Rich Boy: Growing Pains - 2. Chapter 2

“It doesn’t look any different.” Brandon’s voice came over Worthington’s headset as they sat on their bikes in the middle of the highway, looking at the dirt road ahead of them. Brandon’s little green and black Ninja bike was idling smoothly, a soft purr next to the much louder growl of Worthington’s Ducati. Behind them, two more Ducatis growled as their riders revved them up a bit.

“You said they would be improving the road too.” Rob’s voice held a slight bit of taunting to it over the radio. He was riding Worthington’s old temporary bike.

“Can you feel the magic?” Jamie asked, and Worthington was suddenly reminded of the barrier in his mind. Even with Jamie riding a bike that was the twin of Worthington’s custom-made bike, he had forgotten the split between them as they rode up into the mountains. It was cooler up here than down in the valley, and he was appreciative of the temperature difference.

“What are we waiting for?” Carl’s voice held just a bit of a whine. He was on the back of Jamie’s bike and didn’t like riding nearly as much as everyone else.

“I can feel the magic.” Worthington agreed after a moment of concentration. It was subtle magic and had a different feel than the human magic he was accustomed to experiencing. With a purely mental sigh, he revved his engine with his right hand and released the clutch with his left. His bike sped forward, and the dirt road shimmered as his bike’s wheels ran over its surface.

“Hot damn!” Rob called out with a whoop of joy as his bike also reached what they now saw as a road paved with carefully smoothed and placed stones. They glittered in the sunlight, and at first, Worthington was concerned with his tires keeping traction, but they ran over the stone like it was asphalt, and he relaxed slightly, opening up the throttle a bit as they sped along the road.

“I wonder if that’s an illusion too?” Brandon said as they neared the chain-link fence that had marked the boundary of the abandoned mine Worthington had purchased last year. Beyond the fence, he could see the familiar rusting buildings and piles of slag waste that the dwarves had been so interested in, and around it all, he could barely sense the shimmering of the same magic that had hidden the stone-paved road.

“I think it is,” Worthington said as the gates opened. Even as they rode through them, the illusion ended and they could see what the dwarves had managed to build in just a few months.

He nearly wrecked his bike, and instead of risking it he brought it to a halt and looked behind him at the great metal gates that were now swinging shut. They were easily forty feet high and reflected the sunlight like shining beacons. Where there had been a chain link fence, there was now a wall twice as high as the gates, and he could see short figures on top of it, peering down at him before turning back to look out over the way they had come.

That was not all that had been covered by illusion.

Gone were the rusting buildings and the piles of slagheap. What had once been barren, or near barren ground was filled with buildings in various stages of construction. Some looked nearly completed, and they formed a maze of streets that led to where the old main building had stood. In its place was what looked like a small castle that rose five stories into the air. On the far side of the rectangular stone building was a round tower that rose another four stories over the main building and was as wide around as the main building itself. It was the only building that looked completed, but from their current point of view it was impossible to quite tell.

“Holy fuck.” Rob whistled over the radio. “How the hell did they do that in just a few months?”

“They’re dwarves.” Worthington said in a voice that he hoped didn’t sound too impressed. The truth was he was very impressed at what he saw just now. Instead of speaking again, he put his bike in motion again and wound his way through the maze of new streets. As they rode he saw dwarves working on the buildings stop and look at them pass by without any discernible expression that he could read. All of them were the familiar dark-skinned dwarves he had become accustomed to seeing, and it looked like there were hundreds at work.

As he took a right turn down a road that seemed to lead towards the main building, he looked down his left at what had been the central pit of the mine before. The walls of the pit were a bustle of activity with hundreds more dwarves carving out what looked like dwellings from the rock face of the pit. Below a few quick glances showed more dwarves at the bottom in what had been little more than a cesspit of wastewater. Now the water looked a lot cleaner, and he could feel some magic rolling off the dwarves as they worked in the water.

