[A short story that takes place during The Maker’s Ark. Links to my other work are here. I’ve started work on revising Fall, so there will be more short stories and vignettes for a while. I’ll have something new up around November 28th.

The Gardener is dedicated to Ursula Vernon, writer, artist, and gardener.]



“I think you’ve done very well,” said Yiskah.

“So far,” said Flicker, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice, as she looked at the main meeting spot, a little to the south of the Tree, where Eirik Silvertongue stood talking with the now marginally less disgruntled One Hand, surrounded by a group of einherjar and a few Choosers.

Journeyman stood beside her, lending moral support, and she squeezed his hand. “But there are so many people, they’re all looking to me to solve everything, or decide something, or justify what they already want to do, or make something go back to the way it used to–”

“Flicker!” came a bellow from the left, and Flicker snapped her head up.

“Yrsa!” This was something unexpected and good–a combination Flicker hadn’t thought very likely today. Flicker sped up to glide over, then slowed back down to give Yrsa a hug. Her arms didn’t go all the way around. Yrsa was big.

Yrsa was a fire giant.

Her skin was the color of freshly cooled lava, her hair curly and streaked with red, like lava that hadn’t quite cooled yet, and she wasn’t extraordinarily tall, but she was wide. Einherjar were like narrow reeds compared to her.

And she was the first person Flicker had met, in the whole Nine Worlds, who had helped her.

“Good to see you again!” Yrsa said, and grinned. She was wearing a heavy coverall made of a type of hide Flicker knew very well, a helmet with a tipped back faceplate that looked more like a welders mask than a battle helm, and thick gloves. She leaned on a long-handled implement, like a Chooser might lean on her spear. Yiskah and Journeyman joined them.

“Yrsa, these are my friends Yiskah–everyone here calls her Eyetaker, because that’s what she did to the Wanderer–and Journeyman. Journeyman, Yiskah, this is Yrsa. She’s really nice–she gave me the hides for my radiation suit, when I was hunting the Wanderer.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Yiskah. She raised an eyebrow at Flicker. "Radiation suit? You mean that two-piece thing? It didn’t look very protective.“

"I was the one radiating. I wouldn’t have been able to wear any clothes at all otherwise, which makes it hard to talk to most people. It didn’t melt or catch fire at over 3000 K. It worked really well, except–”

“Chafed a bit, I expect,” said Yrsa. "No way to avoid that with fire lizard hide, unless you wear unders, and those would have burned.“

"Yeah,” said Flicker, and smiled. "But it did what I needed, when I needed it. Thank you so much.“

"Glad to help!”

Yiskah was studying the other end of the item Yrsa was leaning on. "That’s an interesting battle axe. Your own design?“

"Nope. Traded the Builders for it–was going through regular ones too fast, they kept dissolving or getting eaten.”

Yrsa grinned again. "And it’s not a battle axe. It’s a shovel. I garden.“

"Then why is there dried blood on the edge?”

“Fire lizards keep trying for my glowberry bushes. My plot is next to some hot springs, where a glacier meets a hel-crack, so there’s a lot of them. They’re dumber than rocks. That’s why I have so many hides.”

“Must be some garden.”

Journeyman gave a short laugh. "You think? She grows things no one else can grow. Things no one else would dare grow. Things people have nightmares about anyone, anywhere, growing. Things beautiful and hideous and wondrous and dangerous. There are magicians that would give… too much, for some of the things she grows. Some have died, from mishandling things she’s grown.“

He took a breath. "Her garden is the Muspelgarden. She’s the Gardener.”

“Well, I do grow a fine variety, it’s true,” said Yrsa. "Say, since you’re here, did you ever find out what happened to that Obliterator Vine of mine that got stolen a while back?“

"Yeah,” said Journeyman. "It was an Earth magician that went after it, a summoner who was good with sneaky flyers.“

Flicker was still getting used to Journeyman’s breadth of acquaintance. She really shouldn’t be surprised anymore–staying in touch with unusual people everywhere had always been his specialty.

"A human, eh? Did he try to make the grapes into wine? Was he that much of a–”

“Yes, he was, and yes, he did.”

“Oh, blight. Anyone die?”

“Just him. A bit of luck, there–he apparently tried a sip, then lost his wits and drank his whole batch. He was already dead when I found him. He decided, since he was feeling so marvelously destructive and megalomaniacal from the wine, to summon one of those big, dumb demons–all claws and pincers and spikes and armor. He botched the protective circle and the demon ate him. It was still giggling from the aftereffects of the wine when I arrived, fortunately, so it was easy to banish.”

