroying them.

"Lordy, the things your stupid priests want. You'd think your religions only wanted to rule the poor and desperate. I can see how someone connected to god-power and madly in love with the boy next door might be a little dangerous sometimes, but really. These rules look more like a power-grab by local authorities than anything else."

This wasn't working. Mindy was not being entranced by anything the town might have to offer her. Nothing I could think of, anyway. "And the fashions there in town?" I asked weakly. "That's girl-stuff. Some of it you must like."

"Fluffy, wispy, see-thru: display, highlight and enhance." Mindy answered back in a bored tone. "All for property or a prize. Betcha the girls there are not encouraged to speak at all. Or start anything of their own."

"And what they do with buffalo leftovers is an outrage anyway. Who needs that?" She said philosophically. Wondering who'd taught her and if I could get lessons from them was about all I had left on my mind. Mindy the witch-girl was smart, even for an Indian witch-girl; I couldn't out-guess her lessons yet.

Then she smirked and yanked on the rope tied to my hands, hard. "OK. Enough talk, wizard. You're rested and we have a lot more running to do before the day is out."

My desperate attempts to stop from being dragged behind the buffalo weren't working. Mindy smirked and pointed to the crude rag still around my neck, the one scratching my new beard.

"And if you're going to make all that noise again, put that on. Stuff it in firmly or I won't take it off at our next stop."

Meekly nodding agreement was all I could do. Life as a slave was like that. I hurried swallowed as much musky water from a water-skin as I could before putting the gag back in. Mindy chuckled, refilled the skin from the stream and put it back on the buffalo.

Running was hard work at the best of times, and screaming about being wracked with pain while you did made it even drier work.

I couldn't even get any magic done while getting dragged about like this, even if that was a desperation attempt to escape this current mess. My magic was erratic enough without trying any while being dragged up a mountain behind a buffalo while geas-cursed.

Besides, Mindy was sure to feel the energy getting started and might decide to do something about it. Like feed me and my magic raw to her new kittens while she watched.

I was not looking forward to being stuffed under a one-girl buffalo stampede for fooling around. Life was not good at the moment. Mindy definitely had the upper hand and she was using it to briskly beat me about the head and shoulders.

"I hope you like witch mountain, wizard." Mindy mentioned as she mounted her buffalo, her familiar and kittens already up there and waiting for her. "It's a dangerous place. You might get pushed ahead of us to check for traps today. Or fall into them, whichever you do best."

"Murphmpm." Was about all I had to say to that. My gag was in place already, but the traps part of what she was saying sounded interesting to me.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly pulsing with joy about it either."

In a deadly kind of way, the traps sounded dull. Mostly it sounded like a normal day's work, the kind-of-deadly magical trap defusing every apprentice got used to. It was usually all anyone got to do for the first part of any apprenticeship.

Not everyone survived it. You got very good at finding and defusing traps very fast in any magical apprenticeship, or you didn't live for very long.

"You'll have to do it while moving, too. Better hope you can concentrate enough to avoid the stuff out there trying to kill you or you're dead, and probably in a very messy way. The Witch that lives up here has a very nasty reputation."

"No, I'm not taking the gag out." Mindy said quietly, as I gagged at her. Kicking her buffalo into a shambling walk, I could barely hear what she had to say about the next part of our trip, as being dragged against my geas made thinking about anything but the pain next to impossible. "Relax, wizard. I'm still trying to figure out a way to push you into the booby-traps the witch has set all over this mountain first. That's the best way to use a slave, don't you think?"

"Murmph!" I couldn't even brag about my expertise anymore, and after a few seconds of going against the geas-grain, didn't really care.

My last coherent thought was she probably won't want me doing any magic anyway, for more reasons than she knew about yet.

Unless I was very careful, any trap I saw would explode, or at least my magic would. It usually did. Most magic traps were designed to explode if tampered with anyway and my magic wasn't great at the best of times.

Defusing witch mountain sounded like one very long day, a day filled with magical explosions all aimed at me. This was not the best of times for me and Mindy seemed cheerfully obvious about the whole thing.

***

"There's traps out there, wizard. Lots of them, all different kinds. Defuse them."

"Right now. That's your job, and I don't care if you have to walk into them to get the work done." Mindy was fairly emphatic about that, and didn't seem to care I was trussed up, swinging from a tree, still suffering with an over-active travel geas on every backswing. Not really in the best of shape to do magic.

The only real blessing was she's let my hands free and had ungagged me. The rope holding me in the tree was around my waist and shoulders and I was currently slung face down over a low branch.

Mindy was worried, I could tell. The witch on this mountain had a real nasty reputation as a people-trapper and she was very concerned about avoiding her. I was the one supposed to do that for her.

You had to wonder what kind of a trapper worried a native Indian-girl, who was a little too well-versed in keeping people tied up for my comfort, but I was supposed to clear the way anyway. I swung back and forth in the tree slowly, legs still churning and tried to explain it again. "Listen, Mindy..."

"Mistress." She snapped at me, still sitting on her buffalo. "You're free to do whatever magic you need to wizard, but I need to know where the traps are here on witch's mountain. And right now."

"But I need to see the traps before I can do anything with them." I protested. "Just sitting in the air looking at rocks doesn't do anything for me."

"Hum. Maybe you're right. Your geas is land-magic, right?" Mindy sat on her buffalo and seemed to think for a moment or two. "Hold still. I might be able to do something with that."

She got off her buffalo with her staff in one hand, and let her mount wander over to graze on the grass. Then she came over to peer up at me carefully. I got very, very nervous as her new kittens and familiar joined her and all four of them started staring at me expectantly.

"Let me see..." One hand on her chin, Mindy studied me carefully. The herd of cats she had with her helped her with that and seemed to be offering her suggestions. "Be quiet for a moment, wizard. Or this will go hard on you." She grumbled out. "I don't want to miss, either."

I began to get very, very, worried as Mindy started revving up her magics and pointing her staff at me.

***

## chapter 30 beach of a witch

The beach was pretty much what you'd expect a mountain beach to be; a strip of mostly small jagged rocks, almost gravel, with lots of mud and bush surrounding a stream that fed the lake from a tiny ravine in the hillside.

There was a small beaver dam at the far end of the lake where some industrious rodent was trying to flood a meadow. It wasn't working well, but you could see where he was cutting down trees and dragging their branches to his lodge anyway.

The old witch of the mountain was sunning herself on a big rock near the small bluff she'd jumped off; still giggling to herself in the loose weed-strewn scree. There was a small bottle in her hands now, so Henna assumed the harvested oil-flowers weren't dosing the madwoman with any more happy-juice.

"I don't think it's safe to talk to her at all." Marvin grumbled, more to himself than anyone else as Henna checked the scenery out. "She's probably booby-trapped too. Look how many people she's killed around here."

"Or tried to kill." Henna corrected quietly. She stopped stumbling over loose rocks and looked the witch over from a safe distance. "Tough old bird. She does look OK for someone blasted by oil and recently tossed off a cliff."

"Yeah. Let's sell a perfume based on that oil. We'd get rich in the city." Marvin sighed and floated over for a closer look at the quietly giggling witch. He zipped back quickly. "At least in the party sections of the city. Maybe the desperate would want some. One kiss and the boys would go loopy. She's OK, Mindy. Nothing bruised or bleeding, or at least bleeding anymore." He corrected himself quickly. "She's fine. Let's get out of here."

"There's a couple questions I want to ask her first." Henna replied absently. "While she's in a talkative mood and too exhausted to run."

"Or try anything. You think she's going to tell you where her traps are? Now that's wishful thinking." Marvin spent his time hovering over the prone witch, watching her carefully as Henna worked her way closer thru the jumble of loose rock. "Lets get out of here before she decides it's worth her time to ghost up. If she can see me..."

"Too late for that, little ghost." The witch of the mountain stopped her almost silent giggling and sat up glaring. She creaked when she did. "You think I'm stupid? That was the first thing I did when I found out my latest visitor was another witch. Get some ghost oil in me."

"You'd be surprised how many people think an invisible ghost companion makes all my traps visible." She cackled in glee. "Idiots. Just wait till you fall into one of the ghost traps, little fella. There's lots of them out there. Then we'll see who laughs last."

"If they aren't already full of the mindless wanderers." Henna said quietly, watching the old woman as she pulled her clothes back into some sort of dripping order. "Or demons. Keeping you trap-lines clear must be quite the chore, witch."

"Bah. You're a little too smart for your own good, girl." The old witch snapped that at Henna peevishly as she checked various pockets for whatever she was keeping in them. There were an impressive number of pockets in the old witch's tattered clothes and most of them rattled with mysterious and probably lethal contents. "But I'll get you yet, just wait and see."

"Lost some of your supplies, did you?" Henna said sweetly to the grumpy old woman. "A quick bath in a mountain lake doesn't do dry herbs a lot of good, does it?"

"You're disarmed. Surrounded. I have a ghost and you don't. Plus all my magic is still running." Henna said flatly to the old witch. "So let's talk."

"Yeah. Let's start with the ghost traps." Marvin said quickly. He darted forward and started his own perusal of the witch's pockets.

"She does have some soggy Athena." He reported back to Henna quietly after a few moments of hemming and hawing. He zipped back to her. "Nothing on her that'll really bother me, thou."

"She's running a bluff, in more ways than one. I think she just wanted to clear the oil out of her system with her swim." Henna watched the sulky old witch carefully. "So what do you want to tell us now, witch?"

"Nothing, girl." The old woman snarled helplessly and slapped at the ghost zipping thru her pockets. It had no effect on Marvin. "I'll tell you nothing. You're just another nuisance to me. Go ahead and see if you can survive the traps I put on this mountain. Not even I can remember them all."

"Falling into one of your own traps has got to be one of the bad ways to start the day." Henna agreed, shaking her head slightly. "Being pushed into one is worse. Which way do you want to do it? Show us a safe route? Shall I tie you up and leave you by a campfire or something instead?"

"Heh. That was one of the better ones, wasn't it?" the old woman cackled happily, still trying to get comfortable in her wet clothes. "There's worse out there. Even a few for your nosy friend."

"And I want to know about them." Settling down on a rock, Henna pulled her own knapsack open and started rummaging inside it. "I have no idea how well all these things will mix together, but I intend to find out. You've already got oil in you. Shall I dust you first, or would you prefer daemon-tea?"

"Tea." The old witch sighed and stayed scratching at her drying clothes. "With sugar, if you have any."

"Fine, but you get the smoky end of the fire. Just honey in here." Henna replied absently, still rattling her supplies around. "I got some while in town. It looks like clover-honey to me."

"I have a few hives located in the lavender fields." The old witch said perkily. "It makes a wonderful wax, too. You should try it."

"Perfume masks too many other things." Henna replied, finally pulling out a small satchel triumphantly. "Dangerous things. Handy sometimes, but not today. Ah, here it is. Demon root, treated with spring moonshine."

"You can eat, tea, dust, smoke or cram this somewhere delicate." She said sweetly to the old witch, opening the small packet. "I don't care which. Ten minutes from now you'll be telling me everything I want to know."

"For the rest of the day, you'll talk." Henna mentioned in a satisfied tone, using her knife to pare off a small chunk of demon weed. "To anything. About anything."

"Ha. Mostly mixed with a lot of trash-talk." The old witch grumped, annoyed. "Here, just give me a piece. No tea. Starting a fire with anything around here is dangerous, even driftwood."

"That grass-seed from the meadow tends to spread out a bit, I've noticed." She admitted reluctantly finally as Henna stared at her. "You don't want to try eating anything you haven't washed really well either."

Henna handed the witch a small portion of the demon root. The old witch grumbled, then put it in her mouth and started chewing. Henna showed the old witch the handful of dust she was holding. The old witch glared at her, grumped a bit more, then swallowed.

"We have twenty minutes before the demon root kicks in really well." Henna said happily. "Let's get comfortable."

There were a few rapid explosions off down the mountain just then, a series of faint rapid booms that echoed away and died in the distance.

"Or we could find out who else is mucking around up here, setting off traps." Marvin sighed and rose up into the air. "Just great. Another one of those interesting days. Wait right here, I'll be right back."

***

## chapter 31 fire with fire

Sitting on the buffalo as it meandered up the mountain, I, Aaron the wizard whimpered and cursed my miserable fate. Mindy the Indian witch, my current owner, was by my side gloating, Blackpaw the cat was riding on her shoulder and his magical kittens were in a sack slung across the girl's front.

The buffalo jolted with every step. It was not a smooth ride, but I hardly had time to notice that, as he was walking in the wrong direction for me.

My geas wanted to go in other directions and every movement set the warning pains off. Trying to walk backwards while riding to fool my geas was a thought, but it wasn't having any of that. Every jolting step forward the buffalo made dragged another shriek out of me and worse yet, Mindy seemed to be humming along with the noise.

Harmonizing with screeches of pain seemed a bit grisly, but Mindy was like that. Opportunistic.

"That's far enough. Check for traps again, wizard." Leaning against the buffalo to stop it, the Indian witch-girl chuckled one of her new kittens under the chin, then rubbed it's cheek gently. She didn't even look over at me. "And don't take so long about it this time. You're making this a slow trip."

"There's nothing I can do about that." The wheezing sound I was making was not fake. I could not get used to the pain this morning, and having to think about traps while stopped was creating a whole new series of magical aches for me. Mindy had laid a new spell on top of my geas, commanding me to watch the land for magical traps.

I don't know how she did it, but the geas forcing me to walk to the gate was now also compelling me to avoid magical traps. Or at least tell her about them.

"And there's nothing I can do about the snares anyway." I added, delaying things as best I could. I really needed a breather before trying more magic of any kind. "I see magic, not ropes."

"Yah. You're a pitiful wizard." Mindy sighed and looked up and over the small path they were traveling. "Relax. No rockfalls, snares, dead trees about to fall, pits, traps or stalking mountain lions here. That much I can see. You find the magic traps now."

"I'm trying. Thinking like a witch isn't easy for me at the best of times." I groaned and tried to look out over the path ahead. There were some magic glows here and there, but it was defuse. "It really looks like the whole mountain is deadly to me." I grumbled out. "You over-did your spell. Even poison ivy is showing up as a threat."

"Yah. I do good magic." Mindy said absently. "Hurry. I don't know how long I can hold your curse to do my work. It's a tiring business."

"Fine. Out there now? Don't eat anything, don't start any fires, stay away from all smelly flowers, avoid breathing, bathing and don't touch anything you don't have to. There's a few ghosts about, but they're acting like butterflies, as usual. If we stay on this path, we're almost safe. For about the next hundred yards, anyway."

I was too tired to even try lying to Mindy. She looked over the mountain-scape, nodded and started the buffalo up the small hill we were on again.

"Put the gag back in, wizard." She grunted as I tried muffling the stabs of pain and screams every step tore out of me. "You're way too noisy for this kind of work. We're trying to sneak thru here, remember."

"The explosions back there told anybody on this mountain who wanted to know someone was up here." I grunted as the buffalo paused between steps. "Not my fault. I did try to warn you about that."

"Yah. Your magic is clumsy, too." Mindy waited till I had the slimy ball of leather rags stuffed back in my mouth, then slapped the buffalo back into motion again. "You didn't really need to destroy the whole tree because a few pine cones were magicked to drop on us, did you?"

I kept my legs moving while ignoring her. There was no choice about that. I just tried to imagine they were taking me backwards.

It didn't work very well, even with her magic confusing my geas a little. I wondered again how she's managed to turn my geas into a magic-detecting spell but couldn't concentrate on the problem very well.

I ignored the noisy ghosts zipping by me. There weren't many of them this high in the mountains, but there were a few and I guess I was the day's entertainment. So far, they'd been harmless.

It was a very painful hundred yards and I groaned as we made it to the top of a small ridge. The view was nice, but it almost tore another groan out of me. The mountain was in front of us and the path we were walking toiled it's winding way around a small lake all the way up the mountainside.

It weaved, backtracked here and there, switch-backing it's way up the mountain.

Every step of it looked booby-trapped to me, an endless path thru a magical hell and I was going to have to work for every step of the way. Twice, once magically.

Then I noticed the big blobs in the landscape. There were people out there and they were heading towards us.

My excited burbling must've tipped Mindy off to something, because after looking at me for a few seconds, she stopped the buffalo and waited for me to get things together again.

"Two people heading this way." I grunted, nodding off towards where I'd seen the glows heading our way. "Both magic. Seem to be witches, as they're carrying a lot of plant-power with them. And a ghost makes three."

"Ah, company." Mindy didn't seem all that disturbed about having visitors this morning. "I've been expecting the witch of the mountain to put in an appearance today. It seems she's up early."

"I wonder who's with her? She has a reputation of killing anybody that dares to travel here." Mindy mused to herself. "Or letting them walk into her traps, to be more honest."

"The ghost does complicate things." The witch said quietly, more to herself than anyone else. "Probably a dead warrior from one of the old wars. They make great scouts. If you can find one with an ounce of brains left in him, that is."

"Males almost always make stupid ghosts." She added in a quiet aside to me. "They almost never bring any skills with them into the afterlife. Most of them turn into blobs of old frustrations and nothing else after a few weeks. It's all they ever had."

"You just can't get good help these days, can you?" I wheezed, closing my eyes to the endless march spread out in front of me as it was a very depressing sight. "We don't have much time. They'll be here in a few minutes."

"And they aren't setting off any traps." Mindy noted. "It has to be the witch. Good. I've always wanted to meet her."

"We'll wait right here." She decided, after looking around a bit." A hilltop is a good defensive spot."

"Yah. We're easily trapped, too." I said quietly. "Wait. You want to fight her? Are you going to hang me from another tree or just leave me on this buffalo for this?"

"Haven't decided yet." Mindy said cheerfully. "Let's get upwind from any attacks first."

***

## chapter 32 meeting of the minds

"Great. I'm the center of attention for a coven of witches."

"No, you're not. You aren't even a side-issue here, wizard." Mindy looked up from where she and the other two witches were enjoying a cup of tea around a fire and smirked at the apprentice sprawled on a tree branch.

Aaron the wizard's apprentice was hanging from a tree again, still swishing his legs in a vain magical attempt to walk to the gate. Of the three girls around the fire, one of the witches seemed to be talking mostly to herself and her new pet rock but the other two were engrossed in their discussions.

Which had wandered from different soaps to guys to magic. They didn't seem to have any sort of objective or agenda and hadn't had one from the time Mindy had arranged a truce with the young witch Henna's pet ghost, who was now busy spending all his time playing with the kittens.

The cat Blackpaw seemed fairly relieved at that, for some reason. He still seemed faintly outraged very time he glanced at the playing younglings but did seem to approve of the kittens clumsy but enthusiastic attempts to murder the ghost.

"We have far more important things than you to talk about, wizard." Mindy added absently, putting more honey in her tea. "Now be quiet."

"So you captured the witch of the mountain. Nice. We're been after her for years." Mindy said quietly to the young girl sitting across the fire from her. She seemed very impressed. "How did you do it?"

"Got her to eat some demon-root. That's why she's babbling so happily right now. Mixed in with a dose of Ayer's Oil too, from some flowers she picked on me yesterday." Henna seemed a little off-hand about that. She wasn't mentioning the senile old woman had accidentally dosed herself with oil trying to get away.

"Ayer's? Oh, you mean moss-flowers? Why did she do that?" Mindy seemed puzzled. "There's a lot better things to steal up here if you can find them. Lots of them." She added absently, looking over at the babbling old witch.

"I was on my way to harvest some of that." Henna explained things happily, with an airy toss of her hand. "Starting with the flowers. There's a deal I have with Harvey the bookseller in town. I get him some oil, he helps me on a couple other projects." Henna told Mindy that confidently.

"Geez. Guys are so dumb." Mindy sighed heavily and flexed her chest wearily. There were answering murmurs of agreement from both of the other witches. "Holy intense, explosive or satisfying sex! Moss-flowers aren't that hard to get. Why the fuss? He's afraid to go into the mountains or something?"

"He can't leave the store. They only bloom every few years anyway." Henna protested amiably. "That was my deal. It takes ages to for him to get any oil together."

"Ha. Put some bird-crap on the moss and they'll bloom every few months." Mindy snorted in disgust. "And they'll grow on almost anything then. You can get all the flowers you want. Every couple of months for the next few years, in fact."

"Here." Mindy snorted, then reached into her bag and tossed Henna a small bottle about the size of her thumb. "There's all the Myers oil you need to scam the bookseller, whatever his name was, with. And give the rest of the town a serious case of the sillies, if you want to." she added, looking faintly amused.

"Thanks. I didn't know that." Henna got excited and started chirping happily as she held the bottle up to the light. "I wonder if bird-crap will work on Appleby bush, too. They're a problem to find these days. Great. This is a fix to most of my problems. I can leave the bandit camp, sell this in town and get enough money to buy a place of my own there."

"You want to live in town? Oh, I won't do that if I were you." Mindy chuckled and slurped at her tea in a smug way. "Not for very long, anyway. I plan to stampede a few million buffalo thru that burg in a couple years. For a start. When my kittens get bigger there won't be enough of the town left to live in. After I finish burning the leftovers to the ground, that is."

"It'd be a shame if your new place got reduced to rubble too." Mindy said quietly, still sipping tea. "I'm still working on a good way to fill in the basements and root-cellars." She added to Henna confidently, with a distant look on her face. "One that doesn't take a lot of work. I don't want anyone to move back there anytime soon."

"Oh." Henna was still bouncing around, happy with her new bottle of oil. "Thanks for the warning. Would you like a witch? I have this old one here I'm not using." She asked the Indian girl excitedly, gesturing at the witch of the mountain, who was concentrating on explaining to her rock just how to set up an avalanche on the higher slopes just then.

"You might like her a lot more than a screaming wizard's apprentice." Henna added, with a small laugh in my direction. "She'll be a bit more impressive to the folks back home, too."

"You two know Harvey? That old scallywag and I go a long way back. Why, I used to visit him every few months when I was younger. He gave me the books on how to set up traps here, in fact." The witch of the mountain blinked at them, then stopped explaining how, instead of being part of an avalanche trigger, her pet rock might like being the bait-trigger for a different type of trap.

"It was part of his wizard's library. Stuff that didn't work on the gate. He has the biggest collection of magic that doesn't work around, did you know that? Trust a guy to do something stupid like that."

Both girls exchanged glances. "Why don't you tell us about those books?" Mindy asked the mountain-witch carefully. Henna giggled.

"I'll bet there were a lot of traps in them." The redhead mentioned quietly, blinking innocently at the old girl.

"You don't know the half of it. I got three books from Harvey. Small-boy, I used to call him, 'cause he wasn't very good. Or very long in the trouser snake, if you know what I mean...."

The girls listened raptly to the old witch, getting caught up on twenty year old gossip and a very detailed account of how the witch had booby-trapped the mountain using old magic books.

With lots of asides on how stupid guys were in general and how the traps were made for them in particular.

"I was planning to use a wizard's apprentice, if the gate-spells on him can get broken." Henna whispered to Mindy. "Keeping a guy out front would be handy for me in town. Stop the sudden family-marriages type of thing from happening."

"Any of them would do, really." She said speculatively, looking at me. The old witch of the mountain babbled on in the background, talking magic traps, booby traps and false trails. Mindy was fascinated by her. "I can spell him to do what I want. Or drug him, if I have to."

"You can have that one." Mindy grumbled out, with a nod in my direction. "I don't need him. And as for getting the witch and this mountain from you, I should really toss in my buffalo and a kitten to sweeten the deal. If you want one. That old girl is really, really famous in my village."

The old witch looked up happily at being mentioned and caught sight of the kittens. She gasped in wonder, again. "Onstrad Kittens! Unbelievable. That's some magic, witch." She shook her head in disbelief. "You're welcome at my house anytime."

Then she returned to lecturing her rock in a dark mutter, telling it old secrets.

"Using a magical male midwife... mid-husband, that is... did the trick. It's probably why witches never had the Onstrad kits survive birth before. Those books sound sweet." Mindy added, looking up the mountain in a wondering way. "I wonder where she keeps them."

"Bottom of the north slope. That's where she picked us up yesterday. She says that's where her home is. Oh, I got lots out of this deal already." Henna burbled on, quickly. "That oil alone makes my day. Let's get the witch to talk about ghost-traps now."

"And start some lunch. These kittens require a lot of feeding." Mindy added, wincing a little. "Maybe the old witch has something in one of her trap-lines I can toss them. I don't think they like raw wizard." She added, with a nasty look at me. "Pity about that. He'd last for days."

The two girls started preparing food from both their packs while the old witch babbled on and on about ghost-proofing her home in various ways.

***

## chapter 33 switch

I swung from the tree, still trying to swish down the mountain lying on a mid-air perch and listened glumly. Sooner or later they'd get around to me, I knew it.

Even the buffalo was currently ignoring me, thou.

My status wasn't in question. I was a slave, a barter-chip. You'd wonder who I'd ended up with. The two sober witches were dealing furiously with each other, and this wasn't the first time I'd changed owners today.

Some ghost had managed a prisoner exchange the first time. I was part of that. The second time I'd been part of a deal for safe passage thru witch, Indian and bandit territories by the two young witches. One redheaded witch now had some sort of 'friend' armband now that'd stop any of the natives from attacking her and the Indian girl Mindy a better map of where the bandits liked to hide out.

Now I was a side issue in a book-deal. I groaned and tried not to listen to the girl's babble on. I couldn't wait for this day to end.

If nothing else, I might not end up a sacrifice to some heathen god in a remote Indian village at the end of these deals. Or killed for being a noisy pest some early morning dawn by a cranky witch.

Or as dog-food for kittens, which seemed more likely at the moment.

I had hopes now, anyway. The young witch seemed to have some use for me and kept glancing at me speculatively. All three of them had secret plans I guess, even the old one who apparently only wanted to kill me.

Mindy had already informed Henna-the-Red of my short-comings as a Tantric master. Repeatedly, and in great detail, so that fate didn't seem likely.

They didn't feed me much all day; the ghost zipped by every few minutes to check on my ropes while the kittens plotted new strategies for their attacks on him. The girls ignored me, balancing their day between pumping the old witch for information, playing with the kittens, eating, drinking tea and making outrageous plans together.

Mindy even showed Henna, the young witch, a few ways to bend the spells on me so I would more-or-less willingly do various painful, humiliating and undignified things for her. They did not trust me to do as much as gather firewood, thou. If I got loose there was too much chance I'd just wander away and head to the gate any way I could.

After a short washroom break, I got put back in the tree for the night, again sleeping balanced on a branch. Somehow, Mindy managed to ease my geas off, so I could rest without doing any sleepwalking or being anything other nominally tied down.

Henna giggled madly at the fuss Mindy made making sure I was secure but kept offering her own list of weird suggestions. Nobody was listening to me and my suggestions. Mindy didn't need much help.

The new young witch of the mountain, Mindy, just dosed her new captive, the old witch of the mountain, with more demon-root occasionally and made sure she wasn't likely to think of going cliff-diving again.

That was a change in her plans. The mountain the old witch had prepped for the last twenty years was perfect for Mindy's plans and she was planning on staying here now. She needed a quiet place to let her kittens grow up and witch's mountain was perfect for that.

The mountain was unbeatable as a place to hide out. It came already equipped with a school and teacher for new magics, food trap-lines and lots and lots of defences against jealous male relatives.

Henna seemed to approve of Mindy's new location and plans. Buffalo seemed fairly indifferent, but Blackpaw and the kits seemed enthusiastic.

I wasn't asked my opinion. The girls talked and sat up making magic far into the night and I fell asleep early, tied up and lying on a low branch in a tree.

***

Mindy's last command while the witches split up the spoils the next morning was fairly typical for her.

"Wake up, wizard. I need something done."

That was accompanied by a tug on my rope, waking me up. It also set off my geas, which picked a direction and started my legs moving. My thrashing around on the tree branch while trying to keep my balance, bladder under control and wake up all at the same time seemed to amuse the three witches watching me.

This was a quiet morning, too. The old witch wasn't chattering as much as she was yesterday, but she did seem docile. I guess the magic the two witches made last night included some sort of restraint spell on her.

"Like I have a choice." I grumbled, still furiously trying to stop myself from hitting the ground hard. "Do I get watered first? Fed at all? Is there a washroom around here anywhere?"

"Wizards! He's got a real bad attitude for a rescued slave, doesn't he?" Henna said absently, from where she was finishing the clean-up of a small breakfast by the coals of the fire. The youngest of the witches sniffed and emptied a small water-skin on the few remaining fire-coals; they hissed soggily and angrily at her. "I'll be working on that, I can see."

"Oh, I've been threatening to kill him every twenty minutes or so for the last few days. He's gotten a little surly about being used like this." Mindy noted quietly, a small grin on her face. "It doesn't matter, this isn't a big deal. Even for him."

"What do you want me to do, mistress?" I groaned out, still scratching myself awake with one hand and hanging onto the branch with the other. "All last requests cheerfully refunded if I fail."

"Snarky first thing in the morning, isn't he?" The old witch cackled to herself and gave me the benefit of one beady old eye. "Give me twenty minutes with him. I can cheer him up."

"Quiet, old woman." Mindy tugged on the rope, almost taking me out of the tree. Again. "Listen, wizard. You're her slave now, got that?" Mindy pointed at Henna the Red carefully as she did that; I could feel magic shift as she finished. Fresh magic, I could tell. Mindy had obviously put more than one spell on me last night. More while I was asleep over the last few days too, from the feel of it.