The castle in front of him consumed the majority of his attention as they reached it, and he instinctively moved his bike into the shelter built into the side of the castle’s walls. It had neatly painted lines on it just big enough for motorcycles, with about twenty spaces. On either end there were larger spaces marked off as parking for larger vehicles. He claimed the center motorcycle spot, and felt the other three bikes pulling into spots near his. While he got off his bike and took off his helmet, they shut off their engines and mimicked his actions.

“Amazing,” Jamie said softly, with awe apparent in his voice too. “It’s only been what, about eleven weeks and they’ve managed to do all this?”

“We’ve had nearly a thousand dwarves every day of the week and in shifts around the clock.” A gruff dwarf said from the end of the shelter. “Don’t be thinking we’re miracle workers just yet, lad.”

“We are still impressed,” Worthington said and winced mentally at the pronoun he had used. This close to Jamie, and with their reactions to the dwarven achievement, they had let the barrier thin just a bit. With determination, they both strengthened it again and took a deliberate step away from each other as Worthington turned to face the speaker.

“That’s good of you to say, Master Sinclair.” The dwarf did sound happy as he rocked on his feet a bit. His skin was dark, although not nearly as dark as the dwarf Worthington had first met, the First Councilor to the King. He’d learned that at least among the Dark Dwarves, the darker the skin, the more ‘noble’ a dwarf’s blood was considered. “I am Governor Lokar, appointed by his royal Majesty as his Governor in Clairville.”

“Clairville?” Brandon asked with surprise.

“It is the name his majesty has given this settlement.” Governor Lokar said with a chuckle and he crossed the distance between them until he stood just an arm’s reach away from Worthington. He barely reached Worthington’s waist, and was nearly half again as wide as Worthington, with large arms and a chest that was more muscle than fat. His beard was pitch black as well but only came down to the middle of his chest, and while his face was wrinkled, he didn’t feel as old as many of the dwarves that they had dealt with before. If anything, he was likely just approaching his middle years. “The name is meant as an honor to the Sinclair that has given us his leave to settle on his land.”

“I am honored,” Worthington said.

“That’s a good thing lad.” The dwarf laughed. “It wouldn’t do to take offense to something his majesty intended as an honor. Now here’s the key to your new home.”

“A key?” Worthington asked in surprise as he took what looked like, and felt like nothing but a plastic card. It was a metallic gray in color, with a black tribal design that looked somehow familiar on the front of it, and a black magnetic strip on the back. It thrummed in his hand with magic almost as if it was matching itself to him.

“There, it’s keyed to you now.” The dwarf said with happiness. “We got the idea from those little electronic keys human hotels use. Now you won’t be wanting to lose that little thing, at least until you’ve reset the wards on the place to your own. From it you can make more keys, and you can set what floors and things those other keys can access. That way you can control who can get into and out of the place. Now, how about a little tour?”

“That would be wonderful, Governor,” Worthington said with a very slight bow of his head.

The main entrance nearly took his breath away and was just the first room of the building. Skylights from the roof five stories above let the sunlight in, and the marble inlays of the floor glittered. It was a large room, with several gilded tables along the walls, artwork, and mirrors on the wall, and a grand staircase that headed up and split into two different directions. Six more doors led to other rooms on the ground floor.

On the ground floor were the kitchens, a massive dining room, and ‘audience hall,’ as well as several smaller sitting rooms. The next floor held meeting rooms, offices, and other similar rooms that Worthington knew had Brandon drooling. The upper three floors held entertainment and sleeping rooms, all of which were more spacious than the rooms he had at his current house.

The tower that soared four more stories above the main building held a series of rooms that could be equipped as mage workrooms, labs, or any number of uses suited to magic work. Below everything, there was a massive basement that was well equipped as a primary mage workroom, where they could practice all forms of mage-craft, and even combat between groups of mages if they so desired.

