by TR Cameron
Tanyith uttered a sigh. “I think I hate you.”
Cali laughed. “No, you love me. Everyone does. I’ll have to introduce you to Dasante sometime. He’ll explain it.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Friend who is a boy, sure.”
He shook his head. “You never quit, do you?”
She nodded. “That’s very true. I don’t like it when bullies win. And that woman? She’s a bully.”
He sighed. “So, I’ll at least look into it and see if I can find out what the hell her ultimate game is. The question is, do you want to continue? You could walk away now. While you wouldn’t get whatever answer you’re seeking, you’d be able to stay above all this nonsense.”
“Why don’t we both walk, then?”
“I can’t because I need to know. I can’t move on without the answer. I’ve spent days agonizing over it but without closure, I’ll always be looking over my shoulder. It might have been personal and if it was, I’m still in danger.”
Cali shrugged. “And I need to know why that jerkwad was watching me. She said it’s because of who I am but I’m basically nobody. So, if someone thinks I’m someone I can’t resist asking them why.”
“You could probably find that information more safely.”
“What would be the fun in that?”
His face registered confusion for a moment before he shook his head. “We’re quite a pair, you and I.”
“I told you, you’re too old for me.”
He looked like he would say something, then laughed. “If only your brain was as smart as your mouth, we might actually get somewhere.”
She pointed her fork at him and spoke encouragingly. “Good one. Keep practicing. We’ll make a funny person out of you yet. Maybe then, you’ll be able to get a date with someone your own age. What are you, like, seventy? There’s probably a Tindr for the elderly by now.”
Tanyith stared at the ceiling with an expression she’d seen before on both Zeb’s and Emalia’s faces, and she grinned. You’re gonna have to put in some serious practice before you’re ready to word fight with me, Tee.
Chapter Twenty
Cali stifled a yawn as she rubbed the damp rag over a particularly resistant spot on the training mat. Her alarm had woken her up earlier than she would have preferred in order to have time to hang out with Fyre and still make it to the dojo early enough to get ready for the Saturday morning class. Worse, Dasante had apparently included a polka track on her random wake-up app. When she’d arrived, Sensei Ikehara had already been at the table he used as a desk in the front area when he wanted to be available for walk-ins. I wonder if he has a secret Draksa that gets him up in the wee hours of the morning with demands for constant attention, too.
Her ability to communicate with the dragon was improving, as near as she could tell. He’d appeared capable of understanding her from the start. It was the other direction that caused issues. Still, it seemed as if she was getting things quicker. He still laughed at her more or less constantly, but it felt like progress.
She hadn’t been able to clear her mind as effectively as usual, though. Even her old standby—imagining Mister Miyagi telling her to “wax on, wax off”—didn’t get the job done. So many unknowns existed after the previous night’s adventure at The Shark. She wasn’t a fan of mysteries that involved her or those she loved, and these did both.
Frustrated, she pushed the cloth harder against the mat and let a little tension leak out. There are too many damn puzzles. Every time I solve one, there’s another waiting. Tanyith’s talk of not being able to move on until he found closure resonated deep inside her. Even though she had a plan for her life and was making good progress toward achieving it, each advance sometimes felt like a slog through quicksand determined to trap her in the present and never release her. Fortunately, most of the time, her head was on straight.
But not today. She blew a hair that had escaped her elastic out of her face and decided the part of the mat she’d been working on was as clean as it would get. The bell over the front door jangled as she lurched into a somersault and rose to her feet. Three men in suits stepped inside the small lobby, which was separated from the training area by a low wall with a gate in it. Ikehara stood but didn’t offer his normal greeting. Instead, he stepped around the table. The first man turned to address him, but she couldn’t make out the words.
The other two men stood a few steps away, one close to the front door and one closer to the mat. To her eyes, it looked like a defensive arrangement—two bodyguards watching over potential avenues of danger. She frowned and knelt to rub at an imaginary stain on the mat. In the moment that her back was to them, she whispered a spell, happy to note that only a couple of symbols on her arms appeared and faded quickly.
The magic was something she’d used often. Emalia had described it as creating a tunnel by shaping the air, which had proven a useful visualization. Now, that cylinder connected her ear to a position a foot away from the conversation happening between her teacher and the person who she suspected was a representative of the Zatoras. Detective Barton was right. There’s no staying out of this mess, no matter how hard I try. How hard anyone tries.
Ikehara said, “I’ve told others from your organization this before, and I will tell you now. I am not interested in what you are offering.”
The other man’s tone sounded as if he was speaking to a particularly stupid child. That won’t win him points with Sensei. “Perhaps you don’t understand. Maybe you’re not from around here. Let me make it clear. Unless you join our mutual protection circle, you’ll find yourself defenseless when the Lants come for you. Now, that’s not something you want, is it?”
She cringed at the use of the ethnic slur for Atlanteans. It wasn’t something she heard often and never from anyone who knew her background. Her teacher replied, “I do not fear them. I do not fear you. I wish only to be left alone to run my business and instruct my students without interference.”