"Yes, ex-mistress." I grumbled out, still trying to stay in the tree and not start trying to walk off. "I'm her's now. What is it you want anyway?"

"Figure out a way for the two of you to get to town, wizard." Mindy said carefully, looking at her fingernails. I sputtered out an answer before I even knew I was going to say anything.

"Just let her climb on my back. She'll get there eventually. We both will."

It was an obvious solution, it was just one I wish I hadn't offered. Also totally involuntarily. Mindy was demonstrating her craft to me again by making sure I knew I had to obey even impossible commands now.

You had to shudder a little at this development. Not that Henna the Red was a big girl or anything, but back-packing a hundred pounds around on my back for a few 15 klick forced marches did not sound like fun.

"Fine." Mindy grinned up at me carefully and undid a few ropes, letting blood rush back into places I hadn't known were almost dead. "Get ready to do it. It's been a blast, wizard. The next time I see you I'll kill you for sure, so be more careful."

"Unless I bring him up here on a visit." Henna mentioned quietly as I laid there and achingly shook sore muscles awake. Hot blood started rushing back into the more remote spots on my body, adding to what was now my usual collection of pains. "I'm sure he could be handy gathering firewood and whatnot on camping trips like that. Even if his magic is clumsy."

Henna came over and looked up at me speculatively as I thrashed in the tree, trying to come back to life, or at least get my body working again. "A piggy-back ride into town, what fun. I wonder why I didn't think of that."

"I have a buffalo. That probably inspired him. Old witch, get on it." Mindy wandered away from the tree I was in now that the ownership trade had been completed. The old witch creaked herself up from the cold campsite and slowly mounted the buffalo. She did not look happy riding it.

"I'll be here on witch's mountain for the next couple years if you need to talk again." Mindy went on, picking up her pack. The kits and her familiar all gathered around her and looked up expectantly. "Here, wizard. You might need this." She finally added reluctantly. "A last gift."

"He might need one to stay standing up today." She confided to Henna as she reached around her buffalo. "Or to hit snakes and bandits with. I'd let him keep it till he starts getting too playful." She threw a staff from the buffalo to me. I caught it with one hand reflexively, still in the tree and stared at it in shock. It was my staff, my old one and getting it back felt great. I had no idea how much I missed it till it was returned to me.

"Thanks." I muttered in wonder. I wondered if the witches knew what I could do with my staff, then decided not to tell them. My new owner could always find that out the hard way.

"Other than that, this is goodbye." Mindy finished, patting things more firmly into place in the buffalo harness.

"Goodbye, then." Henna said carefully, still looking up at me. The she turned and picked up her own knap. "Wizard, get down and let me get on your back."

I fell out of the tree so fast I didn't even know what I was doing; and still managed to land standing on wobbly legs. With the help of my staff, now. My legs had stopped their geas-drive, I noticed. Then the pain of ignoring that magic kicked in and started to spread.

I stayed bent over too, with the geas pain thrashing thru me till Henna mounted up on my back, then we started walking off.

Well, I walked off, that is. Henna was riding on my back. I didn't look back at Mindy, I was too relieved as various magical pains faded as we finally got to start out on my quest again. Henna giggled as I stumbled my way back down the mountain, not even picking out a clear path as I determinedly blundered towards my goal.

"It might take some effort to get you on the right road, wizard." She murmured quietly in my ear after a particularly tough bush slowed me down a little. "Painful effort, if what Mindy tells me is correct. There's a path about twenty yards over that way." She gestured in a vaguely sideways manner. "There is a way down there, much easier for us to travel on than your route. Get on it."

My response was instant, immediate and involuntary. Ignoring the geas pain, I marched sideways yelping with pain till the trail came into view, then stopped on the path and groaned some more as I looked over the day's march spread before me.

It was a typical mountain path in front of me, one that twisted, turned and went around the bigger obstacles. Lots of them. You could see the occasional burn marks in the greenery where I'd taken out booby traps on my way up parts of it.

It looked miserable. My geas never made little distinctions like if there was a lake, mountain or cliff in my way before; it'd never let me deviate from it's chosen direction and as I straight-lined my way to the gate.

Obviously, today was not going to be one of those straight days. Henna the Red reached around me and stuffed the gag back in my mouth. I grunted and bit down on it hard.

"Mindy told me you'd need a lot of direction. Also this gag." The small witch on my back giggled and leaned an elbow on my shoulder. She pointed imperially down the mountain with one hand. "Lucky for you, we reach the lowlands in an hour or two. Follow this path down the mountain. Now."

I desperately looked the crude rut in front of me over, trying to tell myself this won't be too bad. I didn't believe me. The trail looked like a twisted horror for someone driven to march in straight lines.

"March as fast as you want to go, wizard, it's all downhill from here. Stay on this trail. The sooner we start, the sooner we end this." With that, Henna made herself more comfortable on my back. "Go."

I lurched forward and started off the mountain path, already whimpering thru the gag. This wasn't quite in the right direction for me and my geas was protesting. Henna ignored my noise.

The young witch's pet ghost scouted out the path for us and returned with tidbits of gossip for her every few minutes. I ignored him, I was busy trying not to die of the pain that wracked thru me with every wrong step.

***

## chapter 34 walk to town

"We're kind of lucky witch's mountain has the town between us and the gate. The village being in a wrong direction would make this a rough walk for you."

Henna the Red looked at the crumbled wizard lying on the ground at their new campsite in the grasslands and sighed. She'd taken a route down from witch's mountain that put both the town and the gate in a direct line for travel, with careful attention to distance so they could stop in the town for the night when they got there.

The wizard didn't seem to appreciate being forced off his path for most of the day, even after they'd gotten off the twisting mountain path and back into the flats. This route had been one of Mindy's suggestions to Henna and she'd taken it cheerfully.

The apprentice hadn't talked much during the day. His gag had seen to that.

The gag was a chewed and slimy mess now. The apprentice had spent most of the day trying to howl in pain and struggling against the misdirection of his geas to Henna's will. It hadn't done him any good at all.

"Gods! I think my curse is getting stronger the closer we get to the gate." He finally gasped out. The voice coming out of the crumpled robe on the ground seemed a little muffled to Henna, but a little stronger now.

The wizard's apprentice Mindy had given him had fallen into a sorry moaning heap the second his geas had run out and hadn't moved since. "Certainly feels like it. It's getting harder and harder to ignore the pain, not easier." The weary apprentice gasped out. "Man, what a day!"

"And your redirection magic doesn't change the fact my curse thinks I'm going in the wrong direction." He added, rolling over into a panting heap on his back. His face was now pointed up, but his eyes were still closed. "The geas knows. Boy, does my geas know."

"Well, it'll be much easier for you from here on in, apprentice." Henna said quietly, ignoring the twitching wizard. "There's even another stream ahead of us for you to fall in again. A warmer one. In the morning." she added, irked. "By yourself this time."

The wizard had taken the first opportunity he'd gotten to jump into a mountain stream on the way down the trail today. Henna had gone from a peaceful doze to a shockingly icy bath in two fast steps when the marching wizard had walked right into the pool; she was still annoyed about it.

Having to ride a wet wizard as he poled his way down the rest of the mountain wasn't much fun either. The wizard had moaned about the cold water too, even while being face-down in it and busy trying to drink the mountain stream dry.

"Sorry about that, but at least you ended up standing. Waist-deep in the pool, yes, but standing. Me? I was under you at the time. Trying to breathe water." The wizard was unrepentant. "That was the first bath I've had in days, too. I really needed to get rid of the buffalo fleas."

"Yes, I know you do." Henna scratched a small red welt on her arm and grimaced. "I did offer you some power to get rid of them, remember? Next time warn me before you do anything like that." Sighing, Henna looked up at the sun. There wasn't much daylight left in the day with her frequent stops to harvest some plants during the day, just not much. The wizard had stayed frozen into place whimpering while she had gathered supper in the grasslands, among a few other plants.

The new spells on him had made sure of that, even if she could feel them weakening the closer they got to the gate. "There will be a roasted roots to eat in a few minutes, wizard." She said determinedly. "Just as soon as you get a fire going. Oh, by the way. I'm Henna. Henna the Red."

Henna shook her long red hair in it's braid and grinned at the exhausted, groaning wizard. "And I'm a witch in a bandit camp. A very dangerous one. You can call me Henna or mistress, whichever you prefer."

The wizard grumbled quietly to himself for a few seconds, then rolled over and gestured with his staff at a small heap of dried dung and sticks Henna had made him pick up during the day. They were piled at the center of the campsite now, inside a small hole in the ground.

The pile promptly exploded a little, then settled back into a bright flaming mass. The wizard collapsed back on his face and continued with his heavy breathing.

"I'm Aaron, wizard's apprentice. " He murmured into the dirt. He offered up one hand weakly, then let it fall back to grasp his staff. "Ex-apprentice. On my way to the gate, the place most failed apprentices get sent to. I will probably die there, attempting to fix it. My geas-curse will make sure of that, no matter how much you twist it around first."

He groaned and made a fumbling attempt for a water-skin, sitting up enough to drain about half of it in one long swallow. "But you know all that, right?" He asked, wearily wiping an eye and propping himself up on his elbows. "Is there anything else I can tell you?" He glared at the witch like she was responsible for all his troubles, exhausted.

"What do you know about Harvey the bookseller? The magic-shop owner in the town we're headed to." Henna asked absently, wrapping tubers in leaves, shoving them into the fire and dragging coals over them with a small stick.

Aaron the apprentice snorted and went back to the water-skin, hitting it hard. "The book-dealer? Don't deal with him. He scavengers staffs, books and research from any magicals who wander thru town. Especially the cursed and driven. He's supposed to have the biggest collection of gate-related books anywhere on earth." Aaron shook his head and laid face-down in the grass again. "He isn't much of a wizard. He's a third generation bookseller, managing the shop his father left him. Has more magical tools than he knows how to use."

"The problem is, he's about as magically gifted as this rock is." Aaron went on. "Completely self-trained. No real power to speak of, but does know how to use whatever spells are around him. Very dangerous in a stupid kind of way because his family has been doing this for hundreds of years and he has an enormous collection of stuff to fall back on."

"Or so the description of him back home goes. He's used to threaten every new apprentice every wizard takes on. Get good or get gated. Meet the bookseller. We've all heard of him." The apprentice wizard sighed and tried to get comfortable, still face-down on the lumpy, grassy terrain. "Some people even do get sent there. People like me."

"I also have a ghost." Henna the Red shook her head sadly. "And a couple other friends. I am not powerless on my own, wizard."

"Never said you were." Aaron sighed and buried his face deeper in the grass. "But you're a witch. You use nature, people and guile. I'm a wizard and I just beat the things that annoy me to death with pure power."

"Or try to." He sighed and rolled over again, slowly coming back to life. "Sometimes it's you that gets beaten to death instead. You learn to live with that. Is supper going to be ready anytime soon? I'm starving."

"My abuse of nature and the elements around me will be cooked in a few minutes." Henna smirked a little. "They aren't very big ones, they should be ready soon. Apprentice."

"Thanks. I haven't had a decent meal in weeks now. Not since I tripped over an abandoned fish-stew in a lumber camp." The wizard sighed and started stretching out the sore muscles. "Mindy's idea of a good dinner was usually still twitching. After she fought her cat for it."

"Say, just what is it you want to do in town anyway?" He mumbled out, pulled twigs and dirt from his scraggly beard. "And what do I have to do with it?"

"Oh, I don't want my brother to marry me to one of his stupid friends, so I'm moving into town to start my own witchery practice." Henna started humming quietly. "You'll be there to stop him trying to take me back. Or fight city-hall, whichever comes first. I won't be there long, anyway. Mindy plans to erase the town from the map as soon as her kittens get big enough to level the place."

"That'll be in about a year." Aaron grumbled uneasily. "Cats grow up fast. Give her a few months listening to the old witch read her the books stashed up there, a couple months practising moves after the cats get big, and bang. The town is as good as gone."

"Only because it's an old wooden firetrap anyway." Henna added reluctantly. "You've never seen it. It won't take all that much to burn the place to the ground. Old wood is very flammable."

"Then stampede a buffalo herd thru and zap anybody left who tries to stay. I heard." Relaxing back in the grass, Aaron sighed and stared at the clouds. "Betcha it doesn't work, or not for very long. If the gate gets fixed, the people will come back. She's fighting money here and that can reach world-wide."

"Money only talks in a whisper, but can be heard for centuries." The wizard added. "And the body-count in the town won't bother anybody. If anyone ever gets the gate fixed, you can expect whole armies to arrive the next day. From all over. Then merchants. Then the religions."

"Then wizards. A buffalo stampede coming thru town would just be called dinner." The apprentice added absently, more to himself than anyone else. "They'd like that. Big armies are hard to feed at the best of times."

"There was that much trade thru the gate, was there?" Henna asked quietly.

"There was that much magic coming thru the gate." Aaron corrected quietly. "New magic no one had any defences against. New toys. Weapons. More than one person went thru, came back and promptly carved out a kingdom for themselves." He added gloomily. "Out of somebody else's hide. That's one of the reasons wizards finally took the gate over for themselves. Fighting off new magical invasions every few years got tiresome."

"Just eat your dinner, apprentice. Tomorrow will be easier on you." Henna pulled the tubers from the fire and watched the wizard wolf down a few, then fall asleep with one still grasped firmly in his hand. He still hadn't gotten up from where he'd fallen at the end of the day.

"Apprentices." Henna muttered to herself, setting out a blanket or two. One of them she put over the exhausted wizard, then she ate, banked the fire and went to sleep herself, hoping the grasslands stayed safe for them both.

***

## chapter 35 wake up slave

"Wake up, apprentice. Today is a brand new day."

Henna the Red kicked me awake the next morning, fairly gently. I found a cold tuber being shoved in my hand, so I ate it before getting up off the ground, the early morning light showing a clear blue sky dotted with puffs of clouds here and there above me.

Lots of sky, in fact. The mountains we had left yesterday were a deeper blue line on the horizon and the rest of the world was a sea of blue-domed green.

I rubbed my ribs and snorted. Her gentle kick was all part of an effort to stay on good terms with me, as we both knew Mindy's magic was weakening the closer I got to the gate.

Fairly soon it'd just snap; then I'd be free to do whatever I wanted to. Well, other than being geas driven, that is. No more having to obey her commands. No restrictions on my magic. It won't help Henna or her plans if I was feeling grumpy about that point at all.

I am still an apprentice wizard; not even a powerful witch wants one angry at her. A stranger's magic can be a lot of trouble.

Still, my geas helped her a lot. Being forced to march 15k a day till I got to the gate was her best defence now. If Mindy's spells fell apart, all she'd have to do is stop and I'd walk myself out of magical attack-range in seconds.

When I got to the gate, things would be a little different. Then the geas would switch over from making me travel to forcing to make magic, magic designed to make the gate work again.

It'd be interesting to see just how long I survived that. My magic was explosive at the best of times and how long it was before the geas forced me to try a really explosive spell would be about the length of time I lived.

The spell won't work, that much I knew already. The gate had excellent defences built in from the start, it'd been fought over for centuries and easily withstood everything thrown at it.

Our camp was already broken down, so when I got up and started marching away with my staff, it was a simple matter for the witch to jump on my back. I didn't even lose a step picking her up.

"It seems you're going to be riding on me all day long again." I grumbled as I started staffing my way thru the ankle-high grass on the flatlands. I thumped my staff into the turf hard with every step and glared straight ahead.

"It's the easiest way to keep track of you. You are still my slave, remember?" Henna the Red giggled a bit and settled into the ride. "You know, I really ought to make a harness for this. Wrapping my legs around you every stumble is getting irritating."

"Like this?" I stumbled over a grass turf and Henna, startled, squealed in panic and wrapped her legs around me hard till the ride stabilized again.

"Yes. Just like that." She gasped out, relaxing a bit. Then she whacked me on the shoulder from behind. "Really, Mr. Long-legs. If there's a better way of us staying together, I'd like to know it."

That stumped me. OK, she had a point. The geas was forcing me to travel and for the most part, at a fair clip. The short little witch with me would end up running half the time just to keep up with me.

She'd have to, I could easily tuck her under my chin when we stood face to face. Of course, Mindy was almost the same height. Only the old witch had been anywhere near tall, and she was stooped with age these days.

"You may be right." I finally grumbled out. "But I still don't have to like it. I'm carrying me, all the supplies and you on my back. All day long. That makes for a very tiring day."

"Oh, you get to fend off all the attacks." I added, skipping around a snake that was hiding in my path. I didn't get a good look at it before I was forced to march away whatever was slithering around my feet. "I'm a little busy trying to keep my feet safe. Somebody put holes all thru the flats around here."

"Then filled them with snakes." I added carefully, using my staff to poke ahead of us as we traveled thru another chunk of lusher, higher grass. I looked ahead of us, saw a small hill coming up and groaned. "You get to handle the bandits, merchants, Indians and magical traps, Henna. I get the grass-stains, holes, snakes and mud.

Plus whatever else is out there today. You live around here, you tell me." I grumbled and gasped that out, already getting tired of trying to walk uphill with a girl on my back.

"Speaking of holes, you fell into one." Henna said evenly, breaking off her almost constant low conversation with her pet ghost. "A buffalo trap. Mindy said she rescued you from one. All this carrying is your own fault, apprentice Aaron."

"Yes. Yes, it is. Please don't remind me." The march was already exhausting me and I knew that fairly soon I'd just be a marching machine with my eyes glued to the ground a few feet ahead of me. I won't have the energy left to do anything but move on.

That was the reason I'd stumped into the buffalo pit. By the end of the day, I was too tired to watch where I was going anymore and had marched right into it before I noticed where I was going...

"Our first stop is a ghost town just ahead. Well, a'ways north of here, but still directly in our path." Henna grinned a little. "You'll love it, it's a favorite stop for bandits. They raid caravans from there because it's hidden, the water is good, the ghosts are friendly and there's still hints of shelter left."

"A bandit hideout. Swell. I can't see it from here." I grumbled as I labored my way to the top of the hill. The breeze up there felt good to me and I spied a stream meandering across the plain ahead of me in the grass as I crested the grassy knoll.

There was even a nice sized pool just a little to one side of me in the valley. Right now I had a choice of walking into water deep enough to bath in or trying to ankle my way across some shallows.

"You won't see this place till you walk into it. They built with sod and the settlement is practically invisible till you open a door." Henna answered tartly. "Oh, my ghost says crossing the rapids up there is a lot harder than it looks. The rocks are all covered in slime, so head for the pool instead."

"Yes, mistress." I thumped my way down the hill, angling slightly so I could hit the pool in the river-bend dead-center.

It only hurt a little, and I was willing to put up with that in order to get to deep water. I was already getting thirsty and I hadn't even started to steam much yet.

Steaming would happen in a few minutes, when I had to climb the other side of whatever river valley I was currently marching into. That side looked much higher than the one I was stumbling down and it'd be a much harder climb.

If I wasn't dry from my morning bath, I would be by the time I got to the top of the hill. Or drenched in sweat again.

"Stop when you get to the riverbank. I'll need a few minutes to fill water skins and whatnot." Henna sounded eager to reach the water. I decided that traveling like this was almost as hard on her as it was on me. She had her head on my shoulder and seemed intent on staring at something dead ahead as she dug her chin into my back. "Be careful, wizard. Taking a tumble on this hill isn't on my list of things to do today."

"Yes dear." Then the hill got a little steeper and I started making good time stumbling down it. Very good, almost uncontrolled time that my staff couldn't slow at all. "Oh-boy, oh-boy, oh-boy, water! Riverbank, here I come." I yelped, grabbing one of Henna's legs a little more firmly and leaning into the downhill run.

Henna giggled and squealed as we both whooped our way down the hill faster and faster, heading towards the water ahead.

***

## chapter 36 flowering plants

"You were supposed to stop at the river bank, stupid."

"I know." Still marching on and up the hill on the other side of the small valley, Henna the Red sadly pull a strand of river-weed from Aaron's hair and tossed it aside, then went back to work on her own hair-weed. He didn't say anything, just kept marching on in a sullen silence, her a dripping-wet sack on his back. The staff kept up it's rhythmic thumping as Henna complained her way across the grasslands.

"I know the riverbank was muddy, but didn't you think hitting it at top speed like that would make stopping a little difficult?"

The apprentice winced. Mentioning that he'd been trying to stop for a long time before hitting the river or it's muddy bank was useless. Henna smirked and pretended she didn't appreciate just how fast they'd been going, or how much she's encouraged him running down the hill.

Or how slippery the mud was till they'd both slid screaming into the water.

It'd been a big surprise to them both. "It was quite a splash wizard, but now we're going to spend the rest of the day drying out." Came her unhappy little voice riding the wizard's back. "I believe I've mentioned how bad a wet wizard smells before. Now there's wet witch added to it."

Aaron's mouth stayed firmly shut. He'd had hit the riverbank sitting on his butt, yelling "Mud!", "Rock!", "Bump!" and "Oh gawds, no!", squealing almost as much as Henna about the cold slime he was traveling over as both of them zipped fast over the slimy clay. Stopping like that had gotten gunk all over the two of them, then a flying bounce had dumped both into the water before they could stop.

Aaron hadn't know just how well a witch could curse, even muffled by plants, till Henna had flipped over him and gone for a header into the river. She'd come up looking like a weed-zombie and absolutely furious.

By the time she could see again, Aaron had already plowed his into a deeper part of the pool and was thrashing there industriously washing the new layer of mud off, his staff floating beside him.

Well, quietly washing the mud off and trying to drink the river dry, too. His gown was floating up to his shoulders at times as he washed. He stayed there in the deeper parts till Henna had recovered enough to fill the water-skins and catch up to him.

The rest of the crossing had been a swim and a wade made mostly in a resentful, soggy silence. It'd been a fairly quiet journey ever since then as they both slowly dried in the bright morning sun, Henna on Aaron's back as he marched across the flats.

"Just so you know, I don't like the smell of wet wizard. You might be used to it, but I don't like it." The witch riding Aaron sniffed and snuggled in a little closer. "At least I have herbs in my sack. They smell a lot better than you do in your grungy robe."

"I'm sorry already. I didn't expect to be going that fast when we got to the bottom of the hill." The apprentice kept marching on, eyes fixed on the ground in front of him and watching for snakes, potholes and whatever other surprises the land had for them today.

The wizard sounded reasonably chipper. This was the first time in days he hadn't spent all his time suffering thru geas-pain. Apparently it felt great not to wake up still trying to get yesterday's distance in.

"This ghost-town we're going to. Is it far from here?" He finally asked gruffly. "How do we find it?"

"Oh, it's something I've only ever heard about. I've never been there." Henna, the witch on his back was starting to sound sleepy now and Aaron groaned quietly.

Henna smirked again. A wide-awake witch at tonight's camp probably meant he won't get any sleep at all, and he knew it. She smiled as Aaron deliberately stumbled a few times to shake her awake again.

"The boys use it as a staging area to attack caravans sometimes. I get stuck out in valleys as bait or a distraction, not dragged to the far camps." Henna confessed that quickly, pulling her head up long enough to look at the grasslands surrounding us. "Relax. We aren't there yet." She told him. "It should be a few miles past your daily march. It'll have a well and only look like a few small hummocks of grass, hills about waist high. It won't be much."

"You'll have to watch for it." He muttered, stomping his way on thru the grass. "After my geas runs out, you say? We can both walk in slowly into this hideout."

"Aaron, it's a place I've only ever heard of. I've never been there. And my ghost says it really is a ghost town. Demons and ghosts like hanging around there. The energy-is good, or something like that."

Henna tried to sound awake and felt better about it. Aaron didn't seem to appreciate the effort, thou.

"Fine. You know being stuck in a waterfall of ghostly energy will only make Mindy's spells wear off faster." The apprentice said evenly, glancing up at the endless grass in front of him and shuddering. "Other than you seeming to object to your morning bath, is there anything else today? Those little shopping-stops of yours are quite painful for me."

"Harvesting stops. You harvest whatever, wherever you find it, as a witch. You don't seem to mind eating, do you? And yes, there is something." Henna the Red snapped her head off the apprentice's shoulder and stared intently at a plant she knew she wanted growing in the grass. "Now, for instance. Stop by that clump of flowers over there, wizard." She ordered. "Those yellow ones."

"Yes, mistress." The wizard snapped out, peeved. He stopped, but kept marching in place, making inches instead of steps with every step. It kept the pain to a minimum. Henna slid off his back and hurried over to the flowers she seemed intent on harvesting. "Please hurry with whatever you're trying to do." He gasped out, clutching at his staff. "This is incredibly painful for me."

"I'll hurry." Henna promised, snatching up handfuls of the pretty little flowers and stuffing them into her pockets. "This will make tonight's stop especially interesting for you, wizard." She mentioned happily, grabbing at them with both hands now. "You'll be part of the ghost-talk tonight."

"I can already sort-of see ghosts." The apprentice mentioned, sneaking off another inch or two in his standing march. Henna came hurrying back and re-mounted, letting him resume his march forward. The apprentice sighed in relief as the pain receded. "Ghosts? Listening to a ghost-town tonight doesn't sound like a lot of fun to me." He grumbled.

He wasn't going to mention the only reason he'd been able to see ghosts was the spell Mindy's had put on him to look for traps. She'd included a ghost-warning and made his geas respond to them. Other than that, the wizard got to ignore ghosts.

Henna knew better, thou. Mindy had been very helpful when it came to teaching her how to use the magic she'd put on the wizard, but ghost talk wasn't one of the items she'd included. Most of the ghosts were merely a collection of frustrated, leftover impulses anyway. Soldiers who only wanted to go home, mostly and not very interesting to talk to.

"Ghosts? Oh, they aren't all bad." Henna said happily, doing things with the flowers while riding on his back. "You'll see tonight, wizard. I promise."

***

## chapter 37 ghost town

"I may be obscure, they may be stupid and there's always lots of politics. Vampires are always trying to horn in on the action. It's your choice of why things go wrong."

"Religion is like that." The ghost said quietly. "You day is full of people and you deal with it."

Aaron looked at the small ghost bobbing in front of the two of them in the sod-hut in disbelief. "I think we just found Mindy's teacher." He murmured to Henna the Red, who was enthralled by the people she was meeting here. The dead ones, anyway.

"Hush. He can help us." She answered quickly. "Be polite to these ghosts, apprentice. You might learn something."

Sitting in a sod cave dug in the grass and talking to ghosts was not my idea of fun, but Henna had insisted on it. The smoky turf fire in the small room didn't help any and the flowers she's insisted I eat so I could hear the ghosts had left a funny taste in my mouth.

They did work, they just tasted bad. A handful of flowers after a full day's march was no way to feed anyone, but she wasn't listening to my complaints about that right now either.

We were spending the evening at the bandit camp, which was fortunately deserted at the moment. There was lots of evidence people used these huts on a regular basis, thou. I peered thru the hot smoke at the myriad blurry ghosts floating around us and hoped Mindy's spell for seeing them lasted thru the whole evening.

The flowers Henna had force-fed me so I could hear and talk to the ghosts without going thru her were interfering with the magic Mindy had put on me, now in a serious way. Mindy's spells were eroding and wearing off fast; I was looking forward to that.

I didn't mention any little problems like that to Henna, I was saving it for tomorrow morning when we got out of the ley-lines we were in. I hoped it surprised her.

A wizardly shrug or two and poof, I'd be free from any more of Mindy's compulsion spell. I might cook myself alive kicking free of it, but breaking it would soon be possible and I won't have to obey Henna anymore.

Starting tomorrow, she'd have to walk this route herself and not get carried by me. I was really looking forward to that.

The ghost we were currently listening to was a demon-priest. He's gotten shoved thru the gate for being too smart for his own good back home a long time ago. When the gate had shut down to stop the demon-invasion, he'd gotten slaughtered here with the rest of the troops.

His training and attitude had held over to this, the next world in the next world. This particular ghost spent all his time trying to manage his flock of decaying ghosts now, trying to keep them all happy till they could go home.

Some of the bad ghosts condensed into something like sand, according to him. He gave dire warnings about starting fires in certain areas and the blacksands, fires that would re-energized the lower-energy demons. Good ghosts went to the higher energy levels and evaporated, sort of, according to him.

He did the babysitting of everyone else in the meantime.

Both demon and human ghosts now too, I noticed. I wondered about the scarcity of priests in ghost-world, then decided not to ask about it. It looked like a very murky subject to talk about. On the other hand, this ghost was keen to get the gate reopened so he and his flock could all go home.

"You were a priest? What's that like?" Henna asked the ghost, watching the small blob of light waft around her. Her usual pet ghost was off talking to old friends he had in the camp, gathering information about something.

"Being a priest? Admin, manage and develop, this time of spirit instead of sports or money." The ghost seemed to chuckle. "You help babies, and watch them get seduced into being soldiers for a warlord. Stuff like that. It's frustrating work."

The ghost seemed talkative and willing to help us out. So far, anyway. "Then the services get silly. Helping people? Most people don't develop far. Past getting it licked, (prince, warlord or bandit version), a money, power or fame niche, they tend to do something weird with their time."

"Weird like playing golf. Not prayer and meditation, development and self-improvement." The ghost chuckled, mostly to himself. "You get used to that. Anything norms learn is used to steal money from their neighbors, usually. Especially religion. It helps a lot when that's what your religion recommends you do."

"Still, it's a problem. Like the Genkiss Khan types." He added dryly. "Flakes that sit at the master's feet till they learn something useful, then go out and take over the world with it. That's one of the hazards of helping out in the religion biz."