Everything was furnished in a style that would have fit in with European royal courts of the eighteen hundreds, but with a modern flair. Nearly every room had a television, and he was not surprised the entire building was equipped with fiber-optic data lines for phone and Internet service. Only the most modern televisions were in the rooms, plus a generous number of electrical outlets were available in all rooms. The kitchen had some of the most modern equipment available and could be used to fix a meal for one or for a thousand just as easily.

“So, you be liking what we’ve done?” The Governor asked. “We could have been nearly done with the above-ground facilities of the settlement by now, but we put extra effort in this place. From outside, it looks no different to non-mages, or even the human satellites. Mage-folk and creatures who cross into our boundaries will see the truth.”

“We are impressed, sir.” Worthington said and they wondered how they could get away from living in the home that was being built for them back in town and just live here. No, that would not be wise. Still, Brandon had talked about moving the business functions of the Sinclair family out to Phoenix, and this would be as good a place as any.

Then he realized he’d used the plural pronoun and nearly cursed aloud. Being this close to Jamie, and being impressed by this place had thinned their barrier again, and for the briefest of moments, he felt his determination matched with Jamie’s before the barrier broke them apart again. This wasn’t easy to deal with, but he knew very well it was something that had to be done, no matter how sweet it had been for that moment when the barrier was weakest.

“A place as large as this will need people to care for it.” The dwarf continued. “I have asked and some of those who will be moving to this place we are building will agree to act as housekeepers for you. They will not be servants, mind you boy, dwarves do not enter service. They will keep the house clean and maintained, and they will cook food for you and your people, and do your laundry and the like. If you are interested in retaining someone, I have several interested parties for you to meet with today. All of them have agreed to accept reasonable bindings to not steal or reveal what happens inside unless, of course, it might be a threat to our King.”

“I will consider this,” Worthington said after a moment. It would be better than trying to hire non-mage humans to take care of the place, and the dwarf was right. If he let it go a week without cleaning, dust would cover everything, and Brandon would work his butt off just trying to keep the ground floor polished.

“Good, when do you want to meet the first applicant?” The dwarf asked with a grin and a chuckle. “She is my wife’s sister and a good lass. For the last five years, she has served as the Second to His Majesty’s Mistress of House, so she understands well the caring of noble houses.”

“Send her here in a few hours,” Worthington said. “If you do not mind, we would like to explore.”

“No problem, Master Sinclair.” The dwarf said in good humor. “I will leave you now.”

“Good day, Governor Lokar.” Worthington bowed his head as he spoke. When the dwarf was gone, he turned to his small group, linking with Brandon even as Jamie linked with Carl.

“Rob, why don’t you take the tower and begin casting the wards we showed you?” Jamie suggested, and the blond mage bowed his head before heading off. Rob wasn’t much for subtle magics, but he understood offense and defense and was quite capable there. From the tower, he would set defensive wards that would activate first in case of an attack, and he understood how to link them into the living life of the world around the building so they would not fade.

He and Jamie had other work to do, and this work would stress their determination to remain separated identities. While Jamie and Carl took up a position on the third floor in the middle of the new building, Worthington made his way to the basement with Brandon right behind him. In the large, cavernous room lit by electrical overhead lights, Worthington took up a position directly beneath were Jamie stood several stories up. Working in tandem, they began to leech out the magic of the temporary wards set by the dwarves when they were building the place, and began to reset it with their own wards.

The work would have gone much smoother and faster if they had thinned the barrier between them, but they didn’t do that. Instead, they worked in tandem as ordinary mages would work, and began to spin out powerful ward after powerful ward. By the time they were half done, Worthington was covered in sweat and nearly panting with the effort of the magic he had been casting.

The first sets of wards were done though, and he leaned against Brandon for a moment. The shorter Channel was also covered in sweat, but he had a smile on his face as he looked around at the mat-covered basement. It would be a great workroom for practicing so many different types of magic, and a great room for practicing physical fighting as well.

“I think even these dwarves will be impressed with that bit of spell casting,” Brandon said. “It must be full dark up there by now.”

