“So that’s the million dollar question,” said Caina. “What are we going to do next?”
“Aren’t you British?” I said. “Wouldn’t it be the million pound question?” I grimaced and slapped the handset back onto its cradle.
“We have to escape and get a warning to Homeland Security and Lord Mythrender,” said Caina.
“Yeah,” I said, and I forced back the sarcastic comments that came to mind. My mouth runs away with me when I’m scared, and I was very frightened. Not so much for myself, but for Riordan. “One of us does, anyway. I don’t want to leave until I’ve found Riordan.” I took a deep breath. “I assume you tried contacting the High Queen already?”
“First thing that I did,” said Caina. “No response. I’m afraid that by the time she contacts us again, this will have been decided one way or another. It’s up to us.”
“Lucky us,” I said. Well, the High Queen had told me to keep an eye out for trouble. She just hadn’t mentioned how much trouble. “Goddamn Navarre. I thought he was dead.”
“Wait,” said Caina. “This Gabriel Navarre. You know him?”
“I’ve never met him,” I said, “but I know about him, and I’ve seen him from a distance a few times. Um. Do you know who the Rebel Gatekeepers were?”
Caina nodded. “Rebel leaders who had been possessed by the Dark Ones. They could cast the rift way spell, which let the Rebels retreat to Venomhold and out of the High Queen’s reach.”
“Navarre was one of them,” I said. “He was a Spanish Marxist who wound up joining Nicholas Connor’s organization, and he became one of the Gatekeepers. I spent the year before the battle of New York harassing and disrupting the Rebels’ supply operations, and I followed Navarre a few times. Never got close enough to kill him.”
“I thought all the Gatekeepers died when the Sky Hammer burned Venomhold,” said Caina.
“I think most of the Gatekeepers died when the Sky Hammer burned Venomhold,” I said. Or when I had burned them, to be accurate. But it had been a choice between the Rebels and the fifteen million people living in New York, and it wasn’t something I regretted. “But not all the Rebels were in Venomhold when the bomb went off. It took Homeland Security and the Elven nobles nearly a week to clear out all the Rebels from New York. Some of the smart ones went to ground, hid themselves. I mean, there are always rumors of monsters hiding in the New York sewers, right? Why not some clever Rebels?”
“If Navarre is so clever,” said Caina, “why is he holding hostages? He knows how the High Queen and the Elven nobles will respond. They will negotiate at first, but if Navarre doesn’t budge, they will storm the mansion and kill the Rebels. A lot of hostages will get killed if that happens.”
“Maybe Navarre wants to go out in a blaze of glory,” I said.
“If he wants to do that, there are easier ways to go about it,” said Caina. “Ways that take less planning and careful preparation. Those bombs in the walls had to have been planted well in advance. And if he wants to cause mayhem, he can do it without putting himself at personal risk. Car bombs and the like. Why come here and take hostages?”
“Hell if I know,” I said. “Maybe Navarre wants to rob the place.”
Caina gave me a strange look. “What do you mean?”
“He’s got all those idiots in the truck dock,” I said. “Sooner or later Homeland Security or Lord Mythrender are going to figure out what’s going on, and they’ll attack. So why does he have men wasting time with pallet jacks in the truck dock?”
“That’s a really good question,” said Caina. “Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer. If he just wanted to rob the Baron’s mansion, this is an expensive and inefficient way to go about it.” She took a deep breath. “I think we need to get out of the mansion and sound the alarm. And we’ll need to talk to whoever is in command of the response. The more information we can give them, the more hostages will survive.”
“Okay,” I said. “You can do that. I’ll use the Cloak spell and get you outside. But I’m not leaving until I figure out what happened to Riordan.” I expected her to protest, but she only nodded. “And I can have a look around without the Rebels noticing me, so long as I stay away from that Seal of Unmasking. For that matter, I want to figure out how they’re generating such a huge Seal of Unmasking. It would take several wizards to hold a Seal of that size in place.” I shrugged. “And if I can figure out how to break the Seal, I can Cloak and start shooting Rebels one by one.”