"Sounds like fun." I said quietly, shuddering. "What can you tell me about the gate? I want to get it open again. Before it kills me." I added carefully. Me dying might not strike a ghost as important.

"He's asking for your blessing in this, brother." Henna added carefully, slamming me in the ribs hard with her elbow. "And any other help we can get here."

"Yes, the usual apprentice geas-curse. He has it and I've seen it before. Well, since you have learned to talk, I suppose I should help any way I can." The ghost mused, seemingly thinking out loud now. "You're a new development around here. The way is open and you will not be denied, right?"

"We know of the way. We want your help, too." Henna insisted. I looked at her absently, wondering just how much Mindy had coached her on this.

Henna wanted the gate open, or me to live thru magicking it for reasons of her own. I began to get some nasty suspicions about her aims. They seemed to involve a live pet wizard and I was the only person available for that job around here.

"Not a lot of help I hope. I didn't know anything about the gate other than it was there." The ghost admitted cheerfully. "I was busy with things other than some obscure applied transport magic."

"Well, you've got girl-ghosts, soldiers, a couple merchants and you here. Demons, too. I'm offering to try and get you back home." I said quietly. "If you can help me, I'll take it."

"Yes, well. Stay in the middle of the road and get run over." The ghost grumbled to himself. "Maybe this good deed won't turn out to be totally disastrous. This time. Maybe."

"They usually do. That's another thing about being a priest." The ghost bobbed about in indecision, grumbling to himself. "You are usually the first and handiest target for whatever vermin you're trying to help. This certainly doesn't look like long term niceness, thou. An open gate? Another six million dead in wars over the blasted thing or I'm a tripe-collector." The ghost stayed floating in the air, muttering to himself. I watched him and his collection of floating friends anxiously.

My whole life depended on what conclusion he came to. His help in getting some demon-magic on my side would make or break my effort to re-open the gate.

"Let me think about this for a while." He finally said. "Excuse me while I go pray for guidance." Then he zipped straight up and disappeared into the night.

I reached forward and snagged a tuber from the fire with a stick, dragging it to my feet to cool. "He's going to ask the gods to fix the gate for us?" I said in disbelief, sniffing the hot tuber. "Well, at least he should be well connected to that sort of stuff now. It might work."

"But this life is a school, so he isn't likely to get any free tutoring in the hard knockings."

One of the other ghosts wandered by, and he seemed a little disgusted with the priest. "Don't get your hopes up. That's no-show Winford. Hasn't done anything useful since he took up vestments." He told us confidentially. "Calls it giving guns to deadly babes, or something like that."

The ghost kept floating on by, still being sarcastic. "The only thing you're likely to learn from him is not to set fires on any blacksand you find. That releases old demons, the grumpy ones. Fire perks the sleepier fellas up again and they make all sorts of trouble trying to horn in on the energy here once they're awake again."

"Trust me on this. We've been watching him for more years than you meat-sacks want to know about." He finished absently. "In the long run he never does anything."

Henna looked a little disappointed with that news. I sighed and started making serious plans for my morning breakout.

***

"So you can still hear and see me, can you wizard?"

Marvin the ghost floated around the apprentice's head trying to talk to him. The wizard's head snapped up, glared balefully at the ghost and grunted at him in an annoyed way. "Yes." Then he returned to staring at the grass going by under his feet.

"That's handy. He saw what he did to the camp this morning, then."

Henna whacked the wizard she was riding hard on the shoulder. "You really shoudn't've tried breaking Mindy's spell while we were still in the camp like that, apprentice." Henna the Red sat in her usual perch, that being on the wizard's back, a little singed and glaring disapprovingly at her companion. She frowned at the back of the apprentice's head as he strode thru the grass carrying her. "I mean, I know the priest refused to help us, but you didn't need to fire up every demon-ghost in the region and sic them on him like that."

Henna could hear the apprentice Aaron growling his frustrations. She smothered her giggles and sniffed disapprovingly. "You don't smell any better for it either." She added carefully. "You're a mix of peat and dung fire and burnt wizard robes today."

"You really need another bath." She added, patting at her own hair.

"My magic exploded, witch." Aaron grumped out, still embarrassed about his latest magical failure. "The ley-lines grabbed the spell carried it to every patch of black sand that'd fallen there over the last thousand years or so. And us." Aaron stomped on over the grass, still annoyed. "Naturally enough, that fired up every sleeping demon they'd collected there. They all woke up and attacked the priest while we tried to get out of the magical fire-storm..."

"I didn't know it would do that." He grumbled on. It had been a very bad start to the day today, and that had capped a frustrating night in the bandit hideout for the wizard. "No one could've guessed that would happen. No-one except maybe a god."

"Getting attacked by every ghost there wasn't on my list of ways to start the day." The apprentice kept walking. His plans had done more than fall apart this morning, they'd exploded in a spectacular fashion. "Carrying you for another day wasn't part of it either."

"The new demons all woke up grumpy, too. There was quite a riot going on when we left." Marvin the ghost chuckled. "A nasty one. I didn't think you could do half the stuff the bandits were trying to do to the other ghosts."

"Bandit ghosts and bandit demons both." Henna corrected Marvin reprovingly. "You left quite the mess roiling in a brisk boil behind us today, wizard. All those ghosts in a food fight as they got brought back to life... in a ghostly sort of way... by your explosions."

Aaron ignored her. He was still smarting from not getting any help from the demon-ghost priest, his wizardry going bad and having to carry Henna out of the bandit camp two steps ahead of some rioting ghosts.

Both good ghosts and bad demons. Everyone had gotten 'enlightened' by his efforts to get out of Mindy's magic, and most of them were fairly annoyed by it.

"And you're still spelled to obey me, too. Slave." Henna added carefully. "Aren't you? Answer me!"

"Yes, mistress." That came out before Aaron could prevent it and you could see it frustrating for the apprentice. "For a while yet." He added darkly. "Mindy's spell won't last forever, you know. The flowers interfere, the ley-lines wear it down and her magic decays all on it's own. I'll be loose soon enough."

"And being a runaway-slave is built right in to you, I know." Henna sighed as they traveled further towards the gate. "You won't be able to prevent your geas from kicking in. But did you have to sic every enemy ghost that priest had defeated in the last thousand years loose on him this morning? I mean, that was unkind."

"I didn't do that on purpose." The apprentice winced. "Almost every demon that ever got stuck on this side of the gate is juiced up and cranky for the next few weeks now, I know, I know. I didn't do it on purpose."

"'Oopsie doesn't actually help much when your magic goes astray like that, Aaron." Henna pulled one of the flowers she'd harvested yesterday out of her pocket and looked at it carefully. It didn't seem any different from the normal flowers, but this year's crop was especially powerful. Aaron was still hearing the ghosts and he shouldn't've been. The flowers usually wore off after an hour or two, not a day or two.

"That is one of the reasons I'm here now, Henna. My old master got tired of my magic exploding and sent me off on this quest, hoping it would kill me." Aaron looked out over to the distant horizon shrugged and kept marching. "Or at least get rid of me in a permanent kind of way."

"I met his new apprentice the morning I got fired." The apprentice said sadly, staring out over the grass in a blank way. "While she was throwing my stuff away to empty my room. She's quite beautiful."

"My brother threatened to have my new husband do that for me once." Henna shuddered. "The husband I'd never met. I told him exactly what to expect if he ever tried it."

"And never want to meet. He says he was offered a good price for me." Henna explained as Aaron turned his head around to stare at her. She looked back at him evenly as the apprentice slowly digested her story. "Money isn't easily come by out in the boonies, apprentice. It'd more likely end up as a live-stock swap, anyway."

Henna watched the mix of expressions cross Aaron's face in amusement and laughed. "You should hear Mindy's story." She said crossly, sniffing her hair and making a face at the smell. "We had it easy. I think she was trying to get out of being a virgin sacrifice to a grumpy god, or something like that."

"Oh." Aaron marched, turned back to watching his feet and marched on, still carrying the tiny witch on his back. "Do you think the demons and ghosts I let loose this morning are going to follow us?" Aaron asked that quietly as he continued his march across the sea of grass. "Or will they stay behind us?"

"Some of them have already past us." Marvin said quietly. "Most of them, actually. They're enroute to check the gate out."

"They'll be hanging around there, trying to make your life miserable. Most of them live on the energy exploding wizards make." Marvin explained. "They've seen lots of you fellows go by. It turns into quite the ghostly event."

"Well, it does. It's a feast for them. Dinner and a show, all for free." Marvin seemed huffy about it as Henna stared at him. "Ghosts come from all over to watch the apprentices blow themselves up trying to magic the gate. Sometimes they even hang around to welcome the new ghost in, too."

"That's nice of them. We have an explosions cheering squad that depends on me blowing myself up there for food now?" Aaron the apprentice sighed and hung his head. "Not going to be a lot of help, are they?" He said bitterly.

"You charged them up, you deal with it wizard." Henna the Red did not seem sympathetic to the wizard's plight. "Would you like to hear the plans I have for selling you to the Harvey the Book dealer in town now?"

"No!" With that, the apprentice fell into a sullen silence.

"He'd not having a good day." Marvin confided to Henna in a mock whisper. "Do we tell him what's at the end of today's march?"

Henna considered the sulky wizard she was riding for a moment. "No, let's not." She whispered back. "It'll be a nice surprise."

"Well, nice compared to the rest of his day." She giggled happily. "Say, Marvin? Is there anything worth harvesting out there? I've almost got enough for another trip into town gathered up and we walk right thru it. Eventually. We can always stop for a moment or two."

"I'll start looking." With that, Marvin the ghost started in on his scouting expeditions and now Aaron knew what he was scouting for.

"More witchcraft plants. Ones designed to keep me enslaved, probably." The apprentice sourly watched Marvin fly off on his scouting mission.

"Or at least well-fed." Henna mentioned quietly. "If we're lucky, he'll find some pain-killer plants for you. We've been watching for them for days now."

"One's that'll let you march in place while I sell my witchery goods off." She added as Aaron started to perk up a little at the thought of pain-killers and what they could do for him. "See, witches are useful sometimes, aren't they?" She asked the wizard. "Not all bad. Now march, apprentice. It's still a long way to tonight's camp."

"This morning was almost as much fun as the regretful little incident when you stepped on a snake." Aaron mused as he staffed his way across the grass. "Just a little less noisy."

Henna pouted and smacked the wizard. "I did not climb up on your shoulders, wizard. I was just trying to get away from something dangerous."

"I know. At least this morning you did not yell 'giddy-up, wizard!'. It was more along the lines of 'move, move, move, move' this time." Aaron seemed filled with a gloomy satisfaction. "Not much of an improvement, but it was there."

"Girls don't like the smell of burnt ghost first thing in the morning." Henna snapped back at him. "Witches especially. Or scorched ley-line. And you were lying there like a lump so I had to say something. Your geas hadn't even kicked in yet."

The arguing continued as the three of them made their slow way across the grasslands.

***

"This was a farming village, Aaron."

The grass I was standing in didn't look a lot different from the plains we'd been marching across all day, except it was on the top of a hill. "Oh." I said, sitting down wearily and letting out an exhausted sigh. "Doesn't look like much. Is there any food left around here?"

"Yes, but it's mostly herbs and spices." Henna was studying the depressions on the hill we were standing on closely. "There is a well under that rock down there. Not anything you can swim in, but at least there's water." She added quietly. "I'm hoping to find something else."

I reached over, pulled a tuber out of the pile Henna had gathered over the day's march and started munching it. It tasted like raw flour, but I was starving. I'd earned a snack, I'd carried the blasted thing all day long.

"You can't even see where the buildings were." I groused, complaining again and biting down hard on the tough root.

"That's because you're sitting down, stupid." Henna replied. "Everything here was made of sod, it returned to earth real fast. The whole settlement got burned out by bandits, wandering armies and bad weather long ago. Repeatedly."

"And buffalo stampedes. Popular spot." I grumbled, still chewing the hard root. "What are you looking for? More food?" I asked hopefully.

"Where the church was. Or the hospital. Or the courtyard. This was a tiny village." Henna replied absently. "Someplace a special garden would've been grown, if they had one here."

"Ha. Try the graveyard." I grumbled out. "Assuming people here just didn't bury Aunt Matilda in the backyard somewhere. That's doing things the easy way."

"Good idea." Henna replied, switching her focus to something else. "You show weird talents sometimes, Aaron."

"Robbing graves in ghost-towns as a hobby. Wonderful things you witches do in your spare time." I added as Henna kept up her intense search of the grasslands surrounding us. "Ask Marvin where they are, Henna. He'll find them a lot faster than you will."

"It's not the graves I'm after. They would've gotten cleaned out a long time ago. Most of them, anyway." Henna-the Red reached around her head and pulled her braid down in front of her, giving it a gently tug. "It's the flowers they would've had on top of the graves."

"They aren't in bloom yet. Green on green is tricky. Found them." She muttered in relief, finally spotting something in the grass. "Marvin! Are you about?"

The faint buzzing in my ears told me Henna's pet ghost was drifting about. I couldn't see or hear them anymore, thanks to Mindy's spell dissolving a little more during the day and the flowers wearing off.

I still couldn't break free of it, but it was falling apart. Slowly, but definitely wearing off.

The odd thing was Henna didn't seem at all disturbed by that. I was not looking that gift over very carefully, just taking advantage of it as much as I could.

Henna set off down the hill in a determined manner, after fixing a few spots firmly in her memory. I collapsed back and watched the clouds in the sky and the sun slowly setting on the horizon.

"You might start setting a camp up. You want to eat, get a fire going." Henna called up to me. I groaned.

"The well isn't even on my track. I groused, more to myself than anyone else. "I can't explore in any direction except south."

With that, I picked up the day's collection of witching plants Henna had dropped beside me and forced myself to make my way to the well.

It was hard going, but I eventually got there. Henna didn't seem at all pleased when she came back and found me still sitting there breathing hard, recovering from the geas-pains moving against the curse had caused.

"A fire, wizard. You might at least start a fire." She chided, her pockets full of green who-knew-what. She seemed very pleased with herself for some odd reason.

Blowing a hole in the earth only took a second. Then I started dumping the smellier of the dried turds we'd collected during the day into it.

Another small spell got the lumps turned into glowing coals, abet with the usual explosion of sparks and smoke my starting a fire always made.

"You have got to learn a little more control." Henna grumped, slapping out the sparks hurriedly as they landed on her clothes. I ignored the ones in my beard, I was used to them by now. "Is all wizardry like this?"

"Just the good stuff." I groaned, collapsing on my back again. "Did you find anything I should know about?" I asked, weaving my fingers together on my chest and closing my eyes again. "Or is this going to be another surprise?"

"It's a surprise. One that takes a couple of days to prepare." Henna said quietly, tossing a few tubers into the fire. "Feed yourself tonight, wizard. I'm going to be busy in the moonlight. And it's moon-rise soon."

"I'll leave you a root." I muttered darkly. Getting dragged around by witches was getting really irritating for me, even if they knew where the food was out in these blasted grasslands. "And a full water-skin. Other than that, goodnight."

"Goodnight, wizard. Don't run off." With that, Henna disappeared back into the grasses, leaving me flat on my back and watching the sunset.

The extra command not to run away was not necessary as I was too tired to move. We'd had to march all day, long after my geas had worn off to get here and I was exhausted. I fell asleep long before Henna got back from whatever she was doing.

***

## chapter 38 townies

The next morning's start was almost a routine by now. Henna woke, got the camp cleaned up quietly, then fell asleep on the wizard's back when he woke up and marched off into the dawn.

They were both tired today, so it was done in almost complete silence, except for the wizard's chewing. He had a cooked root tucked in his robe that he started munching on right after Henna had ordered him to stop long enough for her to climb on, carrying her knap with all their supplies in it. Henna ignored his chewing and after a whispering a warning to Marvin about any streams they had to cross, dozed off again.

Aaron the apprentice had a habit of crossing any water in his path face-down. That was usually fairly uncomfortable for anyone riding his back and sometimes very surprising.

He also disliked having to march almost in place when Marvin told Henna about some particularly nice patch of plants they could harvest. The complaining about that had died away after an offer or two to get the apprentice to travel to the nearer patches instead of waiting for Henna to return from them, or go without any more food.

He didn't know how lucky he was. Henna giggled slightly. Marvin was returning to Henna with reports of treasure, or at least traces of them buried in the grass today.

You learned not to get too excited about those. Most of the times, what a ghost saw as a buried treasure turned out to be a button from a favorite jacket, or the remnants of a long-lost doll. Anything that got highly charged up with emotion by it's old owner ghosts could usually see.

Most treasure just wasn't valuable. Surprisingly enough, not many people charged up their money. They might react to it, but they rarely loved certain coins enough for them to stay visible to a ghost.

Ghosts and demons had been picking over this particular path clean for centuries now anyway. Henna closed her eyes and wondered again just how much good getting this apprentice into the bookseller's shop would do her.

There was no guarantee that anything other than another treadmill would slow the apprentice down any, and no guarantee anyone could break the geas that would force him to try magicking the gate to death.

His death, that is. Aaron won't be much use to her if he couldn't stop screaming, trying to escape or making lots of his explosive magic. Not much help at all at scaring her brother's bandit friends off.

The hours passed quickly as Henna stayed lost in her thoughts.

"You're not going to like this."

Marvin flew by Henna's ear, waking her up again. The apprentice felt her start on his back and did his own wince, shaking her further awake.

"You remember the herb-harvest-by-moonlight thing we did last night?" Marvin asked nervously. "The big, full moon up there?"

"Yes." Henna answered him. She could tell Aaron couldn't hear the ghost anymore by the way he was twitching now. "What about yesterday's herbs?"

"Someone spotted us. Someone detected you. Someone being helped by another ghost, I guess." Marvin went on nervously. You could almost see him looking back over his shoulder, even if he didn't have one anymore. "And now they've decided they want our harvest."

"Bandits are targeting us? Where are they and how many of them are there?" Henna didn't even lift her head from where it was pillowed on Aaron's shoulder. Bandits were something she'd had to live with every day of her life. She wasn't going to get upset about them now.

"It looks like some kids from town. Kids that the bookseller might send out." Marvin grumbled on. "Not a real serious threat, but these ones are a little different."

"Different? How so?" Henna asked grumpily. She started mentally going thru the herbs in her knap to see what kind of defences she could make. Years of dealing with surprise visits in the bandit camp made her sure she could deal with this without even getting off the wizard's back. "Other than having a sensible ghost with them."

She could feel Aaron listening intently to her half of the conversation. "They're over-dosed. On at least three kinds of plants." Marvin answered quickly. "It made them into IOUs. I-i-i, O-O-O and UUU types. Very dangerous IOUs, too."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Henna asked Marvin blearily. "Aaron, there are kids out there who want to attack us. See if you can spot them, would you? Or at least start ducking any stray arrows coming at us." She added that as the apprentice stopped looking around the grass at his feet and nervously looked over the knee-high grass sea he was wading thru. "I'll try and find out some more about them."

"Dandy." Aaron sighed and started scanning the horizon hard. "There's nothing to be seen." He reported. "But I'll assume we'll walk right into them."

"No, so far they've seen us and are trying to get brave about attacking us. They just want to pillage right now." Henna corrected him. "They're coming up from behind us. I think. Um, you might pick out a place that we can defend ourselves." She added. "Or at least try to."

"Swell. The only place we could hide is that hill way over there and I'd scream every step of the way there." Aaron complained, his neck snapping as he looked for a hiding spot. "That'd be noisy and sort of a dead give-away for our position. Running won't do us any good?"

"Not really." Henna blinked as she thought of something. "Be quiet while I think, wizard. We have to get out of this. Marvin, what do you mean by IOUs?"

"OK. IOUs. i-i-i. Immortal, invulnerable and invincible." Marvin seemed to be ticking things off on his imaginary fingers. "O-O-O. Out-of-order. Well, omniscient, Omani-cognizant and omnipotent. And U-U-U, the multidimensional types."

"So I can't remember the last one. You know any gods? Not seen around here very often." Marvin groused as Henna stared at him. "This is a low-life backwater to those U-guys. The point is, they all add up to IOU."

"The three plants Harvey doused them with?" Henna mentioned quickly. "They're taking their toll on the kids?"

"Not that you'd notice. Yet." Marvin answered back quickly. "They're young, spastic, impulsive and fast. Two of them. Very resilient, all energy and elastic. But the thought of rowdy natives, bandits or Witch's mountain being their destination doesn't seem to scare them at all."

"And running all the way there seems to crop up in their conversions a lot. This time next week, you couldn't wake them with a volcano, but today?"

"Myself, I'm worried about their ghost." Marvin sighed as he bobbed along beside her. "He seems to one of the bandit-ghosts we woke this morning. He won't have any peaceful intentions."

"He also likes to brag a lot. In ghost-world it's all evil demonic chuckles over that way now." Marvin gestured behind the traveling pair. "And they're gaining on us fast. If I hadn't gone high scouting for plants, I wouldn't've noticed them at all."

"The kids got doused with flowers, too. Great." Henna sighed. "Ghost-talkers. So we're about to get attacked by drugged berserker kids being egged on by a bad-tempered demon-ghost they think is a friend?"

"Bandit-ghost. He's a local. And only a couple of kids." Marvin corrected. "Very hungry ones."

Henna blinked in puzzlement at that and Marvin chuckled.

"They ate all the food they had with them in the first couple of days." He said. "They had the munchies, and it seems neither of them has ever had food to spare before. Also, the drugs make them burn a lot of energy"

"Ah. Desperate, hungry, drugged-up berserkers. I was wondering when the day would start getting interesting." Henna sighed and had a thought. "Do we walk into them or do they try to run us down?"

"They run us down." Marvin said quietly. "It took a couple hours for the ghost to get them interested in us. They're backtracking, following your trail."

"The kids attacking us are coming from behind, Aaron." Henna squealed and grabbed on hard as Aaron promptly spun on the spot and started walking backwards as he nervously scanned the grasslands behind him.

"Relax a little. Let me get a few things ready." Henna said absently, as she de-clawed her way from the wizard's shoulders and tried to settle back down. "You watch ahead of us. I'll get something ready for the bandits."

"Yes, dear." Aaron spun again, then picked up his pace as he trudged thru the grass. "I'd like to know when we get attacked, if you don't mind. I'm not totally helpless, you know."

"Yeah, but these are kids on a harvest-mission. No need to hurt them at all." Henna pulled her bag towards her and started rummaging thru it. "Not with what I can do. I have a plan."

"Swell. I already don't like the sounds of this." Aaron said nervously. "Why do I think you're about to try something silly?"

"Because I am." Henna said quickly. "Listen, this is what we're going to do..."

***

## chapter 39 leave them laughing

"But that's my lunch!" I peeped quickly and watched the witch riding on my back do her business over my shoulder. I also took a quick look for any bandits coming up out of the grass behind us, but didn't see any. Henna was busy prepping a root by dripping especially pungent oil on it.

It smelt great and I was still really hungry.

"Down, boy." She snapped as my stomach started to growl. "You won't want to eat this." Henna waited till she got a report back from her pet ghost, then dropped the root behind her on the ground. I whimpered a little. Food had been scarce out here in the grasslands and throwing it away hurt.

"Better hope those bandits behind us have learned how to share." I grumbled, pulling my eyes back to the grass in front of me. "It doesn't sound likely, be they ghetto or hungry bandit kids."

"Don't worry about it. The leader is always in the rear, but not by much. He's usually bigger, heavier, lazy and if he's smart, doesn't like walking into traps. He'll take the root away from whoever finds it. After the finder has a bite or two first, hopefully."

Henna sounded confident. I hoped the kids following us were at least as smart as the bandits she usually dealt with.

That sounded iffy. Smart townies weren't usually woodsmen or bandit types, they were townies. Pickpockets, thieves and scam artists.

"I hope so, Henna. What else do you have in mind?" Waiting for the witch to answer me was a nerve-wracking experience. It took far too long. "You're going to want me to do something weird, aren't you?" I asked nervously. "And it won't be something easy like blasting them."

"Probably." The witch on my back sighed. "Listen, wizard. I can't just blast these kids. There aren't enough people in that town for me to kill anyone. My market for witchery would shrink too much."

"If I hurt them and they got back to town, their friends and relatives would come after me en-mass. I make most of my sales because of feuds there, there did you know that? Half the town won't deal with the other half because of various politics. I slip into those cracks and make a living there."

"Great. They've being saved for future bug-juice sales even while they try to kill us." I groaned. "Is there anything else I should know about this?"

"Well, there's gonna be a food-fight behind us in a few minutes." Henna said quietly. "Or at least I hope so. They're a lot closer than you think."

"You could be a little quieter, too." She added, leaning forward to whisper in my ear. "It's bad enough they have a ghost tracking us, with your complaining they only have to listen hard to find us."

I sped up as much as I could, which wasn't a whole lot considering I was still carrying Henna. "Maybe we both could run?" I gasped out, getting winded faster than I thought possible. "We'd get away faster."

"I want to see if they take the bait first." Henna grumbled. "Oh, and relax. Mindy told me a spell to use on you if we ever really needed to get away from something fast. It'll just be a little hard on you, that's all."

"Why didn't I guess that? No blasting." I grumbled. Then a fracas broke out in the grass behind us, a noisy yelling one that sounded like two teens fighting over something.

"They took the bait, we can run now. Wizard, move out!" Henna whispered to me. She hopped off my back and started running alongside me. "Start lifting those feet!"

I didn't have any choice in what I did. All of a sudden I started to get re-energized and started running fast. I also grabbed holding Henna's hand and started dragging her with me. She fell a little behind and giggled as I sped up, still dragging her.

"How long does this last?" I gasped out, watching my feet in amazement. I didn't think there was anything that could make me move this fast anymore. After a few weeks as a traveling wizard, I guess I was in better shape than I thought. My sprint lasted for long minutes.

Then my geas ran out and I almost collapsed in the grass, going from full-speed wind-sprint (dragging a witch) to face-down exhaustion in the space of a breath. Totally burn out. Henna ran right over top of me, unable to stop. I got one small foot planted right in the middle of my back as she trampled me into the mud coming to a stop.

"Well, I hadn't planned on this part." Henna grumbled as she got turned around. "Blast. This isn't safe. We should be further away."

All I could see were her ankles as she stood in front of me, then more ankle and boots as she dove into the grass beside me. The grass was long enough it made a nice cozy cave for us as Henna snuggled down beside me. "Lie low, wizard. We might get out of this yet." she whispered to me softly.

I was busy watching a haze of lights disappear from in from of my eyes and ignored her. If blasting the kids became necessary today, it's take a while for me to work up the energy to do it.

Even lifting an arm was out of the question at the moment.

"If we're lucky, they only want to rob us." I hissed out, gasping the words out separately. "Call me if anything else turns up, but not until then."

"I'm not giving up anything I have with me, I worked way too hard to get it. That includes you, wizard. The kids are taken care of now. Know any good ghost-spells?" Henna asked in a quiet whisper. She lying down and digging around in her pack again. "Their ghost is telling them way too much about us."

"Hitting him with more energy will make him way too powerful to bother with us." I grunted out, trying hard to lift an arm. I still didn't have the energy for it thou, so I quit that and rested some more. "I should energize him. He might try blasting us, or turning us into toads, but a few seconds of power he won't be bothered with the kids anymore. Or anything else around here, really."

"You've never gotten over-powered." I snapped at her as Henna stared at me in disbelief. "Power is wonderful. Lots of power is incredible. Everything but how you feel becomes trivial, and you feel like a drunken god. Every wizard's apprentice learns to discipline that impulse."

"Or you go out with a big boom, really fast." I added as she stayed staring at me, her eyes big. "Over-charged explosion. Standard apprentice test in magic. You also need to learn how to control power, and fast. Some apprentices get addicted and try to stay charged up. It's a wonderful feeling. Most of those apprentices burn out in a few weeks."

"Or days. A wizard that's been doing a lot of wizardry sometimes gets that way, too." I mused, trying to remember the rudiments of being wizard-like. It was an effort as they were lessons buried so deep I hardly remembered them anymore. "It's why wizards avoid wars. You learn what your limits are the hard way there. And sometimes you have no choice."

I kept my face in the grass and groaned, blinking away the last of the lights in front of me. "Why do you think front-row seats for exploding wizards are so popular with ghosts?" I grumbled out. "It all depends on what this ghost is. If he's had any magical training, or is a demon-ghost..."

"Then powering him up would make more trouble than it's worth." Henna stayed silent and listened to her ghost for a few seconds. "It's a bandit-ghost. A local, no magic at all. I think." She finally said. "And the kids took the bait, thank goodness. Two minutes from now, we won't be having any more trouble except from the ghost."

"You put pepper-oil on the root? Why don't I hear them screaming?" I asked, rolling over with a tremendous effort. I laid there gasping for breath for a while. "And if they are still moving, I want some of whatever you gave them. I couldn't swat a fly right now."

"It was something in the way of a sleep potion." Henna said carefully. "With extra purple elephants added in. They're both probably sitting there eating right now. Then they start watching the grass grow and probably still be doing that tomorrow morning."

"Then they'll run screaming for water." Henna added absently. "This oil dries you right out, for some odd reason."

***

## chapter 40 fried demon-bandit

"About this bandit-ghost."

Aaron the apprentice was staying face-down in the grass again, resting from his magically-forced little sprint. Marvin had checked him out and said except for exhaustion and being stupid, there wasn't much wrong with him.

