Chương 64: Conscriptions and Armies

Ignis Derek was building something in the corner of the garage, probably the platform he'd mentioned. It was made of metal beams and what looked like stone blocks and something he called "firebrick" that apparently wouldn't burn even if I breathed actual fire on it.

"So you don't have to sleep on concrete," Derek explained, noticing me watching.

"Though I guess now you've got the pennies for cushioning." I watched, fascinated, as he and his crew assembled the structure. These mortals could build things even better than dwarves could. It was... impressive, actually. Outside, through the open garage door, I could see Mort waddling around the construction site. The opossum would waddle up to something, a hammer, a piece of wood, or a shiny nail, and touch it. The item would just... vanish.

It was strange, but since he was a spirit animal, I didn't really question it.

"Mort!" Abe's voice cut through the noise like a sword.

"Stop stealing Derek's tools!"

"I'm not stealing," Mort called back cheerfully.

"Lifna needs them!"

"Lifna is a planet! She doesn't need a screwdriver!" Although I hadn't known them for too long, the opossum seemed to get under everyone's skin. Apparently, even a god wasn't immune to this ability.

"You don't know that! She's growing! She has nutritional needs!" The opossum was acting like my mother. It was weird.

"She's made of molten rock! What is she going to do with a screwdriver?!" Abe looked like he wanted to throw something at Mort but was afraid whatever he threw would just disappear and become food for Lifna. Wow, Abe looks pissed, I thought, worried about Mort's continued health.

"I don't question her dietary choices!" The opossum acted like he was offended by the suggestion that she not be given anything and everything that wasn't nailed down.

"MORT!" Abe was literally shaking.

"Fine, fine." But I saw Mort steal another nail when Abe turned away. The workers kept glancing at Mort nervously but didn't say anything. One of them whispered to another: "He's technically a god, right? Do we... can we tell a god to stop stealing?"

"I'm not telling him," another one said.

"Me neither," yet another one of the wolf-smelling humans said.

"What if he curses us?" This time, it was from the first one who had spoken.

"Does he do that?" That was from the… wait, which one was that? For a second, I got confused about the difference between second and third.

"I don't know! Do you want to find out?" At this point, I didn't really care which one was speaking. They all sort of looked alike anyway. It was kind of amusing to see these humans who smelled like wolves afraid of an opossum. It was strange to think that even divine beings could be annoying little thieves. Apparently, godhood didn't automatically make you dignified. My father would be horrified if I ever invited Mort to our home. The thought made me smile, then made my chest hurt again. I missed my father.

My mother. Even my annoying siblings. I buried my snout in my coin pile and tried to think about other things. Not long after that, a woman arrived. She was wearing some kind of official-looking uniform. She had the bearing of a warrior, confident, alert, dangerous despite the lack of obvious weapons.

"Claire," I heard Abe say in greeting.

"Abe. I got your message. You wanted to talk about strategy?" Hmm, she's very businessy isn't she? I thought.

"Yeah. Let's walk," Abe was saying. They moved away from the construction a short distance. I watched them go, curious. I probably shouldn't listen. That would be rude, and intrusive. Dragons are taught better manners than that.... but I was also very, very curious. However, another thing dragons were known for was their keen senses, one of which was their keen sense of hearing. Smiling, I concentrated so that I could make out what they were saying.

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"... the trap will be here," Abe was saying, pointing to a piece of paper he was holding.

"Twenty feet deep. Fifteen feet wide. Wide enough to contain it when it falls."

"And you're sure this will work?" Claire asked. She had her arms crossed, studying the paper Abe was pointing at.

"Nothing's ever sure. But if I can get the Wild People and the Raven Mocker in the same place, fighting each other…" Abe's voice had changed. It was hard, and cold. It was nothing like the tired-but-kind god who'd given me a hoard.

"One problem solves the other. Maybe both problems eliminate each other if I'm lucky," Abe said smugly.

"And if it doesn't work? If the Raven Mocker wins?" Claire asked.

"Then I pull back to the Liminal Land and we try something else. But it will work. It has to." Abe's tail lashed once, sharp and aggressive.

"I'm done waiting for them to attack again. No one else is going to get hurt. This ends on my terms." I felt my scales prickle and decided maybe I shouldn't be listening. Still, I couldn't help myself. I kept on listening as they talked. The way Abe spoke... this wasn't the grumpy-but-kind god who worried about construction costs and tolerated an opossum stealing his tools. This was someone planning to kill something. Something powerful and dangerous. The Raven Mocker, apparently, and some short cannibals.