“You don’t have a gun.”
I shrugged. “I’ll steal one. I spent a lot of time stealing weapons from the Rebels in the year before the Sky Hammer. It’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget.”
“I will take your word for it,” said Caina. “I should come with you.”
I frowned. “You’re sure? Someone ought to warn the authorities.”
“Yes,” said Caina. “However, beyond all doubt, the authorities will be alerted sooner rather than later. The sound of the explosions, if nothing else. And Mr. Navarre took hostages, which implies that he intends to present demands.”
I snorted. “He won’t have good luck with that.”
“I quite agree,” said Caina. “But you’re right. The more information we can gather about our enemy, the better.” She tapped her temple. “And I’m a valikarion. I might be able to see whatever is generating Navarre’s Seal of Unmasking. It must be a magical relic or artifact of some kind. It would take a team of human wizards to generate a seal that large and sustain it.”
“That’s…a good point,” I said. I hadn’t thought of that. As a valikarion, Caina could see fields of magical energy as easily as normal human eyes saw light. She could probably pick out the source of Navarre’s Seal in about five seconds.
“And did you see his men gun down that family to make a point?” said Caina, the chill in her voice matching her icy blue eyes.
“Yeah.”
“I want to bring them to account for that,” said Caina.
So did I.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s go spy on some Rebels.”
“Should we go back to the dining hall?” said Caina.
“No,” I said. “I can Cloak and get us there, but we’ll be visible as soon as we cross the boundary of the Seal of Unmasking. Let’s head up to that balcony. It looks like it was closed for the party, and we might be able to get a good view of the dining hall from there.”
“And if there are Rebels up there?” said Caina.
I shrugged again. “Then we just kill them. We need to get you a better gun anyway.” I squinted at the stubby little pistol she held. “How the hell did that thing not explode in your hand when you fired it? It looks like something a 3D printer crapped out.”
“Some of the vital parts are carbon fiber,” said Caina. “And it doesn’t usually show up on weapon scanners. But, yes, an AK-47 or a Royal Arms semiautomatic would be an improvement.”
“Then let’s go spy on the Rebels and find one,” I said.
We crossed to a doorway on the far side of the open office. There was a floor plan of the mansion’s administrative wing there, along with a list of names and offices. The Baron did indeed have a lot of people working for him, which had to be a miserable experience for the employees. On the third floor, I spotted a room called “AV Prep/Control” which opened onto the balcony. Likely the Baron used the balcony for bands or for projection equipment, though he hadn’t bothered with such frippery for his birthday party.
“There?” said Caina, pointing at the room.
I nodded. “There.”
“I’ll go first,” said Caina, taking the little pistol’s grip in both hands. “If we run into any Rebels, they’ll focus on me, and you can take them down with spells.”
“Right,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Caina opened the door, revealing a utility stairwell with concrete steps and steel railings. She led the way with smooth grace, covering the angles well, and going around the turns in the stairs with her gun
leading. I followed as quietly as I could, though my heels still made too much damn noise against the stairs.
We reached the third floor without incident. The steel door on the landing was shut.
“Could you move more quietly?” said Caina without rancor.
“Trying,” I said. “Hard in these heels.”
“Undoubtedly,” said Caina. “Not a good choice for this kind of work. To be sure, they flatter your legs and backside, but they’re noisy.”
“I wasn’t expecting to chase Rebels through the Baron’s mansion,” I said. “And why were you noticing my legs and backside?”
“That’s my curse,” said Caina. “I notice everything.” I remembered how she had deduced so much about me from a single look. “Ready?”
I nodded, grasped the door handle, and pulled it open, stepping out of the way as I did. Caina leveled her pistol at the corridor beyond.
“Clear,” she said, and I nodded and followed her.
The corridor had blue carpet, white walls, and was lined with doors. It looked like a hallway from a hundred other office buildings I had visited in my life. Caina moved forward in silence, and I followed her. It was a lot easier to move in silence on carpet than on concrete.
