Vibrations: Harmonic Magic Book 1

by P. E. Padilla

  One building in view was different than the others in the cluster. It was made of stone fitted together and held with dark gray mortar. The owner of the building, the provisioner, stood on the porch of the store, hands on hips, looking to the South. His prodigious belly seemed to be pointing in that direction as well.

  Soon, Ix noticed that others began to look toward the South. She smiled inside, though kept her face carefully neutral on the outside. The ones she was waiting for were finally arriving, unless she missed her guess. She had been waiting patiently for two days. All predators knew the value of patient waiting. Hers was about to pay off.

  The assassin was in disguise, of course. She had dyed her hair brown, much lighter than her normal black hair, and had applied makeup to draw attention from her tilted eyes to her lips, causing her to look more like rest of the people in the tavern. She almost looked like she belonged here. Almost.

  There was a general commotion amongst the villagers. Traders passed through relatively frequently, but strangers were still something to generate excitement. Ix saw the few village children trailing after the strangers, who were heading toward the store’s blue door. The provisioner puffed up his chest and stood straight in front of his store, greeting the newcomers. He almost succeeded at drawing in that protruding belly of his for a moment, but gravity proved to be too great an adversary, and it jiggled back into place.

  Ix could not see the strangers because of the villagers surrounding them, but she didn’t need to. They would come to her soon enough. There was only one place to rent a room or to buy a drink in the village, and that was right where she was sitting. She could be patient for a few minutes more.

  When the people finally entered, Ix inspected them out of the corner of her eye while she took a long drink of her ale. The tall, lanky old man with bushy eyebrows was obviously this Dr. Walt she had heard about. With him were three others.

  One was a fit-looking young man carrying a staff. Was that porzul wood? Now that was an interesting thing. How did he come by it? Did he even know what it was? His blond-capped head swiveled back and forth, looking at everything. When his blue eyes passed over her, she saw them stop momentarily. That would be him acting like a man. With her current disguise, she would be beautiful to him. His eyes lingered for a moment, and then continued on.

  The woman with him—he knew she was a woman by how she moved even though her clothing didn’t give it away—had a mask on that covered her whole head. Strange, that. More importantly, she moved with such grace and dexterity that she couldn’t have hidden the fact she was a warrior. If her movements were any indication, she was an accomplished one. So, this must be the one who defeated the Collectors.

  Then she saw the other man. He was older, but not frail at all. He moved with almost as much grace as the woman, but his robes told her all she needed to know. If he was truly a Zouy monk, she could understand how such a large force of Collectors were killed by only two. As she lowered her cup of ale, her eyes met his briefly. And her heart went cold.

  His face did not change at all, his body language did not alter one bit. But there was something there. She felt like she was revealed completely in his eyes. Did he know her? “When you feel as if you have been recognized, there is nothing to do but continue the charade or to escape immediately” her old master had told her. She would maintain her role, hoping she was just overreacting to the man.

  The one called Dr. Walt talked to the tavern keeper for a moment and then scanned the room for a place to sit. Ix had planned on this and had taken the largest table in the room. She smiled, waved to the old man, and called to him. “Please, sir, sit with me. It appears my table is the only one with room for all four of you. I am recently from the north and would appreciate any news of the South. You came from that direction, did you not?”

  The four came and sat down at the table. The woman looked her over from beside her, to her left, while the old man smiled and thanked her. The monk sat at the end of the table to Ix’s right, with Dr. Walt directly in front of her and the young man next to him.

  She smiled at them. “I am Cissa. I’ve been here for a few days, waiting for my cousin. We will be looking at the surrounding areas, possibly to find a nice piece of land to start a farm for our family. Are you just passing through?”

  Dr. Walt answered: “Yes, yes, that’s right. We’re just on our way up north. Rindu here is from Ikalau village, near Kokitura Mountain, and we are heading toward there. What news have you of the North?”

  Ix took another sip of her ale. “There is unrest. That’s the reason my family wants to move. There are bandits and forces of armed men roaming the North. There has not been much aggression against cities or towns yet, but we feel it coming, so it would be better to be here in the South. And how are things further south?”

  Rindu looked Ix in the eyes and answered: “There are groups of men following the Gray Man that are causing trouble. They pillage and enslave at will. Sometimes they kill indiscriminately. Do you know of these bands, these ‘Collectors?’”

  Maintaining eye contact while lying was something she had worked hard to perfect. She looked directly into Dr. Walt’s eyes, while wearing a slightly confused yet slightly disturbed expression. “I have heard of such groups, in the North. I didn’t know they were so far south. Perhaps it is not the best idea to move my family here, after all. That is a valuable piece of information. Thank you.” The monk’s eyes showed nothing. She consciously slowed her heart, which threatened to beat out of her chest. Finally, he looked away as the tavern keeper brought drinks for the others.

  Ix had planned on trying to insinuate herself into the party in order to take advantage of surprise, but she realized that she must change her tactics. With the Zouy, she would never be able to do it. She would have to use her contingency plan. “I’m afraid I must retire to my room. Will you be staying here tonight, resting to continue on your journey tomorrow? Perhaps we will have an opportunity to talk again.”

  Dr. Walt opened his mouth, but the monk answered before the older man was able to utter a word. “No. We must get supplies and then leave. I am in a hurry to get back to my home.”

  “I see.” Ix answered. “Very well, then, I wish you a good journey. Perhaps we will see each other again in passing.” With that, she drained the last of her ale and walked through the door to the narrow hallway and her rented room.