“I thought there would have been more ceremony than one lone dwarf, even if it was the Governor,” Worthington said as they climbed the stairs back up to the main level.

“That was the ceremony.” Brandon snorted. “Only the most formal of dwarf ceremonies are really all that complicated. At twilight is how they measure the passing of days, not morning like us. We arrived right on time, took possession of the premises and did the first spellwork to make it our own. That’s more than enough ceremony for them.”

“I hope you’re right.” Worthington sighed as they reached the main level where they waited another two minutes for Jamie to show up.

“Rob quit about a half-hour ago and is in the kitchen trying to find some refreshments.” Jamie said with a smile. He was as sweaty as Worthington. “I think I’d like to clean up a bit. We should have brought a change in clothes. After the ride, and now this spellwork, these leathers are going to smell until they get cleaned.”

“You’re right.” Worthington laughed. “I almost hate to say this, but weren’t the master bedrooms on the top floor?”

“Great, I get to climb all these stairs again.” Jamie groaned. “You’d have thought that these great dwarves could have put some damn elevators in this place!”

“You need the exercise.” Worthington teased his brother. “You’re starting to look a little flabby around the middle.”

“There’s no fat here!” Jamie exclaimed as they began to climb the stairs. His jacket was open and he lifted his white t-shirt to show tight skin over his belly. “Just because I don’t have a six pack like you anymore doesn’t mean I’m flabby! You’re just jealous my belly looks normal, not like some damn sculpture!”

“You wish.” Worthington snorted, even though that statement was too close to the truth. He was jealous, but because there was a difference between them where there had been none, and it had only been seven weeks! How different would they look when years had passed?

“How are we going to assign rooms” Brandon asked as they reached the second floor and began to walk to the stairwell at the other end of the floor’s main hallway. This floor was obviously meant for business, with several offices and large areas in which cubicles could be set up for various clerks and administrators. Worthington could almost feel the gears moving in Brandon’s head as he examined office space and figured how many people he could fit in here for ‘Sinclair’ business. The rest of the official staff that ran the family business affairs would probably be based in Phoenix, out of the same building Worthington was now renting for the affairs of the Mage’s Council. “All the MRs will want a room here, you know?”

“We put them on the fourth floor,” Jamie said with certainty as they began to climb to the third floor. “The third floor, it’s mostly family apartments and the like as well as the movie theater and game rooms.”

“We should have a library,” Brandon noted sourly. “No house is complete without a real library with real books in it.”

“Put one in the tower,” Worthington said with finality as they walked down the third-floor hallway to the next staircase. He understood why the dwarves had built it so that you couldn’t just go from one floor to the next. It made good defensive strategy attackers would have to fight hard to get up to the top floor and the most ‘protected’ of the building’s occupants. It was almost quaint, except they’d recently fought demons, and he couldn’t help but think at least a little about the defense of any place that he intended to call home at least part of the time.

They finally reached the fifth floor and the rooms for Worthington and Jamie plus their immediate retinue. The stairs let them out onto the north side of the building, nearest the section that intersected with the tower. There were four rooms on the north end of the building, and all of them were bigger than the room Worthington had back in Scottsdale at his Aunt’s house. For each set of two rooms, there was a common bath the two rooms shared that was quite luxurious. The largest drawback that Worthington could see was that only the rooms on the east and west ends had any windows at all.

“I think Rob would love to have one of these rooms,” Brandon said with a smile. “As for the others, well, I guess someone can come along and claim them eventually.”

“There’s plenty of space in the building,” Jamie said softly. Along the eastern wall were several more rooms, all of them spacious and well furnished. Worthington and Jamie both understood these would be excellent rooms for…wives and children, and there was a large room in the middle that would be perfect for a nursery.

On the south end of the building, they faced a large wall that took up well over a quarter of the floor space. There was a single door in the middle of the wall, and they opened it to find an impressive suite of rooms. This was obviously meant for the ‘master’ of the building, or ‘masters’ because they soon found that it had been prepared with more than one person in mind.

