This woman didn’t know the plan, but she had time and location. Whatever was planned, it would happen tomorrow night at the base of the cliffs below the Fortress.
Every bar patron was there looking for work or wanted to get paid for work they’d already done for Boone. The strange part was all the jobs appeared unrelated and trivial. This character had compartmentalized the tasks, and no one had any idea they were part of a much bigger plan.
As he hopped from mind to mind, that picture became clearer. Boone was building an invasion force from the inside out, starting with disruption. The portal in the courtyard the other night was the main play. The disruption strategy was a fallback plan.
Charlie was too well-guarded. Astrid maintained the Protectorate too well. Its systems were still intact. Boone planned to undermine that. But how?
Putting mercenaries on the payroll was a damn good start. Getting Faleena to manage everything was even better. The woman manipulated the system like a master. That’s why Gormer had come to her. He just hadn’t expected her to be so firmly involved with the opposition.
She must have gotten an excellent deal.
Gormer searched for her mind to no avail. He knew she was in the tavern, but her mental barrier was strong enough to hide her. He could not help but respect that.
But in his openness to familiar minds, he found someone he knew.
Just one ale, the stable proprietor thought. Mortsen won’t mind. Boy can take care of himself. I deserve it. Damn horse ate all my sugar and still wanted to get out. So, I took him for a ride? He doesn’t even have to know.
Gormer found himself looking through Nick’s eyes at a large, frothing mug of ale. He felt the extreme pleasure as Nick took three large gulps and wiped his mouth. The alcohol calmed his anxious mind.
I am so glad you didn’t follow instructions, Gormer said inside Nick’s head.
The old man gasped and clasped both hands to his head.
Sorry, Nick, Gormer said quickly. It’s Gormer. You’re not going crazy. I’m using mental magic.
Get out of my head, you—”
I would, Gormer said, working hard to open his own mind to share his true feelings. But I’m in a lot of trouble. I really need your help. Again, I’m sorry.
Well, goat pucks on toast, son, ya put an old man in a pickle. How can I say no to someone who asks like that? I’m not a mean type like you. Didn’t you say you’d cut me when we met?
I regret that, Gormer admitted.
Do you regret it because I hesitate to help you or because you threatened an old man?
Both, Gormer thought. I’m new at being the good guy.
Nick laughed aloud by himself at the bar. He drew sideways looks from the patrons who gave him a bit more room.
You’re looking crazy, Gormer cautioned. Just act natural.
“You want my help, you do it my way,” Nick said aloud. He drained his mug and ordered another. And you’ll reimburse me for my drinks tonight and... Gormer watched numbers tick by in Nick’s mind. Pay me enough to drink for a month!
You need to cut back, old man, but I will agree to that.
Nick cackled and rubbed his hands together, drawing more concerned looks from the mercs. What do you want me to do?
Get to Boy. Ride as hard as you can to the fortress. Find Astrid. Tell her to come get us here. Hurry. We might not have long.
Chapter Fifteen
Here We Go Again
Astrid stood by the tables Vinnie had relocated from the workshop. He’d set them at the edge of the magical forest for his students.
Elise gave a few words of instruction to Jakub and Cole, whose motions blended together seamlessly to set things in place. If Astrid didn’t know any better, she’d say they were telepathically linked.
Cole showed no signs of his customary anger and impatience. He was still a bit clumsy, but that seemed to be his nature. Astrid assumed it was because he was barely fifteen. He was still growing into his body.
“Such a great kid,” a voice spoke over her shoulder.
Astrid turned to find Hanif approaching. “Which one?” Astrid asked.
“My new apprentice, of course,” Hanif clarified. “Cole.”
“He’s really taken to you,” Astrid said. “That’s good to see.”
Hanif considered his answer for a moment. “He surprises me every day. It saddens me my estimation of the woods people was so low.” Hanif sighed. “My own children chose not to follow in my footsteps.”
Astrid was surprised by both the admission and the stated fact. “I thought your office was passed down within families.”
