Wild Card

by Lisa Shearin

  Therefore it was a given that since Phaelan loved to gamble, he couldn’t help casing every casino whose doors he’d darkened, including Sirens. It wasn’t that he planned to actually rob any of them; it was merely his way of having a little harmless fun and staying in practice.

  When I told him what we would be doing, he was thrilled. When I told him who we’d be doing it to, his enthusiasm waned. Unfortunately, it didn’t go down far enough for his survival instinct to kick in.

  I knew the reason. Me.

  We were only cousins, but we’d been raised as brother and sister, and Phaelan wouldn’t abandon family—well, at least not most of them. Part of me was grateful; the rest was worried sick about getting him killed or worse.

  “Stealing a fortune in jewels from the Khrynsani.” It was the third time Phaelan had said it, at least out loud, as if voicing aloud that he—a man who was terrified of high-powered mages—would be taking jewels from under the collective noses of the blackest of the black magic brotherhoods would somehow make it less suicidal.

  “For the last time, you’re not stealing them; and no one’s keeping the jewels, there are souls inside. You’re watching my back and only watching my back—and I don’t want you even doing that.”

  “Those watchers sure as hell won’t have your back,” Phaelan muttered. “Not that I’d trust them to do it.”

  “Janek’s assured me he’s put together a team of the best of the city watch, including mages who combat black magic on a daily basis. If Janek trusts them, so do I.”

  Since Mermeia was a favorite with mages in retirement, the watch had to be ready for anything, anytime. I didn’t know if Janek’s mages were of the dark variety, but if they fought as dirty as I’d heard, I couldn’t imagine them being anything less.

  Phaelan scowled. “Watchers and dark mages.”

  “But they’re all on our side.”

  “If you say so.”

  We grew some uncomfortable silence.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said quietly. “I’d really rather you didn’t.”

  “I promised to help you nail Sethis Mortsani. He’s still running loose, meaning I haven’t done my job yet.”

  “Mortsani is the least of my concerns.”

  We both knew who had the most of my concern.

  “Not only am I in,” my cousin said, “you couldn’t keep me out.”

  *

  Phaelan was bristling with pointy steel.

  It wouldn’t do him any good against the Khrynsani, and he would be ill-advised to point it in the general direction of the city watchers with us. Some things you did simply to make yourself feel better, and if wearing enough steel almost to make him clank made my cousin feel safer, then so be it. To tell you the truth, Phaelan armed to the teeth at my back made me feel better. A little.

  I had only my usual throwing knives, a pair of long daggers up my sleeves, and my two swords strapped over my back. I wanted to be light enough to use what had often been my most effective defense.

  Fast feet.

  After I had a bag of soul-filled gems.

  Truth was, I didn’t have any big guns when it came to magic. Even though I’d never faced any Khrynsani, I kept telling myself that they couldn’t be much different than any other powerhouse mage I’d gone up against in the past. Admittedly I’d never taken on that many, but those that I had had one thing in common.

  Arrogance.

  Once a mage progressed beyond a certain level, spellwise, the more cocky among them started thinking that lesser magic was beneath them, whether performing it or defending against it. I had the basics of defensive magic covered, and it’d always been good enough. I had solid shields, excellent deflection skills, and I could seriously haul ass if a fight went sour.

  No one had seen Sethis Mortsani since he’d been at Sirens last night. No surprise there. He had his entry fee hidden in a safe place, and was probably holed up right along with it, waiting for game time.

  The plan was simple.

  The execution was where things were going to get hairy. “Execution” was Janek’s word, not mine.

  A raid by itself wouldn’t work. The gems would be small enough that all could be put in a purse which could easily be shielded and hidden in any number of ways. We couldn’t allow that to happen. Those children would pass the point of no soul return beginning at sunrise.

  The critical element to saving those children was yours truly.

  We had to know exactly where those jewels were before we made our first move.