The first room was a sitting room, complete with a large plasma television that would descend from the ceiling with a flicker of magic. A series of leather couches and love seats were arranged around a large fireplace. When it was lowered, the television would cover the mantle of the fireplace and be easily viewed from any of the couches.

There were more rooms that led off from the sitting room, including a small dining room that could seat eight comfortably, or double as a conference room complete with wired speakerphones and more televisions. Then there were two small offices obviously meant for assistants and a small kitchenette that could be used to store snacks and prepare small meals if desired.

Then they found the bedrooms.

Behind the sitting room was a small hallway that had two other doors at either end. The door on the left was the first one they went into. The room was big, about twice the size of Worthington’s bedroom in Scottsdale, and had large French windows all along the southern and eastern walls. While it was dark outside now, during the day sunlight would stream in from them brightly. For now, great crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. They were electrical, but it took a moment to figure that out because the light they gave off had the same quality of candlelight. Curtains of a silver-gray color were drawn back from each of the windows, and could be used to block out the outside light if it was desired.

In the middle of the room was a large, oversized bed with curtains drawn back showing a rich dark green bed covering. In several places around the room were small couches or armchairs that could be used by a few people, or many, and there was a large fireplace in the wall that separated it from the bedroom on the other side. A fancy wood partition separated off a dressing area that led to a deep closet, and another similar partition separated out an office area that bordered on the eastern wall.

“Wow,” Carl said with pleasure as he opened up a door set in the northeastern wall and it revealed another sleeping room that was a little smaller than some on the floor but richly appointed and with a large king-size bed of its own. “I think this was meant for me.”

“What makes you think that?” Jamie asked with a little grin.

“It’s got everything in blue and green in there, and those are my favorite colors.” Carl grinned back. He had grown about an inch in the last few months and was reaching that gangly stage of growth where his body was not quite adjusting to its new size. His blond hair was cut in a bowl-style, and he had a toothy grin that still showed childish delight in everything. “That would mean this was to be your room, right Jamie?”

“I think so,” Brandon said as he picked up an envelope that was sitting on the desk in the office area and handed it to Jamie. Worthington looked over his brother’s shoulder and was amused by the fancy cursive script that flowed across the envelope. It was his full name, and he opened the envelope slowly before pulling out a piece of parchment, not paper.

Adept Jameson Anthony Sinclair-Bradwell,

I bid you fair greetings, brother, and pray that you will find these rooms acceptable for your use whenever you are at a residence in Clairsville. In honor of the great victory against the demons, I have ordered the production of clothing for you. It is bael-naedhras, or in your tongue, ‘woven metal’ and the rarest of dwarven clothing. I hope you will find them useful.

I look forward to a long and profitable relationship between our peoples.

Odras,

King of Baldran-Don

“I think you should go look at your bedroom, brother.” Jamie smiled as he read the note over one more time and his eyes began searching for the closets they’d seen earlier. Worthington nodded, and he left the room with Brandon in tow. Carl was already searching his own room for clothing or notes, and Jamie was lost in his new closet.

The other room was slightly larger than Jamie’s but almost identical. There was even a similar side-bedroom that was obviously meant for Brandon, and had its own bed. On the desk in the office was another note from the dwarven king that said much the same as Jamie’s, although the language was a bit more flowery. While Brandon found the smallish bathroom attached to his room, Worthington found a large, luxurious bathroom in the wall near the fireplace that separated his bedroom from Jamie’s.

The bathroom nearly took his breath away. The sink countertop was a light golden marble, and the double sink fixtures were solid gold. There was also a large shower that could probably fit five people comfortably, complete with a ring of showerheads in a variety of positions that looked absolutely heavenly. In the back corner of the bathroom was a large Jacuzzi tub big enough to hold four people comfortably.

