by Pam Uphoff
"Mr. Leon, isn't it?"
"Yes. Yellow, right? Old Gods! That witch naming scheme just totally ran amok, didn't it?"
"What's this? Finally a man I don't have to explain it to?"
"Oh, I've been around enough to know such things." He swaggered. "That one I learned yesterday, from General Trick's wife Azure Trumpdaut."
Yellow snickered. "Do come dance with me. If nothing else, we can try to eavesdrop on Inky and Vinz."
Q looked back and spotted Inky dancing by with her Vinz; they both looked fatuously pleased.
Yellow and Mogan waltzed over and nearly bumped them without being noticed.
". . . But I'm a much more proper witch than my sister, and that means I won't ever marry."
Mogan choked. "Old Gods. Miss Henso made me swear to keep him out of trouble. I am dead meat." His feet tangled up and Yellow supported him for a second.
". . . can't expect a security chief to know how to dance . . . " Vinz and Inky swooped off.
Q was snickering as she worked her way back through the crowd and nabbed Garit for the next dance. And with a sigh, watched him go off with another woman for the following dance.
She snagged dances with a few other men, watched Garit hovering over a Lady Tashi. Protective and tender.
I guess I'd better stop taking advantage of the man's state. No matter how much it's going to hurt. I shouldn't have let my emotions get involved . . . or my ego. Dammit.
She stepped out onto the terrace until she was sure she wasn't going to cry in public. It's my own damned fault . . . I need to find some bandits to beat the crap out of.
It was amusing, however, to watch three of Inky's sisters try to pry Inky away from the Vinz she'd been afraid to track down.
Chapter Eleven
Late Spring 1398
Gold Rush Territory
"Well. This is a little awkward, isn't it?" Rior kicked her horse and circled through the brush.
"Why would they take down a corridor? It has to be here." Ibrah waved his men out. "Search, they must have just moved it a bit . . . perhaps someone discovered it."
"We need to check the southern corridor as well." Rior booted the lazy beast into the thin shadow of a scraggly tree. "If it's closed as well, we'll have to consider the deal with the Veronians dead."
"Well, yeah." Ibrah glared at her. "Did you do something? You always preferred the Organtes. Got the hots for those Sea Wolves, do you?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh right, you icicle. You don't put out for anyone."
So far as you know. I really need to find a better Auchel Ibrah. I hate having to have a front man for this.
"The Organtes just want the gold. They have enough border problems of their own, right now. They've taken Allantro, and are getting pressure from the Fascians. But if they take Jyth next, they'll be on the southern border of the kingdom . . . there's potential, there. We should at least keep in touch with them. Even if this corridor problem is temporary."
Ibrah hunched a dismissive shoulder.
After another hour of widening search, they headed south.
To find nothing.
"I have two hundred men who expect to get paid." Auchel scowled around at the brush. "Well, bank robberies are always fun."
Rior nodded. "Better plan on using those corridors I found."
A faint growl. "Stupid assassins, spoiling everything for the rest of us. You can't hardly turn around anymore without running into troops."
"Yes. Perhaps we should start from those ruins in the Southern Divide. One of the corridors goes to Lucky Strike. We can go right back, or go to the Edge from there."
The current Ibrah grinned. "That's the one with the illusion you fell through, right?"
"Right." She smiled thinly and didn't let him see that he'd scored. Yes, very funny. Rior's pratfall. "How many men need the exercise? And shall we go ourselves?"
Glower. "Dutch is getting mouthy, collecting some friends. Maybe he ought to go prove himself. And if he screws up . . . maybe we'll rescue him, and maybe we won't."
Rior nodded. If the most rebellious one gets himself killed, it'll either consolidate the rest behind Auchel or shatter the whole bandit army, which isn't a bad thing. This idiot is getting ambitious and foolish.
"Right. And then, I've been thinking about Long Lake. Two hundred of us can take it." He eyed her. "I could retire before you stab me in the back."
