Reaping Wind

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Not exactly,” Monty answered. “But I know who does.”

  “Rocky?”

  “Yes, and don’t call him that.”

  “Why was Tessa worried about Dex?” I asked. “She came across as all menacey until you brought up the meeting with Rocky.”

  “She’s still menacey—a menace, and dangerous, not to mention incredibly powerful.”

  “But?”

  “My uncle wasn’t always as calm as he is now,” Monty said. “Especially in fringe populations like the Moving Market, my uncle is well-known.”

  “He’s famous with the criminal element? Dex, really?”

  “Closer to infamous and feared. There are several reasons he needed to leave the Golden Circle,” Monty said. “His associations with the Ten and other shadow figures made it difficult to put him in a position of authority.”

  “So, he decided to cut loose?”

  “More like he decided to spare the family further ignominy. He made a clean break when he started seeing the Morrigan.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “Nothing like dating the Chooser of the Slain to ding your respectability image and scare everyone shitless.”

  “By that point, the elders feared him and he had had enough. Stepping away was the best thing he could have done.”

  “He must hate being there now, then.”

  “Agreed,” Monty said with a nod. “I’m sure he is busy trying to find a replacement.”

  “That would explain Tessa’s reaction. She may be strong, but Dex is stronger and his girlfriend is a super scary goddess.”

  “I’d say that’s an apt summation. In any case, she should comply with my request about the meeting, but she will try to protect herself in some way.”

  “Protect herself?”

  “If something happens to us, she will set it up so that it appears to be our fault.”

  “Ah, plausible deniability,” I said. “That way she can wash her hands of us.”

  “Exactly. I wouldn’t put it past her to notify Fumiko and the Kuro Hyogikai about our involvement in the incident this morning.”

  “That would put Peaches in danger,” I said. “Fumiko was already tetchy about him. If she thinks he can be let loose and destroy her city—”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t put it past Tessa to conveniently share that information if it means she can extricate herself from the situation.”

  “Then if something happens she can point elsewhere when Dex or anyone comes asking,” I said. “She is cunning.”

  “You don’t get to be the Director of the Moving Market by accident. I have a feeling she will try to sabotage our meeting with Roque as well—be wary.”

  “Why would she want to do that?”

  “If Roque kills us, she can say she warned us and is saddened by our deaths, but we didn’t listen,” Monty said. “Remember, she only cares about two things.”

  “Herself and the Market.”

  “Everything and everyone else is expendable in her mind,” Monty said, collapsing the sphere. “We need to go.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Travel between the rings was managed through transportation passages.

  The system was similar to the subway, but shorter, with automated open-air rail cars that could go from ring to ring. Each station between rings one through five required a stop at a checkpoint. From ring five to six, the tunnel was sealed, with a large blast door that only opened with authorization and a travel pass.

  Getting to ring seven was going to be a little different. Monty opened the door to Accursed Verse and stepped outside. The street in front of the bookstore was deserted.

  “That’s odd,” Monty said, mostly to himself. “This area of the Market is usually one of the busiest. Where is everyone?”

  “I think I found out who’s scaring away all of the business.” I pointed to the corner across the street. “You think he’s here for us?”

  Standing there in all his mysterious glory was the Doorman: white mask, silver staff in hand, large sword resting on his back, and enormous guns on his thighs. The red orbs were missing; I figured he was trying to be subtle and blend in.

  “It would seem Tessa is sending us an escort to the seventh ring,” Monty said as the Doorman approached. “This may complicate things.”

  “Because things were so simple until now. If you wanted to mess up someone’s meeting with a scary mage, how would you do it?”

  “I’d send an overpowered gatekeeper under the guise of protection and escort, then have him attack the mage, completely destroying any chance of a peaceful meeting.”

  “Then, you could even have the ‘protection’ attack all parties involved in an effort to keep the delicate peace.”

  “If this happens on the seventh ring, there will be no witnesses.”

  “Read my mind,” I said. “We operate on the premise that everyone is an enemy, then.”

  “Only way to stay alive in the Market,” Monty said, “is to assume that everyone you meet would prefer you dead.”

  “Have I mentioned how much I dislike this place?”

  “Yes,” Monty said. “Let’s get what we need and exit the Market. I’m pretty certain we have worn out our welcome.”

  “That’s what you get when you piss off the director of the place. Are you sure you know what diplomacy means? I get the feeling you keep using that word, despite not knowing what it means.”

  The Doorman approached us. He carried a black, medium-sized, Zero Haliburton carbon-fiber travel case. He placed it on the ground in front of us when he got close.

  “The Director has provided a change of clothes, Daystrider armor to be worn beneath, and ammunition for your weapon. Since haste is required, I have been instructed to take you to the nearest lodgings to facilitate this change.”

  “Which are located where?” Monty asked.

  The Doorman pointed down the street and started walking. I picked up the case as we followed him.

  “That’s convenient,” I said under my breath. “It’s not like they’re keeping tabs on us or anything.”

  “Hostile territory, remember.”