Which explained why the Rebel soldier didn’t notice us.
He stepped out from a cross-corridor, a middle-aged man in fatigues and mismatched body armor, an AK-47 in his hands. The Rebel started to turn, and his eyes just had time to go wide. I had begun to pull power together to strike, but Caina moved as fast as a bolt of lightning. Her hands snapped up, and her pistol flashed and spat a bullet. The Rebel’s head jerked to the side in a spray of blood, and the man fell in a boneless heap to the ground.
Caina had killed him in the space of about two seconds. And with that crappy little gun.
The woman was an amazing shot.
Caina stepped forward, gun still raised, and I held my magic ready to strike. But there was no one else on this floor, and I didn’t see anyone approaching from the cross corridor. Probably Navarre had sent the unfortunate Rebel to patrol the administrative wing and make sure no one was hiding here.
“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before they notice he’s gone,” I said. “Probably less.”
“Probably,” said Caina. She tucked her little pistol into a holster in the small of her back, hidden by the edge of her coat. Then she stooped and pulled off the dead man’s gun belt. Caina wrapped it around her waist, checked the pistol in the holster, and then took his AK-47 and two spare magazines for the weapon. “You want the pistol?”
“No,” I said. “I’ve got my spells. You’re a better shot anyway.”
Caina nodded, checked over the AK-47 and set the selector to single fire. Given that many of the Rebels were terrible shots, they tended to use their rifles on full automatic.
“This way,” said Caina.
We walked the rest of the way down the corridor and came to a door marked AV/PREP BAND. Caina eased it open in silence and then dropped to a crouch. I grimaced, looked at my feet, slipped out of my shoes, and followed suit. It didn’t look like the balcony was carpeted, and there was no way I could move quietly while crouching in stiletto heels.
The balcony had three shallow tiers descending towards the railing, probably so musicians could sit and play. Right now, the balcony was used for storage, with stacks of collapsible tables and folding chairs. There was a big booth holding what looked like sound mixing and projection equipment, and the railing was an ornate metal grillwork. We crept up to the railing and peered into the main floor.
A tense scene came to my eyes. Thankfully, it didn’t look as if Navarre and his men had gone on any rampages. All the hostages were still alive, save for the four people that Navarre had killed earlier and those who had died in the bomb blasts. Their example must have inspired the others to stay out of trouble. Dozens of Rebel gunmen circulated through the crowds of hostages, who sat or knelt on the floor with their hands behind their heads. I scanned the room, my heartbeat thumping in my ears as I looked for Riordan. I couldn’t spot him anywhere. Maybe he had gotten away and was looking for me even now. Why did everyone have to wear black suits and black dresses to these things? It made picking someone out of the crowd difficult.
I did spot Navarre. He was pacing back and forth in the center of the room, rifle in one hand, a blocky black phone handset in the other. I recognized the model of the device. The cell phone jammer he was using ran on a rotating frequency and channel, disrupting any cell signals in its area of effect. But his phone handset would be synchronized to the jammer, allowing him to make calls out.
I could hear Navarre. He was shouting into the phone.
“You will dispatch an emissary to begin negotiations at once!” he snarled. “Well over two thousand hostages are in my power! Baron Kaldmask himself is in my power!” He gestured, and I saw Kaldmask and a half-dozen of his knights on their knees, hands on the backs of their heads. Four Rebels kept pistols leveled at them, ready to shoot at the first sign of any magic. “You have thirty minutes to dispatch a suitable emissary to begin negotiations! Or else I shall execute one of Baron Kaldmask’s knights every five minutes until you are ready to take this situation seriously.”
He ended the call, hooked his phone to his belt, and beckoned. Two of his lieutenants hurried over, and they began speaking in low voices.
“Did you find your husband?” whispered Caina.
I shook my head. “Can you see what’s creating that Seal of Unmasking?” The Seal was still in place, its lines glowing across the hardwood floor.