“Not always. But even when it is, there are a series of trials and tests to earn the office of first lieutenant of an estate. My children are not interested. They grew up watching the toll it took on me. My son chose the way of a scribe. He wants to be a commissioner. My daughters both studied the mercantile arts. They want to be traders and shopkeepers.” The next statement shocked Astrid into silence. “Cole’s parents are dead. I’m considering adoption. I want him to be my son.”
Astrid stood speechless. Hanif shifted on his feet. “I suppose it’s not proper to share such personal things with my superior.”
“I’m grateful,” Astrid spoke quickly. “You demonstrate trust, which I honor.” She paused to let the words sink in and found unvoiced regret. “Things are moving so fast… I’m missing some very important things happening in the lives I’ve sworn to protect.”
“You have humbled us and set us on the right course,” Hanif replied. “Something like that can’t be without errors and omissions. Most of us also want to honor this trust.”
“Most of you…” Astrid trailed off with arched eyebrows.
A commotion interrupted the conversation, followed by two blasts from a horn.
“Intruder at the gates,” Astrid said. “If you’ll excuse me…”
She drew energy from the Well to cover the distance to the gate. Her feet skimmed across the ground as she sprinted. She reached the main gate in seconds and skidded to a stop.
A lathered, panting horse reared up, then paced in agitation. An old man short a few teeth struggled to hang on.
“Let me off, you crazy beast,” the man wailed in fear. “You done yer damn job. Let me down!”
“Halt!” a young guard shouted. She was one of four with crossbows aimed at horse and man. “Go no further! Stand and be recognized!”
“Idiots,” the man shouted. “If I could get off this beast and stand, I would! I need to see Astrid! Go get her, you rot-brains!”
“I’m here,” Astrid announced in her command voice. She turned to the nearest guard. “Go get the stable chief. Hurry.”
“What’s the trouble here?” Astrid asked.
“Trouble?” the man replied, desperately trying to stay in the saddle as the horse practically jumped back and forth. “Besides the fact this horse tried to kill me?”
“I got that,” Astrid replied. She tried to approach Boy, but the horse backed away and bared his teeth. “He really is upset.”
“You have brilliant insight into horses,” the man spat.
Boy shifted his focus to the stable chief, who clicked his tongue and stepped forward slowly with his eyes lowered. “There you go, Boy. It’s all right,” he soothed. “You remember me.”
Boy finally calmed down enough for the chief to touch his neck. The man jumped off and would have fallen if Astrid hadn’t been there to catch him.
“My goodness, you are a substantial woman,” Nick said, looking up into her eyes.
“So I’m told,” Astrid smiled.” Let’s get you some refreshment, and you can tell me what’s going on.”
“No time for that,” Nick replied. “Your man Gormer and my friend Mortsen are being held at Faleena’s tavern right now. There’s a plot going on. Lots of mercs. They’re gonna make a move on the Fortress or something. Bad for business. The quarter shouldn’t take the blame.”
“The quarter will be fine.” Sh
e turned to the Chief as he led Boy away. “Please bring me two of your fastest horses.” To the guards, she ordered. “See this man gets food and water. Find First Lieutenant Hanif and tell him to report here. Be quick.”
The guard scurried off to their tasks. She made a mental note to commend the watch commander. Whoever it was sent guard replacements immediately.
“Spread the word,” Astrid directed to the replacement watch. “Stay on high alert tonight.”
To her surprise, Tracker and Moxy appeared from the shadows. They both wore long, slate-gray cloaks with hoods over their heads and their blowpipes across their backs.
“What brings you two here tonight?” Astrid asked.
“We heard the horns,” Moxy replied.
Tracker said nothing and squatted with his cloak around him on the ground.
“I’m surprised to see you clothed at night,” Astrid said.
“Easier to move in both worlds,” Tracker admitted. “There is a bad scent in your world tonight. We have been traveling in your box forests.”
Moxy sighed. “He means the town.”