“Well,” said Yrsa. "Glad the vine didn’t get anyone else. I haven’t tried any more of them, since. Doesn’t seem worth the risk.“

"Heh. That’s one way to look at it. I didn’t tell you how I found him. He decided–probably after the wine, but before the demon–to plant the rest of the vine, right next to a large structure made out of wood infused with something it really liked.”

“Oh, wasn’t he sharp as mud. Did you stop it?”

“Flicker did.”

“I did?” said Flicker.

“It was last year,” said Journeyman. "You were on call. It was that railroad trestle in Oregon.“

"The one you just said ‘Kill it with fire?’ I turned it all into plasma, but I kinda wondered.”

“Yup, that was the one. The vine ate more than half the treated wood in under a day. Didn’t want any of it getting loose and finding another receptive spot.”

“Oh.”

“A good pyre was the right way to stop it,” said Yrsa, looking relieved, then turned back to Flicker. "Sorry, didn’t mean to forget my manners. Greta told me you were holding a Thing today, and I have a question or two for you, if you still have time.“

Flicker smiled. "Sure. You’re easy to to talk to–it’s not work, like most of the rest.”

“Well, now, don’t go jumping to conclusions just yet.” Yrsa scratched the back of her neck and looked uncomfortable. "First, there’s a friend of mine that’s been doing a favor for me that might get him into trouble. And I want to make sure it doesn’t. If you tell me to have him stop, I will, but any blame should fall on me, not him.“

"Um, okay, but I have no idea what you might be talking about,” said Flicker. "And I do a lot better at deciding things if I know the background–especially here, where I can’t look anything up the way I usually do. Could you start at the beginning?“

"The beginning. Right.” Yrsa hawked and spat, then leaned on her shovel again, and looked off into the distance, towards the Tree. "I’ve been having trouble with fire lizards for a long time. Pretty much since I started the garden. And I don’t like to waste anything, even fire lizard carcasses.“

She waved a gloved hand. "Now most dead things I can use as fertilizer, but fire lizards are a little tricky, because their livers are poisonous to just about everything. So I take the livers out first. I had to do something with them, because even dumping them in lava isn’t always safe. And I came up with an idea. Something to do with the livers that wouldn’t hurt anyone and would maybe bend the noses of a few folks I didn’t care much for.

"I cooked up the livers, and whenever I got enough, I’d take a batch to someone. A prisoner. The folks who put him where he was weren’t feeding him. Now, magic can keep you alive, but you still need something for flesh and bone, or you’ll just get thinner and thinner. And he could eat fire lizard livers. So I fed them to him, for years and years.

"And he asked me, after a while, if there was anything he could do for me, if he ever got loose. Because he didn’t like any obligation he couldn’t pay back. I told him about a favor he could do, not thinking much of it, because I didn’t think he’d ever be loose while I was still alive.”

“Then you came. With your pyres and rocks, bringing some prophecies and breaking others.” Yrsa laughed, a deep booming sound. "The Norns would be in a state, if they were still alive, which is probably why they aren’t. And the day after you ended the Wanderer, my friend showed up at my garden. He was burned good and proper, and still pretty weak, but he said you’d broken him loose, and he was there to do the favor I’d asked for, all that time ago.“

"The Wolf,” said Flicker. "Your friend is the Wolf. I didn’t think he had friends.“

"Well, he was hardly going to admit it. Wasn’t safe.”

“You… You didn’t ask him to eat someone, did you?”

“No, no. Of the folks I might have liked to see him eat, you killed two, the third was already dead, and the last one, who wasn’t quite as bad…” Yrsa looked over to where One Hand was still talking to Eirik. "Well, the Wolf already got a good bite out of him a while ago, so I figured that was fair.“

"So what was the favor?”

“Oh, I asked him to pee around the edges of my garden, to warn animals off. Mark of a hunter is an old gardener’s trick, but with the hot springs, there’s brimstone and alkali everywhere, and not much can get through that. The Wolf can. It’s helped a lot lately, because when an animal does get in, it either eats something it shouldn’t, or one of my plants eats it, and that doesn’t turn out well, either way.”

Flicker frowned. "I don’t see the problem. I gave those woods to the Wolf, but I didn’t say he had to stay there all the time.“

"He said he wasn’t supposed to eat anywhere else. And there are sometimes things at the edges, with no sense of smell–well, no sense, period–when he makes his rounds. And he eats them. He’s gotten a few fire lizards, too. He claims they aren’t quite as good when I don’t cook the livers, but I think he just says that to make me laugh.”