Caina nodded. “There’s something on the table behind Navarre. The currents of power are coming from that direction. I think…I think it’s a Seal Stone.”
“Seal Stone?” I said. I hadn’t heard of that before.
“Magical artifact,” whispered Caina. “A powerful and skilled wizard can make one. They take a stone and inscribe it with the appropriate Seal, and then charge it with as much power as the stone will hold. Once it’s activated, it will last for a few hours.”
“Any idea how many hours?” I said.
“No,” said Caina. “It depends on the strength of the wizard who created the Stone. I don’t suppose you can break it from here.”
“No,” I said, irritated. It wouldn’t be hard to blow up the table or set it on fire, but that probably wouldn’t destroy the Seal Stone, and Caina and I would both die when Navarre’s men started shooting at the balcony. I possessed a Nihlus Stone, a fist-sized sphere of stone that could break any spell, but it was so valuable that I didn’t carry it around with me. It was locked in a hidden safe in Riordan’s condo, where it was both secure and currently useless.
I wondered if poor Rosalyn Madero had made both my Nihlus Stone and Navarre’s Seal Stone. I really hoped not. Rosalyn had been nuts, but she had also been a genius with magical artifacts, and if she had made that Seal Stone, it would probably run for days before it ran out of power.
“I don’t think we can do anything more here,” said Caina.
“I could kill Navarre,” I said. “He wouldn’t be expecting it, wouldn’t have time to get a magical defense in place.” In a straight fight, I was sure I could take Navarre. None of Nicholas’s other Gatekeepers had been able to match me. But Navarre had dozens of well-armed allies in place.
Caina hesitated and then shook her head. “We shouldn’t risk it. They’ll see the light from your spell and spray the balcony with bullets. And a few of them have rocket launchers.”
“Goddamn it,” I muttered. I was really tired of people shooting rocket-propelled grenades at me. “You’re right. Let’s get to the truck dock and get out of here. We’ll find whoever Navarre’s negotiating with and tell him what’s going on.”
Though we didn’t know what was going on, not really. I didn’t know what Navarre wanted, what he hoped to obtain from his plan, but he wasn’t going to get it. His stupid plan would only gain him a mountain of corpses, and his dead body would be on
the top. Lord Mythrender and the other local Elven nobles weren’t going to negotiate with a band of leftover Rebels. They were going to kill them all, and the hostages would be stuck in the crossfire. Some of them would survive.
Most of them wouldn’t.
It made me furious.
“Before we go, do you see Riordan?” said Caina.
I shook my head. I had been looking the entire time we had been whispering to each other, but I hadn’t seen Riordan or Markus Leyen. I don’t know if they had gotten out, or if they were kneeling as captives somewhere I couldn’t see them…or if they had been standing too close to one of the bombs and lay dead.
Oh, damn it. Damn it all. It wasn’t fair. We had been married for barely two months, and I had waited a hundred and fifty-eight years to find him again…
“Come on,” said Caina.
I nodded and followed Caina back up the tiers of the balcony. We slipped into the carpeted hallway, and I donned my shoes once more. It was October, and I really wasn’t keen on running around outside without shoes. The dead Rebel lay where we had left him, his blood forming a dark pool on the carpet around his head.
“All right,” said Caina. “Back down to the truck dock?”
“Yep,” I said. “I’ll Cloak, and we’ll walk right out.” I took a ragged breath, trying to keep my emotions under control. “Then we’ll…”
Even as the words left my mouth, four Rebels emerged from the cross-corridor and pointed their rifles at us.
***
Chapter 5: Negotiations
Caina’s mind kicked into overdrive, considering her options.
Four Rebels, all of them armed with AK-47s. A narrow corridor, with no room to dodge. Nadia was lifting her hand, gathering magical power for a spell, and the vision of the valikarion saw the arcane energy surging around her. But the Rebels had the drop on them, and even Nadia would not be able to cast a spell before the Rebels opened fire.
Cloak & Ghost: Rebel Cell Page 6