Henna did not like the apprentice's plan of over-powering the ghost, thou. Making a ghost explode sounded far too dangerous to her.

She suspected Aaron just liked blasting things.

"He's still trying to get the kids back there interested in following us. It may take him a while." Henna told the twitching wizard. "He spent hours getting them after us; right now they're probably sitting around giggling at him."

"Then he'll come after us again. Mostly to get you blast him, I think. Free food and all that." She added, glaring at the wizard.

The wizard groaned at the thought of doing anything else today, but sounded a little more life-like. He was slowly recovering from the run.

"We can't ignore him. Too many people would love to know who, what we are and what we have; I don't want to fight my way back from here if he decides to blab to anyone else about us." Henna told that to the back of the apprentice's head. It didn't respond much.

"To get enough energy into this ghost to destroy him, I'll need to trap him. Hold him still for a few seconds and pump lots energy into him." Aaron mentioned, still face down in the grass and ignoring her objections. "Other than that it'll be a snowball fight and he can fly, duck and weave around. Mostly wasted effort on my part, and as you say, he might like it anyway."

Aaron seemed a little pensive. "You do hit ghosts with a fairly low type of energy, actually. The higher stuff might hurt him and drive him away, but there's no real good way of telling what'll happen to him with that stuff." The wizard continued lecturing on in a mumbling tone. "For instance, he might evolve into a higher being... one with all his low-level drives still operating."

"That would not be fun. We don't want to fight someone even vaguely godlike but hungry today." The apprentice finished. His face fell back in the grass and he rested some more. "Trap him first, then blast him with lots of low energy. Good idea."

"If we could trap ghosts I won't need your help." Henna the Red sat in the long grass beside the wizard and slowly started re-packing her knapsack. "Or block them. That'd do, too."

"Here's a root, wizard. Eat slowly, I didn't find many last night." She handed him the last of their food, or at least put it front of his face and shook it a little. "Save me a bite, please." One arm snaked up and grabbed at the food, stuffing it into his mouth hurriedly.

The apprentice's face hardly rose off the grass, but he got the food into it. "Yah. You said something about getting moon-drenched somethings-or-others last night instead of more food." Aaron sighed blissfully as he crunched into the root and swallowed. "Whatever it is you got, I hope it was worth the trouble it made."

"Oh, it'll come in handy sometime or other." Henna told the eating wizard. "But not anytime soon. They're herbs for childbirth." She added absently. "Rare ones, good for controlling bleeding and a few other things."

"Yerk. Not for you, I hope. I did a birthing out here once already, I don't need to try that again. Right now, we need a way to make that rotten ghost hold still." Aaron continued on with his mouth full, after another weary crunching bite. "Ask your pet ghost if there's anything that'll do that. I won't get enough power into the flying pest with one shot otherwise."

"There's the problem. We don't want him any more powerful. Maybe I should douse you with flowers again so the two of you can talk." Henna said quietly, looking over the grasslands. "That's risky, but easy. Too much of this flower-oil and you'll be seeing ghosts permanently, did you know that?"

"And hearing them. Ghosts, that is." She added as the wizard raised his head enough to get one bleary eye on her. "Think harder, Aaron. Is there a wizardly way to hide from ghosts instead? Anything easy we can do?"

"Energy is energy. He lives there. Wait for him to settle back down, charge him up till his impulses tear him apart, block him somehow or hide. That's all I know about handling ghosts." Aaron grumbled that more into the grass under his face than to Henna. "Ghosts weren't much on my old master's list of things to muck with. Not many of them where I lived."

Henna did not like that and she frowned at the exhausted wizard. "Well, right now we should get some distance between us and the kids. Their ghost is busy nagging them right now." She heaved herself to her feet and pulled the wizard up from the grass. "We can always try hiding. Come on, Aaron. We have to get traveling."

"Towards food, please. Or shelter. Or the nearest ghost-trap, if anyone has one here." The wizard groaned as he slowly got up and the two started walking thru the grass again. "There has to be something that traps ghosts." He muttered mostly to himself. "Or blocks them. Any decent village would've had one, there's too blasted many of the things around here for anything else."

Henna took the wizard's arm and started pushing towards his goal, the still-distant gate. The wizard started walking that way automatically. "Marvin says if there are any traps, they're very good. He hasn't heard of any ghost around here ever getting out of one."

"And I've never been asked for one in town." Henna frowned a little, thinking hard. "Maybe they're so common no one even thinks of them anymore. Like Mindy says, 'Necessary, easy, fun. Simple, convenient, reliable. The six steps to being an invisible support."

Aaron groaned again and sniffed in disgust. "I've heard that before. Finish it, witch."

Henna looked at the wizard curiously. "Cheap, safe and legal. The extra mile. That's what wizards get taught." Aaron winced and rubbed his neck. "I know the drill. Witches think six, wizards get the big nine."

"We're going to make an example out of you." Aaron explained carefully. "The big nine words. It's what you get for making mistakes in wizardry."

Henna winced, then reached for her pack and after digging around for a moment, determinedly handed the apprentice a wilted flower-top. Mindy hadn't mentioned the last three to her and they did sound useful. "You better talk to him. Marvin, that is. If there are any traps around here, it's going to take the two of you to find one we can use."

"There is a need for them, there should be one. If I wanted to set up a ghost-trap, where would I do it? Ah, dessert. Thanks. Sort of." Aaron the apprentice passed the gnawed remains of the root back to Henna and tried to think as he stumbled along in the grass, slowly chewing a flower-top.

"More flowers. Here's hoping I don't become a witch too, right? So. A ghost trap. Bedroom windows? No, they're hidden and a ghost trapped in a window would scream loud enough to wake the dead. Graveyards, nope..."

"Think to yourself. I'll ask Marvin to check in on you and see when the flower-top kicks in. The two of you get something going soon please, that demon-ghost will be back to bother us again soon." Henna ducked the wizard's staff as he planted it firmly into the grass and took another step forward, already looking fairly abstracted as he thought.

"Risky, brutal and treacherous. The three things a wizard's magic isn't supposed to be." Aaron sighed, mumbling quietly to himself. "Well, delicate, complicated and expensive are bad too. Blast. How do I stop this little pest?"

"Hiding is all we've got so far. Move those poor tired feet faster, wizard." Henna perked a little grin up at him. "If you're good, I'll be nice to you after supper. How's that for motivation?"

"A lot better than saying I've been bad and you'll have to punish me for it. Or that you've been rotten and I'd have to punish you." Aaron added after a second or two's thought. "Blast it, Henna! Stop distracting me, I need to think about this."

"OK." With that, Henna stayed silent and marched quietly beside the wizard, ducking his thumping staff.

After a few moments, the wizard was concentrating so hard he didn't even notice her mysterious little side trips into the grasslands surrounding them.

***

## chapter 41 forced run

"There isn't anything out here like a ghost-trap, you'll have to invent one." Marvin the ghost regarded the wizard's apprentice sourly. "And we don't have time for that. I should know, I was a wizard before the gate killed me. A wizard with a witch girlfriend; and I've spent a couple hundred years wandering around out here."

"There's no such thing as a ghost-trap." Marvin finished firmly. "Give it up and move on to something we can use."

"You were an apprentice who got killed trying to magic the gate back open. Like me." Aaron answered the hovering ball of light. "And I have two witch girlfriends... Only one of which is here." He added carefully as Henna aimed a vicious swipe at him.

"But I have hundreds of years as a ghost and I'm telling you there isn't any such thing as a working ghost-trap." Marvin answered Aaron waspishly. "High frequency places like churches are kinda painful sometimes and that's about it. Even then, you can put up with it for a good long while before it gets too uncomfortable to stay there."

"OK, there's no such thing as a ghost trap." Aaron sighed, unhappy. "Can you hold him down while I blast him, then?" He asked the bobbing ghost hopefully. "Just hold him still for a few seconds."

"Yeah, right. Like I'm going to latch onto this barbarian while you pump energy into us. I'd get dosed right along with him, even if you did manage to hit him instead of me." Marvin sounded disgusted. "That isn't going to happen, wizard-apprentice. Keep thinking. Think harder. Lots harder."

"Boys! Play nice." Henna sounded like a girl who had two thugs fighting over her right then. "Hiding is all we got and you two shouting at each other isn't helping."

My conversations with Henna's pet ghost weren't going well. Now that we had the time to talk, I found out all about his little problems with zombie-accountants, or whatever political fracas had had him gated for being a snoop.

His problems didn't sound at all like my unfocused energy.

My problem as an apprentice was I hadn't found out what I was good at yet; my magical energy kept spilling over into things. It made casting almost any kind of wizardry fairly random, as you never knew what was going to get charged up.

Mostly my magic just exploded. You learned to deal with that, but Marvin seemed more than a little disgusted with my lack of control.

"The acquisition of power and the pursuit of enlightenment. Not pursuit of power and acquisition of enlightenment." He'd mentioned as soon as we'd gotten talking and found out about my power leaks. "Basic wizard-lessons there. You need enlightenment, not more power."

"I know, I know. You spend much time talking to woodcutters?" I'd asked him sourly. "It sure sounds like it to me."

"No. Not many of them know a wizard's trade secrets, or even want to." Marvin had bobbed over to Henna again and spent some time whispering in her ear. "I vote for the standing stones tonight. They're all we've got."

"Me too." Henna piped up. I groaned. The standing stones were relics from past times, a circle of stones on a near-by hilltop that still retained some magical energy.

They were apparently popular with witches looking for gardens. As a wizard, I tended to avoid anything that did things I didn't set in motion myself. Old magic usually did things I wasn't prepared to have happen.

The stones were also a long, painful walk in the wrong direction for me, too. I was not enthused about going there for the night, no matter how powerful the ley-lines were up there.

The other two were convinced the stones and ley-lines up there would provide cover from ghosts for us, as long as we didn't do any magic. I was dubious, as ghosts, witches and wizards were almost by definition magical.

"Maybe you can stun him up there." Marvin told me quietly. "Force him to fly along the ley-lines, that kind of thing. If this ghost finds us again."

"And enclose our whole camp in another ball of energy? No thanks." I shuddered. The last time I'd tried any wizardry around ley-lines, I'd almost burnt a whole underground village down. I was not anxious to try that again.

And if you think burning an underground village down sounds difficult, try standing in the middle of it while one burns. It's not an experience you want to repeat anytime soon.

"We're going to the ley-lines. If nothing else we can see what's approaching us a lot better from up there." Henna decided. "Will you walk or would you prefer to be ordered to march, wizard?"

"Grabbing the high ground also means we're easily seen, attacked and trapped." I grumbled out. "Basic tactics. Know yourself, the terrain and your enemy."

Henna was a study in ignoring what she didn't want to hear. Marvin was helping her, so I surrendered as gracefully as I could.

"Try ordering me to run." I added absently, already wincing at the thought. "Maybe getting this over with fast will be easier than..."

"Run to that hilltop and start a fire for us up there, wizard. Now." Henna said quietly, ignoring whatever I was trying to say.

I leaped up and started off in a sprint I didn't know I had in me, disappearing into the grass towards the hill at top speed. Going against my geas hurt so much I couldn't even scream.

I blacked out from the pain about six steps into the run and did the rest of the run on automatic. Waking up on the hilltop with my robes still smoldering was a nasty surprise, but not as nasty a surprise as the water-skin a concerned Henna was pouring on me.

I don't remember making the fire, but a contrite Henna told me I'd lit up the skies for miles around with a magical blast starting one. While howling like a banshee, apparently. The same fire that had singed my beard and set my robe smoldering.

Plus, even in daylight, everyone looking up knew where we were again. The ley-lines had flared for miles around when I'd sparked the fire going.

***

## chapter 42 a defensive trap

"It may have been a mistake to send you up here by yourself." Henna mentioned quietly as she wandered around putting various small fires in the stone circle out. "You seem to've attracted a lot of attention to us."

"I am not going anywhere else today." Aaron the wizard's apprentice looked at his tattered robe sadly and groaned as he fingered the new holes his latest attempt at wizardry had burnt in it. He was still lying on his back in the middle of the large ring of standing stones, beside a small fire and surrounded by what looked like a witch's garden of weird plants. "And it's going to be cold up here tonight, isn't it?" He groused, waving the tattered robe carefully and spreading the smoke. "At least for me it will be."

His gown looked like it was about to fall apart. Magical explosions every few days were getting to be very hard on it.

"Take that wretched robe off and I'll fix it for you, whiner." Henna sat down by the fire and started humming a little. "I'll try to patch a few of the bigger holes in it. Seam a few rips up, that sort of thing. I told you I was sorry about ordering the fire, didn't I? No-one seems to be invading us at the moment, so relax. I think the ley-lines are hiding us from any demon-ghosts out there."

"You'd think that a free energy blast like that would've got them running here, too." Marvin mentioned absently from where he was bobbing around, cataloguing the plants infesting the ring for Henna. "I wonder if ley-line energy is different from exploding-wizard energy, or any weird mix of the two. Everyone seems to be avoiding us."

"Well, most of the ghosts did run away screaming this morning." Henna happily agreed. "That ones that didn't run attacked the priest. Maybe ley-line energy is pure or high energy or something." Henna looked around the grass-scape surrounding the hill happily. "No one is bothering us, anyway."

The wizard stayed lying on the ground and twitching a little, still leaking smoke here and there from his robe. He seemed happy at the thought of being ignored by something today. Henna blushed a little.

"Now take your robe off, wizard." Henna pouted and started rummaging thru her pack for suitable materials to patch the abused cloth with. "I can't sew it with you still in it."

"Fine. Blasted to start the day, walk all day carrying a witch, get blasted again, then have to sit naked on the cold ground for a while. The life of a wizard, that's the life for me."

Aaron pulled his robe off and hurriedly sat down by the fire, pulling a blanket Henna handed him around his shoulders miserably. He was already starting to shiver.

"Anything to eat around here?" Aaron asked quickly, trying to get as much of himself under the small blanket as possible. "Or is that too much to expect?"

"Oh, there's lots to eat around here." Henna answered him calmly, looking around the hilltop as she started to patch and sew his robe with s small flashing needle. "But you won't like what the plants here do to you."

"Magical area, magical plants." Marvin nodded agreement with the witch, still bobbing around the small area surrounded by the stones. He had been inspecting plants since they got up here and was still fascinated by them. "This hilltop is covered in interesting things, wizard."

"It's a gold mine. Most of the plants will do very interesting things to you, too." he added in a careful tone. "See the moss on that big stone over there? The fluffy green stuff? Don't sniff the flowers on it for very long or you'll end up happily walking into the fire."

"Again. And not notice." Henna added as she rapidly stitched patches on the robe and some of the larger rips together. "In small doses, it's one of pain-killers I mentioned we might find out here."

"Your pain-killers just distract you from the pain?" The apprentice said suspiciously, eyeing the moss like it might sudden leap up and attack him. "What else is up here? What will this stuff do?"

Aaron pulled up a small red weed from beside him and looked at it carefully. Henna twitched absently as she sewed and glanced at the plant.

"Don't get the sap from that one on you. Too big a dose of it and you might try to fly home." She said, unperturbed. "Something like that. One or two drips and you'll just giggle at the clouds and stars. Five and you'll start getting very adventurous about fire-walking, riding moonbeams and otherwise floating around."

Aaron dropped the weed hurriedly, after looking at the fire for a moment. "Nice. Anything else around here something I shouldn't eat, smoke, wear as a paste or smell?" he grumbled out, glaring around at the plants that surrounded him suspiciously.

The apprentice was very grumpy about something and Henna grinned. She could already see that he was upset about being naked and helpless in a witch's garden; and that all his other reflexes were in good working order.

"Avoid what up here? Almost everything." Henna replied, after looking around for a few seconds. "The green sticks you put in the firepit are a marital aid, for instance."

"Relax, that's one of the ones you have to eat, not burn." She added as the apprentice winced away from the briskly burning fire and the smoke it was leaking all over the camp. "The bark, anyway. And so are the ones you're sitting on, in fact."

"And I thought I was just being healthy." The apprentice scooted over a bit and looked suspiciously at the small green area he's been sitting on in the center of the ring of stones around him. The ring was filled to bursting with strange weeds and flowering plants. "Is there anywhere here safe to sit here?" he asked absently, wiping sweat off his chest now.

"Not really. The grass over there is good for morning-sickness, if that helps any. The yellow bushes with thorns. They might be considered safe for you." Henna moved to a new hole in the robe and started stitching again. "If you don't mind thorns. Most of the wood sticks you put on the fire are healers. Supposed to energize you. Stay out of the smoke, if you can, or you might end up wanting to dance the night away."

"A little late for that." The apprentice coughed and ducked the wandering smoke from the fire again, looking around the garden they were camping in with watering eyes. "I've been breathing since I got up here. It's a habit of mine."

"And I think it's working." He mentioned carefully, twisting his head a little. "The smoke part of this place, anyway. It's getting really warm up here now."

"I know." Henna hummed some more while she worked. "Me too. There's also a few birth-control plants, a few for controlling bleeding and a few cleaners." she added, trying not to notice she was starting to breath a lot harder now too. "There's lots of really great stuff up here."

"You know, this might note's been the best place to start a fire." She added, wiping some sweat from her brow. "Or stay in, really. I'm getting warm too."

"Was there anything under the sticks you set fire to?"

"Oh, lord." Marvin said that quickly as he zipped over and took a closer look at what was burning in the fire. "Henna, there's Upwood in the fire. A big root down there."

"Henna giggled and started staring at Aaron in an interested way. Aaron looked right back at her. "Oops." she whispered. "Upwood. Very disturbing plant."

The ghost sighed and bobbed up and down in the smoke for a few seconds and groaned. "A fresh one, and it's spring. Lots of sap and you've both been getting dosed with the smoke for the last ten minutes." Then he rose up and looked at the human party regretfully. "I think I'll go look for some more food. Get out there and watch for bandits, that kind of thing. I might be back by morning, Henna."

With that, the ghost flew out of the ring of stones and disappeared.

"Fine." Henna husked, squirming a little. Then she blushed. "Now, wizard. Come here. Let me fit this robe to you." She blushed harder as she said that. Aaron was obviously getting very uncomfortable under the blanket, too.

Marvin was long gone before the wizard could even stand up, hunched over.

"You know, it's a good thing you're in my path." He grumbled as he tried to move and wear the blanket at the same time. "Otherwise, this could get painful."

"Yes, painful." Henna looked at the wizard, gulped a few times and laid the robe out on the grass carefully. She wiped some sweat from her neck and gazed up at the wizard from her kneeling position. "Being light-headed and giddy are the usual effects from this Upwood smoke. And warm and dizzy. We'll have to avoid that. Come here and lie down, wizard."Helms

"Then we'll see what we can do about your pains." She added absently as she started loosening her clothes. "Goodness, it is getting warm up here, isn't it? Very hot."

"Yes. Very hot." Aaron hobbled over to the witch, still bent over and gratefully laid down on the robe. Henna giggled, then bent over him and looked down into his eyes.

"Tell me where it hurts, wizard." She husked at him as he squirmed, still clutching his blanket protectively. She put her hand on his chest. " I might be able to help."

"Here?" She asked, reaching for a burn mark and touched it gently. Aaron yelped as she did. "I do have some ointment." She added. "Very soothing. Wait right here, I'll get it."

"Wait." The wizard grabbed Henna's hand as she slowly withdrew it. " There's something we have to take care of first."

"Oh, good." Henna sighed as the wizard pulled her down on him, then smiled at him in a triumphant sort of way. "I like taking care of things. It might make a while, wizard. You built a big fire."

"A couple of them." Aaron said as Henna straddled him and started peeling her clothes off. "Take your time, witch. Take your time."

***

## chapter 43 ducking demons

"If you didn't get any sleep, it's all your own fault, apprentice. You built the fire there last night."

The witch riding on my back had no sympathy for me at all on today's march. I trudged across the green grass, still wet with dew and grumbled about how unfair life had been to me recently.

There was nothing nice from my hitchhiker, she just walloped my shoulder with one hand then snuggled into my back for a little more napping. "I was up hours before you, harvesting things and making breakfast." She grumbled sleepily. "The breakfast you're eating as we speak, in fact."

I swallowed the last of whatever weird bulb Henna had sworn to me was not only harmless but nutritious and healthy a few minutes ago and tried not to think about how wet my feet were getting. The morning sun hadn't dried anything out yet, and, as usual, I'd started the day's geas march while still trying to get dressed.

The witch riding me had giggled a lot at that, then ordered me to stop struggling so she could mount up. I'd woken the rest of the way up trotting and sliding down the dew-slick hill with the standing stones on the top them, munching some sort of weird pancake Henna had made over the coals of last night's fire.

I did remember adding more wood to that fire at some point last night. It'd gotten chilly in the breeze up there. The results of my blind tossing of unknown woods on the fire had been even less sleep for us both.

There'd been no more teasing about me standing on a hilltop yesterday, staff over my head, howling like a banshee and tossing enough power into the ley-lines yesterday to light up the whole sky. Henna and Marvin had mentioned last night how impressive the display had been. No one needed to know I was merely trying to magic up a fire in the middle of some uncooperative ley-lines. The ley-lines had attracted and sucked up every spark of power I made.

Starting a fire meant making a fireball big enough for me to stand in. It wasn't an attempt to scare off our enemies. Standing in a fireball had turned out to be a bit of a mistake, even if it's finally lit the fire for me. Everyone after us had avoided the hilltop last night after that. It'd done some good.

Henna was the one who'd ordered me to make a fire made up there anyway. The magical volcano I'd accidentally triggered trying to start one... with me in the middle of the fire-storm...again... had made our night fairly peaceful, not the center of whatever-was-out-there's attention.

There had been little sleep last night for various other reasons, Henna leading that pack. No sleep. My grunts today were not particularly happy, or even coherent yet. Marvin, or what little I could sense of her pet ghost, was zipping around us again, keeping Henna informed about something.

Something she wasn't bothering to tell me about, and I couldn't see or hear him anymore. The flower-oil I'd gotten doused with had worn off during the night.

At least the bandit-ghost that'd been bothering us was gone. Henna had mentioned that. The kid bandits attempting to liberate her goods had returned to their herb-quest instead of trying to track us down and rob us this morning too. They were both heading back towards Witch's mountain. I wondered briefly if Mindy was recruiting troops yet, then decided not to worry about it.

If the kids even got that far, they'd have to survive all the traps on the mountain. If they could do that, getting out of any recruiting effort by Mindy would be easy.

If she let them live, that is. After robbing them blind. Mindy was like that.

As usual, my main objective for the day was to step on as few snakes as possible while carrying my new witch-owner across the grassland quickly. I had to walk the full fifteen klicks with her on my back, then eat and sleep as much as possible before I had to do it all again tomorrow.

One of my problems was Henna was treating this whole expedition like a massive shopping trip; and I was the caravan pack-animal carrying stuff home for her. She had stuffed her knap with all sorts of weird plants she assured me were valuable, rare, powerful or just plain cute enough to be worth collecting and there was nothing trivial about her demands for me to stop while she dug something else up and added it to the festering pile in her knap.

All I knew was her knap was getting heavier every day and only she knew what was in there anymore.

Marvin had confessed last night that even with the tutoring his witch-girlfriend had given him several centuries ago, whatever Henna had learned from the witch of the mountain and Mindy had put her in a class by herself.

Henna seemed happy that several items in her collection were fermenting, or at least smelled like it. The various smells wafting out of her knap didn't seem to bother her as much as they did me, anyway.

My only hope was that the smell was scaring bandits away. I'd already had enough of them on this journey. My biggest regret was the town was still two days away and that I'd probably collapse from the sheer effort of carrying both the witch and her herbs long before we got there.

Henna was not listening to any of that. Apparently this walk-about was going to make her rich and she wasn't giving up a single leaf of her trove to make my day any lighter.

I really wanted my boots back walking this grass, but Mindy had taken them long ago. My staff did double-duty as a snake-scarer and life-support for me, as by the end of the day's march I was usually exhausted and my staff was the only thing left holding me up.

My usual luck was there, too. We'd come down the wrong side of the mountain, then Henna had forced me into a path that ran her way, a way that had every stinking rare plant in the world on it from the way she was gathering things.

She claimed she needed an escort out here for protection on these rare collecting trips anyway, something her bandit-brother was reluctant to provide and as her temporary slave, I was her guard and carrier whether I liked it or not.

That won't last a whole lot longer. I could feel the spells Mindy had put on me breaking up. Slowly, but they were leaking power and soon enough I'd be able to ignore Henna's arbitrary orders to stop, go over there and dig, carry her and build fires.

Getting to the gate would also remove Mindy's spells, but Henna had suggested that since my geas merely shifted to making magic from forced traveling when I got there, Mindy's rider's on my curse might just get twisted into something new instead of being shucked off.

I was more than willing to risk whatever happened at the gate by now, even if breaking the spell by force was out. My magic tended to be a bit explosive, and I'd be at the center of the fuss if I tried anything more on Mindy's spell. The last attempt to break the spell back at the ghost-town had been instructive.

A wizard that wizarded a wizard had a fool for both a patient and a doctor, it was said. A wizard who magicked himself was even worse.

Still, I was bone-tired. Traveling like this for as long as I had been doing was wearing me down fast, and carrying the witch on my back every day wasn't helping any.

So what if my legs were longer than hers. I was exhausted and the sooner she started walking her part of this trip, the better.

***

## chapter 44 coming into town

"You smell like burnt hair this morning wizard." Henna grumbled that into the back of my neck sleepily. I felt whatever short hairs I had left back there rise slightly. "Again. And it isn't the pall on the horizon, so don't blame it. Do you see that smoke-smudge on the horizon? It's a town."

"Helmsgate? Really?" Aaron looked at the distant smoke with evident relief on his face. Henna smirked at him and waved her hand at it absently.

"Holmwood, Aaron. Holmwood. Only demons and the outworld ghosts call it Helmsgate." She sighed and looked happily at the scant evidence of civilization puffed a dark blue on the horizon. "The gate is just the other side of it. It'd better be the town, too. I haven't had a decent bath in a week now."

Henna watched the wizard march from her riding position on his back and scratched her grimy leathers irritably with one hand. "Our little swims in whatever streams we cross don't count. I have to keep my knapsack dry and that cuts down on any washing time I might get there."

"Demons call it Helmsgate, we call it Holmwood. Weird. There aren't many trees out here at all." Aaron looked around the prairie absently, ignoring Henna's complaints. "Or if they're there, they're invisible trees."

Glaring at the back of Aaron's head, Henna frowned. "Mindy says there were lots of trees in that valley once. The townies cut them all down for firewood or something."

"I wonder what the barbarians call this place?" Aaron looked thoughtful. "Not the other-world ones, Mindy."

"Mindy called it something she translated as 'Smelly-swamp-pesthole'. I can ask Marvin what the ghosts call it, if you like. And by the way, would you please stop calling Marvin Maladroit? He hates that." Henna settled back down on Aaron's back for the last of the day's march. She was tired. Aaron snorted in disgust.

"I would if he'd stop complaining about the other ghosts. Did he tell you about any of the other wizard-apprentices out there?"

"Yes, he did. Some of the other ghosts wandering the plain are like you and him. There's lots of them out there, I guess. One ghost is still being haunted by the people he accidentally killed while alive. Years of bad advice, passing on colds, active maliciousness in commerce and wham! All of a sudden the number of ghosts following you around is more than you can handle. That tips the balance and you die a horrible, miserable death."

Aaron nodded sadly at the story Henna was telling. "The problem is, Henna, ghosts don't go away after you die. They stick around and foul things up in your afterlife, too. Or try to."

"One of the dangers of power, that is." Aaron grumbled. "You develop a crowd of nasty dead types following you around, all trying to mess things up as much as they can; and laughing at you in both worlds as they wreak eternal vengeance on you."

"Some of them even manage to follow you into your next life. Now that's being bad-tempered. Anyway, your weaknesses kill you eventually." Aaron mused to himself. "Mistakes like, oh, your enemies adding up, trying something stupid, or weirdness you can't handle gets after you. One or the other gets all wizards in the end."

"Walking here has been my biggest mistake so far. Well, other than trying to become a wizard." Aaron looked at the smudge on the horizon. "That place looks close. This whole trip will be over in a day or two, won't it?"

"Actually, its just starting. I'm going to make a deal with the bookkeeper in town to help save you." Henna didn't say anything else and Aaron marched thru the grass in silence for a while.

"The Bookseller in town?" He finally asked. "Harvey? What does he do with wizards that I haven't heard of yet?"

Henna smacked Aaron again. "I mean the bookseller Harvey. He likes me and I think I can work a deal with him."

"You're headed there to sell him some magical supplies, right?" Aaron kept marching. "Is my staff gonna be included in that?"

"No, not yet." Henna replied. "Or your journal. The one hidden in your robe."

"I saw it yesterday when I was fixing your clothes." She mentioned before Aaron could ask how she knew about that. "I've also seen a couple book collections at Harvey's place. For the right price, you can read thru all the journals he has collected there, including his private collection of things that almost seemed to work. And play with all the wizard's staffs he has tucked away in the back."

"I'll lend you a pen and you can update your own journal tonight." She added as Aaron stayed quiet. "You'll get a better price for it if he thinks you've got the secrets of Witch's Mountain in there somewhere."

"He has all the staffs from everyone that's wandered thru here in the last couple hundred years? No wonder he has such a nasty reputation." Aaron seemed a little pensive. "Even a few apprentice staffs would give you an enormous power. Any wizard, that is."

