Sorcerer's Spin

by Anise Rae

  Mara clutched the strap of her pack until her fingernails dug into it. “Power United.” Her soft words carried in the silence. “So mighty and strong yet you enslave defenseless women.” No matter how scared she was, she could not step aside for this man. Silence was not an option.

  He lowered his hand and the picture crumpled against his thigh. “Ma’am, we’re just doing our jobs and trying to keep the West free of dangerous mages.”

  She put her hand on her spindle. “No. That’s not what you do. You take weak sorceresses, strap them to a wheel, and gut their vibes from their souls.”

  “You misunderstand.” He looked her over. “Or perhaps you don’t.” He strode forward, his hulking shoulders shifting right and left with each step as if they were connected by strings to his feet. “Sorceress. Your fingers give you away. I know my targets.”

  “But not the sorceress we’re looking for.” Another man, this one in a suit and tie leaned out from behind him, his frame much leaner. He patted the bigger guy on the shoulder. “And it’s more her charming face that clues one in than her poor battered fingers. Miss Rand is well-known to Power United, Frank.” Nils Lusman nodded to the bounty hunter.

  She almost sighed with relief.

  Nils played his role to perfection. An executive in the upper echelon of Power United, he was the only ally Trail of Strings—the organization that helped conscripted sorceresses escape—had inside the company. Mara was a volunteer, one among many whose names were buried within the group.

  Whoever the escaped sorceress was, Nils had most likely facilitated her escape only to be roped into retrieving her by the higher-ups at P.U. That sometimes happened.

  Mara donned her role almost as easily as Nils, stuffing back her fear as best she could. “Lose another one, Mr. Lusman? Considering her lack of power and that you practically starve them, it doesn’t say much for your competency.”

  Frank shrugged. “Oh, we’ll get her back.” He gave a chin up nod to Nils. “My partner is coming the other way, sir. She’s trapped. Guaranteed. And then it’s a fat payday for me.”

  By the stars, what they did to those poor women. Anger rolled through her like a yarn ball on the loose, tangling her in its threads.

  Nils pinched the bridge of his nose. “Guaranteed, you say? This girl has dragged us from the far end of the Republic and into another country for vibes’ sake.”

  “Sir, this ain’t no country. You’re asking for trouble if you think this place comes with laws and civilized folk.” He whipped out a pair of mage cuffs, square pieces of metal that prevented a mage’s power from working. He nodded at Mara. “I’ll getcha this one too, and then it’s an extra five hundred for me. You can make use of her somehow, even considering she’s got something wrong with her.” He tapped his temple, mirroring where Mara’s spectacles rested on her face.

  She lifted her chin. “Yes, something’s wrong with me. You should pass on this one.”

  Nils nodded. “We certainly will, Miss Rand. Your name is not on our list of conscripted sorceresses.”

  Vibe-poor sorceresses had few career options, and spinning copper wire for the power company’s hungry grid was the bottom of the job pool. It was a slow death sentence, one that came without a choice. The government conscripted low-powered sorceresses every year through a lottery and handed them over to Power United. It was a four-year sentence. Most never reappeared in society.

  Even when Nils was able to find a candidate to free, most of the sorceresses chose to flee to the Wild West instead of staying in the Republic. Mara didn’t blame them. She might have had enough of the Republic if she’d been stuck in Power United for a long time, too.

  “Although we will happily offer you employment, Miss Rand, if you are interested. Our sorceresses work for the betterment of the Republic. Where would our great country be without the electricity that keeps it running?” Nils smiled with pride.

  “Great, my ass!” a passenger hollered. “Elitist power-hungry pricks who keep the normals as third-class citizens.”

  An approving chorus of yeas filled the car, proving that it was populated with Nons…normals in Wild West lingo.

  Mara wasn’t about to argue with them. Even Frank looked wary. Everyone in the West was armed, hips strapped with guns, knives, and more guns. If they weren’t careful, they’d all be lynched before the train was out of sight of the station.

  A rush of noise flowed in behind her as the car’s front door opened again. She turned to see Gregor pacing toward her.

