Agents Of Chaos: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Federal Agents of Magic Book 4)
Page 5
“Very well, Dreven, thank you.” She nodded regally. “What can the unimprisoned members of our group do for you?” It’s never bad to remind a superior of a former leader’s failure.
The figure raised his hands to the side. “The natural question would be for me to ask you the same—what can you do with your leader imprisoned?”
Oh, touché, dick. “I assure you that anything Vincente could be relied upon to handle, I can accomplish, and probably more effectively. After all, it was my people and I who captured Rhazdon’s Defense for you, was it not?”
His teeth went back into hiding as he frowned. “It’s interesting that you bring that up. I cannot seem to obtain a clear answer on how the final events of that particular operation occurred. Perhaps you can illuminate me?” The smugness in his voice colored the request and demonstrated that there was more to it than simply seeking information.
He suspects. Fine. No one knows for sure except me, Vincente, and the would-be heroes who tried to stop us. She shrugged. “We were headed for the portal. He was injured, defeated, and I pulled him along with me when the enemy made their final attack. I sent the artifacts through and tried to draw him in with me—to rescue him—when they latched onto him. Some sort of force rope.”
Oh yes, she’d noticed the woman use it against her alleged superior and imagined he might have heard about it. “He was yanked away as I struggled against my adversary, but another of them—a troll—attacked and knocked me into the portal. I barely closed it before they pursued me to reclaim the prize.” She carefully didn’t mention the true happenings and definitely did not reveal the artifact’s constant whispered demands to dispose of Vincente and claim his power and authority for herself.
She wished she could see his eyes during the long pause that followed. Finally, the robe’s shoulders shrugged. “No matter. Soon, we will retrieve him, and he shall lead again. In the meantime, you must gather your people together and whip them into the best fighting force they can be in the shortest amount of time available. In the very near future, we will act on many fronts, and you will be called upon.”
She lowered her gaze demurely. “Yes, Dreven, sir. We’ll be ready. You have my word.”
He raised his head, and she finally saw his eyes—intense, burning through her own. “Your word had best be good, Sarah, or you will discover what happens to those who fail…or to those who betray.” His final words accompanied a release of magic, and the figure ghosted away to nothingness.
Sarah fell back in her chair with a sigh and closed her eyes. The artifact’s whisper was intense, almost joyful. He acknowledges our power. We shall now not relinquish it for anything or anyone. You have done well. A wash of pleasure flowed through her to ease the constant pain she felt since the return to this world. The artifact was the only thing that could grant her surcease, and it did so only when her actions aligned with its purpose. Fortunately, they were of one mind on the future direction they should take.
She stood, lifted the statuette and returned it to the safe, closed the door, and spun the dial to lock it again. The coin she slipped into a round pendant that nestled hidden between her breasts under the tight black dress she wore. The metal would grow warm if the coin did, allowing her to sense any summons.
Another survey of the office led her to decide then and there that once the Vincente issue was permanently settled, she would have the space redecorated. Expensive wood instead of cheap metal. A place to enjoy rather than a place to avoid. When I am in charge, that’s only the smallest thing I’ll change. These people will know what it is to be led. Especially the humans. In fact, perhaps it’s best if I give them a reminder right now.
As she stalked down the stairs, every person who saw her suddenly found a need to look away from her harsh smile and glow of anticipation. Perfect. Yes, fear will remind you to obey me. Her wand felt warm in her hand as if it, too, was filled with anticipation for the examples she would make and the service she would require.
In the back of her mind, the artifact whispered, an ever-present partner now. Yesssssssss. Show them your power.
Chapter Seven
Dreven arrived in the ruined courtyard simultaneously with the other council members. He had postponed this gathering as long as reasonably possible following their last round of attacks. His purpose had been to pin down their future plans before he invested the time and effort to bring them together again.
Mostly, he was simply tired of all of them, other than the beautiful and deadly witch who sashayed down the path across from him. He tilted his head in acknowledgment, and she licked her lips. Once she confirms that I don’t possess the artifact, her desire will dwindle significantly, I am sure. He felt no end of frustration over the matter, despite his knowledge from the start that the armor was not to be his. Yet. Perhaps someday, though.
The broken stones witnessed the descent of the others, the dwarf to his left, the Kilomea opposite, the underground gnome, and the witch who completed the circle. Once they were in place, he waved his wand and summoned the protective shield that would obscure them from prying eyes and conceal the sounds of their conversation from detection.
In a breach of etiquette, Iressa spoke first. “What news? Is it all that we expected?” Her voice held a moan of anticipation only partly concealed. Her passion for power was her defining characteristic, the thing that was both the most frightening and most dependable about her.
He raised his hands to forestall other questions. “I have answers for all that you might wish to know. Please allow me a moment to share them before we move on to other matters.” The Kilomea, no fan of the witch, twitched her lips at the potential put-down, but Dreven knew that Iressa, his secret partner on the council, would not interpret it as anything more than a friendly tease.