The stable chief arrived with two horses and Hanif close behind.
“What do you need, Protector?” Hanif asked.
“Wait!” a voice called, accompanied by the clatter and clank of metal on metal. “I can help!”
Cole trotted to them in his lumpy armor. “Let me get a horse. With what you taught me, I can—”
“No,” Hanif replied firmly. “You can serve better here.”
“But I heard that old man saying Gormer is in trouble,” Cole objected. “I’m ready. I can—” Cole tried to draw his blunt practice sword and dropped it in the dirt.
His face reddened, and sweat immediately popped up on his brow. He nearly stabbed his hand trying to put the sword back in its scabbard. The self-consciousness and teenage awkwardness were difficult to watch.
Hanif stepped forward and clapped Cole hard on the shoulder. “Look at me,” he commanded. Cole glared at him with bleary anger. “There is more to being a warrior than lashing out with weapons. Your mission is to stay here and stand watch. Keep your eyes open and follow the lead of older soldiers. Do you understand?”
“We could use another set of eyes.” The watch commander called as she finally revealed herself. “I overheard you’re ready to serve.”
“But I want to—” Cole began. He found all eyes focused on him expectantly. “I’ll stay here and do my duty,” he finally concluded.
“Good man,” Astrid replied as she mounted her horse.
Moxy hopped up to sit behind Hanif and Tracker joined Astrid.
The two pixies stood on the horse's haunches as they galloped down the winding road into the Fortress Wards. Astrid had no idea how they managed to stay upright, but they did so as if they had glue on the soles of their feet.
Back in the Quarter
“You were out a while,” Mortsen said. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“I’m back,” Gormer replied. He didn’t recognize his physical voice for a moment. Coming back into his own body was always disorienting.
“Well, what did you find out?”
“They’re preparing for some big move on the Fortress,” Gormer divulged. “And I found Nick. I told him to go get help.”
“Nick!” Mortsen exclaimed. “That puckered pig anus! Who’s watching Boy?”
“He brought Boy.”
Mortsen growled and pulled at his restraints. “I paid that old man extra.”
“It worked out. His thirst probably saved our asses. And I got into Boy’s head. Placed some urgency in there. Nick is in for some ride.”
“You bastard,” Mortsen huffed. “If you mess up my horse’s head, I’m gonna—”
The door to their prison opened and let in a wave of tobacco smoke. Faleena appeared in all her frumpy glory with the voluptuous Kate at her side.
Gormer sighed. “Such a shame, Kate. We could have had such a great time together.”
“I don’t get with weaklings like you,” Kate sneered. “I need a man of substance, as measured by the size of his coin purse.”
“Thank you for removing the last scrap of my attraction to you,” Gormer said. “I owe you one for that. I dodged—”
Kate took two quick steps forward and punched Gormer square in the crotch.
“And I owe you for that,” Mortsen cackled. “Let me out of this thing so I can beat on him too!”
Faleena walked over to Mortsen, took a long draw on her pipe and blew the smoke in his face. His head looked like the crest of a mountain covered in mist.
“Gah!” Mortsen voiced, then coughed. “I hate tobacco smoke.”
“Where do you get your leaf?” Gormer asked Faleena. “If you let us out of here, I know a guy—”
Kate punched him in the stomach this time.
“Let me loose,” Mortsen tittered. “I’ll show ya how to punch him proper!”
“How stupid do you think I am?” Faleena hissed.
“Well, seeing as you’ve aligned yourself with a monster from another world,” Gormer reasoned. “I think you’re supremely stupid.”
“Monster from—” Faleena interrupted herself with unrestrained laughter. “Who told you that, your self-righteous bitch of a queen?”
“Careful now,” Gormer warned, menace seeping into his voice. “You still have a way out of this.”
“There is only one way out for you,” a soft, strange voice spoke from the doorway. “And that is to obey my master and give up the Arbori. It will be better for you.”
