by TR Cameron
“These are tricky bastards, whoever they are. There’s no way I would have located the traps normally. The magical wards are extremely low power because they’re only triggers.”
He pointed to a nearby bush, which appeared at first glance to be an innocuous part of a formerly vibrant landscaping effort. Only by staring at it for several seconds with the knowledge that something had to be there had he been able to discern it. A claymore mine faced the street, ready to unleash its payload of ball bearings to shred anyone who tripped the ward. “They’re not kidding around.”
“Holy hell.” Her breath hitched. “That’s serious overkill.”
Tanyith nodded. “I would say it’s more likely to be a Zatora location, given the access to military gear and if you hadn’t mentioned the sightings of magicals. Even though they clearly have some magic support, I can’t imagine they have an abundance of it.”
“But they could import more, right?”
For a moment, he considered the question in silence, then shook his head. “I don’t think they’d be able to find many individuals willing to fight other magicals on their behalf, no matter how much they were paid. There are less conflicted paths to wealth for people with magic.”
She snorted softly. “You mean like endless private investigative work for no pay?”
“Shut it. I need to concentrate here.” He stretched his magic forward in search of the weakest areas in the ward. It came as no surprise to find those he was familiar with and so expected, but he also took time to hunt for other defensive magics. What he discovered made him even more concerned. “It’s completely wrapped by a mixture of physical and magical defenses. It was a good call not to try to do this yourself.”
“Are we able to get through it?”
“Yeah. I can definitely stop us from getting killed by the wards, but I’m not positive I can avoid being noticed by the people and killed by them instead. My attention will have to be on the magic. Is it worth it?”
Kendra gestured at the building. “What do you think? What do they need to ward so heavily? It has to be more than people, right?”
Tanyith nodded. “I would say so, especially given the hardware. All right, then. Step where I step and stay directly behind me. If I stop, you stop.” His favorite mode of escape was regrettably off the table as going airborne would mean leaving her behind.
Which means I have to get this right on the first try. Okay, Tay, don’t screw it up.
The path that threaded through the wards showed no signs of being trampled from use and offered no indication that it was any different than the grass and dirt around it.
They thought of everything. Whoever they are. He traveled it one cautious step at a time, although he tried to go fast enough that random chance wouldn’t get them caught. At the same time, he needed to move slowly enough that if another trap awaited them that he hadn’t seen, he might have a chance to sense it before it blew up in his face.
No other threats emerged, fortunately, and they arrived at a side entrance without further incident. He was surprised when the knob turned, then laughed and whispered, “It figures. With all that protection, there’s no bloody need to lock up.” Two cigarette butts on the ground provided an additional explanation as to why it might be unlocked and emphasized the need for them to hurry.
“Are we safe from magic problems?” Kendra asked. He cracked the door open and pushed his power forward but identified no wards beyond.
“I don’t see anything obvious.”
She slipped past him. “Okay, now you follow me.” She mimed a look of surprise. “I think I heard a shout in there like someone was hurt. Didn’t you?” She opened the door only far enough to slide through and he followed but paused long enough to ensure that its return to closure was silent.
The inside resembled every storage warehouse he’d ever been in, with a lofty ceiling above and vast floor space to stack pallets and crates and whatever else required a temporary home. The items there were in large wooden boxes, cheaply made and unmarked. Each crate measured about three feet high by four long and was neither particularly wide nor particularly shallow. They were stacked two-high in places and three-high in others, with a smattering of single ones here and there. They crawled behind one of these and peered over it toward the center.
Red spray paint demarcated a circular area on the floor, a wavering line about six feet in diameter. Another six feet in each direction was bare, with boxes arranged more or less at random beyond that distance.
“It’s not exactly a logistical success,” he whispered,
Kenda nodded and pointed at the same moment that he heard laughter. Across the warehouse, two men approached from a rough corridor between towers of crates. Their long heavy locks indicated that they were almost certainly Atlantean, but he didn’t recognize them from his time with the gang. Their words were still too soft to make out and remained that way until they reached the red circle.
One stood and faced the middle while the other watched him with a mocking expression and said, “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“Bite me, loser. This isn’t anything at all. It’s easy.”
“Yeah, that’s why you almost collapsed last time.”
The other man growled belligerently. “Shut up. That was the rum you convinced me to drink.” Laughter was the only reply, and he turned to the center again, which gave them a perfect look at his face as he raised his hands and spoke arcane words. A small hole appeared about five feet off the floor, directly in the middle of the ring, and began to extend from there. By the time it completed the expansion, it reached the cement below and ten feet toward the ceiling.
“It’s a portal,” Tanyith whispered. “And that looks like another warehouse on the other side.” Figures stepped through the rift in space and dragged carts with more crates on them, all identical to those already present. He shook his head. “Okay, my guess is that they’re bringing stuff from New Atlantis. We always knew the local gang had a hookup. I suppose this is it.”
Kendra frowned. “Then why the secrecy? And why didn’t we know about it?”