Yrsa waved her hand again. "But anyway, I don’t know how strict your law is, and I don’t want him in trouble.“

Flicker straightened. This she could handle. She wished more of the problems brought to her had been this straightforward. "All right. I told the Wolf, when I gave him the woods, not to eat anyone outside of it without a good reason. Eating animals that might cause a hazard in your garden is a good reason.”

She pulled out her handcomp and made a note. "There, it’s officially a Good Reason. Yiskah, tell the recorders and translators. Might as well make this an example, as long as I’m setting precedent.“

Yrsa nodded. "Thank you, that’s a load off my mind. Now the next bit is more something for you to think about. I suppose I should give the start, too, since that’s the way you like.”

She looked over toward the einherjar again. "After you left the first time, with the Wanderer dead, the Hall gone, and all, and before you came back to fix things, there were a lot of of einherjar who were still alive who didn’t know what to do. Not at all. Some of them decided they’d rather die than fade or turn bandit, and didn’t see any other choice.

“And they’ve always been big on battle and honor, so a lot of those decided to head for the Wolf’s wood, to challenge him to combat. An einherjar isn’t going to have a chance against the Wolf, but it was an honorable way to go, to their thinking. And the Wolf did kill some of them.”

“Yes,” said Flicker. "I heard, from Eirik and the others, after they came to me.“

"Well, there was one group that went into the woods and had a fog come up, and they got completely lost. They heard the Wolf howl a couple times, but they never got close, and when the fog lifted, they were out the other side of the woods, in a ravine that leads close to my place. I was coming back from a quick trip and heard them arguing about what to do next, so I stopped to talk.”

“They were in pretty grim shape.” Yrsa looked at Flicker again. "Thin and desperate. But I had an idea, because I had a problem, too–not as bad as theirs, but still. I grow a lot of things that take extra attention–you can’t just plant them and go. Not safe. I’ve added helpers as my garden has grown.“

Yrsa turned her head and spat. "But two of them had a friend that thought the Wanderer’s promises and his big war sounded like a fine idea, so they went off together to join him, and got themselves killed. Probably by your mother’s Choosers, though I don’t hold it against them. And my best helper didn’t go, but her brother did, and she had to go back home to take over the steading. So I was shorthanded.

"I told those einherjar I had a job for them if they were willing. It was dirty, hot, hard, and dangerous–but they’d be well fed, it was worthwhile work, and if they died in the Muspelgarden, they’d get a spot in my Remembrance plot, under the flowers, and that was a place of honor, no matter what anyone else said.

"They said yes, I set them to work, and there were enough of them I was able to put in some extra plots of Blaze Beans–their taste takes getting used to, but they grow like anything where there’s water, mud, and magic, they’ll keep a body together, and a lot of other places nothing was growing at all. Helped quite a few folks get by until you came back. And the einherjar were slow to open up at first, but I’ve talked to a couple of them. And one of them reminded me of something you probably need to know, if you don’t already.”

Yrsa scratched the back of her neck again. "Those people you have going around finding out who is where, and writing it all down? There are a lot of folks in hiding who aren’t going to talk to them, aren’t going to get near them, and they’ll never find. A lot. You know why?“

"Why?” asked Flicker.

“Because you have einherjar guarding them, and they don’t trust einherjar, any einherjar. Or most Choosers. With good reason–they were the Wanderer’s enforcers. And that way of thinking isn’t going to change quickly. It’s why those who hid are still alive, while some other folks aren’t.”

That was depressing, but made a lot of sense. "I sent einherjar with the field workers because they are humans from Earth,“ said Flicker, "and I don’t want any of them to get killed. It’s not a census–I want them to talk to people to find out what is already working, and who needs help. If they want to keep hiding, that’s fine. But it sounds like some of them could probably use that help.”

“Yeah, but she’s right,” said Journeyman. "If they’re scared enough, it won’t matter. Maybe you could send a few workers out with Builder guards instead. It will take a while, but they can try to fill in the gaps.“

Yrsa grinned again. "Or trolls. I know a few who might be willing to help.”

Yiskah looked thoughtful. "I imagine a number of the groups in hiding are trolls themselves.“

Yrsa waggled her hand. "Some. And some are mixed. And if they see a troll with a human, they’ll know something new is going on. So they might be more willing to talk.”

Flicker made another note. "If you think it will work, and we can get volunteers, I’ll tell the surveyors to try it.“

"All right.” Yrsa nodded. "I’ll drop a word in a few places. And things have been growing pretty well, since your dance. That will help.“

"Growing.” Flicker looked around again, at the lush grass and the groups of people talking. "That’s what I want. There’s been enough destroying. It will be nice to see things grow for a while.“

Yrsa smiled. "You’ll get no argument from me there. No argument at all.”