"Marvin's staff is there. Or at least he says it is. Harvey's dad paid a bounty for all magical items brought in." Henna mentioned quietly. "So does Harvey. I've seen the collection, there's lots of staffs. They're locked down a couple of different ways, by the old owner, Harvey and stored way in the back of the store."

"I guess they'd be tricky to use. Even if you could get them to the gate, coordinating even a couple staffs together is more than any one wizard can do." Aaron sighed. "It'd be far too complicated to try. It'd be nice to think you could get them all working for you, but it won't happen. Wizards rarely cooperate with other wizards and that goes for their staffs too. It'd be like trying to herd cats."

"I'm sure you can think of something. I'll ask Marvin if he can still work his old staff, if that helps." Henna relaxed a little and looked towards the town. "Isn't your geas over soon for the day, Aaron?"

"Yes." Aaron looked over the grasslands dubiously. "If we keep traveling, I might make the gate by midnight. Just in time for this curse to switch over and force me to start trying magic."

"Then we'll stop and try to get everything done in the morning. We should be back at the bookstore by noon, if we're lucky." Henna said quietly. She ignored the unpleasant little fact Aaron might not be her slave anymore, once he got to the gate. "Then we can work on breaking your geas entirely."

"Be prepared. You'll be walking back to town by yourself, not riding me anymore." Aaron growled, flexing his shoulders. "After we get to the gate, that is. I'm getting a little tired of carrying you, Henna. I've been doing it for days now."

"We'll see what happens when you get to the gate. You might still be my slave after, you know." Henna giggled. "We'll see what Harvey can do when we get to the bookstore after that. He'll have a magical treadmill there, I'm sure. And something that'll keep you doing harmless magics till you get the gate figured out."

"I hope so." Aaron grumbled. "Harvey having a fix for forced magic, that is. I am not looking forward to even magicking the Gate from a distance. It has a nasty reputation for being able to hit back. It was designed that way."

"I'm not looking forward to dying by fire at all." The apprentice added absently. "Not after the last couple of day's preview. The gate has killed everyone trying anything so far, remember. Plus, Marvin says it's actually fairly boring being stuck as a ghost around here."

"Well, you'll have demons, outworld ghosts, local bandits and other apprentices for company. Plus the occasional live talking witch." Henna said brightly. "You could always hang around my garden with the other ghosts and guard it for me."

"Thanks a lot." Aaron sighed. "On eternal potato patrol. A gardener. That sounds swell, really it does."

***

## chapter 45 the gate

Harvey pulled up his horse and looked at the snoring but unconscious wizard slumped on the ground by the gate disgustedly. Henna was hovering over him, still frantically putting out small fires in the apprentice's robe and the surrounding grasses.

"He tried something, didn't he?" He accused the witch kneeling by the prone body protectively. "Even after I tried to warn him, he tried something."

"I don't know." Henna mumbled, still trying frantically trying to pat the smokier area out and wake Aaron back up. "I think so. He walked up, touched the gate, exploded a little, then fell over. Then you caught up to us. I don't know what happened to him."

"Yah. It took me a couple minutes to saddle up the horse and catch up after you two. Great. This could've been anything." Harvey said in disgust, after looking around the landscape a little. "Witches have been messing with his geas-curse. This gate hits back every once in a while, and sputters energy the rest of the time. Plus your boyfriend is an idiot anyway. There's no telling what happened to him."

"Well, let's get the fool back to town." Harvey the bookseller slid off his horse and walked over to where Henna was still shaking Aaron's snoring body.

Aaron was not responding to anything, but he did have a small smile on his face. His snoring continued uninterrupted.

"At least he doesn't sound dead." Harvey allowed, listening to the noises coming from the still-twitching apprentice. Harvey looked dubiously at the arch of the gate shadowing the three of them, then picked up Aaron's staff and took it to his horse, jamming it beside the saddle.

The gate stayed humming ominously at them, still arching with a heavy power. "It isn't safe here. Help me throw him over the horse before this thing starts leaking demons again." Harvey said nervously, looking at the massive stone arch. "The gate is burping, or sounds like it wants to. It really isn't safe here. We'll take your boyfriend back to town and try to fix him up there, Henna. Ask your pet ghost about it."

"Thanks, Harvey." Henna sighed as the two of them struggled to get the wizard's apprentice picked up and draped over the horse. They moved away from the humming gate as fast as they could as the horse slowly jolted away from the noisy gate. "I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say. I agreed to help you de-curse him if you brought me that oil." Harvey grumped as they stopped and Henna mounted up on the horse, Aaron still thrown over the back of it behind her. "I got more than I expected there. I'm rich now. So here I am. This idiot didn't stick around town long enough to find anything useful out, I couldn't prevent that."

"I know. I've been listening to him talk for days about getting here." Henna pointed the horse towards town and let it start the slow amble back. Harvey clumsily grabbed the reins and led them away. "It seems he really wanted to get rid of the slavery-spell."

"You had him in a slavery spell?" Harvey said quietly. He sounded shocked. "Really? How?"

"Mindy changed his geas a little. Added to it, altered it." Henna said quietly, watched the town start to draw closer, riding on the stone road that ended at the gate. "Aaron said something about being forced to contact his old master if he succeeded in fixing the gate. I think she just added to that."

"How?" Harvey mumbled as they made the slow ride back to town on the old stone road that led to the gate. "How did she do it? Witches don't usually mess with wizardry. They can't. Even Indian ones."

"It's land-based curse, or something like that. Fixed to the gate. Aaron has a lot of trouble with ley-lines, too." Henna patted the horse, urging it to a slightly faster walk. The horse ignored her. "She used that link."

"Well, at least she didn't try to steal herself rich." Harvey grumbled as he ambled along beside the horse. "Whatever else Mindy did to him. I've been thinking about this for a while now anyway, and I have a few ideas to try." He added to Henna. "Since you left, actually. Once we get this idiot back to the lab, we've got things to try."

"Good. I want to see the magical treadmill." Henna mentioned happily. "If he's forced to wiz magic a few times a day to settle his geas down, it's gonna have to be a really neat treadmill."

"He exploded almost every time he tries anything. Or whatever he magics explodes. Throwing any wizardry at the gate will get it all thrown back at him, right?" She added carefully. "It's guarded?"

"It's guarded. More wizards than you want to know about have been adding to gate protection, it needed it." Harvey grumbled as he started the trudge back to town. "Me? I've got something more like a cage to cover your boyfriend, as long as he doesn't need to walk while making magic."

Harvey the bookseller sighed a little. "Oh, right. He explodes, too. That figures. I'm going to need more than a few metal dampers, then. I wonder how he feels about getting stripped of all his power?" Harvey grumbled to himself. "Breaking him down sounds a lot better than having a few explosions a day at my place."

"I do have a fair amount of protection and anti-magic spells at my shop. Hundreds of them, in fact. I dusted a few more off after your last visit." Harvey confided to her. "There's no way you should've been able to do what you did back there, did you know that? Not that a lot of it will effect your ghost at all, but these latest spells should put a damper on your pet apprentice here."

"There's other problems now. Aaron was talking about having to make a ghost-shield or trap of some kind." Henna allowed. "Apparently when he exploded in the ley-lines last time he charged up a more than a few ghosts. They've been bothering us a lot recently."

"Great." Harvey grumbled on. "More trouble. He put lightning bolts right up how many ying-yangs and expected them to wake up and play nice?"

"And why aren't they here?" Harvey added carefully, looking around the landscape nervously. "Ask your pet ghost to start watching for ghostly invasions. I don't need any more trouble today."

"They are here. There's crowds of them watching over us right now." Henna said quietly, after talking to Marvin for a few seconds. "Hundreds of them lined up and waiting for this new wizard to explode. Thousands. Some of the ying-yanged ones haven't been awake for years and they're hungry, too. The more experienced ghosts are keeping the trouble-makers in line for us."

"Sort of." Henna added, after cocking her head to one side and listening to Marin to a few more moments. "The ghosts want him alive and exploding here at the gate like every other apprentice, and not haunted to death in town first."

"They aren't so picky about what happens to us." She added, wincing a little. "But we don't look like any fun either, so they're mostly ignoring us. Mostly. Or plan to, so far." She added as Marvin kept adding sordid details in her ear.

"And there's all kinds of ghosts up right now. Firing up the ley-lines in a secret ghost-graveyard got almost everybody all charged up. Demon-ghosts nobody can understand, local bandits, soldiers, dead apprentices, outworlders..." Henna shuddered. "Thousands of ghosts are gathered here right now, floating all around us. Most of them are just staring at us."

"I didn't need to know that." Harvey groaned, moving down the road a little faster now.

"Err. Harvey. Do you want in on the pool?" Henna asked the shuddering bookseller nervously. "Marvin says he can make the bets for us, if we want to. The current thinking is Aaron doesn't last the week."

"A bet? Sure, why not? That might make the invading hordes a little friendlier, won't it?" Harvey cringed a little, then shrugged his shoulders in resignation.

"I'll take a flier on a month." The bookseller said quietly, wiping his forehead. "I think I can make your apprentice last that long. I hope."

"Not if the ghosts decide to make him explode wherever he happens to be standing." Henna said quietly. " Most bandits aren't noted for being real patient, either. Especially the ghost types."

"Or being real skilled. I live with them. I took eight days, along with a few ghosts." She told the nervous bookseller. "Want some ghost-oil? You can make your own bets, if you want. Cut your own deals."

"No thanks. A month, for me. And I bet a week's sleep. We might douse your pet wizard with that oil so he knows what he's dealing with, thou. If he starts getting itchy fingers, he can try to contain himself by counting his troubles." The bookseller mentioned.

"A month, you're in. Or so Marvin tells me. You know, Aaron might attack the ghosts." Henna said. "That's why I said eight days. He gets kinda short-tempered after a while; he'll start trying things on the ghosts bothering him if he has to."

"Swell. You know, that might be what kills the other apprentices." Harvey clucked to his horse, getting her to move a little faster. "Being irritated to death by flying invisible pests. Come on, let's get going. Even with this apprentice out cold, I want to get him under wraps fast; and my lab is the only place I can do that."

"Say, do you know if he talks in his sleep?" Harvey asked the witch nervously. "That's our biggest worry right now."

"Well, other than the gate attacking him, the four kinds of ghosts needling him, his geas being unstable and generally being a physical wreck." Harvey added absently, looking the apprentice over carefully. He rubbed his forehead and grinned a tired grin up at Henna. "And you. Nothing like a challenge, is there?"

The bookseller looked at the unconscious apprentice slumped over the horse again in disbelief. "Henna, exactly what happened to him out there? He looks a lot worse than most of the apprentices wandering into my shop do, and they usually wander into my place in fairly sad shape."

"He walked a lot without much food." Henna said pertly. "Carrying stuff. Against the grain too. Last week, anyway. He spent a lot of time screaming when Mindy took him to witch's mountain."

"Being noisy. That'll take it out of you, for sure." Harvey looked at the squirming, blushing witch suspiciously. "His geas acting up. Getting altered, then getting used badly for ley-line witchcraft. Right. That'll wear anyone out. Fine, he's just tired."

The two of them finished the ride back to town quietly. Harvey always nervously looking around for any sign of a ghostly attack.

The ride was quiet, if foreboding. Both of them could feel the hundreds of ghostly eyes watching their every move.

***

## chapter 46 gauss the cage

"Have I mentioned I don't like this?"

Aaron the apprentice sat in the small iron cage Harvey had built for him and looked at the suit of leather and metal armor Henna was passing in to him in an irritated way. "I look like a knight, not a wizard."

"It's for your own good. Well, more for our own good. You have developed a nasty tendency to explode when you're around other magics, you know." Henna passed another piece of the armor in to Aaron and waited till the leather-lined chest piece got strapped on. "Violently explode. And there's lots of magic and wizardry here."

Henna looked around the room. She and Aaron were surrounded by apprentice and wizard's staffs, journals and lots of dangling arcane charms Harvey swore would suppress all magic around them, including Aaron's geas.

Henna had a few doubts the anti-gout charms she'd spotted in the collection of charms surrounding the cage were doing any good, but didn't dissuade Harvey from his efforts.

He was at least trying to help, even if his ideas were sometimes a bit on the weird side.

"I know. Getting stuck in this cage-thing was not on my list of things to do, thou. Or anything I'd imagined I'd ever be doing." Aaron grumpily put the clanking metal mail on, one piece at a time, and looked disgustedly at the result.

"Chain-mail on a wizard. The breaks the natural order of things, to my mind. Come to think of it, being a witch-slave wasn't on that list either. You say I'm nearly magically invisible now?" Aaron asked Henna that as she surveyed the outside of the cage he was sitting in, still working on hanging charms up.

The cage looked like it was a big balloon, made of wheel strips bent together into a small cage form, more like a big apple than anything else. It curved from where it was tied together top and bottom, and was porous enough for Aaron to urn sideways and slip thru the strips, if he wanted to.

"Invisible? Something like that. Harvey called it extreme grounding, not a cage. Now eat your mush, Harvey says you need the nourishment."

Henna looked significantly at the bowl of barley-oatmeal stew Aaron had on his lap. The apprentice dutifully put the bowl to his face and ravenously glugged a few more mouthfuls down, thoroughly staining his beard and mustache with more gray sludge in the process.

Some of the mush dripped off the end of his newly singed beard and Henna passed the apprentice a napkin.

"I begin to understand why you went face-down in every pool of water we passed." She scolded him, glaring at the mess on his face. "It's so you could see out of the mess on your face again. Really, Aaron. I've seen better manners in a caravan-looting."

"If the looters were starving, I'd understand." Aaron sighed peacefully and scrubbed at the gunk in his beard. "This is the first decent meal I've had in weeks, Henna. Or at least it's the first time I've had all I can eat." He hastily amended as Henna glared female murder at him. "Your roots out there in the grasslands were a life-saver, thou. Honest."

"Yes, I know." Henna passed in the end of a long wire to Aaron. "Here. Harvey says you attach one end of this wire to your armor, one end to the cage and I make sure the cage's wire stays stuck into the floor."

"I wonder what it's supposed to do. It doesn't look like any magic-sucking ley-line I've ever seen before." Aaron tied the wire to his ankle and tugged at it, making sure it was in place. "It's copper and iron wire. What good is that going to do? Any ghosts out there?" He asked Henna, who was fussing around with the arrangement of charms in the room as well as the ones festooned all over the cage. "Or anything else I should know about?"

"As a matter of fact, you're currently the center of attention for more demon-ghosts than I've ever seen in my life." Henna said quietly. "And nothing here has any effect on them."

"You're surrounded. Completely and there's hundreds of them in the room. They seem to be keeping the other ghosts away from you, even Marvin. It might be an honor guard, or something like that." She added. "But there's lots of them and they're all over this room."

"And I seem to getting more sensitive to metal." Aaron pulled at the chain-mail shirt draped over his chest. If he stood up, it'd hang nearly to his knees. "This stuff itches like you won't believe, and in places I can't scratch."

"Like the middle of my brain." The apprentice pulled at his beard. "And it's getting worse."

"I think that maybe that means it's working." Henna took a cloth and started around the room, dusting off the staffs and otherwise making the lab tidy. " Try reading a few of the other journals. It might take you mind off it."

The other journals were in a small heap on one of the tables. Henna pulled one at random from the pile and handed it in to Aaron. "Harvey says these apprentices made the most progress before exploding, or getting killed by the gate burbling or attacking or whatever it does out there."

"Backlash." Aaron explained absently. "The gate has lots of defences, so any wizard that hits it with anything usually gets his magic deflected right back on him. Or whoever threw the spell."

"Whoever?" Henna asked archly. " You mean you can make magic by proxy?"

"That'd be awfully hard on whoever was silly enough to do that." She mused as she moved around the room. She patted a brownish skull happily. "Tossing a spell for a wizard sounds stupid. Won't it?"

"Yah. It's more of a 'Set this charm by the gate within the hour, then get back here fast.' type of thing." Aaron sighed. "It doesn't work at all, according to these guys. The gate just burbles at the spell."

"Toss a spell. The gate burbles, no more spell. Have a spell or charm tossed for you. The gate burbles. Set a watch spell, the gate burbles and eats it." Aaron tossed the journal to a growing pile by his feet. "Nothing works, according to these guys. Eventually, they have to go there in person to try something and then the gate kills them."

"There are other books, if you want to try inventing a new type of spell." Henna mentioned quietly as the apprentice started getting depressed at his chances of living thru this. "Hundreds of years worth."

"And no one really knows how the wizard that made this gate did it in the first place. The best guess is it's a natural hole that he enhanced somehow." Aaron picked up another book and started leafing thru it. "The original inventor was killed by a local barbarian king who wanted the gate for himself, and no one has ever figured out how he did it."

Henna ignored that as she moved around the room, trying to set the magic charms up as best she could, even if none of them seem to have any effect on the demon-ghosts watching Aaron. The room quieted as Aaron got lost in his studies.

***

## chapter 47 try try try

"So herbal magic, natural ley-lines and wizardry have all been tried on you, right? None of them seem to work very well."

Harvey fidgeted around the room, looking at the collection of artifacts he'd surrounded Aaron's cage with. They bobbed and swung in the air, making the cage they were draped over look like a decorated ball of string. Aaron was scratching at his chain-mail nervously in the center of it all, and felt like he was sitting in a gaily decorated tree.

"You're the one doing the reading. So what else do we look at?" Harvey asked the young apprentice quietly. "If everything has been tried already."

"I don't know anymore. You can't get any of the big names in wizardry to come take a look at this, can you?" Aaron picked a book up, glanced at it for a moment, then promptly put it back down again. He plucked at the chain-mail he was wearing nervously. "Or something like that? Promise them oils or something. Tell them you made a break-thru."

"Not a chance. I am not getting the most powerful wizards on the planet ticked at me by dragging them here with lies and false promises." Harvey snapped back at the apprentice. "You think you're gate-geas is bad, wait till you get a big wizard annoyed at you. Granddad had problems with one. Your current problems will start looking like child's play."

"You've never seen anyone try to gallop off in all directions at once." Harvey grumbled, more to himself than anyone else. "It isn't pretty."

"Would you ask them here?" That question got put to Aaron carefully, Harvey looking at him with only one eye.

"At the moment, yes. Any way I could." Aaron scratched his chain-mail again. "This grounding of yours only works a little, and the sad part of it is I can't feel anything coming in. So my geas thinks I haven't tried any magic yet. That's making me very antsy right at the moment."

It'd been a few days since Aaron had gotten stuck in the cage and except for a few spells he'd asked Henna to leave by the gate for him, there'd been nothing going on. Harvey nodded sagely.

There'd been no progress in getting the gate to start working to speak of. None of Aaron's remote spells had done anything at all, the gate had simply burbled and quietly ate them all without making any fuss.

"Know any gods owe you any favors?" Harvey asked the apprentice weakly. "No? Demon-ghosts, maybe? Do the other-word types flitting around here have anything to say about this?"

Harvey gestured at the applied ghost-wizardry all around Aaron hopelessly. Aaron sighed and tugged at his mail.

"Yes, both of them do. Lots, in fact. In languages I unfortunately can't understand. Watch this." Aaron scratched at his chain-mail and tried throwing a spark of power at a nearby drifting fly.

The spark got grabbed and drained away by the cage. All the metal surrounding Aaron made his wizardry curve in mid-air, strike iron and disappear, even against the geas pull. Nothing got thru.

"I'll swear the demon-ghosts speak in mathematics." Aaron added grumpily. "Weirdest language I've ever heard. Total gibberish."

"Hey, no more wizardry unless you really need to. Keep that up and the mail you're wearing will start draining your power off." Harvey said nervously. "And probably over-heat in the process. Don't put a lot of power into anything, I don't think you're well enough grounded to take out a lot of juice."

"You might even cook yourself alive if you get too rambunctious." Harvey said quietly, shuddering. "Explosively. Not that that'd bother me a lot, but your pet witch seems to want to keep you alive."

"I know. She keeps telling me I have a job to do for her and that's to convince her bandit relatives that she's better left alone here in town. Along with the townsfolk, the natives, ghosts and whoever else hangs around here annoying her to back off." Aaron groaned. "And she was right about one thing. My geas did stay chained to her. She can almost command my wizardry now, did you know that?"

"She can? How does that work?" Harvey asked in puzzlement. "Did she oil you up again? Are you sure that stuff isn't it?"

"Ghost oil? Yes, I get dosed with that stuff every morning." Aaron looked depressed. "It doesn't do much for me in here. Some demon-ghosts spend a few minutes trying to talk to me when I start watching them. When that doesn't work, I get ignored for the rest of the day. Takes a larger and larger dose every morning to get the same effects, too."

The apprentice sighed again. "Henna said I'd get more sensitive to ghosts the more I used the oil. I'm not. Plus, I keep getting this impulse to offer her wizardry now. Before, I had to travel to the gate. That was my curse. Now, I have to wiz things up for her, plus try to fix the gate."

"It's a weird feeling. If she asks me to do magic, I do it. It's involuntary. She asks for something and I do it before I can even think about it." Aaron looked peeved. "Dangerous to the point of being suicidal, right? A wizard being owned by a witch, and I have no choice in the matter. She knows enough not to ask me for anything now. She doesn't even dare suggest anything anymore."

"Ah, that's why this place smelt of burnt hair yesterday. You fried off some more beard this morning?" Harvey looked around in gloomy satisfaction. "What did she do?"

"Asked me if I'd tried to magic any of the demon ghosts. I snapped off a containment spell on one before I even thought about it. One of the ghosts in the cage with me. Almost took my beard off, and didn't do anything for the ghost. He didn't even get charged up, just drifted right thru it."

"Chuckling, I think. In math. The demon-ghosts like the gate energy." Aaron added. "The locals like me. The outworld ghosts like ley-lines. That's all I've found out about them."

"Henna says the kids that were bothering you out in the grasslands have come back into town. They were carrying mail with them, and that was about it." Harvey sounded gloomy. "That figures. The witch of the mountain isn't even bothering to kill trespassers anymore, she just turns them into zombie-postmen."

Aaron chuckled a little. "Ha. That sounds like Mindy to me. The old witch would let the kids wander around till they killed themselves." Aaron twitched again. "Listen, Harvey. All this is nice, but I'm getting really bored. I've got to try something on the gate soon or I'll go crazy in here."

"Hold off as long as you can. It doesn't get any easier. Once you try something, you can't stop." Harvey sounded nervous. "You have to do more, and better. You're read the journals, you have to keep trying, and the small stuff doesn't work, so you go big-time."

The bookseller sighed unhappily. "Then you explode. Tie a few more wires to the cage, Aaron. Ones attached to the chain-mail you're wearing, please."

"If you're going to explode in here, I'd really like it if as much of your magic as possible gets drained away." Harvey shuddered and looked at the walls of his home dubiously. " This place is way too old to take much of a battering anymore."

"I know. Say, why do you have a sword hidden in the wall there? It's weird."

Aaron nodded at a plastered-over section of an internal wall. "I know there's a lot of magic in here, but that's just silly. I can feel it in there. There's a sword hidden that wall and it isn't even doing anything, just sitting there."

"What sword?" Harvey perked up, interested. "You can detect metal now? Where's my cash-box, apprentice?"

"Which one?" Aaron looked around, not seeing the room or the cage he was stuck in anymore. "There's a hoard of something in the main shop, hidden in the floorboards. Behind the counter. There's a lost silver piece in the kitchen, behind the sink. Lots of knives in there, thou most of them are stone. There's another metal box in your bedroom, filled with chunks of something I can't identify."

"And quite a few nails in this place, even if they are expensive." Aaron added, looking around a bit. "Plus that hidden sword and small bits of stuff here and there."

"You are sensitive to metal." Harvey looked interested, and perturbed. "Say apprentice, this changes everything. You might've just discovered your wizardry here, did you realize that?"

" About the sword in the wall." Aaron started at the section of wall in question. "Please. I can't tell you much about it, but I know it's there and it's making my brain itch. Can you move it?"

Harvey wandered over and looked at the wall Aaron was staring at curiously. He seemed pleased with something.

"You're getting metal-sensitive. That chain-mail must itch something fierce right now. First I'm going to find out just how good you are at finding gold." Harvey murmured happily. "Metal sensitive, wow. Gold dust and nuggets in particular, I hope. Wait right here."

With that Harvey practically ran from the room. Aaron watched him go sadly, sitting in his cage and tugging at his chain-mail, watching the ghosts bob around him with a weary expression on his face.

***

## chapter 48 presto chango

"Watch this, Henna. He finds stuff now. Metal things."

Henna watched Harvey bounce around the room dubiously while Aaron sat in his cage with a bored look on his face.

"Your apprentice has found a very interesting magical talent to use. I just hope it's real and not something we're somehow doing to him." Harvey was really excited and was holding something tight in one pocket. Henna followed him sadly around the room, watching Aaron out of the corner of one eye.

"Close your eyes, apprentice. I want to hide this." Harvey snapped out as his sleeves wildly. "And no peeking, please."

"Please get rid of that sword. You're holding two nails and a button with a drip of tin on it in your hand." Aaron closed his eyes. "And right now you're putting one of the nails into... The forth book from the top on the second heap by the door."

Harvey made excited noises and shoved everything back into his pocket. "See, I told you! I didn't even get them hid. Wait. I'll get a hammer and chisel now. We'll dig out that sword." He burbled away happily. "Metal detection, wow! What a gold hunter you'll make!"

"If you live." Henna watched the bookseller run from the room and walked around the cage slowly, not looking at Aaron. "Your chain-mail?" She asked, looking off into one corner where the wizard's staffs were heaped. "And anything else?"

"It itches. Seems that way." Aaron said quietly. " Anything metal. Say, can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes. Just don't listen to anything I have to say, you might explode on me." Henna kept her wandering around the room up, trying to stay behind the caged apprentice. She sniffed the air in a disgusted manner. "Phew. Burnt hair is bad enough, Aaron. Now you're worse, somehow. Have you had a bath in the last little while?"

"Ah, no. I haven't gotten out of this cage in a few days now." Aaron watched the witch prowling around the room nervously. "Why, what do you have in mind?"

Henna mentioned quietly, toying with her long red braid of hair. "As soon as Harvey is finished tearing the wall out, I'm going to give you a bath."

"One body part at a time, if that's how it has to be done." She finished grimly. "You'll be wearing your chain mail the whole time, too. Just to be on the safe side."

"That sounds... Interesting." Aaron allowed. He kept watching her intently the red-haired witch prowled around the room. "Anything would be better than the oils you dump on me every morning. More fun, too."

Harvey came back into the room banishing a chisel before Henna could say anything. He had a hammer in his belt, too.

"So where is this sword that's bothering you, Aaron?" He asked absently, looking around the room. "Or did you two want to left alone instead?" He asked in an embarrassed voice as he looked around.

"Finish making the mess. Then I'm going to clean up our trapped wizard up a bit." Henna said quietly, still playing with her braid of hair. "I've got water heating up for it right now."

"And some more oils." She mentioned quietly, then stuck out her tongue at Aaron. Aaron stayed glaring back at her. "Smelly ones."

Harvey nodded, then went over to the wall, peering at the plaster closely and fingering one small dent there carefully. "I wonder what ancestor or guest of mine buried this sword in here." He muttered. Then he shrugged and swung the hammer at the plaster, making cracks spider all over a small section of wall. "And what it really is." He added.

"With all the other magical junk around here, whatever anyone hid like this should be really impressive." Harvey mentioned, swinging the hammer again. Chunks of plaster fell out of the wall, along with a few puffs of dust. "And valuable, I hope."

"Money always helps, even if you don't need it." Henna agreed from where she was watching from the far side of the room. "But I'm betting it's just a charmed barbarian sword from one of the wars that went thru here."

"Maybe. There were lots of battles over the gate. Some officer's sword is my guess. Other-world, you say?" Harvey grumbled, swing the hammer again. More plaster exploded. "Oh, the honor of the regiment, all that sort of thing. An official surrender, or plunder. A trophy that needed to cool down for a while and got forgotten about is my guess."

"Everything else around here had lots of magic attached to it." Harvey grumbled, swinging the hammer again. "Betcha this has some too. I wonder what we'll find."

"Nothing till you move. The sword is about a foot over and only a couple inches deep." Aaron stuck in quietly. "If you move over... Ah, that's the way. Right there."

The next swing of the hammer had the plaster shatter and fall away from the wall in long strips. Harvey crowed in triumph and roughly pulled a long sword from the plaster, shaking strings, cloth and chunks of plaster from it.

The sword looked like a sword, although it did have a strange design on the hilt. Harvey swung it a few times experimentally, shaking the last of the plaster loose from it.

"It'll take me a few hours to find out anything about this." He said excitedly. Then he looked up at Aaron and Henna, who weren't paying any attention to him.

"I'll just let you know when I do, shall I?" he asked plaintively. The other two kept ignoring him.

"Enjoy your bath, wizard." Harvey grumbled, stalking out of the room and staring at the sword in his hand happily. "I'll be back."

***

chapter 49 the sword is the thing

"I feel like an idiot."

Aaron looked around his small cage in disgust. He was still wearing his itchy chain mail and tugged at it constantly. Still wired to the metal of the cage surrounding him with stands of liverish metal threads going from the mail to the cage and from the cage into the ground, he held the sword Harvey had just handed him out in irritation.

Henna was smirking at him from the outside of the cage, still cleaning the room up from her hasty sponge-bath of Aaron. She was wringing water happily from her braid occasionally, too.

Harvey had decided not to mention the water-splashes spread all over the room. It looked like Aaron had fought the sponge hard and had lost every step of the way.