  A gnawing ache in her chest loosened, but a sudden pressure around her wrist grabbed her attention.

  The bounty hunter had lunged forth and locked the cuff around her. Shock rode in hard, a sense of panic on its tail. Stone walls closed around her mind.

  Gregor pulled a gun from nowhere and pointed it at the man. “Remove them. Now.” He squeezed her arm, keeping her close as she struggled to shake the metal off. “Easy, firefly. He’s not taking you.” His voice was calm.

  She turned into his shoulder, hiding her face, her arm stretched toward the awful bounty hunter.

  “Put the gun away, sir,” the hunter said. “I’m acting on the authority of the Republic of Mage Territories.”

  “I have to call vibe shite on that, hunter,” Gregor replied, low and easy. He wrapped his arm around her. “The Republic has zero authority here. You take that off her. Now. If I have to do it, it will be while standing next to your corpse.”

  “That would be a mistake, sir. Power United carries the same authority as the enforcers and even the Republic’s army.”

  “Remove the cuffs,” Nils snapped. “Or I’ll have your name taken off our roster of consultants.”

  “With all due respect, you ain’t my boss. This woman’s five hundred bucks to me. And if you erase my name, Miss Cecilia’s gonna have something to say about that. She’ll approve of this. She’ll probably give me another bonus.”

  “Frank. Seriously, you’re in deep trouble here.” Nils held up his hand. “Captain Whitman, I’m certain my consultant is going to see reason considering you’re a warrior mage.”

  “You know each other?” Mara gasped. She lifted her head away from Gregor as conspiracies circled through her mind.

  “I assisted Power United with one mission, Mara.” Gregor said, crisp and precise. “That’s over. But that’s how I met Nils. And Frank here is going to eat a bullet if he doesn’t let you free.”

  The bounty hunter shrugged. “Whatever. You ain’t worth my life.” The handcuff fell off with a twist of his key. Gregor yanked her out of the man’s hold and lowered his gun.

  Another roar of the open door and the fleeing sorceress dashed back in. Her eyes wide, she puffed for air. A cut along the top of her hand bled as she gripped the seatbacks. A man rushed in behind her.

  “Ah, there we are.” Nils smiled and straightened his tie. “I’ll see that you get paid double for this one, Frank, in light of our troubles here.”

  “I am not going back. Ever!” The sorceress caught Mara’s eye. “Please help me! I’m not one of their conscripted girls.”

  “That’s what they all say. Ignore her,” Nils muttered, an authentic tone of disgust in the words.

  The door opened again. Another bounty hunter and Cecilia, of all people, strutted in behind the fleeing sorceress.

  She smiled when she saw Mara and then tilted her head in surprise when her gaze landed on Gregor. “Well, hello, Captain,” Cecilia purred. She eyed his arm around Mara. “Playing in the dirty end of the vibes, I see. That can be fun…for a while. Is your friend with you?” She winked and continued without waiting for an answer. “I hope you’re not concerned about what you see here. AWOLs don’t happen often. The SLSS means we get a few random crazies now and then.”

  The Sorceress Lottery Selection System was the root of all evil as far as Mara was concerned.

  “Your system ruins lives,” Mara said.

  Cecilia rolled her eyes. “Sometimes our lottery picks are a bit wild. D
angerous even.” She yanked a yellow paper from the sorceress’s hand. “How did you get this train ticket?”

  Mara knew. She provided an easy distraction. “This is the usual treatment for sorceresses under the control of Power United. Now you can see it for yourself, Captain.”

  “I’m not a captain anymore,” he said softly.

  “I am outside the laws of the Republic!” the sorceress cried. “You have no right to take me back.” She looked at Nils. “How can you do this? You bastard!”

  “Case in point,” Cecilia offered. “She wouldn’t be saying such things if she wasn’t really conscripted.”

  “You want this one, Miss Cecilia?” Frank thrust his thumb at Mara. “‘Cause I’ll get ‘er for you.” He held up his cuffs by his finger.

