by Pam Uphoff
Jaimie felt right at home, back in Karista.
Not a good thing. This is not home, either.
At least it had been a fast trip. The general had authorized a helicopter drop off outside a port city on the Cific, just south of the border with the Kingdom. Then a three day sail up the coast. The speed of a modern civilization was hard to adjust to. Readjust.
"Solti Jaimie, how nice to see you again." Private Antonio Ferraro had been managing the practical side of the embassy here for a decade, and met the hired trap that had brought them from the dock to the embassy building.
"Tony, long time no see and all that." Jaime turned to the other soldier. "This is Solti Ahmad Marquis, he came to Fascia six months ago, to get some broadening of his experience. The Amma decided to broaden it even further."
Marquis glared. "I am hardly untraveled." The snotty French accent came through clearly, despite all the coaching he'd had over the last six months.
Tony rolled his eyes and pulled their luggage from the back of the little trap as Jaime paid off the driver. "The Ambassador's social secretary will no doubt provide you with invitations to the various parties, although this is the slack season. Another six weeks and the autumn balls will be in full swing."
"We'll tour the countryside a bit, as well. All the times I've been here, I've never seen the Northern Ice, nor been up in the mountains."
Tony's eyebrows rose. "Well, fortunately they have corridors nearly everywhere. So you won't have to spend too much time on the road."
Marquis frowned. "I've read about corridors, but I don't believe in magic. This whole 'corridors' thing is a linguistic twist. It has no significance."
Tony blinked at him, and looked back at Jamie. "Six months?"
"He hasn't been out and around much." Jamie grabbed his bag and headed for the door. Marquis followed him. Now we just need to find some of the people who make those corridors and snatch them.
. . . I may not survive this!
Marquis sneered at the party invitations.
Jaime shook his head. "This is the best way to talk to some of the younger adult members of the magic community. We'll chat them up, find out who can make corridors and gates. Once we've got targets, we can call for a helicopter pickup and be gone before anyone can stop us. Mind you, collecting a magician undiscovered will be high on my list of priorities."
Sneer. "Thank you so much for that brilliant plan, Private Felis."
. . . I'm not going to survive this.
The first ball they attended was at the city home of the duke from Rocky Coast.
Jaime nodded at one group of glowing gorgeous women. "That group is our most obvious target. Get friendly but . . . " He shut his mouth on the rest at his superior's glare. "I've met about half of them. Want me to introduce you?"
"No. Since to date you've gotten nowhere with them, I'll check out the real power." Lieutenant Marquis turned toward a group of older men.
Politicians. Well, if you don't believe in magic . . .
Jaime migrated toward the Sisters from Hell, detouring slightly to pick up a glass of champagne. Duke Leo must be celebrating his escape from the frozen north. He cocked an ear toward the Sisters and picked up the voice of a women he couldn't recall meeting, although she looked familiar.
"Sienna is too young to advance, no matter how many of her contemporaries have."
Trump, the senior witch of the local pyramid nodded. "I don't know whether to blame it on the Oners for attacking, or Lady Gisele for using that wine in the infirmary. She ought to have known it would get out of hand." She sighed. "Not that I wasn't a hormonally driven terror from about twelve years of age on."
"Well, from what I've heard, you were a terror in every way possible."
Damn, he knew that woman, couldn't think of her name. How many redheaded witches did he know . . . "Oh . . . I always wondered if I'd ever see you again."
The redhead turned, frowned. "Do I know you?"
"Ah . . . I think we met briefly, years ago." Jaime's feet seemed to have moved closer without his willing it. She knows I'm from Earth. I should ease out of here before she recognizes me.
Tromp snorted. "Solti Jaime Lillian is the son of the Fascian Amma. He wanders through occasionally. This is Neptunite and her daughter Sienna."
"Oooo! A Solti! A Prince!" A younger redhead bounced forward, looking him over with bright eyes and sticking out her hand.
Shake or kiss?
He flinched back at a flash of power.
The girl jumped a little, her eyes and mouth rounding in astonishment. "Oh! Are you my father?"