But now Aaron was cleaner, Henna was happy and the room looked like a water war-zone. They were both still smiling at each other thou, even as Aaron readjusted his damp-splotched robe and glared at the bookseller.

"Listen, Harvey." Aaron tried to look dignified. "I'm a wizard, not a mercenary. You've got me dressed in chain-mail, stuck in a cage-jail and carrying a magic sword." Aaron accused the bookseller unhappily with a nasty look. "This is not anything I ever wanted to do. It isn't anything any wizard ever wants to do, really. What do you think is going to happen?"

"Plus Aaron wants to magic the gate again. I can tell, when he gets testy about things when he does." Henna stuck in, grinning. "Try to relax, Aaron. You're being fed, watered and kept safe from yourself right now. Just play nice with Harvey and his new sword for a while, OK?"

"Well, you're being kept anyway." Harvey noted idly. "The safe part is dubious. This is important, wizard. If you wiz metals now, you might have a new approach to getting the gate fixed, one that's never been tried before."

"Or at least had anyone live thru it long enough to make a record of the attempt." Harvey amended carefully as Aaron grumped disapproval. "Was there anything in the journals you've been reading about metal-magic?"

"I might live thru this. That's a pleasant thought." Aaron grumbled out, holding the sword away from him like it might turn into a snake and bite him at any moment. It stayed pinched between two fingers and dangling in front of him as he glared at it. "No, there were no metal-wizards in the journals, death-metal or not."

"You do look handsome, Aaron." Henna tried to smile up at the wizard. "Kind of like a barbarian warlord."

Aaron glared at Henna steadily, not smiling at all.

"Well, from certain angles you do." She added with a small lady-like sniff at him. "Can you flex a few muscles for me, Mr. Beefcake? It'd help the image. Or fluff what's left of your beard into a berserker-style arrangement."

"No. And what is it you want me to try?" Aaron turned his attention to the bookseller, who was hovering around the edges of the domestic dispute like he really wanted to be somewhere else. "Is there any wizardry involved?"

"Some." Harvey seemed nervous. "Your new wizardry, actually. If you can find it. First off, a few caveats. I couldn't identify the metal in the sword, so it's probably off-world. Maybe even the same stuff the gate is made of."

Aaron looked at the sword with new interest at that.

"Why it bothered you, I don't know. Second, there is magic on the sword, and of a type I don't know anything about. I couldn't figure out how it was put on the sword either." Harvey went on, putting his hands behind his back and wandering around the room, looking at the pile of staffs along one wall, the journals, the caged apprentice and the witch cleaning the room up nervously.

"And last, the sword is designed to work with the magic of the user somehow. Don't ask me how or what it does, I don't know. All I could tell is that whatever magic you use, the sword does something to it."

"Or uses somehow. Or something." Harvey added as Aaron stayed glaring at him. "Hey, for a quick look, I did OK." he muttered uneasily. "OK, now it's your turn. You try to find something out about the sword, Aaron. Try using it, very gently."

"It's made of metal." Aaron grumped out, still holding it out at arm's length between two fingers and closing one eye to look at it. "Henna, can you tell anything about it? Do the ghosts in the room have anything to say about this blasted thing?"

"There was some excitement when it first came out of the wall, and more when you got the sword." Henna allowed quietly. "The outworld and demon ghosts all stayed clustered around the sword for a few moments. But then they went back to just floating around, muttering in a language I don't understand, so that's about all I can say."

"Swell." Aaron took the sword on one hand and held the blade up to his nose. "It's covered in runes. They aren't anything I've ever seen before." He mentioned, pulling it down and using his thumb to test the edge of the blade. "Still sharp, and it feels old."

"If it's a first-age sword, it came from a different sun than ours." Harvey mentioned quietly. "And metal behaved differently 'way back then, too. A lot differently. Be careful, Aaron."

"Hey, the pressures on the universe were different. The metal might not be doing what it was designed to do anymore." Harvey added as Aaron and Henna looked at him. "Like boiling eggs on a mountain-top, things are different down here now. If it really is an old-sun sword." Harvey added as the two stayed staring at him. "First-age metal type of thing. They're weird."

"Or just an off-world sword." Harvey added in resignation as the two stayed glaring at him. "Hey, the elders are a hobby with me. I can hope. Please keep on going."

Aaron swished the sword in the air experimentally. "Well, the grip is OK." He said pensively. "Human, sort of. I guess. And I can feel the wizardry on the sword. Very pervasive."

"Magic. It was made with magic." Henna sputtered out. She stuck her nose in the air as the other two looked at her. "I betcha. It's a magic-metal, not a wizarded metal. Right?"

"Maybe. Hard to tell with off-world stuff." Aaron looked down the blade, turning away from the witch as she patted at her wet hair with a towel.

"Well, I can't tell anything else about it without trying something." Aaron glared at the sword like it'd been trying to kill him.

Both Henna and the Harvey started edging away from the caged apprentice as he said that. "What do you suggest I try?" He added as they got further away from him.

Henna had told Harvey all about Aaron's little problem with wizardry going explosive. They both knew being around Aaron when he tried anything wizard-ish was very dangerous and a lot worse when he was surrounded with magics.

"There, Henna. That'll be the safest spot in the room. There's more magic on those things than anything else in the house." Harvey pointed to the collection of wizard's staff leaning against one wall, whispering advice to Henna. Both of them started edging their way behind the staffs, hiding behind them out like it was a shield made of sticks.

"Wiz something very small and delicate, Aaron." Henna called out as she dug her way behind the rattling staffs. "Nothing adventurous. Don't put any power into it."

"A small bug-zap." Harvey called out as he ducked behind the staffs too. "Very small. And be careful of what you aim at, this house is all I've got left to me."

"Say, you two look really worried about something. I wonder what." Aaron poked the tip of the sword out of the cage and aimed at the wall nearest to him. "And I'd duck further down if I were you. You designed this cage to suck up and ground all wizardry and magic, remember? I don't know what it'll take to get thru that. Anything important on the other side of this wall?" He asked Harvey absently.

"A stone well." Harvey answered quickly. "And the kitchen just beyond that."

"Well, here goes nothing." Aaron said absently, trying to aim high with the sword. "I'm going to concentrate on the metal and try to figure out what it does, you two watch what happens out here, OK?"

"OK. Henna peeked out from behind the hedge of staffs she was hiding behind. "Let it rip, Aaron. Just be careful with your bug-zap. Make it a small one."

***

## chapter 50 zappa

"Any kind of magic at all? Really?"

Harvey looked at the new hole high in the wall dubiously. Then he wandered over and peered into it with a sad expression on his face, puffing away plaster dust.

"Nothing structural, thank the gods." He muttered, looking thru the still smoking gap in the walls. "Your blast went right thru this wall, the well-wall, then killed an innocent window in the kitchen." he muttered quietly. "I wonder if it did anything to the house across the street."

"I was aiming up. Unless it was a really tall building, I should've missed it." Aaron protested. He was holding the sword out from him in an aghast way and staring at it like it was a live snake. "Wow. What a sword."

"Better than your staff even?" Henna asked carefully. She was still hiding behind the tumbled collection of staffs, trying to pick her way out of them without hurting herself. "You did lots of damage with that thing the last time you got stuck in a ley-line."

Aaron stayed staring at the sword. "Lots better than that. This thing takes power and boosts it up somehow. I wonder where it gets the energy from?" He looked at the sword in a puzzled manner. "And what would a thread of this metal would do embedded in my staff?"

"If it is a magic metal and not a wizarded one." He added as Henna came out from behind the last of the staffs with as clatter of old wooden staffs tumbling down behind her. "I think you're right, Henna." he nodded at her. "This is a magic-metal made into an outworld sword."

"One that boosts the power of the user." Harvey grumped out unhappily. "Put it down now, please. I need what's left of my home left standing."

Aaron reluctantly put the sword down at his feet and picked up his staff instead. "And that was only a spark." he muttered to himself. "Not enough power in that to kill a fly, and it almost took the whole house out."

"The sword has had several hundred years to recharge." Harvey mentioned quietly, reaching into the cage and taking the sword back hastily. "It might run down fast if you use it a lot."

"That's something that war-wizards are always careful of." The bookseller added as Henna and Aaron looked at him in puzzlement. "Running out of steam in the middle of a battle is usually what gets war-wizards killed."

"You get excited and use up all your power. It's in the books." He added as Henna stared at him. "Wizards can get swarmed under then, it's how people usually handle them."

"And if I use that on the gate with everything I've got, there's a good chance I could fry the whole town off the map in the process." Aaron was staring at the sword in disbelief. "So this is why barbarians are always after magic swords. Incredible."

"The gate is farther away from town than you think. You might transcend every ghost in the area with a good blast, thou. Turn some grassland into glass as you evaporate yourself."

"Gate defences, remember? Designed to take whole armies on." Harvey looked around the room nervously. "Including a few war-wizards. You did say hitting ghosts with a lot of energy pushed them up a level or two? Did you hit any and did they stay around here?"

'I'll check." Henna was staring around the room with wide-open eyes as Harvey said that. "Wow. Speaking of, you should see what happened to the ghosts caught in that blast. They turned white, grew three sizes and disappeared. The rest of them are fighting, trying to get and stay in front of the sword now."

"In case it blasts again. That's transcending. With any luck the energy boost will be a short-cut home; They'll stay up there till they discharged and come back down. The upper levels have a lot different geography than the one here." Aaron mentioned. "Or so the books I've read on it say."

"You got power to spare if you want to do anything when you're transcended, that's all I'm worried about. They might decide to get nasty about being stuck here for the last few hundred years. Great." Harvey rubbed his brow and put the sword away in a sheaf carefully. "You, apprentice, now have a magic sword, lots of staffs to play with, some new wizardry and an idea to work on." Harvey put the sword away carefully in a cupboard. "Henna, I think I've filled my part of the bargain. This will help, you owe me big-time. Me, I've got a house to repair now."

"Staffs, yes. I can use them now. Get me some of that flower-oil, would you Henna?" Aaron was looking at the staffs piled along the wall intently. "And see if you can smuggle your pet ghost in here. I need to talk to him again."

"About what?"

Aaron just glared at the little red-haired witch. "Oh, just some wizardly stuff. I'll see if I can find him." She finally said. "He doesn't like staying around demon ghosts much. He says they make him itch in delicate spots."

"First the oil." Aaron called out as Henna left the room. "Bring lots. I want to talk to his friends, too."

"If he has any. Please remember ghosts aren't real social people and when they are, they're usually trouble." Harvey the bookseller sighed and looked around the room. "My house defences just got holed so I'm off to fix this place up a little. Try not to destroy any more of my home till I get back, would you?"

With that the bookseller left the room, leaving Aaron locked in the cage with his staff.

Aaron picked up a bowl of mush, blew some of the water puddle on it off and slowly drank another few mouthfuls of oatmeal down.

"There's a whole roomful of wizard-magic here." He muttered to himself. "Used staffs complete with their wizard-ghosts, a magic barbarian sword from another world and a helpful local witch. Plus Harvey. I wonder if this'll work?"

"What do I try?" Aaron looked around the cluttered room and scratched one cheek thoughtfully. "That's obvious. Everything."

***

## chapter 51 ghost signals

"So what are they doing now?"

Henna nodded at Aaron and looked around the room again, wincing a little as she did.

"Well, we have three kinds of ghosts trying to talk to one another right now, mostly thru sign language, which is really difficult for them as they don't have a body to sign with anymore."

Henna stayed staring around her, her eyes traveling around the room. "Marvin says most of the local ghosts, even the wizard apprentice ones, are too far decayed to do any magic with their old staffs, but there are a few that'll help us. They're waiting for you to do something."

"He doesn't trust them a whole lot, but magicking the gate again seems to interest the newer ghosts." She added. "A little, anyway."

"It's weird." Henna rubbed at her eyes and glanced over at Aaron. "I've never seen so many ghosts in one spot before, ever, and Marvin says a couple of them have gone off to tell the rest what's happening here. More should be arriving soon."

"Not all of them are coming for the big apprentice blow-up, either. The whole bandit-camp group should arrive in a couple hours, including the ghost pestering us on the way home." Henna groaned and rubbed her temples. "We'd better hope he's in a better mood or has powered down again." She added, looking around the room carefully, apparently counting something. "He could get testy about being blasted again, but the demon ghosts seem to be keeping everyone in line. There's no trouble here yet."

Henna pulled her shirt down tight and rambled on, her eyes still darting around the room. "The demon-ghosts and outworlders are mostly still fighting for position around of and in front of the sword, along with the bandits and the soldiers from everywhere. There's even a couple of local ghosts who came in on their own." That came as an aside as Henna looked at the cupboard the sword as stored in.

Looking over the flowers she had clenched in one hand, Henna sighed again. "I really wish the oil would start working on you, Aaron. I wonder why it stopped?"

The returning nod from Aaron was absent-minded. "When you first come into your magic, there is a long period of adjustment. Your magic surges. Months long. Think of it as puberty and my feet just grew three sizes overnight, I developed a lot of strength I don't know I have, and my voice keeps cracking."

"Your little flower-magics just get burned off. Maybe ignored." Looking around the room sadly with a special glance at the magic sword hanging on one wall, Aaron blushed a little. "If you thought I was clumsy before, you should see what happens to my wizardry now."

Gesturing at the smoldering remains of the cage around him, and the new wires grounding his chain-mail to it, Aaron grinned. "My power, right now? The new wizardry I have? It's like having five or six people pump water, but all doing whatever they want, whenever they want. You don't know what's going to come out. Ever."

"It'll stabilize over the next few months." Aaron kept blushing. "Or sooner. When I try wizardry there might be nothing come out, or there might be a flood. I can't tell what'll happen till I try it."

"Great. More of the same, only worse." Henna sighed. "Has anything else gone wrong?"

"Well, what happens is a lot closer to what I want to have happen." Aaron said quickly. "It's not all bad news. I don't occasionally throw flowers when trying to zap flies now. I hope."

"Your beard got singed again, thou. What's left of it, that is. Is your geas still active?" Henna asked quietly. "Are you still forced to make gate-magic?"

"With all my might." Aaron said quietly. "That's an urge that never goes away. Even thinking about the gate makes me itchy. I really want to get there and try something and the feeling only gets worse when I think about it."

Henna sat down in a chair and rubbed her neck. "Marvin says there's an interesting wizard ghost here with a few things to tell you." She mentioned. "He doesn't speak our language, thou. I can relay it to you from Marvin, if you want."

"Which staff?" Aaron looked interested as Henna got up and trekked over to the pile of abandoned staffs lined up against one wall. The pile got shuffled thru as Henna moved staffs and got to the right one. She handed it to Aaron, who pulled it into his cage and looked it over professionally.

"Ah. There is something here, other than this being a charged wizard's staff." He mentioned as he examined the carved wood carefully. "This one might actually be useful. Is it made from lightning-blasted oak?" He asked Henna.

Henna nodded and whispered to Marvin, who got the answer from the wizard ghost who owned the staff. "Nope. New swamp-cedar." Henna passed back to him with a resigned expression on her face.

"Ley-line grown?" Aaron stumbled on, blushing again.

"Nope. Sewage-lagoon swamp." Henna started giggling. "Not even dragon manure, before you even ask. The swamp was downhill from a brothel and few inns outside a small city. A festering and fetid place, according to the ghost, but very febrile."

"A war-wizard?" Aaron whispered in defeat. "Or what?"

"History teacher." Henna replied. Then she blushed as she listened to her invisible friend. "And his specialty makes Marvin's zombie-accountants look tame. He was here on a treasure-hunt when he died."

"What is it?" Aaron asked carefully, still looking the worn and polished staff over. "What does this staff do?"

Henna giggled again. "Genealogy. Marvin says the ghost is a bad-tempered sex-specialist and was an amateur ghoster. Or something very close to that."

Blushing harder, Henna giggled. "He's reading you right now and telling me what games your grandparents used to play when they were alone together."

"Oh, that's nasty." Henna blushed and covered her mouth, still giggling. "Would you like to know what song they were singing when your father was conceived?"

"No. Swell, add him to the pile. I hope something useful comes out of all this next." Aaron sighed. "OK, get the next wizard-ghost for me, would you? Ask around and see if anyone has found a way for me use all the staffs at the same time yet."

"Will do. The next volunteer is a fire-specialist and says if you so much as touch his staff without his permission it'll burn your ear-hair off."

"From the inside out." Henna shuddered and stared off into space as she listened intently. "Really, he's being quite graphic about it. He says his staff has more booby-traps on it than this store does, and he was one of the people that helped set up some of the traps here."

"Just set the staff with the others then. If it has power, I'll think of something useful to do with it. For him to do with it." Aaron grumbled. He pushed at the remains of one singed eyebrow wearily. "Next. We have lots of ghosts to get thru here, Henna. Who else have we got that wants to help me wizard the gate back to life?"

***

## chapter 52 get to the gate

"You look handsome. Just like one of the oldtime war-wizards."

Pouting slightly, Henna watched Aaron walk thru the grasslands on the way to the gate, fumbling with the unfamiliar gear he was currently wearing. "Really, the sword at your side makes you look really, really dangerous. And interesting."

"I want my staff back and have no interesting in looking dangerous, interesting or handsome." Aaron grumbled as he marched across the still-damp grass. "Sword is 'word' with an 's' added. I'm a word-person, a developer, not a bandit or warlord. This stuff'll only get the wrong type of people interested in me. Who wants to be a professional bandit anyway?"

"Hey, most of my friends are bandits." Henna snapped back at him. "Well, when they aren't trying to be farmers." She added slowly. "But I think the sword is cute anyway. It goes well with the chain-mail."

"Maybe if you started carrying her everywhere again she'd stop mentioning how muscled you are these days, Aaron." Harvey the bookseller chuckled. "Go ahead, flex something for her. It'll only make things worse, no matter what you do."

"I know." Aaron thumped his staff into the ground and looked over at the horse carrying all the gear they'd collected for his first attempt at warding the gate open. He rattled the neckful of charms Henna had insisted he wear in an irritated manner. "She likes me. Did we bring everything?" He asked the bookseller nervously. "I don't think I'll be able to wait out a trip back to town if we forgot anything."

"We have everything. Henna says every ghost on the plains seems to be here watching, too." Harvey looked around the empty grasslands and sighed. "At least she says they're here." He added dubiously.

"They are, and in bigger groups than I've ever seen before." Henna giggled happily. "Some of these ghosts haven't come out of their graves since they were killed. There's a lot of grudge-matching going on with the people that killed them, and some of the other ghosts, but none of it is very serious. The demon ghosts are keeping the peace."

"Two ghosts walloping at each other in this crowd isn't very noticeable. They don't seem to be able to do any damage to each other." She added. "We're in the middle of thousands of ghosts." She added, looking around at things only she could see. "And it looks like a big floating parade."

"Swell, we're off to a ghostly picnic, with me as the main item on the menu." Aaron stuck in, bitterly. He patted the sword at his side. "Are the demon-ghosts still clustering around this thing?"

"Yes. More than ever." Henna looked around nervously. "You know, I really wish we could talk to those guys. The gate seems to be leaking into their realm, and they probably want to get back home as much as the off-world ghosts do."

"I'm more worried about the apprentice-ghosts taking another shot at wizing the gate open." Aaron shuddered. "Stray shots at random intervals with stuff I've never heard of. It's going to be hard enough to get anything done without things going all occasional on me. The geas didn't stick with the apprentice-ghosts in the afterlife, did it?"

"Yes, it did." Both Harvey and Henna answered that at the same time. Harvey blushed a little. "You take with you what you've developed." He muttered, looking at the little red-haired witch in a peeved way. "That includes whatever habits any curse gave you."

"For most of the ghosts that's true." Henna added. "There are a few that claim that nothing bothers them anymore. They're just here for the show."

"Ha. If they're still here, something is keeping them here." Aaron said quietly. "I got to assume that most of them are going to try and help magicking the gate open with me even if they don't think they're going to do anything."

"There are a few that the demon-ghosts are keeping a tight rein on." Henna mentioned. "The ones that want to take a shot at you and not the gate, I'm assuming."

"And speaking of the gate, here it is." Harvey pointed out the stone arch coming up out the grass. "Whew. I thought we'd never get here."

"You don't know the half of it." Henna murmured quietly. "There's more ghosts waiting for us here. Ghosts by the thousands.'

"We only have an honor-guard escort, so far." She said in disbelief. "I can barely see the gate anymore."

"Does the gate belch fire in any particular direction, Harvey?" Aaron looked nervously at the stone arch and slapped nervously at the sword he was wearing. "Or does it just hiccup in general circle when provoked?"

"Both. The witness accounts weren't always clear. There's something about watching a friend of yours going up in smoke and fire that upsets most of the witnesses." Harvey coughed and moved over to the horse. "The observer accounts are frazzled. Henna, you watch our twitchy wizard, would you? I don't want him trying anything till we get back out of range."

"And everything is set up for whatever he wants to try." Henna added, looking over the staffs, charms and sword Aaron was setting up all around the gate. "The ghosts are already attached to the staffs, Aaron. " She called out. "And they know the cue. When you start blasting at the gate, they will too."

"Great. Swell. We'll be putting enough energy into this thing to make sand melt and build glass houses for everybody in town." Aaron walked up to the front of the gate and watched Harvey and Henna scurry around, getting staffs and charms into place.

"You've oiled the staffs, Henna?" he asked nervously. "And it works?"

"All the ghosts say they can contact their staffs and trigger their old magics." Henna replied. "Anytime you're ready, Aaron. They're already sitting on the staffs. "

"Or thereabouts." She added as she looked things over. "Actually, the staffs look like doughnut holders right at the moment. There's more than one wizard-ghost on each. They all want to help."

"Then the two of you get back out of range. The spell I want to try isn't more complicated than zapping a bug but I'm not drawing the sword until the last moment anyway." Aaron closed his eyes and stood in the front of the gate, looking determined.

"Try lying down in the grass with the sword already pointed at the gate. " Harvey called out as he backed away. Henna joined him as they got somewhere they hoped would be out of range. "That way you'll only have to touch the hilt at the last moment and not aim it, too."

"Good Idea." Aaron looked around at the circle of staffs surrounding the gate nervously. "OK, here goes nothing."

With that, Aaron laid down in the grass, aimed the sword at the gate and started his magic. "This'll only take a minute to set up." He said carefully. "Tell every to let loose when I drop my hand on the sword."

"They know." Henna yelled back at him. "Get on with it already!"

"Almost all of the ghosts are clustering right over top of him." She whispered to Harvey. "Most of them think he's about to explode and join them."

"Our little support group isn't all that confident, are they?" Harvey whispered back. "I wish I had time to dig a hole and hide in it myself."

Back at the gate, Aaron gulped a few times, made sure the wizardry he wanted to try was all in place, then reached over and put his hand over the sword.

"Go!" He screamed, then dropped his hand onto the other-world magic metal.

***

## chapter 53 dud dude dope

"And nothing happened at all?"

Aaron looked weakly up at Henna and Harvey from where he was lying on his back. "Nothing?"

"The gate defences kicked in. There was a glowing ball of light all around it, a small one that didn't even reach to where you were. All the magic, wizardry and my charm-magic disappeared when they hit it." Henna sounded a bitterly disappointed. "After a minute or two, we came down here and found you asleep in front of the gate, still under a mound of disappointed ghosts."

"Snoring like a baby." Harvey added. "The biggest magic blast ever seen around here in centuries and not a blade of grass got disturbed. The ghosts expecting a free ride are all very disappointed in you right now."

"Ghosts?" Aaron shook his head weakly. "Are they still here?"

"Yes. They're just as puzzled as you are." Henna stood beside the apprentice wizard and helped Harvey haul him to his feet. "And I've never seen a puzzled demon-ghost before. It's quite a sight to see, really. They keep zipping between you, the sword and the gate like they were carrying messages."

"Some of them are hopping up and down." She added. "Furiously. It's weird."

"What spell did you try, anyway?" Harvey was very disappointed and it showed in his face. "It sure didn't do anything, whatever it was."

"The standard gate-opening spell, Harvey. The same spell I got from all the journals I read last week." Getting up off the ground was a slow process, but with two people helping him, Aaron the apprentice managed it, finally.

"The secret spell that opens the gate isn't really very secret. Almost any apprentice could do it." Aaron smiled weakly at Henna. "And knows it. Not hard, and I thought it best to start with simple tricks."

"Backed by enough power to reduce the town to rubble." Aaron continued on wearily as he staggered a bit under the weight of the wizard. "Thanks to that stupid outworld sword. Next time I stick to my staff."

"Think the other wizard-ghosts around here got anything useful out of this?" Harvey asked, looking at the flattened ring of wizard staffs surrounding the gate. Being inside the defence ring, they'd gotten blown down by whatever the gate had done repulsing the magic and wizardry thrown at it. "Half of them were gathering information, weren't they?"

"Or supposed to be trying to get some." Aaron agreed. He shook his head again, then bent over and picked up the sword. "Anything, really. Some of those staffs have been trying to break the gate for centuries now. They and their ghosts were keen to get anything done."

"You're surrounded with demon-ghosts again, Aaron. Be careful." Henna stuck in quickly. "Don't go anywhere near the staffs carrying that sword, the wizard-ghost riding it will get swarmed under."

"You ask the ghosts around here if they got anything, then. Even if they're still attached to their staffs." Aaron walked over to the bewildered-looking horse watching the whole scene and stuck the sword back in the saddle. "See if Marvin has anything useful to say today too."

"Lemme see..." Harvey started walking around the gate, picking up staffs from the ground as he went, with special attention to Aaron's staff. "We had history, character and fire-impact wizards surrounding the gate. Or at least their old staffs, backed up by ghosts interested in helping us out."

"Betcha we didn't get a blasted thing out of it." He grumbled, moving around and gathering an armful of old wizard staffs. "The defence magic tripped in way too fast for them to learn anything. Half of the ghosts here were waiting for a free energy blast and they got nothing. Nobody knows what the demon-ghosts are up to yet."

"Henna? Anything?" Aaron wandered over to the far side of the gate and looked towards town. It looked like a long walk back to his cage, and Aaron wasn't looking forward to it.

"Marvin says you fell asleep because you put too much energy into the sword too fast." The small red-haired witch looked around her and at the invisible flying ghosts in puzzlement. "The rest of the ghosts are still trying to decide what just happened. They're a little disappointed they didn't get a free energy rain to bath in."

"Mostly they think you hit the gate in a quiet moment and the old defence spells just kicked in. Most of them are bored, but can wait a while longer for the big boom." She added a few seconds later. "Your big boom. They still expect one. Oh, and the demon-ghosts are checking the staffs out now too. Nobody knows why, or what they're getting out of it. Nobody can understand anything they say yet."

"So, basically, we reduced to sneaking a bite out of this as it runs by." Aaron sounded tired and started the weary trudge back towards Harvey's bookstore. "How barbaric. Well, lets get back and digest whatever the wizard-ghosts with us have to say about this."

"Business as usual." Harvey grumbled in a gloomy tone. "A complete dud."

"They do have a lot to say." Henna added. "Especially the staff wizard-ghosts. Not anything we can use, but they are talking a lot. Even if they were shut out completely from getting anywhere."

The short trip back to town was done mostly in silence, with the horse carrying the magical supplies, staffs and the sword making most of the noise.

Apparently, the wizardly items tickled. The horse was skittish the whole trip back and needed constant management to stop from turning and watching the magic on his back instead of the road in front of him.

There was another surprise when they got back to Harvey's bookstore.

Mindy was waiting for them.

***

## chapter 54 oldtime native magics

"Of course I came by. You have every ghost in the whole country heading here. I wanted to see what all the excitement was about."

Mindy was still dressed as a native healer, complete with fringes on her leather coat and was dragging around the old witch of the mountain and her kittens with her too.

"Plus I could see the explosions as you two walked across the plains. They were interesting. Wow. You can't move for ghosts in this town right now." She murmured, looking around in disbelief. "Man, I hope they keep being friendly."

"Not all of them, but the demon-ghosts seem to be keeping the rowdies in line." Aaron looked the small native witch over and scratched his head. "Say Mindy, can we talk you into helping us out too? Wanna help me try to open the gate?"

"Everyone else is." He finished up weakly. "Whattya say, Mindy? Want to help out?"

"No haunting. Damn, I was hoping to see the whole town running from an invasion of zombies. Or something like that." Mindy looked a little pensive, then cheered up. "Hey, I still might. A ghost that just went thru a wizard-blast isn't always a happy ghost. Your wizardry didn't do anything out there today? No explosions, no gate-burble, nothing?"

"Nothing. Gate defence kicked in and shut everything down, including whatever we had set up to record anything." Harvey leaned on the door of his bookstore and sighed. "Blast. You're another free-loader, aren't you? And you want to stay here, right?"

"Staying here beats sleeping on the grass." Mindy said, with a small grin on her face. She motioned at the old witch of the mountain, who was standing nearby holding the two kittens and Blackpaw, her familiar. "Her too. You might even remember her, Harvey. She sure remembers you. Besides, all the traps set up on witch-mountain did a great job of killing off the game there. You could starve up there if you aren't careful."

"That's the old witch of the mountain?" Harvey looked at the crone dubiously. "You sure?"

"She's been talking about you for the last few days, Harvey." Mindy smirked at the bookseller, then turned to Henna. "A lot. She's still taking flower-oil too, plus a couple other things. Hasn't said a whole lot useful to me in a while now."

"She's sober?" Aaron leaned against the horse wearily. "That's news. I've never seen her sober before."