It was nearly forty minutes later before he left the shower behind and dried off using one of the large dark red towels that he’d found in a closet within the bathroom. When he went into the dressing area, he took in once again the beauty of the room. The French windows had curtains of a darker gray than Jamie’s, and the furniture was a darker wood as well, with his bed coverings and draperies in a dark red much like his towel. It wasn’t a color he’d necessarily have chosen himself, but he realized he did like it a lot.

In his closet he soon found out what the dwarf king meant by ‘woven metal’. The shirts reminded him mostly of the tight Under Armor style workout shirts that football and baseball players wore. They were soft to the touch, almost sensual, but they had a strength to them that seemed powerful. Pulling out a dark gray shirt, he slipped it on and soon found that it felt like the shirts he saw the other jocks wear. It fit his form perfectly, but was far stronger than any cloth he’d ever worn before. Some experimentation showed that hitting it felt like hitting metal, and hurt. It also showed the shirt had some sort of padding effect as well that cushioned the blow much like his motorcycle-riding jacket did.

Then there were the pants. In the closet, they looked like black leather, but he saw in the light of the room that they were made of a similar material as the shirt, except thicker. A quick search through the drawers proved that they held silk boxer-briefs, as well as bikini briefs, and he also found plenty of socks in there as well. Quickly he slipped on a set of the underwear and socks before pulling the tight pants on.

They must have gotten his sizes from Brandon or his personal shopper because everything fit perfectly. When he spotted the boots in the closet, he smiled and tried them on as well. They were black boots that came up just over his ankle, and fit perfectly. When he walked around the room, looking into one of the several mirrors he nearly gasped at how good he looked. The shirt and pants showed off his body very well, and they glimmered as he moved, as if light was refracting off metal, and he really liked the effects.

“Damn we’re going to have to find a way to repay him for these.” Jamie murmured from the doorway. He was dressed in a brown pair of leather pants that glimmered softly like Worthington’s, and a shirt of a much lighter gray.

“I had clothes too!” Carl called excitedly as he came in the room, wearing a set of regular leather pants that were snug-fitting, and a white loose-fitting shirt with long sleeves that emphasized his lean frame in a way that made Worthington’s pants stir. Jamie frowned at him for a moment, but didn’t say anything. He’d never do something like that to Carl, or at least never again. It was just a normal reaction to the look of pure cute innocence in Carl at that moment. Brandon emerged from his own room, also with new clothes although they were not leather pants. His outfit was dark slacks, and a dark red shirt that fit his complexion perfectly.

“The Governor should be back soon with that woman he wants you to meet.” Brandon reminded him, ever the perfect assistant keeping his boss on time.

“Well, let’s not keep him waiting.” Worthington said and led the way out of the bedroom area and down the hallway. This place really was huge, and he wondered how many people he’d have to employ to keep it clean. The dwarves had certainly made sure he paid a lot of money for furnishing this place, but he realized it was worth every penny. He could almost hear the halls buzzing with activity as people went about doing his business, or the children he would have someday played in the nursery, and tried to slide down the banisters of the stairs without getting caught. There would be no long trips for him every day to conduct business. He could do it here, and then spend time in the tower working on magic, never far from home.

Fifteen minutes later they were sitting in a small dining room off of the main dining hall. That hall was large enough to fit a few hundred people in it and seemed to be styled after a medieval concept of a Great Hall. It could be used for formal dinners, receptions, or any host of events that included a large gathering of people. The smaller room they were sitting in had a long table that could comfortably hold twenty-five people, although it was just Worthington, Jamie, Brandon, Carl, and Rob along with the dwarf Governor and the first female dwarf they had yet seen.

She was shorter than Lokar, had only the faintest hint of a mustache above her upper lip, and her skin was a pale brown rather than the darker charcoal black or other darker colors he’d seen on many male dwarves. The dwarf woman had bowed when she was first introduced and had remained silent until they were seated in the room. It was then that she spoke, and Worthington found himself liking her from the first words out of her mouth.