The man in the suit laughed. “Well, of course you do. But that’s not how things work nowadays. You have to choose a side or you’ll find yourself crushed by circumstances. Our side has kept the peace for a long time in this town, not like those newcomers. We offer stability at a reasonable price.”
Ikehara’s voice was calm but firm. “Thank you, no.”
The gangster sighed. “That’s a very bad decision on your part. Very bad. I’ll give you this one chance to reconsider at a ten percent increase to the cost for the insult.”
“I am not with them. I am not with you. I am with myself. Your conflict does not interest me.”
“The ant has no interest in the boot that squashes them, either. That doesn’t make them any less dead.”
She’d never heard her teacher exasperated before. It was a weary sound rather than an aggressive one—like he was frustrated over not being able to express himself in a way they could understand. She laughed inwardly. Smack ʼem with a bokken a few times. They’ll get the idea. The mental picture of the men fleeing from a bamboo sword put a grin on her face. Ikehara said calmly but forcefully, “This discussion is ended. The answer is no. Please leave. If I see you or any of your people again, I’ll contact the police.”
The three unwelcome men in suits laughed. “Oh, I’m certain that will help. We own the police, and the ones we don’t, the Lants do. Good luck, ant. You’ll need it.”
In a movie, it would be the time when the gangsters would break things before leaving. She lowered her head and turned to watch in case they decided to attack her teacher. The minimalist trappings of the dojo denied them the first option, and they were apparently smart enough to avoid the second. They departed with more threats that Ikehara answered with nods and silence.
She let the spell fade and went back to her cleaning. When she’d encountered the gang by following the watcher, the whole thing had seemed like a low-stakes game. Now, she understood. It wasn’t a game and the risks were much higher than they’d initially appeared. Her plans
to spend the afternoon on schoolwork would have to wait. She needed to warn everyone she knew that the reality they’d grown accustomed to was no longer real.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tanyith waited at a table on the patio at Cafe du Monde, sipped his coffee, and licked the sugar left by the beignets from his fingertips. He’d chosen the location on a whim and hadn’t considered the reactions of others to the arrival of his guest.
She seemed well aware of how she affected them, though, and a smile grew on her face as her passage through the crowd toward him inspired whispers and involuntary flinches. Even in a metropolis like New Orleans, Drow were scarce. Nylotte’s dark features and long ivory hair were immediately shocking, and the confidence in her stride seemed threatening to those who were easily intimidated. She wore black boots and black leather pants, with a t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and advertised a Nine Inch Nails tour from a decade before.
He grinned as she joined him at the table. “Did you choose that specifically?”
The woman nodded. “It seemed appropriate. Have you seen Reznor around? Or Anne Rice? That’s about my entire knowledge of this town, by the way.”
“I don’t run in the same crowds as famous authors and rock and roll stars, I’m afraid.” He shook his head and looked toward the interior where the waitstaff were. “Coffee? Beignets?”
“No thanks. There are tasks awaiting me. What’s so important that you believed it worth my time to come down here?”
“I need information, and all my contacts are either missing or compromised.” He didn’t think it was a good idea to get into the details of the gang situation. “So I thought you would be my best option. I don’t want to have to sacrifice an organ to Chadrousse or anything, though.”
She laughed, an unexpectedly happy sound given her overall demeanor. “Excellent, you do listen. I had my doubts.”
He plastered a small grin on his face and pushed down the irritation that rose at her tone. You need her. Be nice. “Specifically, I need to know what’s going on with New Atlantis.”
That inspired a frown as she considered his words. “Interesting. I’ve had occasion to do some research on Atlanteans as part of assisting a student of mine. What’s your interest beyond the obvious?”
Tanyith sighed. At some level, he’d hoped to get the information from her without having to share, but that had undeniably been a pipe dream from the start. The Dark Elf wasn’t as obviously mercenary as the other man who’d helped to break him out, but that didn’t mean she was uninterested in expanding her own knowledge and influence. “A gang of Atlanteans is throwing its weight around here. I used to be a part of it back when it didn’t suck but now, it’s full of scumbags. I’m wondering if there’s an ongoing connection to the homeland.”
Nylotte leaned back in her chair and looked around. A casual wave of her arm caused the surrounding sounds to grow softer. “It might be good to not be overheard talking about this. So, let’s start with what you already know.”
“New Atlantis is East of Florida and North of Haiti, in a deep trench.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure where the original city was. Having never been to either, I can’t say much about them. But there are more Atlantean immigrants in New Orleans than anywhere else.”
She nodded. “And the gang?”
“It began as a way for those already here to help the newcomers. When I was part of it, we were non-violent and generally law-abiding, aside from a little gaming and some drinking.”
“Anything else?”
“It’s changed since then. And although there was some push for the kind of stuff they’re doing now during my time, it seems like it transformed really quickly. The current leader wasn’t even part of the group back then.”
The Drow drummed her fingers on the table and leaned forward. “Okay. This might be connected to a larger picture. Over the last year or so, a group of power-grabbers on Oriceran have traded on the name of Rhazdon.”