  “Frank, you’re a slow learner,” Gregor said.

  Cecilia smiled. “I’ll pass on that one. For now. Let’s focus on little Miss Runaway, here.”

  The desperate sorceress would never get out again if they captured her, and she wouldn’t survive at her wheel for long. Even Nils wouldn’t be able to help her. If freedom was in this girl’s future, Mara had to do something. She knew what it was like to be chained to a wheel. She’d experienced the results for herself, so had many of the women in her mill. This girl would not be taken back to hell on her watch. Reaching into her vest pocket, she tossed the sorceress the tiny drop spindle tucked inside.

  The sorceress spun it immediately. Mage power swirled through the car with the force of a miniature tornado. Mara’s pack pushed her off balance and she fell to the floor, nearly taking Gregor with her.

  Shouts of rage burst from the crowd of Nons at the mage power. They stood en masse. Trouble was coming. The sorceress dashed out of the car at one end. Cecilia and the second bounty hunter pushed past Mara’s prone form to escape out the opposite end. Nils and Frank were fast on their heels.

  Gregor yanked her to her feet, but not fast enough.

  The passenger to her right, a balding man with a pot belly, pulled a gun, so close to her she could smell it, sour and sharp. He started a chain reaction among the rest of the passengers. Before two seconds passed, at least thirty black metal barrels of varying shapes and sizes pointed at them. They promised death. The fearful, angry people beyond were mere extensions of their guns.

  The man closest to Mara pressed his gun to her temple. The cold, hard pressure throbbed against her. She was going to die on this train because of Power United.

  “We don’t want any trouble.” Gregor’s voice was calm and soft.

  How did he always manage that?

  “Watch, I’m putting away my gun.” He moved slowly. “We just want to leave. We’re going to back out of here and everyone’s gonna be okay.”

  Farther down, a group of men marched forward. Anger burned in their narrowed eyes.

  “Mages don’t rule here!” The tallest of them pointed a meaty finger. “You think this is the Republic where you can cast your spells willy-nilly?” Mage vibes provoked a primitive fight-or-flight reaction in Nons. Apparently, the former was leading the way today. “Let me tell you, witches, this is the West. You can’t go shooting energy whenever you want.”

  “Get ‘em off the train!” a woman behind them called out.

  Echoes of agreement surrounded them. “Oh, they’re leaving all right,” the man beside her said. “Move.” He bumped the gun’s barrel against her temple. Pain blossomed.

  Gregor pulled her back, one slow step at a time. “We apologize for the disruption. We meant no harm.”

  The balding gunman followed them out the door and onto the platform between the cars. Beneath the open pattern of the metal floor, the ground rushed past. The hot wind of the train’s movement blew her hair across her face, the pressure popping her ears.

  The Non-mage cocked the gun.

  She might have breathed out a prayer if she believed any deity was listening and if she could have managed to form any words. They were going to die right here and her sorceresses would lose their only protector.

  Gregor yanked her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her, a tight fit with her full pack. He gave a hard yank and then he jumped, taking her with him. They went flying.

  Gregor encircled his spell around them just in time. A sphere of vibes surrounded them like a giant, cushioned bubble. The first bounce against the land squeezed the breath from his lungs, but his spell held. They rolled over the land as the train stretched out, a snake in his peripheral vision, leaving them behind.

  Good riddance.

  He had Mara. That was all that mattered.

  He held her tight, one arm around her lower back beneath her pack and the other against the nape of her neck.

  Mara was stiff, her body clenched. He wanted to tell her to relax, to go with the fall, but the words pressed out of him every time they flipped.

  The bubble spell kept them from touching the ground. No rocks scraped their sides. No dirt marked their skin. No dust settled over them, though a dirty cloud stretched out behind them, a lengthening trail. He caught a glimpse of it every time they spun around. He fought the temptation to close his eyes, but someone needed to drive this thing. Better yet, someone needed to stomp on the brakes.

  Their packs jostled hard. Mara grunted with a steady rhythm each time he flipped on top of her, pushing her weight into the uneven surface of her huge pack, her legs flopping beneath. Her long sword bumped against them, caught between their hips.