Smart man. She shrugged. "Perhaps we should invite the Organtes along for some fun. If their Sea Wolves can open corridors, we could take the compound, clear out every ounce of gold they've got, and waltz off."
"We don't need them."
"Apart from their ability to make corridors. They've got one that opens just a few miles west of the lake. They'd just need to make a short one from there to Long Lake. And then they could bring in wagons if there aren't enough on hand." Rior looked over at him. "We could all go back to Organtes with them, have some down time, relax. Wait till the fury up here has settled, then return. Unless you decided to retire down there where the Kingdom can't touch you."
"Yeah. All right, that's a good idea. Two good ideas. Let's get back to the camp. Maybe we don't need to dump Dutch yet."
Chapter Twelve
Late Spring 1398
Lucky Strike, Section Eleven, Gold Rush Territory
Deena hated putting little girls in dangerous places. And any way you looked at it, a boom town full of drunken miners was a dangerous place for any sixteen year old girl.
Nighthawk grinned. "Don't worry, Deena. I'll be fine. And we'll be ready to shut down the corridors anytime." She leaned over and pet Barracuda and Pig.
Four witches, eight Hell Hounds. If she got any more watchers, she'd have to ask Lord Hell if she could borrow more dogs. If the local police couldn't keep the young witches safe, the Hell Hounds would. After all, the four towns rarely had more than one guard in the office at a time. Town guard wasn't, yet, an office job.
So, the four towns with the highest volume of gold coming in to be assayed were covered. Lucky Strike, Southern Hell, Gold Mountain and Juit could close their corridors at a moment's notice. Lucky Strike had nine official corridors. Karista, Southern Hell, Fort Gold, Farofo, Havwee, Big Muddy, Blue Sky, Suzzannah, Misery. The last four were fast turning into ghost towns, as the local veins were exhausted and the miners moved on. One of the secret corridors that Q had found had ended in a small barn on My Way.
In a burst of brilliance, the corridors in all the Boom Towns had been placed adjacent to the police (or constable or guard) building, making it easy for the witches. They could stay there safely, and be handy to close the corridors. And the first guy – Guard or miner – that treated them like whores was, she hoped, going to get ripped to shreds.
She picked up Tit's reins and stuck her foot in the stirrup. Yells and a scream of pain echoed down the street.
"Not even dark yet. And they're already at it." The kindly and tolerant head of the local Guards sighed. "Don't look so worried. She'll be everyone's daughter and watched like a hawk.
And above the general riot, "The bank's been robbed!"
Deena swung up on the horse as Nighthawk leaped to her feet.
"Close the corridors!" Deena booted the horse in the direction of the secret corridors.
Deena cut down a side street for a block and over again. Spotted racing horses and a small barn with the door wide open.
I may not be able to make corridors, but I know how to lock them . . .
She beat them there by half a stride, and spotted the square of desert in the middle of the back wall and threw a twist at it to lock the corridor. She hauled on the reins and tried to get out of the way as the first bandit's horse hit the wall with killing speed. The second horse was far enough behind to throw up its head and skid into the limp body of the first, half turning and completing the demolition of the back wall as it rolled. The third horse leaped the mess and knocked his rider off. Deena drew her sword and stabbed t
he nearest man, then had a frantic few seconds, parrying blades coming her way as a dozen men and horses tried to crowd into what was no longer an escape route. Then Tit leaped and stumbled awkwardly out the back wall and Deena rolled off, sword over her head pointing away, and came back to her feet. Half of the bank robbers seemed to be trying to escape, and half wanted to kill her and then escape. She saw the crossbows coming around and jumped to the shoulder of the nearest horse, stabbing upward. The two riders with the crossbows rode around to get a better target. Shield dammit! She barely registered the black and white streak until it flew through the air and hit a bowman, paws scrambling to find traction for another lunge that got the teeth to the neck. Then Pig came tearing out of the barn. From downed horse to horse's croup to paws on shoulders and teeth in the face that was turning to look. Deena dodged charging horses, inflicting damage as she could, then the rest were thundering away. Back into town. Going for the public corridors.
