The next morning, the domestic situation was reversed. Nguvu was back inside the house, standing in the middle of Amamihe's jungle Atrium, looking profoundly out of place. Amamihe was directing the interior design with the authority of a field marshal.
"The water flow is perfect," Amamihe stated, pointing toward the central fountain. "But the aesthetics require balance. That section needs the large, unpolished grey monolith—the one you threw into the Western Courtyard yesterday."
Nguvu's Mass Monster physique was already hot and restless. He was stripped down to his loincloth and a short leather vest. He felt absurdly constrained.
"You want me to move a two-ton boulder, indoors, across a moss floor, without disturbing the structural integrity of your indoor forest?" Nguvu asked, his voice flat.
"Yes. Use caution, Nguvu. And only use enough Ase to maintain the lift. No power spikes.
"Remember: controlled effort."
Nguvu sighed, resigning himself to the challenge. He found the grey monolith in the courtyard, channeled his Blue Aura gently, and lifted it. It was like lifting a pebble to him, but maintaining the gentle quality required more concentration than fighting ten cryptids.
He returned to the Atrium. The moss felt squishy and unstable under his feet. He began his slow, deliberate traverse, holding the monolith suspended a mere two inches above the turf.
"Left, Nguvu. Mind the sensitive roots of the Oshun-Ase vine," Amamihe instructed, standing near the fountain with Imani perched on the stone lip.
Nguvu adjusted his course. He stepped around a patch of giant water lilies. The process was agonizingly slow.
—'He is moving at the speed of Zamani. Tell him to use the flight he is too clumsy for feet.'— Imani's thought bounced off his Dapabie.
"I am not clumsy, cat," Nguvu muttered under his breath, focusing on keeping his Ase purely structural, not destructive.
He had navigated the pillars, avoided the vines, and was within three feet of the fountain when disaster struck.
Imani moved.
The tiny Sand Cat stretched languidly, then, in a blink of an eye, darted off the fountain lip, straight toward Nguvu's feet. She wasn't aiming for his skin, but for the one thing he couldn't afford to hit: a small, intricately carved wooden bird feeder that Amamihe had placed on the floor for the Astral Sparrows.
Nguvu saw the potential for disaster—a collateral damage incident that would bring Amamihe's wrath down upon him.
He halted the two-ton boulder in mid-air and, using a tiny, controlled expenditure of his Warrior Ase, manifested a miniature Shield construct to deflect the cat away from the feeder. The small, blue Aura-shield barely touched Imani, but it was enough to send her skidding harmlessly across the moss.
The cat landed perfectly and looked up at Nguvu with supreme, innocent surprise.
—'A completely unwarranted assault! Warlord attempts aggression on an innocent observer! The Ase control is suspect.'—
"Imani!" Amamihe cried, rushing forward. "Are you alright?"
"The cat attacked the feeder!" Nguvu protested, his voice strained from holding the monolith perfectly still. "I was preventing property damage!"
"She was chasing a dust mote," Amamihe said, checking the cat for injury. "You used an overt Ase construct inside the Atrium, Nguvu. We agreed on containment!"
"It was self-defense against a four-legged terrorist!"
Imani, recovered, trotted deliberately toward Nguvu's left foot. She paused, and then very slowly, very deliberately, she scraped her claws across the delicate, highly cultivated moss floor.
Nguvu could feel the life Ase draining from the vegetation under her tiny attack. Amamihe gasped.
—'I am marking my territory. This corner belongs to the feline hierarchy.'—
Nguvu's control snapped. The monolith, deprived of his conscious, gentle focus, slammed down the final two inches onto the floor.
It didn't crack the marble—thanks to Amamihe's earlier cultivation of the moss turf—but the sound was a concussive boom that sent a shockwave through the Atrium. The potted plants shivered violently, and one of the large, indoor trees shed an entire branch of ripe fruit.
Nguvu, breathing heavily, glared down at the Sand Cat, which was now innocently licking its paw.
"The stone is placed," Nguvu announced, wiping a sheen of sweat from his neck. "I require the Western Courtyard. I require a very large, non-sentient punching bag."
Amamihe, her anger cooled by the sudden, massive sound, looked from the immovable boulder to her furious husband, then to her innocent-looking cat.
"You may have the punching bag, Nguvu," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "But Imani gets to supervise the training session."