Jaime stood, stunned.
"Oh! That's why you look so familiar." The older redhead grinned. "My little bit of fresh meat from Earth. How did you wind up in Fascia?"
"Err, once we survived the . . . occurrences, we sort of melted into the culture."
Her grin widened. "Riiight. That's why you're parading about here as one of the Amma's sons. Put that drink down and come dance with me."
So, of course he told her a little bit about it, and she told him a bit about making corridors and gates.
His daughter could make gates.
"You can't really be from Earth." Neptunite had, by then, led him out into the garden and had him pinned up against a tree. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, she didn't seem inclined to get him out of his clothes. "You glow. You need to go to the Wizards' School, and learn how to shield properly, and then start using your abilities." She smirked suddenly. "But if you are really looking into dimensional abilities, you ought to concentrate on Yoderite, Zeolite and Fuchsia. Let's go back inside and I'll introduce you." She giggled in a way that had Jaime sweating.
She's going to throw me to the wolves and watch me get eaten.
"I think I've met them all." Not that he didn't follow her . . .
Lady Yoderite had her dark blonde hair up on her head like most of the women here, but wispy curls framed her face and let her peer coyly through them. Her eyes teased him, her body undulated just out of contact when they danced. A few suggestive bumps when his attention drifted . . . He spotted Marquis and danced Yoderite that direction.
The lieutenant looked dissatisfied, standing alone. Obviously he hadn't gotten anywhere with the political types. The music stopped and Jamie turned to him and introduced her.
"You know, what Fascia needs to do is to hire one of your engineering companies. Ahmad, you ought to talk to her about it." He smiled at the tease. "It's one of his big interests."
Yoderite studied the lieutenant, and her eyes started twinkling. Jamie suspected the Lieutenant was about to get led on a wild goose chase. Good. He faded back and started looking for other people with glow.
***
Lieutenant Ahmad Marquis eyed the gorgeous woman. Probably not terribly bright. Let's see what she knows.
"Engineering companies? I thought the corridors were made with magic."
Her gaze ran up and down his frame, and he caught himself breathing faster. "Oh, yes!" Breathless, with bedroom eyes. "The magicians are starting to organize themselves into companies so they can hire ordinary staff, be more easily contacted, make someone else do the paperwork and taxes." She took a deep breath, expanding a very nice bosom covered by just enough fabric to tantalize without looking cheap. "I suppose I ought to do something of the same sort. I mean, I've had the lessons, but who wants to traipse all over creation dragging corridors."
He gave her an expert twirl. "How about gates to other worlds? Seems like they'd be more expensive, so you could work less and charge more."
Her eyes brightened. "Oh, aren't you the clever one! I wonder about that. I really ought to experiment . . . "
Holy cats! I've got a live one on the first try. Now how do I get her out into the countryside for a pickup? Or maybe she's just leading me on. I should make her prove it.
"I suppose you'd have to have proof that you can do it, to get any customers. How many gates have you opened?"
Her eyes widened. "No
ne! It's dangerous . . . but . . . umm . . . "
"I'll come along, protect you." Drat, the music is over.
She bit her lip. "Meet me for lunch tomorrow at the Emerald Tea House. Corner of Harold and Springdale. I . . . I'll think about this." She whirled away, and dived into the press of young men around, emerging with a dance partner as the orchestra started the next dance tune.
Lieutenant Marquis scowled, spotting Felis—that is Solti Jaime—out on the dance floor with a tall redhead. I need to totally overshadow that gone-native private. Heh. He knew right where to go. He could have had a permanent gate home decades ago. Bloody traitor. Pity I'll have to have him along tomorrow.
He danced with a few other women and failed to talk to more of the . . . mundane government men.
Yoderite came back and took him out to the dance floor, teasing and flirting. Solti Jaime was back to dancing with his redhead. Native lover.