He shrugged. “Maybe there are competing elements within the gang? That wouldn’t be unheard of. And it would work to our advantage.”
“I suppose there could be. I think the wards are enough to request surveillance, which should give us access to whatever information we need for a warrant.”
She drifted past him toward the door, but when he moved to follow, another arrival from the portal caught his attention. He recognized the woman he’d seen at the Privateer Pub in New Atlantis. Her freckles and thin blonde hair were impossible to miss.
If she’s here, this is a Malniet warehouse. Which means they’re planning something for the city again and I need to get the hell out of here before they see me.
Tanyith hurried past Kendra and led the way through the wards without detection. When they were clear, they walked the couple of blocks to her car in silence. He climbed in the passenger side of the Charger, while she took the driver’s seat and eased the vehicle onto the road.
After several minutes without conversation, she asked, “Is everything okay? Are you good?”
He shook his head. “No. Those weren’t the Zatoras or the local Atlanteans. I recognized one of them at the end. They’re from New Atlantis and are the ones who brought the Kraken and who later attacked the city.”
She growled and pressed on the accelerator to pass a Honda driven somewhat erratically. “Exactly what we need—another gang in town. The feds will love this.”
“No. You can’t tell them. They’re the ones who have me on the hook, and I’m sure they know about you too. You need to keep this quiet until I find a way to free myself from them or they won’t stop until they’ve killed us both—plus Sienna and maybe Cali.”
“Damn it.” Her words were low but clearly heartfelt. “Are there no other options? How about we arrest them all?”
He snorted. “What’s the extradition law like with New
Atlantis? Are your local jails warded against portals? And you have anti-magic emitters, do you?”
Kendra sighed and repeated more softly, “Damn it. No, of course not.” With a shake of her head, she added, “You know this is exactly what I was talking about. Now I’m in the same damned situation.”
“You could walk away.”
“Yeah, right. No, they’re a threat and if we can’t deal with them publicly, we need to do what we can to stop them privately. And if you say a single word to me about lines or whatever, you don’t get to come home with me.”
Tanyith spent the rest of the drive in silence while his mind considered the situation from every angle in search of the weakness he was sure was there. By the time the engine switched off, he had come no closer to it than when he’d started but remained certain it was there for the finding.
Chapter Eight
Cali stood on a bench so she would be eye to eye with the hulking Kilomea who had insulted her. He was new to the bar and deep in his cups, and she knew the routine well. It was a test and she was up to it. She stared into the dark-black orbs in his oversized face and growled a challenge.
“Do you care to say that again, Sasquatch?”
He chuckled and his heavy voice bounced off the walls closest to him at the rear of the tavern’s common room while the surrounding conversations halted. He’d chosen the back corner for his drinking and unlike most of his kind she’d seen in the Drunken Dragons, he had come alone. They most often arrived in groups, which provided an element of control to limit the most aggressive ones. This Kilomea, though, wasn’t limiting anything.
“I said, get me another drink, tiny wench, and do it right this second.”
The test was to see if she was someone to be respected or not. While she tended toward the “Respect until proven otherwise” end of the spectrum when meeting people, his species were far more on the “No respect until proven otherwise” end of the continuum. In any case, it was a moment of liveliness in a thus-far boring Thursday night. She’d come back from New Atlantis the day before in time for her shift and that had been equally unexciting.
Either the bar’s slow or I’m less patient. I’m sure it’s the bar. I’m perfect. She snorted at herself and said, “You’re new here so I’ll let that one slide. But if you don’t rephrase it, you’ll have the embarrassing experience of being thrown out of here on your face.”
He laughed deeply and looked past her. “By the dwarf behind the bar? I hear he doesn’t bring that ax down for anything. And he’s even smaller than you.”
Cali shook her head. Ticking me off is one thing but getting Zeb mad is a bad, bad idea. She’d never seen her boss truly angry but imagined it would be a rough experience for whoever inspired it.
“Nah. I don’t need help to take the trash out. The bigger it is, the farther it flies when I throw it.” She kept her gaze locked on his and a slow smile emerged on his face.
“All right then. Another drink, please. But you’re still tiny.”
She laughed. “Only compared to some, big guy.” She jumped down and headed to the bar, and the normal sounds of discussion and merriment resumed. When she reached the counter, she shook her head at Zeb. “Some people, am I right?”
He grinned. “Well handled, as always. Hopefully, he’ll find friends before he gets so drunk you do have to throw him out of here.” It wasn’t really a worry. The dwarf was very good at monitoring his patrons and would slow or stop their intake as required to avoid problems. Sometimes, they had to give out a free meal of the day’s stew and bread, but watching out for his customers—even when they didn’t want to be watched out for—was a sacred part of the job for him. She admired both his dedication and his single-mindedness about it.
I wish I could be single-minded about anything, these days. Her brain was a constant flutter of issues and worries. It was one of the reasons she wouldn’t let her shifts at the tavern slide any more than necessary. She needed relief from her thoughts and was able to easily lose herself in the work when it was busy.