  “Hang. On.” His words jerked with the swirl of their ride.

  Her energy puffed against him as they went round and round. The power grew, tickling and cushioning the jolting ride.

  Finally, they slowed enough that he risked popping their vehicle with a snap of his energy. Hot air burst around them as they rolled to a stop against the rocky ground. He lifted his weight off her.

  Mara lay on her pack, panting for air as she stared at the sky. Her feet tilted out to the sides; her arms drooped to the ground. Power fluffed around her. It encompassed him in its soft touch, its strength skating toward the sun. Her eyes glowed softly bronze.

  He sat up, his mage sense open and seeking. “Are you all right? Does anything hurt?” He could have formed a scan spell and checked her for broken bones, but it wasn’t his finest ability.

  “I’m good.” Her voice was high and light. “That was an impressive spell.” She moved toward him like she might rest on her side, but her pack’s straps stopped her.

  He pulled it off her, helping her to sit. Her curls dashed every which way and he brushed a lock from her face.

  “That spun my power right out of me,” she gasped. “That’s never happened in my life.”

  He knew that if she were able to put it back inside her, she would have. She was the equivalent of a mage parading naked.

  Her cheeks were bright red and she couldn’t hold his gaze.

  “It probably would happen to every sorceress who got thrown off a train and spun circles over the ground,” he offered politely, though it was untrue and they both knew it.

  She arched one eyebrow, revealing her disbelief, as she waved her hand through her power. The vibes moved as if they were a physical substance in the air. Though he knew mages who were extraordinarily powerful—he was no slouch himself—he’d never heard of anyone who could let their power free like this. “You said I get to lie to you once. Is that your one lie?” she asked.

  He narrowed his eyes. “That reminds me. I’m adding to the rules. You get one lie—already used up. Also used up are all of your chances at abandonment. That’s twice now. Goddess, Mara! I watched you float away with a river maiden. Have you seen their teeth?” He wanted to shout. No cadence mage ever shouted. They were too controlled, too appreciative of sound to abuse it like that.

  “I haven’t.” She scanned the ground and found her spectacles. She tucked them into her white blouse. “And I don’t believe you have either.”

  He practically sputtered. No cadence mage sputtered either. “I�
�ve seen image spells.”

  “Images designed by mages who likely doctored them to appear scary and dangerous. You can’t trust things like that.”

  “I’d like to be able to trust you.”

  She pressed her hand against her chest. “My trustworthiness is not in question, Mr. Thief. I asked you to cross the river with me. I have to get to the city of Kansas on time and get back to my mill.” She spoke with matter-of-factness. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

  “Funnily enough, that’s my goal too. Imagine if we’d gotten on the train together. There’s a damn good chance we’d still be on it and heading to our destination in a timely manner.”

  She looked away, her chin high. Her power retreated as if her stubbornness helped her regain control of it. She donned her specs. “Daegan wasn’t going to take me across.”

  “He might have had a good reason to refuse.”

  Her brown eyes went wide with surprise. “You agree with a glister? You hate them.”

  “Yes, and Daegan did everything he could to reinforce that sentiment. However, look what’s happened to you so far and you’ve only been here for a fifth of morning.”

  She drooped. Guilt punched him in the chest. “Yeah, well, I still have a job to accomplish,” she said.

  Screw the job. That’s what he wanted to say. It would have been a waste of words. She’d made her goal clear.

  For now, they were alive and unhurt. He just had to keep them that way. “I’m here to help. If you’ll let me.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. His hand brushed the line of her jaw. She met his gaze and went still except for the pulse at the base of her neck. It fluttered. She was close enough to kiss. He’d been thinking about kissing her since he’d dropped her off at her house on her bicycle. He felt the energy between them heighten, but a rush of caution followed it.

  Don’t mess this up.

  She cleared her throat, leaning away an inch or two. “Thank you for whatever that spell was. That’s some power you have.” She put her hand on his wrist. “You saved my life.”