"Neither have I." Harvey grumbled, still staring at the old witch. "And I've known her for forty years. She's another sad victim of self medication, and a lot worse than usual because she knows which plants have the most kick to them."

"It happens occasionally." Henna leaned into Aaron and looked over at the old witch. "For some people, staying blasted is hard to resist."

"Like all the hovering ghosts here." Mindy waved a hand in front of her face, swatting at things only she could see. "They want to get blasted, too. They're so thick around you people I can hardly see. What say we go inside and talk for a while?"

"Lemme get inside and hide the silverware first." Harvey sighed and turned to his door. "Seriously. I'm going to need a few minutes in here alone first."

"The old girl there has real vague ideas about who owns what, especially when she's blasted. If she's the old witch of the Mountain. " Harvey grumbled on. "It got so bad I used to meet her at the tavern rather than bring her in here."

"Yeah, and those overnight stops were really something." The old witch woke up for a moment and leered at Harvey. "For both of us."

"Need any of my special oils, boy?" The old witch posed at Harvey for a moment, and there was a glimmer of the young girl come thru. The old witch, in her prime, would've been very well built and quite a looker.

Harvey flinched and didn't say anything. He just kept fumbling with the door to his shop, and ducked inside as soon as he got it open.

The old witch chuckled evilly at that. Henna and Aaron exchanged glances, then both turned on her. "Try anything and we'll take your supplies away." They said to her in unison. "And not give any back." Mindy added, looking at Aaron and Henna in surprise.

The old witch cringed, grabbed a small bag at her waist protectively, and looked around furtively. "I'll be good." She whined softly. "If he is." She nodded at the door. "Don't trust him, he's sneaky."

"But not as sneaky as I am." She finished, happy again.

"I'll be good, good as gold." She snapped out at the two witches glaring at her. "Unless it's chocolate. I have a weakness for that. Don't tell me about the chocolate and I'll be OK."

"That's one of the things I'm hiding." Came from the inside of the shop. Harvey hadn't gone far into his home and was still listening. "It's OK now, I'm finished triggering my protection spells. Anything I want to keep will be safe now."

"From anybody." Harvey stuck his head out the door and blinked at the crowd assembled on his doorstep. "Just be careful what you do in here, you might trigger something nasty." He added absently, opening the door a little. "Unless I hand it to you, it's not safe to touch anything now."

"That could make life interesting for me." Aaron sighed. "But we'll talk about that later. Right now I want to eat and sleep and that's about it."

"The rest of us will whup up a new battle plan, Aaron." Henna told the weary apprentice. Aaron cringed a little at that. "You had your shot, we get one now."

"Fine." Aaron didn't argue. "Get whatever you can from the ghosts and make a plan with a couple witches in it. I'll tell you if it's even possible when I wake up."

"Oh, we have lots of help now." Henna smiled up at the apprentice. "Mindy is going to help us out too."

"Aren't you?" Henna turned and grinned at the new witch of the mountain. "You want to see the ghosts invade this town like nothing ever has before, don't you? Fully energized?"

Mindy didn't even blush. "Yeah." She chuckled out. "And I don't think your boy there has a hope of getting the gate open. If my magic makes for a bigger blast when he goes, I'm all in."

She grinned at the wizard. "This suits me fine. Let's get something serious going here."

"Dandy. Wake me when you're got a plan." Aaron stumbled thru the door and headed off to his anti-magic cage. "Just keep the sword away from her, Harvey. She might be able to use it. Somehow."

"Sword?" Mindy asked Henna as everyone trooped into the shop. "What sword?"

"Right there on the counter-top." Came from the old witch as she rambled in, giggling. Harvey winced and looked pained. "That was the first time, right there. Such a nice young guy, too."

"Start talking to our other help." Henna quietly whispered to Mindy, after they looked at the old witch and exchanged knowing glances. "And get filled in on what's happening. I've got a few things to take care right now." She nodded at the horse standing patently in the street behind them.

Henna took the horse around the shop and took off a few saddle bags. Harvey sighed and motioned everyone else in, then closed the door.

***

## chapter 55 battle plan two

Aaron woke up the next morning to find himself surrounded by smirking witches.

"Need another sponge-bath, Aaron?" Mindy called out from whatever mysterious things she was doing with the collection of staffs. Henna blushed a little. "I'm sure one of us could accommodate you if you think you're dirty."

"Even if you're not." The old witch of the mountain looked sulkily up from where she was sitting in a chair, taking notes from an invisible person. She was still talking to ghosts, obviously. "Somebody tell this stupid apprentice to get his magic in gear." she grumbled. "And head back to the gate where he belongs, too."

"Ignore her. We took her meds away and she's not happy anymore." Henna told Aaron. "We're doing fine right here."

"Sure. I wonder what Harvey has to say about that." Aaron sputtered out, stretching and wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Hey, Mindy. Henna, did anyone out anything useful?"

The old witch of the mountain snorted. "These ghosts... all of them, even the demon ones... are boring me to death, telling me their stupid life stories. Most of they are variations of 'I worked hard and the gate killed me.'"

The old witch was not happy with her chore and was still busy listening to some invisible ghost. "I haven't learned anything useful from any of them." She griped. In a whiny tone. "Or heard anything interesting yet."

"Useful like where we hid her stash. Mindy and I came up with a few tricks while you were asleep, Aaron." Henna offered calmly. She was busy mixing up oils at a small table covered in various vials. "I miss my skulls." She complained as she held a small bottle of oil to the light and carefully added a few drops of another oil to it. "They make doing this kind of work fun."

"Only if you're being watched by bandits and other dummies." Mindy stuck in sarcastically. "I've found a couple more staffs that might be useful, Aaron. Even if you don't like them I can get your mistress to order to use them."

"Ah, no I can't." Henna said quietly. She looked at Aaron and blushed. "Or at least I don't think I can anymore."

"That part of the geas fell off yesterday?" Aaron perked up and looked interested. "So, I'm not a slave anymore. Anything else change while I was resting?"

"Yeah, a couple other things happened. My book-shop became the town center for practising witchery, that's what happened." Harvey stuck his head in the door of the room, looking grumpy. "These three went to market this morning and came back with enough customers to fill the place. Most of the town is lined up outside, pestering me for access to them now."

"Mindy got all show-off with her new kittens. " Henna explained. "Most of the town wants magic shows now, not magic."

"And only a couple of them are paying customers, too." A chicken flew by Harvey, landed squawking on the floor and stopped to peck at something there. "Shoo!" He snarled at it, and tried to kick it away. The chicken dodged him easily.

"People around here take things out in trade." He explained to Aaron. "There isn't much cash in this town, ever. Witches get paid in chickens and veggies, not money, and I get stuck with the results."

"Hey, you won't have any problem feeding us now." Mindy said evenly, rattling staffs along one wall. "Stop complaining, Harvey."

"Yeah. You never complained about taking it out in trade before." The old witch cackled evilly as Harvey looked at her, groaned and backed out of the room blushing. "Not to me, anyway." She called out after him.

"OK, things are about normal around here then. So what's your new plan and how does it get me killed?" Aaron asked carefully as he looked around at the witches surrounding him. Most of them were ignoring him and busy at their tasks. "Do I get any say in this?"

"We think your geas has changed, and I won't let Mindy make any more changes. She wanted to try some additions last night, Aaron." Henna opened the door to the cage and handed some breakfast to where Aaron was sitting groggily on a small cot.

"I'm really OK now? Free?" Aaron took the bread and cheese gratefully from Henna. "Really?" He looked at her carefully.

"You have been for a while now. Remember your last sponge bath?" Henna whispered to him. "How many times did I tell you to 'Stop that!'?"

"And what did you do?" she asked him, grinning.

Aaron paused, thinking hard. "Oh, yeah. I guess it has." He winked at Henna. "Just the old-school magic left now. And there's been no more changes?" He asked, looking suspiciously over at Mindy. She grinned back at him from where she was still studying staffs.

"Couldn't change you again if I wanted to." Mindy said cheerfully. "Well, not without killing you in the process. Probably. You've gotten into too 'way many magics recently for me to even try." She added as Aaron stared at her again.

"The demon-ghosts laid some sort of spell on you yesterday." Henna added. "She doesn't want to mess with it, as nobody has ever seen a ghost make magic before, let alone a demon one. That, plus ley-lines, my oils, her changes, the geas-shift when you hit the gate, your new wizardry..."

"Yeah. All in all, you look like you're gonna explode soon no matter what happens." Mindy stuck in. "Your geas seems to want to make you run faster now. If at first you don't succeed, try harder." She kept on, still sorting staffs. She had a small pile of them beside her now, the ones she wanted to re-read. "Till you blow up, that is."

"And that's gonna be soon, from what I can tell." She added, after a careful look at Aaron. "It's kind of hard to say with all the ghosts messing with you right now."

"We only have a week or two till you start getting desperate about getting the gate open, Aaron." Henna seemed sad at that, and a little panicky. "And your desperate measures might get a little too explosive."

"We could always knock him out." Mindy stuck in. "He'd probably try magic the second he woke up again, or maybe even before, but we could always try that."

Both kittens came into the room then, spotted the chicken and tore off after it. The chicken tried to hide behind the row of staffs, and all of them got knocked over with a resounding clatter of falling wood.

Aaron ignored the noise and watched with interest as sparks and feathers flew. The kittens had sparks flying off them every time they came near the cage, and they were both avoiding it as much as possible.

The chicken bolted from the room, all three cats in hot pursuit now.

Harvey started yelling and complaining about the traffic from where he was hiding in the store-front a few seconds later.

"Don't worry, we got a couple of them this morning." Mindy said absently as she squatted down and kept up her examination of the wizard staffs. "By the way, we're having chicken for lunch."

"So are my cats. If you want any..." She mentioned as Henna reached for another staff. "You'd better get up and get that one away from them. Or what's left of it."

***

## chapter 56 strike two

"The demon spell is weird. It seems to do something to my metal-magic." Aaron looked over the remains of the lunch-table, filled with plates of roasted chicken and fresh buns.

The table was busy and everyone was hungry. The old witch of the mountain was trying to play footsie with Harvey and not giving up very easily. Harvey snarled at her occasionally and had moved as far away as he could.

Mindy and her cats...(All of which had come around to say a warm head-butting hello and purr after Aaron had gotten out of the cage. They didn't like his chain-mail shirt a whole lot, but were prepared to tolerate it.) Were holding reign at one end of the table, with Henna and Aaron along one side, Harvey and the old witch on the other and far end of the table was butted up against a window into the kitchen.

Harvey was enjoying the food tremendously, far more than anyone else. It appeared no-one but him had cooked for the old bachelor in years, and even having to fight off the old witch hadn't stopped him from digging in enthusiastically.

Henna dimpled at him occasionally while Mindy just concentrated on getting as much food inside her as she could. So did her cats, who had the floor staked out as their territory and were begging for bones, meat-scraps and whatever else they could scrounge.

"There wasn't really much food up in the mountains, Aaron." Henna whispered to him as the crowd dug in. Aaron glanced around. The old witch was attempting to feed Harvey from her plate now and Harvey was busy fighting a losing battle. "Besides, everyone here is tired of field rations and travel food. Especially me."

"Yeah. Me too." Aaron dug into his own plate happily. "What did we find out last night? Had Mindy gotten something I missed in those staffs?" He asked around mouthfuls.

"Just that you're an idiot." Mindy gnawed another mouthful of chicken off a bone at her end of the table, swallowed, sighed happily and handed off the remains to her cats. "Here. Be careful of the soft bones." She murmured to the kittens. "You took everything that looked like force or information in those staffs and set them up, Aaron. You missed everything that tried to weasel changes instead of hammering them." She mentioned that carefully.

"You mean the teaching-staffs?" Aaron looked a little disgusted and glared at Mindy. "I saw them and skipped their tricks. Why get weird education theories going on your first try? I'm here to open the gate, not try to teach it new stuff."

"Teach it, cure it, trick it into dancing into a new connection... It's all the same to me." Mindy nodded at a far wall, where a new collection of staffs were leaning, waiting to get used. "Smarten up, boy. Power didn't work, so now we try treachery."

"Ack. I never want to see this girl move into town." Harvey grumbled as he reached for another piece of chicken from a plate in the middle of the table. "We have enough trouble from politicians around here as it is. And priests."

"She's a girl, playing politics is second nature to her." The old witch grinned at Harvey as she snuck a mushroom off Harvey's plate. He snarled at her again and slashed a little too late with his fork at her. "You've obviously never tried to run herd on a group of stupid kids that think hammering at something is the best way to get things done."

"Or warriors. Or bandits." Mindy added. "Treachery works, trust me. Anyway, I've got a few things set up. Next time you go out to wiz the gate open, there's a few spells to add to the mix."

"And what do I do, try to get the gate to relay insights back to us? Dance?" Aaron seemed a little disturbed. "Pray to higher powers for help? Ask someone to teach me something, or learn what?"

"What can the gate teach you? You may not get any choice about that." Henna sighed and patted her belly happily. "You're asking for it there. Your latest mods are first, Aaron. Whatever the demon-ghosts did to you. No one can make any sense of what the demon-spell is, or how it does things. Or what it does. Without you telling us, we won't even know what the gate-spell does."

"And I'm a little vague on what their meddling does myself." Aaron sighed and motioned at the metal bowl holding the chicken, muttering a small spell. The bowl split evenly in two, half of it easing up and flying over to him. Aaron took a piece of chicken from it and watched sadly as the half-bowl flew back and re-joined the other half seamlessly, all without spilling a drop of the slopping gravy.

The whole operation looked like the dividing of a sea, in miniature. The cats and everyone else watched the whole operation with interest.

"That wasn't as impressive as it looks. The problem is, I was after a bun, not the bowl." Aaron grumbled in a peeved tone, nodding at the fresh chicken. "My wizardry took on a life of it's own as soon as it left me and that got me this." He waved the chicken around in a disgusted manner.

"Swell, you're worse off than before, now your wizardry does what it wants to, not what you spell out. Great." henna groaned a little and patted her belly again. "Listen, Aaron, this is the plan. You study the demon-spell and your wizardry while the rest of us try to think up ways to snoop, teach or heal the gate into behaving." Henna didn't seem too disturbed by Aaron's misdirected magic. She tilted her head and looked up at him, her red hair flashing in the sun. "You don't trust the demon-ghosts very much, do you? Any ideas on how to ask them what they did to you?"

"I don't trust witchcraft in general." Aaron replied grumpily. "No wizard does. If I thought oiling the gate with some magical ghost-talking oil would've helped things, I would've done it myself before I even started trying anything out there."

"Hey, that may be just what we need. Gate-oil. You've read the journals. You know what the other apprentices have tried. Was there anything like that in there?" Harvey was still staring at the newly whole bowl in fascination, like he didn't trust it anymore. "And do me a favor; don't try any more wizardry anywhere but your cage." He added. "I want my house to stay in one piece."

"Lots of nails here, are there?" Mindy reached over and snagged a bun. She then tossed it to Aaron who clumsily caught it, nodded his thanks and bit down into it. "Iron, bleck. That might make some trouble for my work."

"Not really. The beams interlock and most of the rest of this place is pegged together." Aaron looked around the room in general way. "There are a couple nails, but the stonework here hides them fine."

"Oh, the house charms. I've seen the horseshoe nailed up in the stable." Henna reached over and took Aaron's bun, daring him to protest with a happy little grin at him. Aaron just sat there looking mildly irked, but didn't protest.

"There probably isn't a whole box of real iron nails in the whole town, Mindy. Too expensive and swords are more useful. There aren't. Trust me." Aaron rescued the remains of his mangled bun from Henna and bit into it. "There are some weapons and a blade or two around. This chain-mail shirt I'm wearing is actually most of the loose metal in town, after a couple charms and some horse shoes."

"That's good to know." Murmured Mindy happily. "It makes it easier to destroy the whole place." She started as everyone stared at her. "Hey, come on. You know I want to bring the buffalo back."

"Buffalo? He's hiding in the grass outside town?" Aaron asked after pausing a bit. "That's good thinking, there. He's a month's worth of meals on the hoof. I hope no one notices him."

"They better not, or there'll be a few less hunters in this town. He's protected with a couple of the nastier traps I learned up on the mountain." Mindy looked grim as she said that.

"So you, Aaron try to talk to demons and generally find out anything we might need to know about the spell they put on you. Experiment in your cage for a while. I'm working the staffs for magic we can use, and Henna is doing the witchcraft with the old girl here." Mindy looked calm, even after renewing her threat to destroy the town. Her magical kittens milled around her feet, purring happily.

Harvey looked up in distress from where he was being pestered by the old witch of the mountain. She'd gotten a laugh out of him from something or other and he was looking more and more nervous about it.

"I've got books to read." He said determinedly, getting up from the table rapidly and prying himself out of the old witch's hands. "Private ones you kids don't know about. Observer journals. I'll be in my room." With that, Harvey ran from the room, leaving a very disappointed looking witch of the mountain sitting at the table.

"Betcha he's give me my stash back right now." She mock-whispered to Mindy, watching Harvey leave regretfully. "And almost anything else I asked for."

"You leave Harvey alone. We couldn't do this without him." Henna scolded the old witch. "Get something useful done and we'll give you something distracting tonight."

"And stay out of the taverns. Your usual tricks would get lynch-mobs here after us, not paying customers." Mindy eyed the old witch carefully. "You're out front in the shop today, collecting chickens for removing warts. That's all. Got that?"

"Nothing else." Mindy looked at the other two in surprise. "Hey, no harm in making a little money while we're here."

"Right?" She asked in puzzlement. Aaron and Henna were both still staring at her. "Right?"

***

## chapter 57 strike

"I'm sorry the old witch found the Upwood, Harvey, but there wasn't a lot we could do about it last night. We didn't know till this morning what she'd done."

Henna tried to sound sincere about it, but kept breaking out in giggles as she apologized to a weary bookseller. The four of them were walking back to the gate for another try after a day of planning their latest combined attempt to open the gate again. The old witch of the mountain had been pestering Harvey all night and fairly successfully from the looks of it. "It didn't sound like distress up there anyway. It sounded like fun." She added, putting her hand over her mouth and smothering something silly.

"Most of it." Aaron added absently. "Except for the yelping from certain unnamed people. You're walking with a limp now, Harvey." He added critically as he looked over at his distressed friend. "Maybe she was too hard on you."

"I still think you could've rescued me." Harvey groused, yawning hard and stretching. "Nobody helped me at all and she kept me awake all last night."

"Ha. From the sounds of it, you were the one keeping her awake." Mindy had a grin on her face, and she was pouting hard. "Besides, it was good for her. I've never seen her so relaxed and peaceful. That's bonus around here."

"She's tired, not happy." Harvey corrected. He looked back at the old witch of the mountain, who was behind them, following the group with a small silly grin on her face. "And I lock the door to my room tonight. She'd not getting away with that again."

"Betcha I do, Harvey." Promptly shot from the old witch. She was grinning at him again. "Remember the counter-top, that's what I say." Remember the counter-top!"

Harvey winced and groaned. "She's never going to forget that one. If she's been telling you stories, I deny everything." Harvey put a stern look on his face and facing forward, marched determinedly towards the gate. "It's all malicious lies."

"Good malicious lies, if that's what they are." Mindy was giggling again, and kept giving the old bookseller sidelong glances. "You want to hear a few of them?"

"Anybody?" She asked as everyone stayed more or less silent. Harvey was blushing now. "They are good stories." she added to Henna. "Honest."

"Later." Henna whispered to her. "Today we concentrate on oiling the gate up, please."

"This is a stupid idea." Aaron looked the collection of magic on the horse he was leading by the reins mournfully. "Ghost oil. Teaching staffs. A healing spell. A magic sword. Me and my staff. Not a wizardly combination at all. And I'm supposed to do what, try to blast open the gate again?"

"Just spell the gate open. Use the blasted sword in one hand, your staff in the other. If you have time, two tries." Henna leaned into Aaron and grinned at him. "And the energy. I'll give you another sponge-bath tonight if you do real well."

"If I do real well I'll have dumped all this magic and gotten the gate open." Aaron scratched at his chain-mail. "I'm taking all this metal junk stuff off before I try anything this time." He grumbled. "Not that I know what the demon magic changes will do to me or the gate, but I'm going to try it."

"You're going to use the sword again?" Harvey looked at the magic sword strapped to the side of the horse. "Or is Mindy going to try it today?"

"Letting Mindy try out a magic barbarian sword sounds like the dumbest thing in the world to do. For all I know, it only works for guys." Aaron looked over at Mindy, who was marching quietly beside them. "Besides, if it does work, it'd disappear into the grass along with both witches of Witch Mountain fast."

Aaron stayed glaring at Mindy He's caught her trying to get at the magic-sword twice now and the young native witch was totally unrepentant about it.

The wards Harvey house had had stopped her from being able to touch the sword. Henna said the demon-ghosts were also making a fuss anytime Mindy moved towards it now.

"Where's Marvin these days?" Aaron asked Henna. "I haven't heard anything from him in a while now."

"He's busy talking to all the ghosts around here. It looks like fog around us right now." Henna mentioned quietly. "He says there have never been so many ghosts here, or so many kinds of them."

"They are really thick around us." Mindy added, after looking around a bit. "They do make a fog. A boiling one, made of small glowing balls, but a roiling fog of helpers."

"They seem to really like you too, Aaron." She added absently. "Or at least that stupid sword."

"There's mostly demon ghosts around us. We're getting an honor escort, and so is the sword." Henna giggled. "The rest of the pack is following them or already at the gate. Most of the demon-ghosts are taking turned popping in and out of your ears, Aaron. They're really trying to tell you something, from the looks of it."

"Swell." Aaron shook his head sadly and tapped his staff on the ground impatiently. "And I couldn't make head or tail of whatever they did to me. There's no good way to say what's going to happen when I try to wiz the gate today. Not with my powers, not in their current state. Not with their meddling added to whatever else has happened to me."

"So you're not going to use the sword today, just your staff." Harvey looked over at the wizard. "You do know that their spell might be nothing at all and what you're going thru is just a normal apprentice power-flux, right?" He added carefully. "Unstable apprentice power is normal. Very normal. And extra sensitivity is too." He added to Henna.

"The geas to open the gate still drives me. All I know is, I've got to get to the gate and try something. Anything." Aaron marched along in a gloomy way kicking at the grass clumps on the road. "And hope I don't blow up in the process." He added. "I have no choice. The geas is still driving me."

"Demon-magic, blast. Everyone likes to mess with my geas, and it could get unstable." he grumbled on. "Could get unstable? Ha. I am unstable now. It could get messed up beyond repair, more likely. No telling what that would do. I could turn into someone who has a compulsion to walk thru any door he sees after today. Or there'd be a gate I have to walk thru every chance I get."

"We'll worry about that when it happens. Mindy says her spell has gone completely." Henna kept leaning into Aaron as they walked, one arm wrapped around him. "So has the ley-line stuff. There's just demon-magic on you now and your geas and your new wizardry. Just think sponge-bath, Aaron. Sponge-bath. It'll stop you from worrying."

"But I'm supposed to worry about this." Aaron groused, putting his arm around the small witch and hugging her gently. "I call it thinking, remember?"

"Well, the time for thinking has past. We're here." Harvey looked around the small area of plains surrounding the gate. "And it looks like the gate has been sort of stable for the last few days. We're safe right now, anyway. I hope."

"Ha. That just means it's due for a surprise blast." Mindy offered. "This thing never stays quiet for very long. Even I know that."

"Harvey, you set the staffs up. Mindy, get your spells ready. Henna, you oil the gate." Aaron sighed and started peeling the chain-mail shirt off after jamming his staff into the ground in front of him. "Old witch, you stay back and watch for whatever we miss. I'm staying in front of the gate." Henna stopped and helped him tug the chain-mail shirt over his head.

"I'm going to get try-two ready. I really want the gate to start working today." Aaron added, woofing happily as the metal came off him. "Man, that feels better. This is going to get very dangerous. I can feel an urge to cut loose and hit this thing with everything I've got building in me."

"Try to suppress that. Concentrate on the gate-opening spell. A gentle one." Henna suggested. Then she took a small bottle of oil, opened it and putting a cloth over the top, shook the bottle carefully. Then Henna wandered over to the stone arch and started patting the old stones with the oily rag, smearing ghost-oil over the old stones.

"Both sides." Harvey called out from where he was jamming staffs into the ground in a wide circle around the gate. "Are the right ghosts riding these staffs?" He asked in puzzlement. "I can't tell. Are they ready or not?"

"They are." Henna called out. "Or Marvin says they are. The ghosts are ready to help any way they can."

"He's back." She told Aaron. "And Marvin says 'good luck' too."

"We might need it. Mindy, are you ready?" Aaron called out, after positioning himself in front of the gate, still scratching vigorously at where the chain mail had been chafing him. He looked around nervously. "Harvey? Henna? Mindy? Old witch? Everyone ready?"

"I got the sword stuck in the ground over here behind you." Harvey called out. "It's grounded now." Henna moved away from the gate and went over to where Harvey was heading towards the horse, behind Aaron. Mindy was on the opposite side of the Gate with a determined look on her face. She was also making small gestures with her hands as she prepped her magic.

"Two seconds." She called out. "OK, ready when you are, Drop your hand when you want me to start, wave, something like that."

Small tendrils of magic started leaving the new witch of the mountain and weaving their way towards the gate in a growing spiral. It looked a lot like an octopus made from the ley-line magic Aaron had seen before growing out of her spread hands.

"You, the gate and the sword are all surrounded by demon-ghosts now, Aaron." Henna called out, from where she was standing behind the sword stuck blade-first in the ground. "Lots of traffic between you and the gate, too. There's so many demon-ghosts flying around now it's hard to see you at all."

"OK, here goes." Aaron raised his hand. "On the count of three." He shouted, raising his staff over his head in one hand. "One! Two! Three!"

Aaron dropped his staff pointing at the gate, and threw the gate-opening spell directly at it as he did, a little stronger than he intended, but the spell zipping in a straight line directly at the gate.

Henna behind him, threw a small, oil-smeared rock thru the arch as he did. It went thru the gate a second after Aaron's spell hit it. Mindy's magic hit from the other side of the stone and wrapped the old stone with as much power as she could find out here; blue electricity seemed to crackle between the staffs circling the gate, Aaron and Mindy.

The sword stayed stuck in the ground, arching with power and sparking mightily.

No one was really prepared for what happened next.

***

## chapter 58 demon-magic

The gate defences blasted out power enough to flatten the circle of staffs again, knocking both Aaron and Mindy flat on their backs in the process.

The energy flow escaping the gate shrugged off Mindy's best efforts, then ballooned upwards, moving more like a cloud of escaping vapor mushrooming up than anything else.

Small tendrils of power and magic peeled from the small cloud now hovering over the gateway and lashed around carefully, checking out the staffs, Mindy and Aaron before carefully before centering on the sword stuck in the ground.

"Whoo, sparkly!" Came from the old witch from where she was sitting on the grass watching everything. "Do it again!"

"Aaron, every demon here is headed towards the gate!" Henna called out. "They're doing something, too! I can't tell what, there's too many of them to see what's going on!"

"Swell." Aaron shook his head a little and tried to get up from where the gate-blast had thrown him on his back. "Whew. Draining. All of a sudden I don't want to mess with this thing anymore today." He held onto his staff tightly and stayed lying down just outside the defences bubble of the gate.

"I never did." Grumbled Mindy as she got up from the grass. "This was all your idea. But hey, look! The gate isn't killing us, it's busy trying to do something."

"Weird. I wonder what that mess up there is all about." She added, nodding at the crackling energy cloud over the arch. "Whatever it is, it's still doing things up there. Or trying to."

Then the gate belched out a small yellow and blue cloud from it's top. The colored bubble rapidly expanded and disappeared into magical haze as it grew.

That was all it did. The gate quieted down and became a simple stone arch again. It wasn't even warm around it.

"What just happened?" Aaron raised his head looked around at the circle of flattened staffs and the crouching couple behind him. "Everyone lived thru that, right?"

"If I didn't, I want a recount." The old witch cackled from where she was still sitting, giggling at something. "This isn't even interesting anymore."

"Holy, holy, holy. The gate sent something thru to us." Henna said in awe as the scanned the top of the gate. "It's another demon-ghost. A big one."

"Swell. Just what we need, more stuff we don't understand. " Aaron looked around the gate again. Most of the grasslands still looked like fresh grasslands out there. The horse had broken it's tether and was galloping rapidly away, and the sound of it's pounding hoofs was fading in the distance.

"Is the gate doing anything else?" He asked, brushing dirt off his backside as he got up and used his staff to hobble around. "Well, anything happening I can understand, that is." He added that as Henna stayed staring at something only she and Mindy could see.

"Wow. The other demon ghosts are bowing to it. The new ghost here." Mindy sounded peeved about something. "And the new boy is busy snooping about, checking out the sword, the gate and you."

"That energy blast, whatever it was, went right thru the ghosts. Nobody got boosted up to haunting level or anything. None of the other ghosts here got anything out of that, demon energy, I think." She added in disappointment. "My stuff got brushed aside like it was nothing. We didn't affect it. This stuff doesn't effect us. No change in anything except for the new fella floating around."

"Wait a second! Something came thru! Aaron, is your geas gone? Is the gate fixed?" Henna asked that in excitement. "Whoo! Are you cured?"