“We achieved each of our objectives on the night in question. More than a dozen teams in various cities stole items seemingly at random to cover the theft of the few things we truly wanted. Along the way, we managed to damage the group which opposes us—this ARES—and more importantly, gathered vital information about it. And, to answer Iressa, yes, we succeeded in retrieving the ultimate prize, Rhazdon’s Defense, which is now in the hands of one who ranks above us all.”
A mixture of expressions appeared on the faces of his co-conspirators. The dwarf looked satisfied, the Kilomea energized, the gnome frustrated, and Iressa… Well, the look on her face portended both risk and reward for whoever she currently targeted. Likely someone above, if she can figure out who they are. I must ensure she cannot. The single exclusive power he held as the leader among equals was the connection to those more powerful than the members of the council, an access he valued as equal to his very life and guarded with fierce jealousy. He would not hesitate to kill any being that threatened it. Even Iressa, although it would be a crime against beauty to do so. Dreven knew he walked a risky path in his alliance with the witch, one that could see him lost, but he couldn’t resist the game.
The dwarf, Jarkko, spoke into the pause that followed Dreven’s words. “It is, unfortunately, the nature of the world that the best prizes flow to those at the top. What is left for us as a reward for our hard work?”
The Kilomea scoffed. “Hard work? What have you done besides talk? My people have been in the thick of things on multiple occasions and have suffered for their efforts. Many are still suffering. If there are rewards to be had, they must come first to us. To them.”
The gnome was thoughtful as he spoke. “Now, now, Pesharn, you know that we have all performed our part. Some gathering information, some leveling the path ahead, some working on plans yet to grow to fruition. Just because your participation has been more direct does not entitle you to special treatment.”
The giant female looked ready to respond with violence instead of words but Iressa took her turn to speak. “Friends, colleagues, remember that we are still at the start, here. We’ve struck a mighty blow, one that resonates with our enemies above and below the ground.” She turne
d to face him and raised a crimson nail to touch her lip. “Dreven, what lies ahead?”
He shuddered inwardly, but whether from fear or desire he couldn’t say and had no ambition to find out. He mastered himself, locked his arms behind his back, and straightened his spine. “With the addition of the individual artifacts, we make our followers stronger and thus draw closer to our endgame, where we will assert our dominance over the humans as well as those less capable in magic than we are. As it should be. As it must be.”
Unknown to the members of the council was the fear that bound those above, shared with him only once by his patron, of something more powerful in the Universe than either Earth or Oriceran, and the need to be ready for it. If that readiness also comes with power, authority, and subservient beings to do our wills, well, that’s simply a bonus. He looked around the circle and considered the members. Of them all, Iressa was the only one he would take pains to protect when the pivotal moment came. The others were useful tools, at best. And, perhaps, she might be grateful.
He shook his head to pull his thoughts back to the present. “Risks and rewards abound, as always, of course.” The comment drew a laugh as he’d intended. “It is fair to say that our last effort was the riskiest to date and that the ones to follow will exceed it, one and all. In order to ameliorate that danger, however, there is an opportunity that we cannot pass up.”
The dwarf asked, “Will we receive direct support from those above?”
“We’ll have their good wishes, as always.”
Pehsarn laughed. “So, we have given them one of the most powerful artifacts known to all Oriceran, and their reply is good wishes?” She snorted. “It almost makes all the sacrifice and effort seem worthwhile.”
He chucked in response. “Their regard is no small thing, but it is perhaps less…material than we might like.”
Ushev only scowled when his turn to speak arrived, and Iressa offered the next query. “So, tell us, Dreven, what is it that you want from us?” The emphasis on the word want was enough that it killed the seductive effect entirely. Mostly. Okay, somewhat.
He cleared his throat. “We’ve identified three names, principals in the enemy organization. We will prepare for our next major strike by acting against them personally.”
The dwarf rubbed his hands together in approval. “Oh, yes, exactly what we should be doing. Who are they, and how can I assist?”
Pesharn shook her head. “We have been down this road. It did not end well.”
The underground gnome cackled. “Just because you and your people are incompetent does not mean the idea is unsound.” The Kilomea growled and shifted her weight toward the smaller creature, who seemed determined to provoke her. Again, the witch intervened. “I will happily join you and Jarkko in taking the lead on this. Three of them and three of us.”
He smiled, the outcome exactly what he’d expected it would be. “For Pesharn and Ushev, then, another challenge. We must find a way to break the security around the prison that holds my subordinate and Pesharn’s warrior. We’ll show them—decisively—that their efforts to contain us are inadequate and always will be.” They nodded. “Now, Jarkko, Iressa, and I should converse alone about our operation.” He dismissed the shield, and the duo strode away in opposite directions.
Once he had reestablished the barrier to sight and sound, both the dwarf and the witch dissolved into laughter. The stocky male managed to get words out first. “Those two. Working together. Did you see the looks on their faces?” His head tilted back as he fell into gales of mirth. Iressa’s laugh was the most appealing thing about her, and again, he had to remind himself of the danger she presented, both in general and to him personally.
She wiped her eyes and shook her head. “They will not enjoy the task you’ve set for them, Dreven. But now, what of our objective? Who are the targets?”