“You will of course wish me to use the proper dwarven title for my role in your house.” She said immediately. “That title is Mistress of the House. His Majesty has honored you with magnificent gifts I see, the clothing you are wearing. Only nobles of the highest blood may wear it, and the king only gives it to those humans considered to be of high blood. You are a Sinclair, so that fits, as well as your achievements. To honor the king, of course, you will run this household as a noble would, which means that you will want a household staff of at least fifteen, and that not all of them can be dwarves. Most definitely they cannot all be humans either. Never fear, I will be able to find an appropriate mix.

“Of course all who work in the house, myself included will have to accept fealty binding to your house.” She continued with barely a pause for breath. “That cuts down the dwarves who would allow themselves to be bound to a human, but I know quite a few. Still, there are a few who will only accept such employment if it’s offered as a lifelong placement, excepting for malfeasance or similar, and retirement privileges. You will not wish to bother yourselves with the hiring, so I will take care of it for you. Before we give final approval to any of them, though, I will have them meet you so you can be the one who offers them their employment instead of it coming from me. It is you they will care for after all. Remember that, we care for you, not serve!”

“We remember, my lady.” Jamie laughed.

“Oh, simply Mistress will do, my lord.” She bowed her head, and Worthington almost thought she was blushing! “Or Housemistress is also a common form of address. You will, of course, wish to pay me at a rate showing the value of your home, so it will have to be more than most nobles pay their Mistress of the House, but most definitely less than that made by the King’s. I believe $93,500 US dollars will be appropriate in your currency. We shall need a household budget of $1 million per year to keep this place running properly, although if you are here more than a few times a week that may need to increase.”

“We will discuss the specifics of the household budget later.” Brandon had said firmly, and she smiled at him.

“Is this your aide, my lord?” She asked.

“Yes,” Worthington answered with a chuckle. Yes, he had a feeling she’d make a fine Housemistress.

“Good, I will finish the details with him.” She said firmly and then looked thoughtful. “That is if you wish to hire me?”

“By all means, Housemistress.” Worthington smiled. “We could not imagine a more capable person to keep this house running properly.”

“Oh my, such a fine young man.” She was blushing this time. “We will not have any problems at all!”

She took Brandon with her at that point, bustling him towards the kitchen, and Worthington had sat back in the chair he was in and smiled. “A woman who knows what she wants.”

“All dwarven women know what they want, and it is useless to try and negotiate with them.” Lokar snorted with amusement. “You may be assured though, that she will keep your household well-run and a credit to her name as well as yours. So long as you keep her happy, that is.”

“I am afraid that seeing her angry will be worse than facing a Demon Lord again.” Worthington laughed, but he had a feeling that his words were accurate.

“My King understands that next week is your birthday, sir,” Lokar said in a way that made it clear he’d changed the topic on purpose. “Will you be present here in your Hall?”

“I have not made any definitive plans,” Worthington admitted. “It is…a day of mixed feelings for me.”

“Ah yes, it was the day your family was murdered a year ago.” The dwarf nodded. “It must be difficult for you.”

“Actually, their dying was the best thing to ever happen to me.” Worthington snorted. “Still, it might appear unseemly for me to celebrate anything on that day.”

“Then what better place to spend it than in your own Hall?” Lokar asked. “You can celebrate quietly, with those who know you and understand that it is not necessarily the black day it would be for others. His Majesty would like to attend if you are willing and doing something here.”

“Then, by all means, assure him he is welcome, and we will be having a small celebration,” Worthington said quickly. He really did want to meet the dwarf king.

“I have brought some refreshment, my lord.” Sapha said as she reentered the room, bearing a tray full of tall mugs. She served Worthington first, followed by Jamie, and then Governor Lokar before she sat a mug of what looked like milk in front of Carl, who sniffed at it and frowned. Worthington’s held strong coffee fixed just the way he liked it best. “Your aide did inform me you have not yet had supper. If you will be patient with me, I will have some food prepared in less than an hour while he and I finish our discussions.”

“That will be fine, Housemistress,” Worthington said, and she blushed again.