I'd heard the name whispered by workers and seen the fear in their eyes when they talked about it. A creature of magic and malice apparently. From what I could gather, it had attacked this place and killed some of Abe's followers. And Abe was going to lure it into a trap and kill it. Part of me, the dragon part, the part that dreamed of being fierce and powerful like my parents, wanted to offer help. I was a dragon! I should help! I could… No. I couldn't. I could barely breathe smoke. I was only a millenia old.

I'd be useless in a real fight. In fact, I might be worse than useless. I'd be a liability. But watching Abe talk, hearing the calculation in his voice, the cold certainty… I was suddenly very, very glad I was his friend and not his enemy. Because anyone who could plan like that, speak like that, think that strategically while looking like a cute trash panda... they were dangerous. Even if they were a raccoon. Especially because they were a raccoon and nobody would see it coming.

Mother always said the most dangerous opponents were the ones who looked harmless. Yeah, maybe I should stop listening, I thought. Abe is scary when he wants to be. I'm definitely staying on his good side. For the rest of the day, I tried to distract myself while the humans scurried around like ants. This was made much easier when Derek and some workers carried a large black rectangle into the garage.

"Is that one of the moving picture frames, like in the cabin?" I asked, looking up from my hoard where I'd been organizing coins by shininess.

"Yep," Abe said. He sounded exhausted, his voice rough.

"I figured you'd want something to do besides sleep and count pennies." Abe then turned it on, which just like the first time I had seen it, amazed me. Magic without magic. It truly was a wondrous world. However, they really knew nothing about dragons. He showed me something he called a cartoon that had dragons in it. He said a lot of kids my age watched the show. It was called "Dragon Tales." Despite its inconsistencies, it was quite entertaining. By evening, the construction had finally stopped.

The workers packed up their tools, the ones Mort hadn't stolen, and left. The noise faded to blessed silence. Abe waddled into the garage, looking ready to collapse. His tail dragged on the floor. His ears were flat. Mort followed him, carrying what looked like a sandwich bigger than his own head.

"Finally," Abe muttered, climbing onto an overturned box near my hoard.

"Peace and quiet. Blessed, beautiful silence." He sat there for a moment, just breathing. I'd arranged my pennies into neat piles while watching the television. I was excellent at multitasking. They gleamed in the dim garage light, beautiful and perfect.

"What are we watching?" Mort asked, settling onto another box and taking a massive bite of sandwich.

"News now," Abe said, changing channels.

"We might as well see what fresh disasters the world's cooked up today." The screen changed. A serious-looking human appeared, sitting at a desk with graphics behind them showing maps and numbers.

"... following the third integration wave, several countries have begun implementing mandatory class registration," the human was saying. Their voice was grave, concerning.

"China, Russia, and the European Union have all announced testing centers where citizens are required to report their Gaia System classifications." The screen showed images of people lined up outside buildings. There were long lines with guards holding magic staves. Some people looked scared. Others looked angry. Some were shouting, but were being restrained by guards.

"Mandatory registration," Abe muttered darkly.

"Of course. Can't have people with power running around without being documented. There'll probably be a conscription of certain types of classes soon I'm sure too."

"That seems... bad," I said quietly. We watched in silence for a while.

"Yep, it is. At least I won't be conscripted into any army," Abe muttered. Mort, who'd been eating his sandwich and watching the news with minimal interest, suddenly said: "Oh, by the way, Bambi's building an army too." The remote fell from Abe's paw. It clattered on the concrete floor. Abe stared at Mort.

"She what?"

"An army," Mort repeated, like this was completely normal information. Like he was commenting on the weather.

"You know, training the congregation. Combat tactics. Defensive formations. Squad-based maneuvers. That sort of thing."

"Since when?" Abe's voice had gone up several octaves. It was very undignified for a god.

"Since the attack? Maybe a day or two after?" Mort took another bite of sandwich, chewing thoughtfully.

"She said something about 'never again' and 'won't be caught unprepared' and 'Master Splinter would be disappointed in our lack of discipline.'" Abe just stared at Mort. Then he looked at me. That was when his right eye started twitching.