  Janek had a goblin mage who would be doing the magical equivalent of drilling a tiny hole in whatever shields or wards the Khrynsani were sure to have all around that house, a hole that I could use to find those jewels and the captive souls inside. Seeking called for focus, and while focusing, I was vulnerable. Janek said his watchers would be protecting me, but Phaelan was there to back up my backup.

  Once I’d located the stones, Janek would launch his raid. Playing cards was far from illegal in Mermeia, but playing for captives was. Technically the law only mentioned physical captives, but Janek was prepared to stretch that law to include souls as well.

  The goblin watchers had reported midafternoon that they sensed the presence of demons on the first floor of the town house. This particular variety were vicious, utterly loyal to whoever had summoned them, and were able to snap off a man’s arm like a chicken wing and then eat it the same way.

  That sealed it for us. We had the place, the plan, and now all that was needed was the arrival of the players.

  Now came the worst part.

  The waiting.

  *

  The players were taking their own sweet time getting there.

  I couldn’t see them wanting to piss off their hosts by arriving fashionably late. Pavane Taregani, the organizer of this sick soiree, probably had them stagger their arrival times on purpose. Assessing a value in gold to the souls each had brought with them couldn’t be a quick process.

  I took a slow, deep breath and pushed my anger and impatience down. Five had already arrived, five more to go.

  The town house under surveillance was at the end of the street where the canal ended and the brackish water of the Daith Swamp began. There were no guards posted outside, or any light from inside to indicate that it was occupied. There would be no moon tonight, further shielding any suspicious activity from curious eyes, and the only sounds were water lapping against the buildings, along with frogs and other less harmless things in the Daith Swamp. We were in the small boathouse of a conveniently vacant town house across the canal from our target. There was enough room for the three of us, various and sundry boat supplies, and a launch tied to a small dock; a launch Janek had emphasized was for escape should something go wrong, not for me to go chasing Khrynsani.

  To do my job, I needed to have a line of sight to the house. Janek was familiar enough with my work to know that putting a canal—albeit a relatively narrow one—between me and my target wouldn’t adversely affect my results.

  As expected, the Khrynsani had the place locked down tight with wards and shields.

  The job of the slender goblin watcher crouched next to me would drill a hole through those wards—without the mages inside knowing about it. Nekat was also a telepath. Get through those wards, then let his boss know—a handy duo of talents to have.

  Janek’s guy would do the breaking; I’d do the entering. If either one of us as much as breathed wrong, the entire operation was screwed and those children were worse than dead.

  No pressure.

  Nekat was a goblin; Phaelan and I were elves. We didn’t have a problem with him; he had no quarrel with us. In short, a promising beginning to a hopefully productive working relationship.

  Janek had introduced me when we’d all gathered two hours ago at a small warehouse the watch used as a base for this section of the Goblin District. The town house that was our target was five blocks to the west. Phaelan had found himself a spot that just happened
to have a door to his left, a door to his right, and a wall at his back. Janek hadn’t bothered to introduce Phaelan. Every watcher in the city knew who he was. Now that he was sitting in close quarters with only one goblin mage had to be a much welcome relief.

  Phaelan’s anxiety level might have gotten a reprieve, but mine was just getting started.

  The goblin watcher seemed like a nice enough guy, but the success of tonight’s mission rested squarely on our shoulders. However, if he failed to do his job, I couldn’t do mine. Janek had assured me that Nekat had a level head, but it wasn’t his head I was worried about, it was the ironclad wards I had sensed. Just because I couldn’t drill through wards didn’t mean I couldn’t recognize a nearly impossible job when I felt one.

  Soon, the last player arrived and the watcher went to work. Out of professional courtesy, I stilled my mind to give him as much quiet as possible and kept my eyes on the house, stealing only occasional glances at his face.

  What I saw didn’t exactly fill me with optimism. The goblin’s clenched jaw, forehead beading with sweat, and shallow breath told me loud and clear that it wasn’t going well.

