CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Wonders of the Other World

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“Bloody hell!”

Sweat dripped down Bram’s brow.

“We’re not ready for them…”

He tried to rise from the chamber’s cold stone floor, but Rowan wrapped her hand around his and pulled him back into her arms.

“Worry not, My Prince.” She intertwined her fingers with his. “They cannot see us…”

 

 

Bram’s free hand flew to his sword’s hilt, which he realized a second later was a foolish act. For what could bastion-forged steel do against the sun god?

“Don’t be afraid,” Rowan whispered into Bram’s ear. “They cannot hear us…”

 

 

“They cannot smell us…”

Her breath tickled his skin.

 

 

“They cannot touch us…”

Her lips pressed against his neck, drawing out the anxiety from Bram’s body along with the blood she now sipped from him.

A moan escaped the seventh prince’s lips.

“Rowan…now’s not—”

The pleasure he’d felt from her touch vanished as soon as her lips parted from his neck.

In his mind, he wanted her to keep going, to sate her hunger by taking more of his blood in that blissful way that set him afire…but Bram didn’t say this out loud. He couldn’t. Control of his senses was returning to him, and with it came the embarrassment of one who’d overindulged in a drug he alone could partake in.

When Rowan pulled away from Bram, her cheeks showed a rosy tinge. She looked full of life now unlike a minute ago when the ordeal of her sorcery had sapped her complexion of color.

“And even if the gods knew where to look…”

Rowan’s gaze drifted lazily away from Bram’s flushed face and toward the entrance of the chamber. Long moments passed by without anything or anyone arriving to disturb their vigil…Not even a passing breeze.

“…They would do nothing.”

She rose from the ground where she’d sat next to him. Then she laughed. It was laughter of a girlish sort but with a hint of malice in its echo.

The gods are impotent without their champions,” Rowan scoffed. “We need not worry about an encounter…not yet.”

Hers was quite the declaration considering that three of arguably the most prominent members of the pantheon ruling High Heaven—the Sun God Phoebus, June, Mother of Life, and Pallas, Keeper of Knowledge—had turned their attention to the mortal world. ‘She Who Knows’ had even pinpointed the mountain from which Rowan had cast sorcery potent enough to break the fundamental laws of two worlds. Yet despite this blatant flouting of their rules and the distortion it caused to the fabric of the world they governed, the gods did nothing. Rowan’s claim proved true after all.

Still, several gods showing interest with the mortal world was such a rare occasion that those mortals who witnessed their portents in the heavens were left with their mouths agape while feeling a sense of wonder, confusion, even fear… Meanwhile, the two rulebreakers who’d drawn the gods’ gazes cared not for the attention. Bram, whose mind was still recovering from the trickster’s soft caresses, and Rowan, who was busy inspecting the item she’d just acquired from another world.

“I expected something more glamorous,” she admitted. “Perhaps one of those moving pictures I saw in your visions…”

She eyed the metal cylinder in her hand with confusion flitting across her face.

“Tis cold to the touch…” she observed. “Perhaps it’s a weapon of some sort?”

“I don’t think it’s a weapon…” Bram blinked. Once, twice, and then a third time to ensure his mind was his. Only then did he decide to speak again. “It looks more like one of the ever-heating flasks we keep our tea in.”

“A drink then…?”

Rowan shook the cylinder, causing the sound of sloshing liquid to reach their ears.

“I wouldn’t—”

She pierced its top with her nail—and a frothy brown liquid exploded out of the hole to splash across Rowan’s face.

“—do that,” Bram finished lamely.

As usual, the otherworldly knowledge he gleaned from his visions proved accurate this time as well. He knew almost instinctively that one should never shake a ‘can of soda’ lest they wished to be doused in its contents.

To her credit, Rowan didn’t immediately fly into a tantrum like most of the highborn ladies of the imperium would have from such a mishap. Instead, she brushed her finger against the bead of brown liquid sliding down her cheek and then pressed that bead to her lips.

“It’s sweet,” she whispered.

“Is it?” Bram asked curiously.

Truthfully, it may not have been the beverage’s taste but the way she tasted it which caught the seventh prince’s interest. To his secret delight, she offered for him to try it in the very same way she’d done. Funnily enough, it was in this compromising position—Bram pressing his lips against Rowan’s outstretched finger—that the seventh prince and the trickster were in when they felt the wind stir. It was the surest sign that they were no longer alone.

