Wen Spencer - Wolf Who Rules

Yes, he needed to talk to Tinker. He had faith that once she was given opportunity to study the situation, she would find a solution. He brought a second Hand just so he could have one of the sekasha "baby" along to operate the walkie-talkie.

"Find out where domi is," Wolf said to Wraith and turned back to Jewel Tears. "I want Stone Clan to keep their distance from my domi. After what happened with the black willow, I do not trust any of you near her."

Jewel Tears looked away, giving a slight huff of indignation but didn't deny the implication that they meant Tinker harm.

Wraith came back with unease clear on his face. Wolf bowed his leave taking and headed for his Rolls.

"What is it?" Wolf asked Wraith once they were out of the Stone Clan's hearing.

" Domi is at the scrap yard. The dragon is there."

Wolf's heart leap at the news. "She's fighting the dragon?"

"No. Apparently, she's-talking - to it."

"No, I'm not talking to it." Tinker said with much disgust in her voice. She smelled of apples, butter and sugar, and her face had mysterious streaks of color paste on it - but otherwise she looked unharmed. "It's giving me math lessons - and I think my head is going to explode."

"Math lessons?" There were times he wondered if his English wasn't as strong as he thought it was.

His domi's workshop was normally ordered chaos, but it now looked like a storm front had passed through it. The digital wall boards were covered with elaborate designs and fluid pictures. Print outs were tacked to bare walls, extending the boards to each side and up onto the ceiling. A television cycled through pictures of the Ghostlands. Machines either half built, or partially dissembled covered all the table surfaces and the floor was littered with magazines, engine parts, and chewed tires.

The only sign of the dragon itself was its long tail sticking out from behind the worktable, thumping against the floor with a force that shook the entire trailer.

"I think its math." Tinker tugged at her hair as if she wanted to tear it out. "Whoever said math is the universal language should be hunted down and shot. Or maybe they thought that sentient creatures wouldn't have the attention span of a gnat."

"So you're safe with it?"

Tinker glanced toward Stormsong instead of the dragon for some reason. "I - don't know. It seems playful as a puppy, but it has sharp teeth - lots of them - in a big mouth."

Wolf shifted sideways until he could see around the table. Tinker's nagarou, Oilcan, and the dragon stared at a television screen while they manipulated something in their hands. On the television screen, a small human female in a skimpy red dress fought a tall muscle bound creature with energetic kicks and punches. The fight ended abruptly with the words WINNER flashing on the screen and the female bouncing around cheerfully. Oilcan groaned and slumped to one side.

"He - he learns fast." Tinker shook her head. "I've never met anyone that intimidated me with their intellect before - but I always thought that the person that did would be more -"

"Human?"

Tinker waved her hand, as if trying to sift out a better word, and then nodded. "I suppose that would work. The language is a huge barrier to understanding what's he's trying to explain to me."

"Have you learned anything useful?"

"This was educational." Tinker caught Wolf's arm and pulled him to the kitchen. On the counter was an odd sculpture. A rainbow of creamy paste whirled upwards like a tornado with paper plates dividing the various colors. It was supported by a silvery aluminum plate, which had been balanced on a base of soda cans.

The paste was the source of the color streaks on Tinker's face, and the smell of butter and sugar. Wolf smeared some off her face. "And this is…?"

"Frosting. Long story. Doesn't matter anymore. This," Tinker pointed to the structure. "I think this is a model of the Ghostlands. Look he's sculptured the frosting into a Roy G. Biv spectrum and at each color shift there's a universe marker - the paper plates. Well-at least I think that's what they are."

Tinker took out a camera from her dress pocket, and flipped up the screen. "I filmed it all." She played a minute of the dragon building the sculpture, rumbling in a low steady tone. "What we need is someone that speaks dragon. But, until then -" she folded the camera back up and stuffed it into her dress pocket. "This is what I think it's trying to tell me. Look, can you see down into the middle of this? He made a big production of dropping a lug nut down into there, and did a lot of pointing and talking. He took it out and dropped it a couple of times. And then the math started. I think- he's trying-maybe - to say that my gate is still active."

"Can you stop the Ghostlands from expanding?"

"If I can figure out a way to remove my gate, yes, I think it might close the Ghostlands completely. What I think is happening is this." She dragged him to the whiteboard.

Tinker swept her hand across dragon writing and the English words 'save: yes no' appeared. She touched the 'yes' and the board went white. Drawing a straight horizon line, she turned to him. "This is Turtle Creek before the chaos started. According to Stormsong, when you originally surveyed this area a hundred years ago, there was a fiutana here," she added a large purple oval under the line. "Now Lord Tomtom talked about protective spells that the oni had cloaking their compound, so I think this is why the oni were based here - which almost might indicate where their other camps are and why you can't find them."

Yes, that would explain much. "If the other springs in the area are cloaked, then we know that the oni are using them. Look for what is missing instead of what is there."

"Huh? Oh, yes, that would work. Now, my gate was here." She drew in a black circle above the line, and then added a second black circle at the bottom of the board. "And that's the gate in orbit. I set up a resonance between then." The resonance was represented by a wavy line connecting the two black circles that ran through the heart of the purple spring oval. "I think what Impatience is telling me is that along this line, a discontinuity emerged, which immediately affected the land under my gate."

She turned and typed on a keyboard. The television which had been cycling pictures of Turtle Creek stopped on a blur of blue. "This is thermal readings of the discontinuity. It's hard to see, but this area here." She tapped a circle at the heart of the screen. "That's the same size and shape as my gate, lying on its side."

Tinker turned back to the white board, and drew a series of black circles stacked inside the pool of purple. "See, as it sinks, the area affected by the gate would expand." She stepped back from the board, gazing at it. "I'm not a hundred percent sure this is an accurate model, but it explains why the effect is growing."

"Even though the gate in orbit was destroyed?"

"Each gate was designed to operate independently."

"So if we remove the gate, the discontinuity will heal?"

Tinker sighed. "I don't know. If I'm right, and we can get the gate out, it will at least stop the Ghostlands from growing."

Wolf considered what Jewel Tears claimed about the current forces working in the valley. "That would be good enough for now. We need to do something quickly."

"Well, I'm not getting anything done here." She picked up various items and slipped them into her pocket. "I can get to work on the retrieval now."

Stone Clan chose to wait until the next morning to protest Wind Clan's actions. Wolf wasn't sure why they had delayed, so he stood and listened to Earth Son rant on about protocol and etiquette.

"Wind Clan is insulting us at every step. Look," Earth Son pointed up the tall iron wood scaffolding to where Tinker stood, overseeing the installation of her scrap yard crane. Little Horse was up in the scaffolding with her, but the rest of her Hand were keeping to the ground. "Wind Clan's domi hasn't come down to hear our complaints."