He smiled. “We’ve gathered information from all around the northeast portion of their country. Conveniently, they are geographically separated at the moment, so we must plan our strikes quickly to ensure they cannot support each other.” The others nodded. He turned to the dwarf. “Your target will be one named Carson Taggart in their capital city. He leads the organization there and overall.”
Jarkko clapped twice. “Excellent. I have people there already.”
“I know, which is why you are perfect for this man. Iressa, you have his immediate subordinate, the human known as Bryant Bates, who is currently in their city to the far northeast.” She purred in reply, and he decided he would not trade places with the man even if a fortune was in the offing. He would not want the witch to attack him with damage on her mind.
“And you?” she asked, her voice breathy and enticing.
“My target is the most appealing of all. One Diana Sheen, who captured my subordinate and will very, very soon learn that opposing us comes at a cost.” As he thought of the various punishments and tortures he could deliver to the woman, the darkest part of his mind chuckled contentedly. A great cost indeed.
Chapter Eight
The day was warm and sunny, perfect for a ballgame. They’d decided to park at the office and walk to the North Shore where the city’s stadiums stood side-by-side, connected by parking and businesses that served the sports crowds. Bryant and Diana wore dark Pirates home jerseys, and Rath bounced alongside in a white road jersey, the golden numbers and letters gleaming in the bright light from above. All three had identical black baseball caps with the team logo on them.
Diana felt more relaxed than she had in a while. “I’m glad you finally made it down for a game.”
Bryant laughed. “Busy busy, you know how it is.”
She snorted. “Get real. You could portal down here whenever you wanted.”
“Magic leaves traces. Skilled trackers like the Kilomea have the ability to ferret them out. It’s always best to stay under the radar when possible.”
“Rath is the only troll in town outside the kemana, as far as I know. I’m not sure under the radar is an option for me.”
“Well, then, perhaps you should be the one opening a portal for me.”
Diana thought back to Nylene’s warning about expending magical energy and grimaced. “Yeah, maybe not.” She changed the subject quickly. “Rath, have you watched baseball on TV to get ready for the game?”
The troll grinned. “Many games. Max enjoys them. Barks when players try to steal a base.”
All three of them laughed. Diana quipped “Well, he is a law and order kind of canine, nowadays.”
Rath nodded. “Truth.”
They arrived at the statue of Roberto Clemente that marked the nearest entrance and reached out to touch it as they passed by. Bryant paused a moment to stare at the memorial. “Sport has always been one of the things that’s broken boundaries down between people.” He met Diana’s eyes with a grin. “Maybe we should have an Oriceran sports league.”
She laughed. “We go from world champions to two worlds’ champions?”
He nodded. “It’s not the worst idea.”
“I can see it now. All-Kilomea football and hockey teams.”
“Okay, clearly there would be a need to have some rules put in place.”
Diana chuckled. “Keep dreaming, BC.” She handed their tickets to a uniformed worker, and with three soft beeps from the laser scanner, they were admitted to the park. The team’s mascot was nearby, and Rath offered a fist to the giant parrot. The bird tapped it with his own and waved, then stepped behind Bryant and stuck his huge floppy beak over the man’s head and covered it completely. Diana and Rath giggled at the sight, and she barely had time to get a picture of it before he shrugged the costumed character away with a laugh.
He turned immediately to Diana. “That stays between us.”
“No chance. I already sent it to the team. And Taggart.” I should start an ARES newsletter. That can be the cover of the first issue. She laughed inwardly at the idea.
“You suck.”
“So some have said.”
They ascended the staircase to the main level, and once at the top, moved out of the flow of traffic to gaze down the long stretch before them. The left side featured small buildings holding food, drink, and merchandise stands, and the right held carts selling more of the same interspersed between stairs down toward the field. Diana clapped decisively. “I need a hot dog—no, two hot dogs, and a pretzel.”
Rath piped up “Pizza. Pizza, pizza. Pizza, pizza, pizza.”
With a laugh, Bryant added, “Kielbasa and sauerkraut is something this town is known for. It would be an absolute crime not to have it at the ballpark.” They wandered on in search of the right stands, and she took note of the many smiles thrown at Rath, interspersed with one or two scowls. All in all, Pittsburgh had proven to be a welcoming town for the troll. Most residents who encountered him took the small alien in stride. Heh. If they met his eight-foot form, they might have a different reaction.
They found the pizza, then Bryant’s sausage and kraut, and finally, her pretzel and dogs, along with local beers for the humans and a tropical fruit smoothie for the shortest member of the group. They made their way toward their seats, a couple of rows back from first base. Bryant sat closest to home plate, Diana second, and Rath third in an unspoken agreement to put the humans in the path of any errant baseball before it could reach the troll. The truth is, he’d probably have a better chance of avoiding injury from a foul ball that we would.
She thought, not for the first time, about the fact that her relationship with Rath existed somewhere between parent and friend. She had to remain constantly vigilant to avoid being overprotective, which she knew the troll wouldn’t welcome and which was unnecessary, anyway. But the right amount of protectiveness, that’s a different story. Bryant pointed toward the outfield. “I love the view of the city from here. The architects were definitely on the ball.” She followed his gesture and agreed with a nod and a groan for the baseball pun.