  “Do you think we can lose him? We’re out in the street, not a hallway. Maybe being outside weakens them?”

  “Let’s get out of these ruined clothes, then we can discuss how to not anger a Janus.”

  “Ruined?” I said, looking down at my torn and bloody clothes. “I don’t know. I prefer ‘not so gently’ used.”

  Monty didn’t answer as we entered a large building behind the Doorman. The floor was done in alternating brown and white marble tile, resembling a large chessboard. At the far end, behind an immense, rune-covered brass desk with wooden accents, sat a woman. The walls were a rich mahogany that held brass sconces every few feet. On the wall behind the woman, I saw more brass motifs of runic symbols I couldn’t make out.

  The Doorman walked up to the desk, extended a hand, and waited. She silently handed him a small blue crystal with a nod. He returned the nod and passed the crystal to Monty.

  “You may use the room at the end of the corridor. Please utilize your time wisely.”

  Monty placed the crystal in a special receptacle on the door. The crystal vanished from sight and the door opened with a click. A short hallway led to a large living room. Off to the side, another short corridor must have led to more rooms. A large table sat next to the entrance, and I placed the travel case there.

  “This is pretty upscale,” I said, taking in the room. “If we ever get time, we could vacation in the Market. I’m pretty sure Roxanne would love this place.”

  Monty looked out of the window into a brick wall across a dark alley.

  “The view could use some work,” Monty said, closing the vertical blinds. “We aren’t here to sight-see. Let’s check what Tessa sent us.”

  I looked in the bag. The lightweight Daystrider armor was folded in compact pouches small enough to fit a large pocket. The ammo was in sealed boxes. Entropy rounds were banned pretty much everywh
ere, and I had started using negation rounds, which weren’t much nicer, but saved me the aggravation of dealing with the Dark Council and the NYTF. I grabbed the boxes of ammo—I wasn’t feeling nice today.

  “She didn’t manage to pack a tank in there, did she?” I asked, looking in the bag again as I grabbed a Daystrider pouch, and what I assumed to be my change of clothing. “Something small, like an M1 Abrams?”

  “I find it unlikely,” Monty said, narrowing his eyes at the contents of the case. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Let’s get dressed and figure out what to do with our escort.”

  Monty grabbed the Zegna and headed to one of the back rooms. I did the same. I was out about ten minutes later, and Monty was waiting for me.

  “Did you put on the Daystrider armor?” I asked, pulling at my pants leg. “They seem to be a bit snug around the thighs.”

  “Maybe you need to go on a diet?” Monty asked, reminding me of my constant conversation with Peaches. He must have noticed my expression. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I should have realized that comment—”

  “No apologies needed,” I said. “I’d rather wear the snug armor and not get pierced by another blood arrow.”

  “Indeed,” he said. “Now, how do we prevent our escort from doing something catastrophic?”

  “Send him back to his hallway? Or any hallway?”

  “It was a rhetorical question. If Tessa sent him, then she wants to make sure Roque and I meet.”

  “Considering how this Roque feels about you, it would be easy to arrange a miscommunication, start a violent confrontation, and let the Doorman put us to rest.”

  “Correct,” Monty said. “The question is how to prevent that from happening.”

  “I know how.”

  I explained my plan.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  We headed back to the Doorman.

  “You cannot fight him, you know,” Monty said in a low voice as we walked back. “In case you were wondering about whether that was a viable option.”

  “His energy signature is off the charts,” I said in the same low voice. “I may be daring, dashing, and debonair, but I’m not self-destructive.”

  “I think you missed another ‘D’ word, there.”

  “Distinguished? Disarming?”

  “Delusional.”

  “You really did miss your calling in comedy. It’s not too late, you know.”

  “This plan of yours,” Monty started, “requires precise timing and the agreement of Roque. You do remember the part where I mentioned he lost his mind?”

  “Self-preservation is a powerful thing, Mage Montague,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Leave this to me.”

  “We are going to die,” Monty said. “Horribly and agonizingly.”

  “I am to escort you to the seventh ring,” the Doorman said. “Please follow me.”

  “Are we going to use the Ringrail?” I asked as we left the building.

  “Yes, the Ringrail is the main method of travel throughout the Moving Market.”

  “Will we need to stop at checkpoints? I noticed we didn’t get travel passes for the trip.”

  “Due to the nature of the request, emergency travel between the rings has been authorized,” the Doorman said. “We will be traveling directly to the seventh ring.”

  “That sounds interesting,” I said, glancing at Monty, who gave me a slight nod. “I didn’t know direct routes existed.”

  “They do.” The Doorman led us down the street and to a what looked like a subway station. “For moments such as these.”

  “What do I call you? The Doorman? Janus? Phantom? Do you even have a name?”

  “Doorman will suffice.”

  “Got it, Big D.”

  “Big D is not my name,” the Doorman answered. “You may call me Doorman or Janus. Not Big D.”

  “Doorman Janus,” I said, thinking. “Even better: DJ. I think that suits you better.”

  “My name is not—” DJ started.

  “Don’t waste your energy, Doorman,” Monty said with a shake of his head. “He’s incorrigible.”