“Should we come back later?” Bridget asked in a teasing tone.

Bram’s cheeks flared red. So did Hajime’s and Chris’ cheeks.

“You’re right on time.” Rowan Didn't look the least bit embarrassed. The trickster then raised the can of soda in her hand and asked, “I wish to know more about soda.”

Sometime after Bridget had teased Bram enough, the seventh prince and his trickster were both treated to a delight of the senses neither of them expected. They had both taken a swig of soda and thoroughly enjoyed the crisp vanilla-like flavor on their tongues to the point that Bram declared ‘soda’ would be one of the other world’s first products that would be exported into Lotharin.

“As much as I enjoyed the taste of ‘soda’, bringing more of it to Aarde may prove challenging.” Rowan’s gaze drifted to the two corpses lying near their summoning circle. “It took two red grizzlies just to empower the ritual that brought it to us…”

The implications of her words weren’t lost on Bram.

If the sacrifice of two beasts was the price for one can of soda, then how many more beasts must die to pay for the passage of this beverage from another world?

The population of wild beasts in Gaullia was abundant, and with many such creatures labeled as menaces throughout the Atlan Imperium, Bram had a resource for the summoning of more otherworlders. Still, this abundance didn’t mean an infinite supply, and Bram was loathe to waste finite resources on a beverage. It seemed too excessive. He didn’t even need to mention that such an endeavor would surely draw the gods’ interest once more. They may let it slide once, but twice—surely, the gods aren’t that lazy.

“It wouldn’t be too hard to make soda locally,” Chris recommended. “Y’all probably have similar ingredients to the ones we need.”

“But how does one achieve the bubbles effect in the sweet brown water?” Rowan asked curiously.

“You’ll get a kick out of this one, boss,” Chris chuckled. “Tell her, Bridge.”

Of course, the Texan would turn to the writer who enjoyed researching the backstories of even mundane items like soda to explain its making to the Aarders, and Bridget did not disappoint. She lectured that the ‘bubbles’ in the soda had been made by exposing a solution of ‘sweet brown water’ to high-pressure carbon dioxide, which, if continually stored under high pressure, would stay dissolved in the water until the moment one pops its container open.

“Fizz is what happens when the CO2 comes out of the water after the pressure’s been released. That’s how we make carbonated drinks,” Bridget finished.

“To use a piece of the air we breathe to create a taste that could rival even the nectar of the gods…” Awe filled Rowan’s expression. “How ingenious this Earth science is… I wish to learn more about it.”

“Well now we know what we’ll be sending over here next time,” Chris chuckled.

“A tablet full of 1st to 12th-grade science books,” Hajime guessed.

“I was thinking more along the lines of back-to-back seasons of Billy and Nighly, the Science Guys,” Chris admitted. “Those boys are way more entertaining than simple e-books.”

“What are e-books?” Rowan’s eyes were alight with interest. “And these Billy and Nighly…I assume they are the best of your science sorcerers?”

“We call them scientists,” Bridget replied, prompting a new discussion on Earth’s version of sorcerers to begin.

Listening to them discuss their world with Rowan and watching her praise their otherworldly wisdom caused the ever-present weight on Bram’s shoulders to lighten. Here was proof that he wasn’t wrong. Knowledge of the other world would be essential in elevating Lotharin’s status to the top of the imperium’s twelve kingdoms. Though in truth, Bram’s interests lay less in these scientists Rowan was fascinated with and more in those other experts who can make his refined taste buds crave more otherworldly delights.

“Soda is but the beginning…we shall seek out these artisans of Earth who can bring revolution to the kingdom’s cooking style.” As inspiration lit up inside his brain, Bram’s mind couldn’t help but turn its cogs. “Such experts bringing new flavors to Lotharin will mean a demand for ingredients, increasing the need for food production, meaning the building of more farms and more jobs working those farms… We’ll increase Lotharin’s wealth with a food trade that could rival even Thessalia in the southwest.”

“It would be great if Earthers also benefited from the trade,” Bridget thought aloud. “Is ‘real money trading’ possible between Earth and Aarde?”

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In the present, Bram recalled Bridget’s interesting question. Though its answer—and the experiment that led to it—was a memory the seventh prince failed to conjure right at that moment for Chris’ melodic drawl drew him out of his musings and back into the here and now where he rode atop his black stallion while leading his party through an impoverished street of Bellen.