Tanyith’s eyes widened. Everyone in the magical community was aware of the half-Atlantean rebel who had tried to seize power over the other planet decades before. To hear him mentioned again out of the blue was shocking. “I thought he was dead.”
Nylotte chuckled and shook her head. “First, Rhazdon is a she. Second, I think she is, this time. But really, who the hell knows with that one?”
“Okay. But how does that have anything to do with this?”
She made a gesture of uncertainty. “The group attracted a significant following. Maybe word got back to New Atlantis and someone decided they could capitalize on it.”
“So what you’re saying is that the gang’s taking its orders from there?”
“That might be too cause-and-effect. If anything, perhaps they’re getting support—people, treasure, strategic advice. Does that sound plausible with what you’ve seen?”
He ran the clues he’d already discovered through that filter. Money from outside would explain how they’ve been able to expand so rapidly. The numbers could come from legitimate immigrants or ones sent for that purpose. There’s no way to tell. But the last one seems likely. The boss didn’t seem all that bright and could be a figurehead. And someone from the homeland would have both the broad view and the power to have me locked up in Trevilsom. It sounds right.
Tanyith nodded. “That lines up reasonably well. It would explain a lot.”
“So, what will you do about it all?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it? I guess the same thing I’ve planned all along, plus some extra. Find out who sent me away and deliver a proper thank you for my involuntary vacation. Learn how to block these jerks from taking over the city while also trying to make sure a gang war doesn’t break out. Then I can focus on chipping away at the gang members and maybe get the group back to the way it used to be.”
She raised an eyebrow. “With you in charge?”
He grinned. “Why not? I’m probably as useful a choice as anyone. But perhaps a group of leaders, instead of a single leader, would keep things on the right track better.”
The Drow lowered her chin in acknowledgment. “That’s a good plan. Most people who want power likely shouldn’t be allowed to have it.”
He could tell she was getting impatient with the discussion by the way her legs bounced. “One more thing before you go, if you don’t mind. Do you have any idea who’s in charge of New Atlantis?”
Her white hair swished as she shook her head. “I know it’s been a hereditary monarchy at times and a republic at others. What it is now, I have no idea.”
Tanyith growled his frustration. “Damn. It’s not like we can simply wander past and find out, either.”
Nylotte laughed as she rose. “First, there’s no we here, only you. But you mentioned immigrants. Surely there are still some arriving now and again. It could be that you simply need to get to them before the gang does.” She walked away and vanished quickly from sight as she headed down Decatur.
He shook his head at his own stupidity. Of course that’s what I should do. At some point, my brain will start to work again and then, this town will be in trouble.
A shock of red hair across the street caught his attention and he stood hastily. He earned himself several outraged honks from those driving past when he darted across the road and he grinned when he confirmed it was Cali. She was playing a game of balloon volleyball in slow motion with a tall, dark-skinned man who looked to be about her age. A top hat rested on the ground in front of them, and he joined the small crowd of observers.
It didn’t take long to conclude she used magic to control the flight of the balloon, which floated away from them. The crowd laughed. It was slapstick at half speed, and he found himself chuckling as well. When they finished, she turned and pronounced, “The amazing Dasante will return after a short break to astound you with feats of close-up magic and sleight of hand. Don’t miss this once in a lifetime opportunity to see the ancient art of prestidigitation performed before your very eyes.”
She smiled in recognition as he threw a dollar into the hat. Her greeting sounded happy as well. “Hey.”
He laughed. Apparently, this is a running gag now. “Hey yourself. This is how you spend your free time?”
“Some of it.”
“Nice control on the balloon.”
“Always practicing, you know?” She grinned. “It’s fun to get paid to improve your skills.” She stepped closer. “Any fallout from the other night?”
Tanyith shook his head. “No, all good.”
Cali’s happy tone turned to a growl. “The Zatoras came to my teacher’s dojo today and tried to shake him down. He kicked them out, of course.”
That brought a scowl to his face. “They’re really being aggressive. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t bode well for things to come.”
“Which is why we need to get to the bottom of this garbage and fast. Did you discover anything about the guns?”
He nodded. “They are definitely in the possession of the boss of the Zatoras. Anything we do will put us in hot water with them.”
“Damn it to hell. These people suck.”
“Right?” He chuckled. “We’ll think of something. We still have four days before her deadline.”
The man who’d busked with Cali slid up and stuck his hand out. “Dasante.”
Tanyith gripped it and released it. “Tanyith.”
“How do you know Cal?”
He laughed. “Oh, from around. Anyway, I need to head out. I hope you both have a profitable afternoon.” He waved and wandered away, his brain ticking. How do I turn this play back on the gang? There has to be a way.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cali pulled the laces of her sneakers tight and groaned as she rose from the ground. She glared at Fyre in his boxer disguise. “You owe me for this.” The truth was that she’d come to really enjoy their early morning walks, which had lately become runs through the pre-dawn haze as she worked to keep up with him.