  Nekat closed his eyes, took a breath and slowly let it out.

  Oh yeah. He was having trouble. Major trouble.

  I didn’t make a sound and carefully kept the string of expletives running through my mind to myself.

  Just because I didn’t have Nekat’s skill set didn’t mean I couldn’t sense what he was up against. Not only were the Khrynsani wards solid, they had the most complex locking mechanisms I’d ever encountered.

  There was no way Nekat could get through that. It wasn’t only the wards I felt. Stronger than all of the wards put together was the psychic presence, weight, and stench of the two demons inside that town house. When Janek gave the signal, his team would be rushing into more than a house with ten card-playing mages—I wondered how many of his Khrynsani brothers the game master had brought with him. Though my gut already knew the answer.

  Enough. He’d brought more than enough.

  “Stand aside.”

  The words were Goblin. Our surprise, complete.

  Phaelan and I hissed the same word as we drew what steel was closest to hand. Phaelan’s rapier made it only half out of its scabbard when it was stopped by the gloved and steel-gauntleted hand of Tamnais Nathrach.

  It was no wonder we hadn’t seen him. Goblins could be damned near silent, and Nathrach blended perfectly with the night. He was all in black. What wasn’t leather was matte black armor and, I couldn’t help but notice, all of it formfitting. Nathrach noticed me noticing and gave me a quick, wicked grin.

  Nekat had a moment of wide-eyed amazement bordering on fear before his watcher training regained control. “Primaru Nathrach.” He stopped and swallowed. “This is official—”

  “Official city watch business,” Nathrach finished for him. “Yes, I know. I also know you’re not getting through those wards.”

  “Primaru” meant archmage of the royal blood. Nathrach may have left his job behind, but apparently the local goblin community felt the need to keep using his court title. Out of fear? Respect? Or both?

  Nekat didn’t want to admit defeat with those wards, though he and I both knew he was in way over his head.

  Like the rest of you aren’t, my pessimist chimed in.

  I didn’t bother telling her to shut up, because she was right. The longer it took to get through those wards, the longer we all got to live.

  Nathrach took his hand off the guard of Phaelan’s rapier. “Captain Benares, I assure you that I am here to render assistance to your cousin.” His eyes met mine. “And hopefully ruin the night of an old acquaintance.” He looked to Nekat. “May I?”

  “You are more than welcome, Primaru Nathrach. I wish you better luck.”

  Nathrach’s mouth curved in a bemused smile. “Luck has little to do with it. I know what they’re using. Plus, the incantations that built two of those wards they stole from me. Signal your chief to be ready. I’ll be through every ward in less than a minute.”

  “But that’s—”

  Another smile. “Not impossible. As a beautiful lady recently told me, ‘It ain’t bragging if it’s true.’”

  Tamnais Nathrach looked out an opening between two of the boathouse’s boards and across the canal at his target. The goblin mage tilted his head almost quizzically to one side, as if listening to a convoluted conversation. I immediately felt the wards silently unravel in one minuscule location with the simplicity of untying a shoe.

  It was nothing short of breathtaking work.

  It must have shown on my face.

  “You’re welcome,” Nathrach murmured.

  Normally a smug look like the one Tamnais Nathrach was wearing would have pissed me off; but when a man was that good, he could be as proud of himself as he wanted to be.

  I figured his ego didn’t need any boosting from me, so I gave him a quick nod and went to work.

  Nathrach had drilled the hole into the house; it was my job to find the souls. It didn’t take much work on my part—breathtaking or otherwise. The game master was depending on his wards to keep anyone out and all sense of those souls in. Unlike last night, I couldn’t hear the little boy.

  I heard them all.

  From inside the jewels’ confines, they were muffled like voices from behind gags.

  I didn’t dare project my presence beyond the opening in the wards, much like a mouse not sticking even the tip of one whisker out its hole in the wall and into a house full of hungry cats.