She grabbed Tit and followed, the hounds flying past her. There was a riot at the corridors, where Nighthawk had one robber down and the dogs and townsmen were after the rest with clubs.
"There's at least five more." Deena yelled. "Did anyone see which way they went?"
"Straight at us." Easterly's broad farmer's drawl came from behind her.
She turned to find her fellows leading horses burdened with bodies, some squirming.
"We want some of them alive for questioning." He raised his voice. "You can hang them after t'judge has seen them."
"There's a bunch more that need to be checked, back thata way." Deena waved, wincing suddenly. "Small barn, north side of My Way, two blocks east of Main Street.
Easterly sent the guards, with Peter and Jeff, and hauled her into the light for a closer look. "Wine for you, girl. Nighthawk?"
"I'm fine." Actually she was green and shivering, and Deena slung her uninjured arm around her.
"That was your first real fight, wasn't it?"
"I killed him Deena. I didn't even think about it, it was like it was just sparring with Dad, except." She sniveled into Deena's side for a bit, then tried to get professional.
The guard captain walked in respectfully and asked if they could open the corridors, please? Nighthawk jumped up to do it, the hounds trailing her. Deena walked out.
"Nine all by yourself, Deena? Xen's going to be jealous." Jeff called as he led in a string of horses loaded with bodies. And bullion.
Within a few minutes Garit arrived. "Trust you lot to do my work for me. Tanner's on the way, and the judge has been notified that he'll have a capital case for the morrow. The prosecutors will be here quickly."
The bank robbers were sorted out, dead, injured, and badly injured. Deena and the badly injured got wine. The five slightly injured sat, stiffening and miserable as the cost of getting caught started sinking in. The other six were kept guarded as they recovered. The thirteen bodies were laid out for identification.
Will Michaelson was the first lawyer of any sort through the corridor. He read the witnesses reports, the guards reports and then talked to the witnesses, walked them along the lines of the dead and captured so they could say which man took which role in the robbery.
Deena gathered that her two crossbow men had stayed on their horses, on the road while the rest went inside the bank. The first man to hit the end of the barn had been the well dressed first man in the door. His neck was broken. More lawyers came. Some spoke to the live robbers, others joined Will in preparing the prosecution.
Deena parked herself near the still pale Nighthawk, and snoozed until the judge arrived.
She spoke briefly, mentioning that others of the King's task force had been tracking down unofficial corridors, so that she had known the gang might head for the barn on My Way.
Quicksilver spoke as to the natures of the corridors (everyone's eyes glazed as she got to 'low powered dimensional phenomena confined to a single membrane of the multiverse') and noted in plain language that they could be locked, moved or destroyed altogether. "They are quite easy to make, if one has the ability."
At Will Michaelson's suggestion, the prosecutor requested, and the court approved limited leniency for two men in exchange for information. The two men told their life stories, including a few rendezvous points and delivery points and were taken off to Fort Gold to be imprisoned. The others were hung before sunset.
Garit scowled at the prison bound pair. "I hope their information is worth leaving them alive. I didn't recognize any of these guys. I don't think this is the Gold Gang, just . . . regular bandits. And more corridors to try to find and close. corridors to Organtes."
Deena glanced south. "Some of the Sea Wolves must still be there. At least one of them must have figured out how to make corridors."
Garit nodded. "Magic's everywhere, these days. I don't know whether to be glad so much of it is under the control of governments or wish it was free of politics and national ambitions."
"Even ours?"
He hesitated. I could do anything . . .
"I'm . . . not sure."
Chapter Thirteen
Summer 1398
Long Lake, Section 21, Southern Divide Territory
Vinz watched as Inky and Yellow ran hands over walls, all over the Long Lake compound. Inky running her hands over . . . He firmly shut down his imagination.
Of course, watching Mogan watch Yellow was also fun. Somehow the stacked and sexy witch of the Karista ball had squeezed herself back into uniform before coming to ask if she could search for corridors in any facility that might be especially tempting.