Aaron tried motioning at the gate briskly. Nothing seemed to happen. "No." He said in obvious disappointment. "It isn't open. This was just another leak, a gate-burble of some kind. The gate isn't fixed yet."

"And I still feel like hurling my best spells at it." He added after a moment or two of standing there looking inward. "Blast. I didn't fix it."

"But we did something, that's for sure." Harvey slowly got up from where he was hiding in the grass. "Myself, I'm going after the horse before he runs all the way home. Someone has to, unless you want to carry all this stuff back."

"Here, I'll do that." Mindy made a few small gestures and stared off into space. Everyone heard the horse neigh in response. It was a fair distance away already.

"He'll be back in a few minutes, just let him calm down for a while." The native witch groused quietly, looking at them in disgust. "Blast. Nothing. And I was sure we'd get a lot more out of this today."

"Your shields didn't seem to stop anything, Mindy." Henna mentioned absently. "Are you sure you want to stay this close to the gate next time? Your protections didn't work."

"No. But next time I'll know what to protect against." Mindy grumbled on, irked at something. "Even if the staffs didn't get anything, I did. That stuff was almost pure demon-energy." She added, brushing dirt and grass off her sleeves. "And a very focused energy at that. It was another spell of some kind."

"So what's our new visitor doing now, other than snooping about, Henna?" She grumbled on, striding towards Aaron. "Can you tell? What's Marvin say? And what's it doing to the sword?"

"Marvin says nothing. The new guy is doing nothing but check things out." Henna giggled as Mindy batted at something flying around her in annoyance. "He seems to like you now too, Mindy. He does like you, Mindy. A lot."

Aaron wandered over and picked up the sword, felling the now-familiar rush and tingle as it's magic started to work on his hand.

"That did something. Every demon-ghost around here is now focused on you Aaron." Henna said in puzzlement as she looked around. "Including the new boy."

"The new boy is a weird color." Mindy said, staring at something floating over Aaron's head carefully. "And he's spending his time going between the sword and you now."

"From the amount of time he's spending flying between your ears he's trying to tell you something." She added with a giggle. "Henna, hit your boy with a dose of ghost-oil. A big one. Let's see if we can get anything going."

Aaron stood still and let Henna smear oil on him with bad grace. "You both know that stuff stopped working on me a long time ago." He muttered angrily. "Why try more now? You want to oil my staff up too?"

"We can always hope." Henna said, stepping back a little. "Harvey already gave your staff a dose Aaron, so relax." She finished dabbing Aaron with oil. "Drink this, now. There. That's lots. Hold them both up so everyone can see. Can you feel anything?"

"Nope." Aaron lowered his arms and stayed with the sword in his hand and his staff in the other. "There's just a faint tickle to try something on the gate in me. Anything. It's like an itch that just got scratched, thou."

"Say, why did you throw that stone thru the gate anyway?" He asked Henna, eyeing her like she was always doing unexpected things. "That wasn't in the plan."

"I don't know." Henna wandered over to the far side of the gate, carefully not going thru the arch and picked up a small stone off the ground. "It just came to me, so I did it."

"That the stone? It's part of the arch, a chip that fell off sometime or other." Mindy came over and plucked the stone from Henna's hand, looking at it carefully, then handed it back. "Except for the oil on it, there's nothing special about it at all." She said bitterly.

The horse slowly came back towards the group then, cautiously and carefully. It seemed reluctant to get any closer than it had to, and stayed back more or less with the old witch of the mountain.

"Well, time to saddle up, go home and work on a new plan." Harvey grumbled, starting a slow walk around the gate, picking up staffs as he went. "Unless you three want to wait around here and see if the gate tries to kill you now, or have another try at it."

"No, I'm good. The gate is already doing enough weird things for us to puzzle out." Aaron sighed and stretched, thumping his staff wearily on the ground. "Let's go home."

"The new demon-ghost is following Aaron around. Or maybe the sword. Let me try something." Henna took the sword from Aaron's side and walked towards the horse.

"Nope, it's the sword it's interested in." Mindy reported, almost instantly. "But it is zipping back to Aaron occasionally too. Now the old witch."

"The new demon ghost is fascinated with the old witch of the mountain, the sword and Aaron. Nobody else is getting a whole lot of attention right now." Henna said in a disappointed tone. Mindy sniffed and looked at the old girl closely for a moment.

"Probably just the demon-weed she's been eating." Mindy said in a disgusted tone. "It likes her belly. There's lots of it over there."

"So let's get home and see what we came up with today." Aaron picked up his chain-mail shirt and slipped back into it. Then he picked up a few more fallen staffs with Harvey and headed towards the horse, who'd stopped a little distance away from the gate, outside the burn zone. "Before anybody else tries something on me today." He added gloomily.

***

## chapter 59 planning to plan plans

Aaron pushed the dinner plate back and sighed relief. "I'm burnt. Tried." He muttered in a dull tone. "Exhausted, full and I want to sleep. I need the cage in case I try any sleepwalking magic and that's where I'm headed right now. Is there anything else we discovered today that everyone should know about?"

"Nope. The staffs and their ghosts are still talking with Marvin, thou." Henna offered. "Nothing has come up yet, except what we already know. Your spell was attracted to the gate. It went off with demon energy and a new demon ghost came thru, as a burble of some sort. The new demon is hanging around the people here, the sword and not doing anything we can figure out."

Mindy nodded agreement with Henna's summary. "Other than that, nothing apprentice. The learning, teaching, healing and applied trickery spells I set up had no effect." She added. "Neither did anything else." Was added with extreme reluctant as everyone looked at her. "Nothing did anything today, except demon-magic."

"I wonder what would've happened if you'd used the sword instead of the staff." Harvey mused. He was being kept occupied by a pestering old witch of the mountain, except he was looking more comfortable with it now. "It might've been interesting."

"The blast that did come out of the gate was bad enough, thanks." Aaron shuddered. "There is no reason to encourage it at all. There was plenty of staff-power in my opening spell today, even a demon-altered one."

"Woo-hoo. Sparkly." The old witch of the mountain bleared at the rest of the group happily from where she was sitting, munching her dinner and annoying Harvey between bites. "Do it again."

"You should try the demon weed sometime, you really should. It's wonderful." She added as her footsie with Harvey got a little extreme. Harvey started blushing as he squirmed as far away from her as he could. "It might even help. You never know."

"Ha. Bath time, Aaron." Henna got up from the table and grabbed a bowl. "Time to get things around here cleaned up. One or two sponges tonight?"

"One. Makes for better fights." Mindy giggled and snarked at a blushing Aaron. "Yah. You've got a real oily barbarian there." She snickered as she looked him over. "Have fun, but be careful, Henna. You really did over-do the oil on him."

"I need a bath before I can have a bath?" Aaron sighed wearily. "That figures."

"No, but me over-dosing on oil isn't a good thing. I'd likely become a permanent ghost-talker." Henna mentioned absently as she cleared the table. Harvey was sputtering protests at the old witch again and that looked like that was going develop into a fairly furious fight soon.

"Most ghost-talkers lose all interest in the real world." Mindy told Harvey in a quiet whisper. "Then they get weird. It takes a real effort to stay involved in the mundane stuff after you get spiritual."

"Drugged spiritual, that is. Natural ghost-talkers don't have the same problems." Henna sighed wearily. "Learning control while still in the cradle seems to help a lot. Not all witches are that lucky."

"Hey, why is the stone doing that?" Mindy looked across the table to where Henna still had the stone she'd thrown through the gate beside her plate. "Look. It's moving."

"Away from you, from the looks of it." Harvey tried to slap down the old witch's hands impatiently as he stared over at the small rock. "Are you trying anything on it? Anything magical at all?" He added as Harvey fought himself free from the old witch and tried to concentrate on what was happening.

"Actually, I am." Mindy looked puzzled. "But not on the stone. It's a calling spell. The one I use to check on Buffalo with."

"She gets lonely without me. I try to talk to her at least once a day, just to keep her happy." Mindy confessed to Henna. Henna had moved back to her place at the table and was watching the stone twitch carefully.

So was everyone else in the room.

"Marvin says the demon ghost, who happens to be sitting on the stone right now, is getting really upset." Henna reported. "Not that what he's saying makes any sense, but he is making a lot more noise than usual right now."

"For a ghost, that is." She added as the silence around the table deepened. "Trust me. He is doing something energetic." Harvey and Aaron exchanged glances.

"Try something else. Narrow this down a little. I'm going to go get the sword." Aaron said quickly. "I can feel it twitching too, for some reason. Henna, you check the stone out as much as you can with Marvin. Call in the other ghosts. Find out anything different about it, other than it being smeared with ghost oil."

"It looks a lot better now than it did." Henna offered as Aaron moved to the magically-locked cupboard that held the sword. "The oil brought out all sorts of colors in the stone. That's about it."

"Keep trying." Aaron got the sword out and held it in his hand, laying it on the table and still holding onto it carefully. "Yup. This thing is getting twitchy too. Definitely. OK, try calling to this stuff." He asked Mindy, who was still staring at the stone in a very puzzled way.

Mindy furrowed her brow and concentrated for a moment. The stone twitched and rolled away from her. Aaron looked at the sword in amazement.

"I felt it move. It was trying to get away." He mentioned carefully as he tightened his grip on it. "Mindy, what are you doing?"

"I'll let you know." The native witch whooshed and closed her eyes. "This is a slow and careful call spell, step by step. Let's see which part of my magic the stone doesn't like."

The stone shot away from the table, hit the wall and fell to the floor before Mindy's next move. Aaron looked at the twitching sword in his hand in amazement.

"Ah. Magic off-world metal here. Maybe there in the arch-stone, too. They don't trust you either?" He said weakly. Mindy looked annoyed at that, while Henna giggled and Harvey chuckled. "Heavens, I wonder why. But what's with the stone? Nothing else is moving, right?"

"OK, people. We have something to solve now, something we can play with." That came from the old witch of the mountain and everyone in the room started and looked at her in shock. She was almost never this coherent. "Something that won't kill whatsit's name there." She mumbled on. "Let's get on it."

The room stayed silent. This was close to the first sensible thing anyone had ever heard her say.

"So let's get busy, people." The old witch glared around at the rest of the startled room. "The faster we solve this, the faster I get back to my mountain." She added as people kept staring at her.

"There are things than Ayers coming into bloom right now." She mentioned as everyone kept staring at her. "And unless I get back there and harvest some, I won't get any of it year."

"You don't know all that's up there, I've been gardening the place for twenty years now. It's practically a crime against nature to waste this stuff." The old witch went on, staring at the small rock with real interest in her eyes.

"Oh." Henna picked up the stone up from the floor and put it back on the table. "We should move to the cage so Aaron can try his wizardry on this, too."

"Ok, Mindy. Try again and let us know what's going on." She said, putting the rock down again.

"You might not get your bath tonight, Aaron." She added in a quiet aside to Aaron. "But that won't save you for long. You really need one."

"Yes, dear. I know." Aaron picked up the sword and moved towards his cage. "I'll be prepping things. Harvey, can you get a few of the staffs set up to snoop for us?"

"It might take a while to solve this." The frustrated wizard said slowly. "I'll take any help I can get here."

"I hope not." Came from the old witch, who everyone distracted, had taken the opportunity to start molesting Harvey again. "Let's get this done fast. I have other important things to do tonight."

***

## chapter 60 round table

"This is frustrating, trying to find where the missing piece isn't." Harvey sat beside the cage and looked around like he was determined to get something done tonight.

"I hate you." The old witch glared at Harvey like he was something gooky stuck to the bottom of her slipper. "He gets like this every once in a while." She confided to the other two females in the room. "Abstract. But breaking his concentration is fairly easy. He's alright after that."

Harvey looked over at the small stone in a disgusted manner, ignoring the old witch of the mountain entirely. He glanced over at Aaron, who was sitting in his cage looking bored. "Magic is never easy, is it Aaron?"

"No, it isn't." Mindy sat with her arms folded, glaring at the two objects that were still refusing her magic. "My best guess is that the gate is made of the same off-world stuff the sword is." She grumbled. "There's no other reason for it to reject me like this."

"Hey, this means you couldn't use the sword even if I handed it to you." Aaron mentioned happily. "Now that's got to be frustrating."

"Oh, I won't say that." Mindy stayed glaring at the sword like it'd just refused a date. "I'll think of something. Eventually. So what's the new demon ghost doing?"

"I don't want to oil myself up tonight." Mindy mentioned to Henna. "I need to keep my thinking clear for this. And my magic."

"He just keeps zipping between the sword, the stone and Aaron's head." Henna said quietly, after glancing around. "Like he was trying to tell us something important. And Marvin says the other staffs aren't getting anything. This off-world stuff is fairly immune to their wizardry."

A massive explosive from far outside town shook the house then, rattling dishes and making the table shake.

"Wow. I think the gate just burbled." Aaron said quietly as he grabbed the side of his cage to steady himself. "A big one. It feels like the gate has been saving up a while for this one."

"To say the least." Harvey looked around at the dust dropping from various places in the ceiling sadly.

"Maybe it's somebody on the other side trying to get thru to us." Henna mentioned as she unsteadily released her grip on the table. "We've been pumping a lot of spells into the gate recently. They have to go somewhere. Maybe they want to get thru to us, too."

There was a minor, secondary explosion then. Not as fierce as the first but still a strong enough blast to be heard and felt in town, a long way from the gate.

"Maybe they are trying to get thru to us. I hope we survive it." Harvey sighed and laid his head on the table for a moment before perking up determinedly. "Ok, the gate is outworld material and rejects earth wizardry. The new demon-ghost is still dancing architecture nobody can figure out. And my neighbors are going to kill me in the morning."

He sighed and locking his hands together, stretched them over his head. "So I'm going to bed." Glaring at the old witch of the mountain, who just smiled sweetly at him, Harvey grimaced at her. "Alone." He snarled. "And I'm locking the door."

Grumping annoyance, Harvey peeled himself loose from the clutches of the old girl and headed upstairs. The old witch watched him go sadly.

"I wondered why the bedroom doors had locks on them." Henna said quietly as Harvey stomped upstairs.

"Inside locks, I betcha. Kids." Mindy said, equally quietly. "Nosy ones. Sleep does sound like a good idea, thou."

There was a thumping at the door just then. Someone was knocking hard at the shop door, demanding to be let in.

"Don't answer that." Harvey called from upstairs. "There isn't anybody in town who can get thru that door, trust me. Ignore them till morning." With that, Harvey stomped into his bedroom. You could hear him locking the door, right to the huge deadbolt he put across the inside of the door.

"Henna!" Came from the outside of the shop. "It's me! Open up!"

"That's Ali. My brother." Henna said in shock. "I wonder what he wants?"

"Is it? Let me go. I'll take care of this." Mindy smirked slightly to herself. "You two just run along."

"Let me introduce you. He needs to be warned this place is a wizard's house and everything is protected. He might not live till morning otherwise. I'll just let him in." Henna looked puzzled at the new intrusion, but smiled at Aaron happily. "And I'll introduce him to you later, in the morning. The water is heating already, Aaron. I'll be back in two minutes."

"Sounds fine." Aaron stayed staring at the sword in his hand. "The gate repels earth-magic." He muttered to himself. "And wizardry. How do I work around that?"

***

## chapter 61 magic songs

"That's what she was singing. One, two, three, abc."

"So you had to stop and listen." Aaron tossed the soggy sponge into a heating pot of water beside him and laid back on his cot. Henna giggled, picked it up, squeezed some water out and sat on his chest.

Aaron oofed happily and looked at the streaming pot of water beside the cot in the cage.

"Yes. Well, Marvin snoops too. And the staffs are all active and they yak a lot between themselves. It was tantric sex-magic she was teaching him. Mindy and Ali, wow. Ka-push, right?" Henna giggled again and swiped at Aaron's face with the sponge. He gagged as it slapped him. "Ka-push your life energy. My brother knows better than to argue with a witch when she's upset, so he's cooperating."

"Fine. Mindy has your brother under her spell." Aaron yawned heavily, then started as a surprised screech came from the upstairs bedroom. "Sounds like her. He won't be making any trouble?"

There was more noise come from Mindy's room. It sounded stressed. "Ah, does Ali like cats?" Aaron asked nervously.

"No." Henna smiled as more noise came from the upstairs bedroom. "But he will soon, I think."

There was more thumping come from a different part of the house. "Hey! How did you get in here?" Harvey bellowed, outraged at something in his distant room. There was a soft giggling sound coming from up there too. "How did you get in here?"

"Relief. One, connect forehead and crotch. Connect that to your partner, interlocking bodies and all that." Henna giggled happily and hit Aaron with the sponge again. Hot water slopped and he yelped.

"Relationships. Two, imaginary ball of light travels up your spine, you ka-pushing thoughts, feelings, energy out. Development. Big finish. Three, head-glow crotch connection, with your best."

"Swell. I don't want to know the ABC part of this." Aaron complained as he wiped water from his eyes. "Save it for tomorrow. Relief, relationship and development tonight is lots."

"You might want to hear about the 'Accept, ask, work.' part." There came another male screech from a different part of the house. It was a stranger's voice and Aaron cocked his head to listen.

"Or the 'Like, want, need, should.' stuff." Henna continued, ignoring the noise as she got up and started snuffing lamps out.

"That your brother up there?" Aaron asked Henna. "Or Mindy?" Henna nodded.

"Mindy keeps complaining about how stupid white-boys are." Henna mentioned. "Townies, travelers, wizards. She's cursing. Your name came up a few times too, Aaron."

"Don't believe anything she tells you. How long do you plan to listen, anyway?" Aaron asked nervously. "We'll definitely skip the abc's tonight."

Henna was wandering about the room, turning down lamps as Aaron said that. "Getting cleaned up is plenty for us. Yes?" he asked.

The last low lamp got carried into the cage and put carefully down under the pot of water. Aaron could hear the rustling of clothes beside him in the dark.

"Yes?" He asked the dark again.

"Bestify your bubble of optimism and energy streams." A hot sponge hit him in the face again. "Get the oil off, Aaron" Came a soft whisper from the dark. "Bath-time. I'm waiting for you, and you're not getting my clothes all wet this time."

***

## chapter 62 strike three

"Marvin says some of the ghosts around the gate got boosted by the blasts last night."

"It was an outworld energy explosion, not demon. It took out most of the outworld ghosts for a while." She added. Henna stood beside Aaron and looked down at the gate. It was sitting in a large clear field now, all by itself. "Sort of. They're already starting to drop back down to our level."

"The blast didn't effect the demons or locals much, then." There was nothing but sand and a stone arch in the center of a rather large circle now. Whatever grass had been there yesterday had gotten burnt off and blown away by outworld magic burbling out of the gate.

The sand around the gate was a messy, broken and glassy now. The gate itself was quiet. Unnaturally so. It was eerily silent around the arch, just as small breeze tickling the dusty sand.

"So everything is normal here?" Aaron looked over the sand at the arch and gulped a few times.

"Yes." Harvey came up and yawned a few times as he looked the gate over. "As far as anyone knows, this is normal." The old witch of the mountain was on Harvey's arm again, and she did show any sign of letting go.

A stern Mindy was ordering Henna's brother about and Ali was busily setting up staffs and otherwise getting things ready for another try at opening the gate. He looked harassed, hen-pecked and Mindy was watching him closely with a very funny look on her face.

"Jeez, I hope your brother can hunt." Aaron muttered to himself as he watched the native witch for a moment. Then he shook his head and looked down at the gate again. "He'll need food up there. Lots of it."

"You two didn't have a lot to say to one another this morning." Henna mentioned with a small pout. "When I introduced you."

"The international brotherhood of witch's boyfriends don't need to talk much." Aaron grumbled out. "We already know. Ask Marvin. He'll tell you about it."

"Say, why did Ali leave the bandit camp?" Aaron asked absently. "He didn't say."

"Pretty much the usual. He tried making and selling bug-juice while I was gone. The recipe went wrong and the camp nearly lynched him when his bug repellent turned into bug-attractor." Henna explained.

The sword was at Aaron's side, and he was holding his staff in front of him like a shield. Henna stayed with him. "Oh. Where's the new demon ghost, Henna?" He asked carefully, after looking around. "What's he up to?"

"Still riding the sword." Henna said. "He's ignoring everything else."

"It's weird." Henna mentioned, looking around the clear skies. "All the demon ghosts are above the gate. There's an army of them there. The outworlders are clustered in front of the gate, the locals behind and the wizard-ghosts and apprentices are swirling around the staffs."

"From the looks of this crowd, every ghost in the world is swirling around us right now." Henna said in awe. "Even the incoherent ones who can't even fly straight anymore."

"An invisible army I can't talk to and I'm the commander. Sounds weird all right." Aaron sighed and started the trek to his position in front of the gate. He could see Mindy's and Henna's head snap up and feel the ghosts watch him as he did.

Harvey, the old witch of the mountain and Henna's brother were all gathering in a tight knot some distance away, safe from any unexpected gate-burbles.

"The demon-priest is starting something, Aaron." Henna called out. "So are the outworlders. Nothing-doing? No-show Winford is here helping out too."

"A spell, I guess. Mindy is going to try and help them with earth-magic since she can't get at the outworld stuff."

Aaron pulled the sword out of it's sheaf and looked down it wearily. Then he laid down on the sand and pointed the sword at the gate, still holding on tight.

His staff was in his other hand and it got pointed at the gate too.

"Everybody ready?" Aaron called out.

"I'm not. The wizard-ghosts say they need a couple seconds to prep for reaching the other side." Henna called out. There was a pause, then she nodded at something floating over her head. "Marvin says everything is ready now. As far as he can tell."

"So here's the plan." Aaron called out. "Outworlder ghosts try to open the gate from their side. Mindy helps them. I try to open the gate from this side, the staff-wizards coming in wherever they can with the local ghosts."

"The demons run around and do whatever it is demons do." He added in a grumble to himself. "Since there's an army of them up there, a lot of it. Everyone ready? Call it out. On the count of three!"

"One!" came from Henna, who was anxiously watching the staffs. "The demons are prepping too! They have a spell going already."

Mindy nodded and called out "Two!" in a strong, clear voice. "Outworlders are reaching."

"They look ready." She said a second or so later. "If they can reach it, they're there, so I'm jumping in." Mindy cast her spell with them. "Go!"

"Three!" yelled Aaron. He closed his eyes hit the gate with the magic from both hands, using the sword and his trusty staff to channel his magics as best he could.

***

## chapter 63 end game

My third try at the gate was the weirdest one yet.

As various magics from various people and ghosts hit the old stone, it began to do weird things, magical things even I could see.

You don't know how thankful I was this wasn't an ordinary gate-burble. I was lying down well within cooking range of any defences the gate wanted to throw out today. Yellow magic blossomed from the top of the gate, magic billows the demon ghosts struggled to hold stable.

The outworlders and Mindy made a strong arch of magic that looked like a whipping ley-line with green cables of something or other in it. That spell thrashed around like a flopping fish even after one end of it disappeared into the gate.

My opening spell hit the gate with full force and simply disappeared. Both the staff and sword versions of it. You could feel the sword straining under the power it was pumping out, and my staff was belching as much energy as I've ever seen it do.

The gate simply ate it all up.

I was tuned to the gate now, I could feel it. I could even feel the other end of it, and how the demon energy was trapped like a wedge between us. As the gate slowly did something at both ends, the middle demon-region and a few other dimensions I was sure no one here had ever heard of before started their own works.

Then the gate seemed to hiccup and all the demon ghosts simply disappeared, along with the outworld ghosts.

Even if I couldn't see them, I could feel it when they left. One second they were here, the next they were all gone.

The human ghosts from the demon realm and the far end of the gate started pouring back thru the gate next, all the left-behind coming back home at once.

All of them, and all at once. For everybody. Then there was a magical slam and the demon leak into the gate shut, a shuddering wham that rippled thru everyone left here. It wrenched everything around, and in a dimension I hadn't even known existed before it moved.

The gate defences seemed to be evaporating. Then the arch opened a new path and my geas shut down.

That was a shock to me as I didn't realize how far the geas had woven itself into my magic, and I almost lost the spell I was doing as the drive to get the gate open simply crackled once and stopped, completely gone.

The change loused up my new metal-wizardry too, as it whimpered once and seemed to stop entirely. All of the staffs in a circle around the gate hummed a bit, crackled, then shut down as the gate opened. The curse that'd driven and held the wizard-ghosts was gone and the released wizard-ghosts all promptly fled.

You could even see the fountain of magic come up from the staffs we'd left behind, the ones still in storage at Harvey's place as their ghosts were freed.

The gate opened a passage to the other side, and the other side opened up too to us, too. Ghosts from all three sides finished stampeding back home in a mad rush. Hundreds and thousands of lost ghosts from everywhere poured thru the gate, everyone going back home.

The outworld ghosts were just as fast getting thru to their side as ours were coming back.

It was the most joyously intense two seconds I've ever been thru. About three seconds after the gate opened, we were left with only a few local ghosts floating around, the usual frustrated-Aunt-Betsy haunts; and that was it. With Mindy's magic thrashing wildly around the gate with nowhere to go anymore, helping the straggler-ghosts get boosted up to new levels.

That many ghosts getting freed from geas, curses, getting to go back home and a few ascending from here to upper levels made the gate the happiest place on earth... For about two seconds. It was a wild spiritual exhilaration and joy, but it didn't last long.

All the ghosts poured back home and most left instantly. Some ghosts ascended to higher planes as soon as they got back, and from all three dimensions.

I couldn't hold my wizardry anymore with everything that was helping me disappearing like that; the gate snapped shut again as I weakened. You could feel the gate close, grinding back into whatever it was doing before we started anything today with a final sort of heavy click.

The gate's defences finished evaporating, along with whatever transport spells the gate had on it. It died.

Then war-wizard sword in my hand went completely dead too, turning from a vibrant, surging magical thing into lifeless metal almost instantly. My staff hiccuped and backed up, it's magic totally frustrated now.

It was right about that time I passed out. I do have a memory of a distant Henna screaming at me, but some of the stray magic floating around hit me hard.

My last waking thought was the magic hitting me was ley-line magic and Mindy was doing it on purpose.

***

## chapter 64 free

"Marvin disappeared too?"

"He went home as soon as he could. Most of the other ghosts simply passed on and ascended as soon as the curse holding them here disappeared."

Henna sighed and shifted a little in her chair. Harvey was still smirking at her in a triumphant manner, like he was the one that's opened up the gate today.

"After a few hundred years of being stuck here, their old homes probably won't even be recognizable now." Henna sighed and pushed her plate away, full and happy again. "Most ghosts left the instant they could, even the energized ones."

"It was quite a rush, that many ghosts being released all at once. You were lucky nobody stayed to take a poke at you on general principals." Henna added.

"I think a couple of them did. So did Mindy. She took the sword and your brother away, too." I mentioned idly. "That girl still has plans for this place, you know. Nasty ones. We should get out of here soon."

I didn't care when. I was free from the geas that'd been driving me for the last few weeks and all I wanted to do right now was sleep.

"Her cats won't grow up for about another year. There'll be a few visits from other wizards about then, so I think this town safe for a while. It is about dead anyway." Harvey mentioned calmly. "It'll be a waste of her time destroying the place and she knows it. No gate, no traffic. Not even a corpse out there now, just a lifeless stone arch someone had a spell on once. Buffalos will take the whole plains over again soon all on their own."

"There's nothing left here for her, anyway. But I have some real plans."

Harvey grinned. "You owe me for this, wizard. We're taking a small trip to the gold fields real soon and you're paying me back." Harvey nodded happily at Aaron. "You get to try out your metal-magic on raw gold nuggets, and real soon too."

"Sounds good to me. You'll have a witch, a metal-wizard and the old witch of the mountain with us, thou." I nodded at the old witch, who'd found her stash-bag and was busy celebrating our victory in her own way.

"I hope you don't mind that." Henna giggled as she reached over and took my staff from my hands. She leaned it against the wall, then sat in my lap.

Harvey looked at the old witch, who grinned right back at him.

"No, not really." He said in a puzzled tone. "I don't mind. I think she's going to hate being away from her gardens, but she'll be there."

I laid back in the chair, sighed and nibbled on a small hunk of cheese.

"It beats being here selling goodies from gardens. We can all learn how to do without things for a while now." I grumbled as I patted Henna on the back. She turned and put her arms around my neck and cuddled in.

"And make the most of what we can get."

"Say, did Mindy tell you anything else?" I asked as Henna started getting personal. "Or Ali?" She giggled happily.

"Yes. Be yourself, your best, oily nurse, dance, love..." The she sat up with a peculiar expression on her face. "Ah, Aaron? There's a ghost here that wants to talk to you."

"Oh?" I said. I wasn't impressed. Ghosts always wanted to talk to someone.

But Henna seemed embarrassed. "It's a girl-ghost and she has this problem... And I think we should help her..."

END

Author's Note:

Fan-mail, biz, complaints and suggestions to teddyhunter10@gmail.com

Kevin Williams is on

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/packrat2

and https://kevinwillpkgd.tumblr.com

He authors an SF series, Teddyhunter: (about runaway teddybear robots), a few books of short stories, comics and the Aaron+Henna fantasy series. The first in every series is usually a free ebook.

Aaron+Henna Series:

The Gateway Project

Girl-Ghost!

Aaron+Henna: The Witch-Wizard War

Aaron+Henna: The Singing Sword

Aaron+Henna: The Way of The Rat

Aaron+Henna: The Terrible Twos

Aaron+Henna: Summer Rain

Aaron+Henna: Broken Magics

Aaron+Henna: Dirty Float (June 2019)

*

***