“Oh, I do love hearing that title used for me!” She gushed as she bobbed again before taking the tray out of the kitchen. He made a mental note to always use that title with her.

“I have not seen her so happy since the day I married her sister.” Lokar chuckled. “Maybe now she will settle down. I have several of my best men who have been after her hand in marriage, and she does not make a choice! It will be good not to have to keep them apart from each other.”

“Won’t it cause problems when she picks one and not the others?” Carl asked with real curiosity on his angelic face.

“Lad, dwarf women are rare indeed.” Lokar rumbled in deep laughter. “Only those of noble blood get the honor of being married to a dwarf woman without a co-husband. As the Mistress of your House, she will be of sufficient rank that she will only need to take two or three co-husbands. Both of my best men who are interested in her get along well enough to be married with her together. I am blessed that I only share my wife with one other co-husband. It is a sign of great prestige among my people.”

“Interesting.” Jamie laughed, and Worthington smiled ever so slightly.

“Wow,” Carl said with wide eyes as he sipped his milk.

“I have a feeling that there are a lot of customs among your people we will be learning in the days ahead,” Worthington said calmly.

“There is that, Adept.” The dwarf laughed. “We will all be learning new customs in the days ahead. My liege has asked me to begin discussing with you the ideas that he holds in his heart.”

“What ideas are those, governor?” Worthington asked as he sipped at the coffee.

“Lad, are you not surprised at the number of dwarves I mentioned being here?” Lokar said with passion. “Before we approached you, how many dwarves did you think existed?”

“I have never given that much thought,” Worthington admitted. “The legends say that the dwarves were few in number when they went west from the old world.”

“That they were, but we have been here for centuries now, biding our time and reproducing.” Lokar chuckled. “With many co-husbands, our women often pop out a dozen babes before they grow past their years of fertility. Once, when we first started the halls of Baldron-Don, there were just a few hundred of our kind left. Humans, the ones you call mundanes, disease, and the Demon Wars took many lives from our people. As humans expanded into the west, we retreated back into our halls and hid lest the mundane humans find us and begin once again their pogroms against our kind. All magical beings like us did this, even our Light cousins, and the Elves, and Ogres and Kobolds. Now though our populations have grown so much that we are rubbing elbows everywhere we turn around.”

“You speak as if the different races all live together.” Jamie frowned as he spoke.

“We live near each other, in the mountains that run from the places you call Idaho and Colorado down into this area.” Lokar nodded. “We have even begun to heal the differences between those of us you call Light and Dark, although we do not subscribe to many of the same beliefs you humans seem to believe in. There have even been two marriages of the different races, and children produced! The elves still argue and fight but now it is formalized. When it gets too much between them they call duel arcane and fight until one is defeated instead of to the death, or in open warfare. All of our people are flourishing, and growing, and where we live is becoming too crowded to hold all of us in such near proximity.”

“Dwarves prefer to live underground,” Jamie said with a frown. “But you’re building houses here.”

“Dwarves will live in the caves and homes being carved into the rock and underground.” Lokar nodded at Jamie with approval. “The homes are for others. Elves and Ogres, brownies and pixies, and even some of the Halflings are choosing to come here, to see if this vision of our King will work.”

“What vision is that?” Worthington asked.

“Can’t you feel it, lad?” Lokar asked with a frown. “You are an Adept or will be one once you are full-grown. The world of magic is growing strong again, strong as it has not been since the days of yore when the races of magic lived amongst the races of man, and your mages protected all from harm. Magical races, and creatures are growing in such numbers that they can no longer remain hidden. This outpost here, this village will be the first of many, where magical beings relearn what it is like to live with humans, and humans remember us, and live with us.”

That shook Worthington to the core, on many levels, and try as he might, he had to admit he’d felt the winds of change the dwarf talked about. The only thing he could think about was how the mages he knew would not be happy and would disagree mightily. What was he to do about it, though, and who gave him any authority at all to be the one to decide anything?