The man who stepped out of the dark hallway and into the dimly-lit room walked with a limp. His shaggy, brown hair hung across a forehead that sloped backward above bushy, prominent eyebrows. One of his eyes was larger than the other, and both showed very little blue iris. The skin on his jowly cheeks hung like pale, fleshy curtains framing a small, thin-lipped mouth punctuated by a weak, pockmarked chin.
“Oh,” Gormer sputtered, more from revulsion than surprise. It was not his habit to judge people on their outward appearance, but this person just looked wrong somehow. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was about the man that put him at such unease.
“You must be Boone,” Gormer said, forcing a smile. “We’ve heard a great deal about you. Untie me and let’s have a drink. We can talk, and you can get to know me.”
“I already know who you are, Gormer. I know your strong friend Mortsen. I know Astrid, and I know the modified humans you call pixies. I know the Forge Monk and the fat man, too. My lord has many eyes with which to see you.”
Gormer snickered at the description of Vinnie. “Forgive me for correcting you but knowing about them is different than knowing them. If you don’t let us go, you’re gonna get to know them in the worst way possible.”
“You distract Boone,” the man said. He moved forward with his pot belly leading the way. His hips moved in semi-circles as he walked as if his hip joints were misplaced. “Master requires me to have you comply, but I won’t hurt you unless you force me.”
Boone removed a smooth, red, cone-shaped object from his cloak. He set it down between Mortsen and Gormer.
“So, you have some weird plant in a flower pot,” Gormer observed.
Boone moved his swollen, clumsy fingers above the thing and it glowed red. The cone revealed seams where there were none before. It opened in three sections to reveal a mass of glowing, writhing, translucent tentacles.
“Oh, all right,” Gormer said. “We’ll talk. I get it. You can put—”
His body went stiff as the tentacles that had snaked across the floor wrapped around his wrists and ankles. His skull burned as if his brain were a brush fire.
Hang on, Mortsen’s voice said in his head. I can help you resist.
I thought you wanted to punch me, Gormer answered. And how the hell do you keep getting in my mind?
I always want to punch you. Mortsen answered in his head. I’ll help you hang on long enough for me t
o do that, so you better stay with me. But as for how I’m doing this, you’ll just have to figure it out.
Shitsickle, Gormer thought.
Goat scrotum, Mortsen thought in return.
“Do not resist,” Boone said. “Please. I have not told the pitcher plant to talk to you yet. You can still talk to me. It won’t be so bad. Just obey.”
Gormer relaxed into the pain as he traded juvenile insults with Mortsen.
Chapter Sixteen
This Place Again…
The quarter had no defined border, but having been there, one knew where it started. Tracker leaped from the back of Astrid’s horse as soon as they came to a stop. He somersaulted and landed on his feet in a crouch.
He threw his blowpipe into the air and whipped off his cloak in a single motion. The blowpipe seemed to stop in midair and travel to Moxy, who collected the item. Tracker disappeared into the shadows by the dormant buildings on the outskirts. Moxy did much the same in a far less dramatic fashion.
Hanif gawked at the sight of two cloaks seeming to float through the air on their own. Astrid gathered the garments and placed them across her saddle as she led them to the stables.
A shirtless young man with stooped shoulders and a piece of straw in his mouth greeted them with dull eyes. “Whatcha need?” he asked in listless tones. A jug of something rested behind him on a bale of hay.
“Nick sent us,” Astrid said.
“Three double-coins,” the boy stated.
“Nick sent us,” Astrid repeated.
“Sayin’ words don’t pay for feed,” the boy countered, shifting the straw in his mouth. “Nor for my time when I could be home makin’ the missus call my name.”
“I have no coin,” Astrid shot back.
“Now how does the Protector have no coin? Don’t you have a whole treasury?”
“I understand,” Hanif said. “It’s a new day with a new leader. Things are different now, and I am glad for this.” He stepped closer to the boy and looked down at him with a rapier smile. “But I’m fairly certain you’d not talk to the old Protector like that. Common courtesy and basic respect are still valued in this land.”
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