Mogan had immediately volunteered to escort her to every remote and private spot he could think of, or failing that, the central gathering point for the most productive gold mines in the territory. The dredges all dropped their hauls here, and the bank sands were being scoured. Plus a lot of independent miners sold their gold here, and skipped the extra twenty miles into Southern Hell. Not to mention skipping the temptation to drink or whore away all the money. The Bank of the West had an office inside the compound. If they weren't careful, it was going to turn into a town.
Inky had come by as they were leaving, and joined the corridor hunt. After dropping off her end of a corridor to the Middle of Nowhere. Right there outside his house. So he could visit anytime. He squashed his imagination again and watched Mogan watching Yellow. It figured that the man who'd watched his back for the last ten years would only fall for a woman in the most elite military around. And for a man who'd watched his back for ten years, he didn't know a hell of a lot about Mogan. Such as how old he was. He'd been just as bald, just as weathered and just as quietly competent then as now.
"So, you think we should hunt down some of this Eternal Youth elixir? Maybe you could even grow some hair."
"Hair's overrated. But you may need something, to keep up with Inky."
Vinz shook his head. "And here I thought my icon, the misogynist himself, was teetering on the brink of noticing a woman."
That just got a derisive snort.
Vinz leaned back against the wall and smugly recalled his reception at 'the island'. The home of Lord Hell and Lady Trump. Lord Hell had been properly disapproving of a man who was so obviously drooling over his daughter.
But Kyber, spelled Kupier for some reason, had actually recognized him when he came back the next day. Smart little girl. Almost seven years old, now.
Imbrium and Juno had treated him like most of the other familiar adults, and had played the game he'd brought them, and shown him their favorites.
Hmph. Witches might not marry, but this one was definitely going to have a pet.
And Mogan could deny all he wanted, but his eyes were fastened on Yellow.
"So, you can feel these corridors, no matter how good the illusion?" Vinz asked.
Yellow snickered. "Not feel. Fall through. Actual physical shields that could take being leaned on are nearly impossible to remote source. Even if they're locked I ought to feel something when I'm in actual
contact."
Inky shook her head. "You can lock corridors, but it's still pretty obvious. We probably don't even have to touch them. I'm not sure about gates.
"Meaning the magician has to be near." Mogan shoved on the wall.
"Yep, and with shields, that near means practically touching." She thought a moment. "In fact I've never seen Q or Xen do a shield out of contact, so I'm not going to believe a Veronan or Auralian can do it until I see it."
"Q is pretty impressive. I haven't seen the Black Prince do anything, though." Vinz pushed a bit.
"Ooo! Don't call him that. It's worse than the God of Spies. Don't call him that either." Yellow shook a finger at Vinz. "Wait till you see Xen in action before you dare get sarcastic."
Morgan snorted "God of Spies? Look, I have a hard enough time just accepting the Old Gods. That Archetype theory is an interesting idea to chew on. New gods? Nope. Not gonna believe it." But for just a second he had a wistful expression on his weathered face.
Vinz shifted uneasily. Magic. I don't believe in magic. Mostly . . . "So you are checking to see if someone could sneak right into the offices?"
Yellow smirked. "Did you get the memo about all the corridors at the Edge of the World and Two Trees? There was one that opened inside their bank vault."
Mogan looked at her in consternation. "So we need you to check the inside of the vault too?"
"Yep. Although one suspects you would have noticed gold disappearing."
"Oh yes. We have good accountants."
Yellow stepped away from the building. "My head hurts. Quitting time."
"What, mere pain can pull you off the trail?" Mogan looked surprised.
"Yep. When the magic is over-stretched, I could start missing things. Point me at some food, how about you, Inky?"
"I'm done. We can start a new room tomorrow."
Vinz looked around for a minion. "C'mon, I'll send someone for . . . Dan! Dinner for four, my room." He lowered his voice again. "Err, sorry, got that in the wrong order, didn't I? Dinner at my place, Ladies?"
