Cascades (Wine of the Gods Book 24)

by Pam Uphoff

  Cascades

  Pam Uphoff

  Three tales in the Wine of the Gods Universe

  that refuse to be hammered into a single story,

  despite events that cascade from one to the next.

  Copyright © 2016 Pamela Uphoff

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN

  978-1-939746-15-3

  This is a work of fiction.

  All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional.

  Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Map of the Kingdom of the West

  Beauty and the Thief

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Magic Trash

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Corridors

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Out Take One:

  The Pale Woman

  Out Take Two:

  God of Thieves

  Out Take Three:

  Grantown Hex

  About the Author

  Other Books by Pam Uphoff

  Excerpt from an upcoming release

  Map of the Kingdom of the West

  Beauty and the Thief

  Chapter One

  Spring 1397

  Crossroads, Foothills Province, section 1, Kingdom of the west

  Kevi was not having any luck with the unnoticeable charm. Inside his pocket, nothing. Outside, rolling it around in his fingers, nothing.

  Oh, the soldiers sort of stopped eyeing him, but the waitress, the dark girl they called Nighthawk was watching him like a hawk.

  Does she think I'm going to steal the silverware? He smirked down at the mismatched ironmongery he was eating with. Nope. I have better plans. He gave up and dropped the charmed bit of gold back in his pocket. I'll have to do this on my own . . . and after all, if I am the God of Thieves, the collective subconscious should be helping me. When I need to know something . . . He eyed the locked door under the staircase . . . I'll know how to do it. Right?

  He scowled at the two scrawny boys who were timidly clearing away the dirty dishes and carrying them back to the kitchen.

  Nighthawk swooped up to him. "Dessert? Cherry or apple pie."

  "Cherry, please." He bit his lip and reluctantly pulled out his purse. Stealing a mere meal is beneath me. Plus by paying, maybe she'll relax and stop acting like an ax murderer eyeing her next victim.

  Harry, the God of Travelers, was off somewhere. Traveling. Very appropriate, especially in the Traveler's wagon. So it was just Flare, the cook, who luckily was busy enough to have not come out here—she might have recognized him—that Nighthawk and another young witch named Lapwing to worry about. The two boys . . . probably they'd be on his side, want to come with him, away from this place.

  He jumped a bit as a plate with a generous wedge of cherry pie slid in front of him. I need to be more alert. How am I going to avoid guards if a teenage witch can sneak up on me?

  "Thanks, umm, how much . . . ?"

  "Five crowns." She stared down at him, as if doubting he had that much, then turned and stalked off.

  Cheap. But then again, this isn't the New Lands where everyone has gold nuggets in their pockets, and the food gets shipped in from thousands of miles away. And Harry probably doesn't pay the witches hardly anything.

  He scarfed his pie and plunked six crowns down on the table. Sniffed and added another. Thinks I'm cheap, does she?

  Four soldiers got up from their table and walked out, talking. The other patrons glanced that direction.

  Kevi slipped out of his chair and threw his strongest unnoticeable spell on himself as he stepped over to the door under the stairs. The knob turned a few degrees and stopped. Kevi rotated his finger around and around the lock, a kinetic spell . . . caught, the locked clicked and the door gave.

  Now to find the Spear of the Traveler.

  This will be my first Great Theft.

  Kevi backed in—no one was looking this way—he sidestepped and closed the door. Turned around.

  To face an ordinary shabby comfortable bachelor's den. Big comfy chair, lots of book cases . . . Kevi frowned up at the high windows.

  "Corridors? So he can have natural light for reading down here? Huh." He couldn't decide whether that was decadent or sensible. "I suppose that's all right, he probably makes them himself."

  The was a spear leaning casually in a corner. Nasty sharp steel head, but otherwise quite ordinary. Kevi eased up to the door on the far side . . . A bubble. The door sealed it. he grabbed a book to prop it open and keep it from sealing behind him.

  Beyond the door was a . . . thing. Metal and glass, an ornate ten foot tall rectangle . . . he stood on his tip toes and peered through the glass . . . an aisle with seats on both sides, and right up against the glass to his right, a single seat, facing a steering wheel.

  He blinked, slowly recognizing what he was looking at.

  "A bus? An old bus like in the books about automobiles. I do not understand." Kevi edged around the side, ducked down and squeezed between the cylindrical bus and the wooden wall. He crept all the way to the back, around and back to where he'd started . . . not even a door in the wooden walls. A back "emergency exit only" on the back of the bus, and some folding doors at the front. He pushed through the folded doors and walked through the bus, trying to be very quiet.

  It's as old as the gods. They brought it with them, in the Exile.

  And there's no spear.

  He squeezed through the folding doors and back to the bachelor pad. He frowned at the plain spear in the corner.

  "Maybe when he's summoned, it gets fancy. Like he gets that weird armor like in the books." He nodded in satisfaction. Picked up the spear and eased the door under the stairs open to check for enemies.