He found himself pulled into the group of giggly women . . . and finally realized they were laughing at him, not giggling coyly. Especially the strawberry blonde who kept managing to get between him and Yoderite. The badly misnamed Beige seemed to delight in flirting with the other women's boyfriends. Solti Jaime's redhead glared daggers at her, the other redhead looked sympathetic. The third redhead was ridiculously young and seemed to be studying Jaime and his favorite redhead, who was apparently named Neptunite. Not in a flirtatious way, more surprised or bemused.
The evening turned into the very early morning before they made it back to the embassy. Marquis managed, between yawns, to inform Felis that they were going to be helping a witch make a gate sometime after lunch.
***
The Beautiful Woman was getting very busy.
Teri looked around the maze of rooms with an ironic smile. She'd learned so much from watching Ricardo set up spots for his very expensive hits, she knew all about how to make people like a place, to want to return. She'd been working here for just a month, and she already knew how she was going to change it after Madam Jolister retired and sold the beauty salon to her. Not that Madam Jolister realized she was going to retire so soon. Nor that she was going to sell so cheaply to a new employee.
Oh, the beauty salon was different than the cat houses Ricardo set up. But they both catered to egos and relied on beauty. Here no one was going to die. Dye, yes. And walk out looking like something to die for, certainly.
Once she took over, women would get facials that really did make the skin look younger. Hair styling, dyeing, conditioning, straightening, curling, lengthening. Hot tubs to soak in. Masseuses.
Potions for weight loss, sexual appeal, rejuvenation, health, fertility. She could cure alcoholism or drug addiction. Cancer was tougher, but she rather thought that she'd finally teased that separate spell out of the Wine.
She'd hung around in the background while Ricardo talked with the other wizards about things. Little did he know she'd remembered every word he'd ever spoken in her presence.
Yes. Another eight or nine months. She needed time to establish herself in the clients' minds. So they would accept the change of ownership easily. But more practically, she needed to wait until this baby was born. Not that she'd ever gotten very big, right up till the end, but holding illusions constantly was a bit of a strain. She'd wait until she was back on her feet—which with the wine would be a matter of days—before she took over. Then the customers would find that she could do things other beauty experts only dreamed of. A few, for special consideration, were getting special treatments already.
"Lady Tressa?" one of the obedient workers approached her diffidently. "Lady Marcia Succuro has arrived."
Middle-aged daughter of the late Duke, half sister of the nineteen year old Duke. "Excellent, I trust you've gotten her some refreshments?"
"Of course."
Teri, no, she wasn't Teri anymore. She was Lady Tressa. She was taller, shapelier, blonder and prettier than she'd ever been in her previous life. Lady Tressa strolled into the lady's presence and greeted her as an equal.
"My dear, I'm so glad you've come to us. The years are not kind to our complexions, but I've used my family's herb lore to develop some very effective therapies. We'll refresh your skin, and shape your hair into the newest style and send you out to utterly stun your husband."
Lady Marcia curled a sarcastic lip. "My dear. Rumor has it that you can do a great deal better than that, and I am a very rich woman."
Lady Tressa smiled. "Fortunately I am not a greedy woman. Twenty thousand royals for the full treatment, and you may tip according to how much we've exceeded your expectations."
"That's absurd!"
"Indeed it is. Perhaps you'd like to start today with a quick skin treatment?" Lady Tressa smiled. And once you believe, you won't be satisfied with anything less than being young inside and out.
She snapped her fingers and summoned one of the boys. "A facial for Lady Marcia. I have some . . . floral additives for the oil." She took the little bowl of coconut oil and cast the spell for tightening skin to it. And a bit of white rose scent, just for the esthetics. She smiled as she turned back to the Lady. "You'll love this."
She handed the tiny bowl to the boy and wafted off. She'll be back . . .
Movement out in front of the shop caught her eye. An ornate carriage halted in front of the row of shops. A pair of young men, redheads who looked so much alike they had to at least be brothers, if not twins, were in attendance. One was driving, the other opened the carriage door with a flourish and handed out Yoderite and Beige.
Karista witches, not Ash. They won't be very well trained. Do I dare? She snickered and sauntered out the door. "Hi, you guys here for a modern cut?"
The two witches turned and looked blankly at her.