  I’d like to think DJ glared at me from under his mask, but I had no way of telling.

  “After you,” I said, pointing to the stairs with a flourish. “Lead the way.”

  We descended the stairs, and I got ready.

  My plan was simple, but untested. We’d board the train, I’d grab Monty, then I’d press my mark, hopefully throwing us both into stasis without calling Karma. One visit from her today was enough to last me a lifetime. We would remove the Doorman from the train and once time snapped back, we would keep going—without our escort.

  We arrived at the station, and DJ kept walking to the end of the platform. A steel door covered in red warning runes stopped us from proceeding.

  DJ placed his hand on the door, and the runes switched from red to blue. He pulled on the handle, opening the door, and kept walking with us in tow. There was an extension to the station platform, and I saw an open-air rail car waiting for us.

  “Please board the car.” DJ stood to one side as we got on. “This will take us to the seventh ring.”

  “I thought these things were automated?” I said to Monty. “Why do we need an escort?”

  “That is a good question…Doorman?”

  “You requested safe passage in and out of the seventh ring. The Director tasked me to ensure your safety. Neither of you are equipped to deal with the denizens of the outermost ring.”

  “I feel flattered, insulted, and safer all at once,” I said. “Is this the only express train to the seventh ring? Once we get moving, are we going to stop?”

  “No,” DJ said, raising a hand. “For your safety, please remain seated throughout the trip. This rail car will only stop once we reach the seventh ring. It is the only one of its kind.”

  I sat down next to Monty.

  “Do you know where in the seventh ring Rocky lives?” I said under my breath. “Or are we going to wander around, lost, while Tessa dispatches DJ over here to pound us into little bits of dust?”

  “I know where he is. Trust me, Roque will be hard to miss.”

  “And he’s going to give us this dragon blood? I’m asking because I have a feeling Tessa is going to be extra pissed once Phantom is forced to walk to the seventh ring or take a local.”

  “I will convince him,” Monty said, his voice grim. “We do not have the luxury of time.”

  “Speaking of—once we get moving, we execute Plan Launch the Phantom.”

  “Launch the Phantom?”

  “Exactly…get ready.”

  The Doorman stood, walked over to the control panel and activated the rail car. We pulled out of the station and began accelerating.

  TWENTY-SIX

  I stood up and moved closer to the seated Doorman. Monty followed my lead and stood next to me.

  “I must insist you both sit down, for your own safety,” the Doorman said. “We will be arriving shortly.”

  I turned as if to sit down, then signaled to Monty, who grabbed my shoulder while I pressed my mark. For a few seconds nothing happened, and I wondered if we had entered some kind of null zone. I looked at my hand and shook it—because as everyone knows, when something is defective, a good whack, followed by a quick shake, always does the job.

  “What are you doing?” Monty hissed. “Press the mark.”

  “I did,” I said, hissing back. “It’s not working. We must be in some kind of null area, or something.”

  “You broke your mark? How did you manage that?”

  “How do you break a mark? That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Please remain seated,” the Doorman said, standing up and turning to us. “This is not safe. You must sit—”

  I was still examining my mark when it flashed with white light, nearly blinding me in the process.

  “What the hell?” I said, blinking the spots out of my vision. “It’s never taken that—”

  �
��Bloody hell,” Monty said surprised, as he stood next to me. “We’re in a temporal stasis. I’ve never been in the midst of one like—”

  “I’d love to hear the wikimage explanation, but we have no time to admire, seriously.”

  “How long do we have before the flow of time reverts to normal?”

  The Doorman stood frozen near the edge of the rail car. He was pointing to our seats, expecting us to sit down and be safe. We were about to safely remove him from the rail car.

  “We have ten seconds,” I said quickly. “Move Phantom, or we lose this opportunity. If Tessa is a temporary-type mage I’m sure she’s wondering what the hell is going on right now, and who’s doing it. One guess where she’s going to look.”

  “Temporal, and you’re right,” Monty said, moving to one side of the Doorman while I stood on the other. “Push.”

  It was awkward because Monty needed to keep one hand on my shoulder to maintain contact or I figured he’d be ejected out of the stasis. We moved the Doorman off the rail car after a few seconds of grunting.

  Everything felt heavier while I was in stasis. Since he was frozen in time, I placed the Doorman at an acute angle to the ground, past his center—compromising and disrupting his balance. Once the flow was reestablished, he would fall forward, buying us extra time. Plus, he deserved it for working with Tessa.

  A few seconds later, the flow of time returned and several things happened at once: the rail car shot forward, the Doorman looked around doing his best Wile E. Coyote impression, before face planting, and an explosion rocked the express tunnel, collapsing it behind us.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, looking behind us as the tunnel grew lighter with the explosion. “Did we set something off?”

  “That—looks like plausible deniability,” Monty answered, narrowing his eyes. “It would seem Tessa is hedging her bets.”

  “Tessa would collapse the tunnel with us in it?”

  Monty looked at me with a ‘were you not paying attention this whole time’ stare.