  I went utterly still—body, mind, and soul—and listened with my seeker senses to locate the souls’ exact location. I got a strong impression that they were together, but not clumped together in a bag, more like in the same room, spread out on a table. That accomplished, I slowly backed out until I was clear of the house and its wards. I sat back and took what felt like my first breath since I’d gone in.

  “First floor, back of the house.” I paused. “With demons.”

  Nathrach nodded, never taking his eyes from the house. “Pavane Taregani travels with a pair of balghuls as bodyguards. He prefers them to other species because they’re mute. No tongues.”

  That they were demons was enough for me, and unlike yesterday, I had no intention of asking Nathrach to elaborate on any more of their distinguishing characteristics.

  “Pavane will go out the back door and into the swamp.” Nathrach said it like that was exactly what he’d expected all along.

  Along with his Khrynsani mages and demons. And all that would be standing between them and the swamp was some of Phaelan’s crew in itty-bitty boats.

  I looked at Phaelan. Phaelan looked at me.

  Oh crap.

  *

  Within seconds of Nekat letting Janek know where the souls were, the chief watcher was done being subtle. He didn’t want those wards deactivated; he wanted them destroyed. I had to hand it to his people. They knew the meaning of teamwork, and the combination of their magical muscle shredded those wards in less than two minutes.

  Based on what I’d just witnessed, Nathrach could have done it alone in a fraction of the time, but I got the feeling he didn’t want to advertise that he was here—to anyone. I respected and would honor that.

  The ten players who’d kidnapped souls to buy a seat at that card table got exactly what they deserved—they were left high and dry by their host to fend for themselves. Once the Khrynsani had the souls, the only thing the players were good for was being a distraction while the goblins poured out the back door like rats off a sinking ship, leaving not just the players with no souls, no gold, and plenty of trouble from the watchers, but the two demons that had apparently been ordered to cover their master’s escape.

  An escape the Khrynsani had been ready to make.

  A trio of sleek, dark boats, with pilots all in black to blend with the night, appeared at the back door to pick them up. Where they hell had they come from?

  Nekat was dumbfou
nded. “That was a cloaking spell?”

  “And more,” Nathrach growled.

  The pilots’ magic on those boats was like reins on racehorses champing at the bit. Underneath, I felt the pull of Lady Kaharit’s jewels as about a dozen dark-garbed and hooded Khrynsani jumped aboard. That pull meant one of them was Pavane Taregani.

  Tamnais Nathrach leapt into the launch.

  I felt his magic ramping up, and knew what he was doing. He wasn’t doing it without me. I jumped in with him.

  “Mistress Benar—”

  “Raine. We’re gonna kick Khrynsani ass together; call me Raine.”

  Phaelan jumped in beside me. “I don’t give a shit what you call me.” He flung open the boathouse doors. “I’m not leaving her.”

  “We don’t have time to argue—”

  “I’m not arguing,” I told the goblin. “You are.” I quickly unwound the line from the dock cleat, casting us off. “Go!”

  Nathrach snarled a string of words in Goblin, fully expressing his feelings concerning our lack of cooperation.

  I just turned and smiled back at him.

  The boat surged forward with Nathrach’s power against its stern, like giving a horse a sharp smack on the rear. I yelped, clenched the sides of the boat, and hung on for dear life. The boat cut through the water faster than with a full sail in high wind. Phaelan whooped in approval.

  “Any idea how many Khrynsani there’ll be, since it’ll only be the three of us at first?” I asked.

  “The one of me,” the goblin corrected. “You two are staying in the boat.”

  “Can you track those souls?” I shot back.

  He couldn’t and I could. He knew it and he didn’t like it. Both realizations earned me an impressive growl.

  “You’re going to lose your crew,” Nathrach told Phaelan.

  “Nice try getting me to leave.” My cousin’s smile was ferocious. “Neither one’s happening. I’ve told them to follow, not engage. Those goblins want to get the hell out of here, not pick a fight.”