"Oh, sorry. I guess you don't remember me. Tressa Freedaut, from Rip Crossing. I've seen you in Ash a few times."
Beige crinkled her nose. "Tressa?"
"I know, I know, I ought to have a stupid color name. My mom's not a witch, but, you know, Rip Orgies. Richie's apparently my father, but I was five before they realized I was a witch, and no point in trying to change my name."
"Oh, you Rippers. We avoid you, as much as possible." Yoderite looked down her nose.
"And," Beige sniffed. "We're here for tea with some gentlemen."
Tressa grinned. "Tea? Is that what they're calling it now? Well, if you have a sudden need for a triad, do let me know."
The witches swapped glances.
"A triad. I should have thought of that." Yoderite frowned at Tressa. "Want to come along? We're going to try to open a gate."
Old Gods! You want to show me how to open a gate? "Well . . . "
"Oh, do come along. It will be fun." Yoderite smirked. "Cute guys." She nodded at the two men leaving the tea shop.
***
One corner of the intersection of Harold Avenue and Springdale Street held what, on Earth, Jaime would have called a strip center. "The Beautiful Woman" held down one end, then a string of shops, half vacant, with the "Emerald Tea House" at the far end.
Jaime was on his second cup of excellent tea, and ignoring the lieutenant's fidgeting, before a carriage pulled up and the two witches emerged. Eyeing the beauty shop.
"If they stop for a shampoo and trim, I'm leaving," Marquis muttered.
A woman stepped out of the beauty shop. A spectacular blonde. They started chatting.
Jaime stood up, dropped a tip on the table. Marquis headed for the door.
Yoderite spotted them and waved at the carriage. "When I told Lord Hell we were going for a ride in the country, he insisted we take the carriage."
Beige smirked. "Daddy's a bit over protective. I can't imagine why he was relieved that I invited myself along. Or maybe he was relieved because Hed and Sundo volunteered to play staff."
Yoderite batted her eyelashes at the lieutenant. "And this is Tressa. So come along, let's find some nice open spot for experimenting."
"I know just the place!" The young man driving g
rinned. "It's called Grantown, it's got lots of unclaimed land just to the south, you can do anything you want without anyone noticing a thing."
"Excellent, Hed. Take us there." Yoderite lifted her skirts to climb aboard, and a huff of wind displayed a great deal more leg than was considered proper.
The lieutenant follow her, mesmerized. Tressa sniggered, and accepted Jaime's hand up into the carriage. He repeated the process with Beige, who managed a great deal of body contact in the process, then squeezed Tressa against the side and pulled Jaime down to sit beside her.
Jaime squinted at the driver, the footman . . . glowing, both of them. Not servants. No one in the King's Own that I know of. Friends of the Sisters perhaps?
The four fancy carriage horses—matched metallic silver duns—trotted briskly across town to Commerce Street. The broad boulevard was being widened.
Yoderite looked out and sighed. "They're going to put up corridors all along here. I ought to have thought about working sooner."
Jaime's mouth went dry. "They're putting up lots of corridors? The last time I was here they only had corridors to Havwee and Farofo." Earth will never leave you alone if you flaunt your dimensional . . . things.
Tressa laughed. "They have so much traffic both towns are putting in a second corridor, one coming, one going. For several other places, too. They've already got singles for some of the larger towns."
Beige snuggled up against him. "I've heard of this Grantown. It isn't that big, but it's midway between a bunch of small towns and there are lots of farms along the river, so with the corridor fruit and vegetables can be hauled here while still fresh."
Marquis frowned. "I've never heard of it . . . where . . . " He broke off as the carriage swerved. An odd twisting sensation . . . and dry dust blowing through the carriage windows.
The footman stuck his head in. "We'll turn off west, in a few miles, where it's so dry no one wants the land."
Jamie stuck his head out as the horses' shoes rang on pavement. They were on a good hard road, heading south by the early afternoon shadows. Dry hills covered with stunted trees and brush, a bit higher to the west. We must be just east of the Karista river. Do they irrigate?