“Once the studio’s up and running,” the Texan continued his report, “we’ll hire a dev team on our side that’ll work to integrate the Loom with the gear we’ve picked as the summoning beacon for y’all’s ritual over here.”

“That’ll be the Visionary II,” Bridget chimed in.

According to the otherworlders, ‘Visionary II’ was a newer version of the contraption that Bram had once seen in his vision which helped spark his original idea for the great undertaking.

“The Visionary II has a sleeker and lighter wireless visor with built-in high-end inside-out tracking and external object tracking. Its tactile gloves and supplementary body suit also offer better haptic feedback than the old second-gen VR tools,” Hajime explained.

Confusion flitted across Bram’s and Rowan’s faces.

“What Hajime means is that the capabilities of Visionary II’s hardware will help fool people into thinking this world isn’t real,” Bridget clarified.

“It will be the most realistic VR game they will ever play,” Hajime added, smiling sheepishly.

“I see,” Bram lied.

Truly, the science of Earth was difficult for him to comprehend just as it was challenging for Chris and Bridget to fully understand the sorcery of Aarde. Hajime was the exception though. The Japanese man seemed to easily comprehend Rowan’s lessons on sorcery when she taught him his first spell.

“Let me know if more investment is required,” Bram insisted.

In his mind, the seventh prince recalled Sir Anthony’s face, how his seneschal’s brows twitched after Bram had informed him of the large investment that he was making at the request of people he’d only just met. Sir Anthony had suggested using the shire’s operational budget instead of the seventh prince’s coffers, but Bram had refused to use the people’s money for this part of the great undertaking. Even now, despite the expanding sinkhole in his bank vault, Bram believed his decision was the right one.

“Lotharin’s wealth will be used for Lotharin.” The seventh prince’s gaze drifted to a tall spire a good deal away from where they were. “It’s why we’ve come here instead of meeting with Bellen’s lord.”

Though Bellen was part of Bastille Shire’s territory, the barony of House Leyen were lords of the city. Their matriarch, Baroness Lena, had proven herself loyal to the imperium on many occasions for she was once a sorcerer in direct service to the Sovereign. However, Bram wasn’t sure that loyalty extended to himself because rumors of Baroness Lena favoring visitors from the north had spread even to Bastille. Fortunately, the seventh prince hadn’t come to Bellen to test House Leyen’s oath to the Sovereign’s blood. He and his companions were in the city for another purpose…recruitment.

The party rode their horses up to the gate at the end of the lane. Beyond it was a shabby-looking manse that had seen better days much like the rest of the impoverished street.

“So, here’s where we shall find…” Rowan’s face turned contemplative. “…What did you call them again, Hajime?”

“Tech support,” Hajime answered.

“Tis an apt name for what we require.” Rowan pointed to the symbol engraved on the rusted wrought iron gate between them and the four-story residence; three eight-pointed stars set in a triangle formation. “From this sigil, I assume this coven can fulfill that need.”

“C-coven?!” Hajime glanced sideways at her, his eyes widening slightly.

Even Bridget’s face flashed with concern when she asked, “Crikey… You mean…a coven for vampires?”

“Vampires?” Bram repeated.

Hearing these two otherworlders mention the undead scourge sequestered in the faraway northern continent caused the seventh prince’s brows to stitch together. He found it strange that a world without magic would know of vampires and covens. Though, from the obvious fear in their expressions, Bram guessed that the meaning of a ‘coven’ on Earth was different from what it meant here on Aarde.

“There’s no cause for fear,” he promised.

The seventh prince then explained how a coven was not a place where evil gathered, but one where sorcerers came together in search of enlightenment.

“It’s a gathering of those who follow the same arcane traditions and sorcerous practices, united as they are in the common purpose of solving specific arcane mysteries,” he explained.

“Which, based on this coven’s sigil…” Rowan pressed her hand against the rusted wrought iron gate which groaned at her touch. “…should be divination, shamanism, and—”

With a single flick of her wrist, the gate gave way to her prodigious strength, with one-half of it flying off its hinges and crashing onto the overgrown front lawn beyond.

“Summoning arts,” she finished.

Bram sighed. “I remember asking you not to cause a scene.”

As the front door of the manse flew open, with several people in bright green robes rushing out of it, their hands glowing with the telltale sparks of magic, Rowan flashed Bram an impish grin.

“I’ve simply wrung the bell, My Prince,” she replied teasingly. “Now, shall we introduce ourselves?”