  The door creaked. He winced, but the room was empty of people, dark. Just a bit of moon glow through the windows. He stuck his head out.

  A fist closed on his hair. He was hauled out and crashed to the floor.

  Nighthawk loomed over him.

  Flare burst through the kitchen door, lantern held high. The second witch and the two boys were just a bit behind her.

  "What do you think you're doing?" Nighthawk's eye widened and she pounced. "Harry's spear? You were going to steal Harry's spear? Are you insane?"

  "I'm going to be the greatest thief in all the Worlds." Kevi climbed to his feet and scowled at the spear now in her hands. "I was going to steal The Spear from the God of Travelers."

  "You are mad. The Travelers would kill you."

  "I'd have returned it as soon as he stopped stealing and abusing children." He pointed at the boys.

  Flare leaned forward frowning. "Kevi? Is that you? The boys just got here two days ago. Harry hasn't had time to feed them up, teach them to read and write and set them on their way. Which is what he has always done."

  "He has?" Flare would know . . . wouldn't she? His stomach sank.

  Nighthawk tossed her head. "Yes. And for someone who wants to be a g
reat thief, you aren't impressing me, Kevi. Why don't you go steal the War God's Black Stallion? He'll tromp you into jelly, and then the rest of us can relax."

  "Very funny. He's on my list, right after I steal a Hell Hound." Kevi straightened and raised his nose a bit.

  Nighthawk leaned the spear against the wall and advanced on him. Grabbed an ear. "Just to show you what a nice girl I am, I'm going to demonstrate to you what an utter incompetent you are. Maybe, just maybe, it will save your life."

  She hauled him out to the street and thrashed him.

  Then hauled him back inside and found him a bed. "Maybe you should consider sticking around long enough for some lessons."

  Kevi winced. Uh oh. This sounds like one of those painful learning experiences all heroes have to go through.

  Chapter Two

  Spring 1397

  Karista, Kingdom of the West

  Mrs. Leanna Janic knocked uncertainly at the door. The neighborhood was definitely borderline, and much poorer than anyplace someone like Tressa should be living in. But this was the house the boy from the salon had brought her to when she demanded it.

  A little mouse of a maid answered the door.

  "Is Tressa in?"

  "No Ma'am."

  She stood there like a dummy.

  "Then I shall await her inside." Leanna stepped up and the maid yielded.

  The parlor wasn't much, and had somehow gotten sand tracked inside. Not to mention the box of crying puppies. Big ugly puppies. As if this wasn't going to be awkward enough . . .

  Irritated, she snapped at the maid. "Bring me a pot of tea and those puppies some scraps of meat."

  The maid scurried off. The scraps and the tea arrived promptly, and Leanna sighed as she sat down. Probably a fool's errand. but surely Tressa would refund that last payment. Without it, she'd be truly desperate in days.

  She looked around the pokey little parlor and her heart sank.

  Tian had sold the house. Sold it. He said he'd give her a stipend to live on, but that he was going to invest her half of the money from the house so she could only get the interest. "It's enough for you to live on modestly. Be satisfied. If I let you, you'd run through the capital in a year and wind up a vagrant on the street."

  Old gods she hated men. She'd freed herself of Tian just like Lester had been urging, and then he'd looked at her in horror and said she couldn't possibly have been stupid enough to have actually done it. And he'd gotten up and walked out without another word, leaving her to pay the bill. Then Tian wouldn't even listen to an explanation or an apology. He'd sold the house. Handed her a key to a tiny apartment. He'd had all her things moved there. But there was no food. She was on her last candle. Three royals, six crowns and two pence to her name until this proposed stipend and this theoretical interest came through. I'd gotten out of the habit of being frugal. Out of the habit of being sensible. If I can just get through this month . . . I'll remember how to cook, how to really, really budget. She gave a bitter snort. How to not get taken in by a con man, a lounge lizard. I loaned him money . . . because he flattered me, seduced me. I didn't think Tian cared any more. About me, or about whatever I did. But did he have to look so relieved, when I demanded a divorce? So contemptuous when I said I'd found someone who loved me?

  She pushed aside the thought that Lester rather clearly hadn't actually loved her.

  "Better to beg Tressa than Tian," she muttered. It was getting dark. She should tell that maid to light some candles, or maybe an oil lamp. She yawned and leaned her head back. It had been such a horrible day.

  I don't know how to live on my own. I don't know anything about money, except how to write checks and spend it! How am I going to survive?

  Next thing she knew, the morning sun was in her eyes. She'd slept the night away on this rather tacky divan. She stomped off to find that maid. She wasn't leaving until she'd seen Tressa.

  ***

  There were two maids. Who apparently had nothing better to do than stare at the walls of the basement kitchen.

  It's not natural. They must be horribly traumatized . . . or maybe they're just incredibly stupid.

  "Fix breakfast." Leanna poked around the shelves. At least she has a cold box. "Bacon, eggs and toast."