“I’m mostly sure I can juice my muscles enough to do it but I might wind up injured. He’s kind of big.”
Zeb nodded. “And it’s better to be careful with that. I’ve seen people push beyond their limits with magic. It’s not pretty.”
“Well, then, I certainly can’t do that because I’m so very pretty.” She laughed. “Who would want to mess up this?” She gestured at herself and the oh-so-fashionable black jeans and concert t-shirt she wore and shook her head.
I never wanted to be a model, anyway. I like food.
Any answer was forestalled by a series of shouts from behind her. Cali rolled her eyes and went to defuse whatever argument had broken out.
Near the end of her shift, when only a few stragglers remained and with less than ten minutes before it was time to lock the entrance, the calm familiarity of the evening was shattered. The front door banged violently to slam against the wall, which made everyone look in that direction. A man in a hoodie and jeans walked in, followed by an attractive woman in a suit.
Cali set her tray down and loosened her hold on her magic to make sure it was ready for instant recall. Another member of the Atlantean gang entered and closed the door quietly.
Her boss immediately took action. “Everyone out. Go now.” The authority in his voice galvanized the patrons into compliance and a few moments later, the three Atlanteans were the only ones present besides her, Zeb, and Fyre. The Draksa was behind the bar, and while she couldn’t see him, the sense of calm alertness that flowed over their mental connection reassured her that he was as ready as she was to deal with anything that might happen.
The proprietor turned to Danna Cudon and the men with her and offered a mild rebuke. “Try not to slam the door, please. It alarms the customers.”
She nodded with a smile that suggested that had been her intent. “Noted, dwarf.”
He returned the gesture. “Thank you, Atlantean. Manners never hurt. We are living in a society here, last I checked.”
The woman laughed. Cali always wondered how the laugh could sound so friendly when Cudon herself was so…not. “Ah, but there are civilized societies and ones that are less so, aren’t there? In any case, I didn’t come here to trade clever banter with you.” She swiveled to face the young woman. “No, my purpose here is with this one. Greetings, Matriarch.”
Her smile in response was thin and not at all friendly. “Lovely to see you as always, Ms. Cudon. Dare I hope that you’ve decided to surrender—or even better, to offer to settle this one on one between us?”
Her visitor raised an eyebrow in amusement. “You have no idea how much I would relish that opportunity, Caliste. But no, such things are not to be. The next battle will be five on five, tomorrow night at nine at this location.” She gestured abruptly and one of the men who’d accompanied her placed an envelope on the bar.
“Another factory? Because that worked out really well for you, I thought.”
The smug look didn’t leave the Atlantean’s face but it stood out more as the rest of her expression became harder. “No, not another factory. I think you’ll enjoy it, though.” She turned and moved to the door. One of her people preceded her and the other followed, walking backward to keep her enemies in sight.
Once they were gone, Zeb shook his head with a sigh.
“Idiots. They had no reason to bring this inside my tavern. Now, I’m even more irritated with them.”
She looked at the dwarf—who appeared no different than he had at any other moment in the evening—and laughed. “Yeah, you sure seem upset.”
“I’ll join you for this one.”
“Come again?” Her humor fled in an instant.
“You heard me. I’m in. It’s time to teach these bozos they can’t mess with us in our place.”
Cali considered it and liked it more with each passing moment. “Okay, I love that idea. I think we’ll shove it in their face a little more and go four-on-five. I’m sure that got
under their skin last time.” She grinned. “Will you bring Valerie?”
Zeb nodded. “I might not use her, but she’ll definitely come along.”
“They won’t expect it, that’s for sure. Good. Next time, I might have to take Sensei Ikehara up on his offer—which means I need to find something that will help him defend against magic, at least. Ideally, magic weapons, although I’m not sure there’s any Oriceran in his background so that probably wouldn’t work out.”
Her boss shrugged. “I’ve never known a non-magical who was able to use magic weapons. But you might ask Nylotte. If there’s anyone who knows more about that than I do, it’s her.”
She nodded. “I’ll add that to the list I need to bug her about.”
The dagger, learning lightning, the sword, and now, something magical to preserve Ikehara. She’ll get tired of dealing with me, at this rate.
“So, what’s the plan?” he asked after a moment.
“Do you think we need one?”
He laughed. “No, I don’t, at that. So, we simply arrive on time and be ready to rumble?”
“Let’s meet at the bunker an hour before and go together from there. I’ll let Tanyith know.”
Zeb turned to look at the Draksa behind the bar. “Is that good for you, Fyre?” A snort of affirmation followed, which drew a laugh from them both. “All right then. Tomorrow will be a real learning experience for these jerks.”
Chapter Nine
Cali had practiced with sword and dagger against every weapon present in the dojo and mostly held her own. She was fairly sure, though, that Ikehara had gone easy on her. She slashed from the outside in with the bamboo sword, aimed at the side of his head, and shuffled forward to stab with the practice knife in her off-hand.