  She eyed the simpletons, and decided she'd better be more specific. "I will have three strips of bacon, crispy, please. Two eggs. Two slices of toast, buttered."

  They started moving then, getting out a frying pan, still silent.

  Spooked, Leanna started chattering a bit. "And of course, fix yourselves some breakfast. And if there's coffee, brew a pot."

  She couldn't stand it any longer and fled back upstairs. Hungry puppies whining, the box smelly . . . Leanna walked back out of the parlor and decided that a quick search of the house might be prudent.

  For all I know, Tressa could be lying dead in her bed, upstairs.

  Which was enough to make her pause for a long moment with one hand on the newel post, looking up the stairs. Then she straightened her shoulders and walked up.

  Just two bedrooms. A large one with a rumpled bed, chest and wardrobe. No dead bodies. A small bedroom with a work table, and shelves of glass jars. And a continued absence of bodies. She edged closer to the shelves. The bottles were labeled, the contents varied from clear through milky to something like red wine. The labels were mostly names.

  Leanna scanned the shelves. Shrugged. But as she turned to go, the bottle on the table caught her eye. "Leanna J" in script. Red liquid inside.

  Leanna bit her lip. Had Tressa made up something special for her? Well . . .

  She weighed the bottle in her hand for a moment, then pulled the cork and drank half. Shivered. Theft. She looked around. A bottle of red wine, half full, sat to one side. She pulled the cork and carefully refilled the Leanna J bottle. Recorked both bottles and put them back.

  She walked steadily down stairs. I will not be a thief. I . . . will find a job. I will find some way to survive.

  She followed her nose back down the stairs. Breakfast was ready. Just sitting there.

  She shivered. "I'll take my breakfast upstairs. You two eat down here. When you are done, come collect my plate and silverware. Wash everything, bank the fire. Then you may rest and . . . do whatever you want to do."

  She was not fleeing, as she took her meal and hastened upstairs. From the corner of her eye she could see the maids falling on their own food as if famished.

  She sat at the elegant little table in the nook over looking the shabby backyard. Sniffed. Opened the french doors to the back and carried the box of puppies out.

  It improved the ambiance no end. She shut the door on their crying and . . . chopped up the eggs and toast, and took it out to the puppies. She made sure each one got some, and dumped them out of the filthy box. "I'll get you a bowl for water in just a moment."

  She marched back inside and ate her bacon and sipped coffee, watching the clumsy creatures exploring their new home.

  Then she went back downstairs to see about more food for them, and a bowl of water. The maids were doing a credible job of washing up. Leanna relaxed, and complemented them. They aren't really stupid, they just weren't sure about following my orders. She took the bowl of water out to the pups, checked the privy back there . . . nice, a separate bathhouse. She washed her face, used the hairbrush sitting there . . . then braced herself and headed out. First stop, my apartment for clean clothes. Then back to the beauty shop to see if Tressa is there. If I can't find her . . . I'll just have to come back here and wait even longer. Old Gods know those maids and puppies need someone to order them around.

  ***

  After a frustrating day of trying to find Tressa, Leanna found herself back at the shabby little house.

  The cupboard was bare. Well, oatmeal, but . . .

  "What are your names?"

  "Mari, Miss."

  Leanna opened her mouth to correct her, shut it.

  "Jane, Miss." With a bob of a curtsy.

  "Do y
ou two do the marketing? Show me what you do."

  That got them in motion. Taking a sack of coins that was just sitting there, they headed out to the market. It was late, but they selected fruit, vegetables, meat . . .

  "Get enough for three days, and something cheap for those puppies." Leanna shivered as they followed her orders. She finally helped carry everything back to the house, and watched the maids put it all away.

  She sat and watched the maids cook dinner, and had them cook up some scraps in rice for the pups.

  Did some hard thinking while she ate. She fed the pups, gave them more water . . . searched Tressa's little desk.

  She stared at the checkbook for a long time. It's a crime. But . . . those poor maids. I swear they'll starve without someone telling them to eat. And the shop . . . I never thought the people working there had much in the way of brains . . .

  She looked out the window. The shop is shut by now, the staff has gone home. Right?

  She walked downstairs. The maids were staring at the wall. "Girls . . . go to the privy, clean yourselves up and then go to bed. I'll be back in the morning. When you wake up in the morning, bathe, dress yourselves and cook a dozen biscuits."

  They headed for the stairs, and presumably the privy.

  Leanna shuddered and let herself out the front door.

  The beauty shop was still lit up, the door unlocked. The staff sprang into motion as she entered.

  "How may we help you, Madam?"

  Leanna stared at the pretty blonde woman. "If Tressa has not returned, I will take her the money you collected today. Then you should all go home, get a good night's sleep, and come back in the morning." They all looked relieved.

  Leanna swallowed bile. "Do you all have homes?" Nods thank the old gods!

  "Do you need to be paid today? To pay rent?" Blank looks.