  Ix entered her room, latched the door, and then climbed out of her window. She had things to do and she had better do them quickly.

  25

  Sam watched Rindu watch the woman as she left. She seemed confident and comfortable, but something about her seemed just a bit off. “Rindu, what’s wrong?” he asked the Zouy.

  Shifting his gaze to Sam, he calmly asked: “What do you mean, Sam?”

  “Well, you seemed troubled by that woman, or you recognized her. She gives me a strange vibe. Is it the same with you?”

  “Vibe? What is ‘vibe?’”

  Sam realized he was mixing his Kasmali with English. There was no direct translation for the slang word “vibe.” Sam shrugged. “You know, something seems off about her, something seems just a little wrong. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  “By ‘vibe,’ do you mean ‘vibration?’” Rindu asked.

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I was just using it as a figure of speech, but now that you mention it, maybe that’s it. Her vibration was strange.”

  “Very good, Sam. Yes, I did sense something not quite right with her vibration. She is not what she seems. I think maybe she is a spy for the Gray Man. I had not expected them to follow us so quickly, but maybe they have birds to carry messages. I think we should leave.”

  Everyone agreed, so after finishing their drinks and stopping at the store to pick up their provisions, they were on their way. Carrying the supplies they purchased was difficult for the mile they had to haul them, until they arrived back at the temporary camp where they had left Skitter and the rakkeben. Once the loa
ds were secured on the wolves, they started off at a slow pace. Because it was almost nightfall, the party circled around the village, went a few miles north, and then stopped to set up camp.

  It was not long after they had settled down into their own tents that they heard the men shuffling and trying, unsuccessfully, to be quiet while they surrounded the cluster of tents. Sam was already dressed and waiting, being tipped off by Skitter, who was curled up in the hollow of a fallen tree. He didn’t need the hapaki’s warning, though. Rindu had told them they would be attacked tonight and had directed each of them to wait in their tents, with no lights, giving the impression that they were asleep.

  Surprisingly, one of the men shouted: “Ok, all you in the tents, come on out. We have you surrounded. Don’t make things get violent, now. We’re just gonna talk to ya. What happens after that will be your own decision.”

  Emerging from his tent, holding his staff, Sam saw Rindu, then Nalia, then Dr. Walt doing the same. They had sent the rakkeben out to hunt for their own dinners, so the wolves were not near, though Sam did not doubt that should they call for their bonded companions, they would appear quickly. Dr. Walt began to walk toward the men, who were clustered haphazardly in front of the four party members. Rindu put a hand up and stepped in front of Dr. Walt, not letting him go any further.

  With an exasperated sigh, Dr. Walt spoke from where he stood. “What are we to talk about? Have you come to attack us? To rob us?”

  The leader, a big man with a squashed-in face covered by a mop of unruly brown hair, stepped forward one step. “Well, now, that all depends on you. We’re not here to rob you. We’re decent folk, not bandits. We just aim to protect our families from the likes of evildoers and trouble makers.”

  Sam recognized several of the men in the group in front of him from Raihar. In fact, he saw the tavern keeper, trying to hide himself in the rear of the group. Sam’s eyes met his, and the man quickly looked down towards his feet. These men weren’t bad, he thought, they were just confused. Or ill-informed.

  “You see, we’ve been told that you are a group of spies for that Gray Man and that you’ll come back with more men and take control of our village. The pattern is normal enough. We hear all the time about towns and villages swallowed up by groups of Gray Man minions. At least, the lucky ones are swallowed up. Those who are useless except as a lesson are slaughtered or taken as slaves.” The men around him murmured their agreement. Two or three even shook the makeshift weapons they carried: rakes, axes, or simple cudgels.

  “Like I say, we’re just simple folk,” the man continued, “just wanting to mind our own business and let others mind theirs. But when we need to, we can stand up and be men, when there’s no other choice.” He looked around at his companions, and then back at the four standing in front of him. “I’m afraid we can’t let you go back and bring word to your master. We can’t let you go and bring back men to harm our village. Just come back to town with us now and we’ll keep you secure until we can figure out what to do with ya.”

  Dr. Walt wrung his hands. “I’m afraid that is not possible, my good man. You see, we are on a mission of the utmost urgency, but you seem to have misunderstood us. We are not followers of the Gray Man. In fact, quite the opposite. We oppose the Gray Man.”

  “She told us you would say that. Of course, faced with all these men, you would try to slither your way out of things.”

  “She?” Dr. Walt asked. “Who is ‘she?’”

  The big man clenched his jaw. “Don’t you worry about who is who. We came all respectable like, not attacking you in your sleep like she suggested. We wanted to give you a chance to avoid some bruises. Now just come along quietly and no one gets hurt.”

  Dr. Walt sighed loudly again. As he opened his mouth to speak, Rindu raised his hand again and spoke softly. “You men should go back to your homes. You do not know who you are talking to, do not know the impossibility of your task. Take your own advice, and go home quietly so that we do not have to cause you harm. Please, leave.”

  Sam watched as the big man’s face twisted with his effort at controlling his anger. Looking around, Sam saw the men in the mob tense and clutch their weapons more firmly. He knew enough to know that violence would erupt any second. Frantically trying to figure out how to defuse the situation, he held up his hand and cleared his throat.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but what was your name? I’m Sam. I’m sure that we can discuss this like reasonable adults.”

  “My name’s not important. What’s important is that you come with us.” Distracted, the villagers relaxed just a hair.

  “You tell ‘em, Malcolm!” one of the villagers shouted. He received a glare from the big man for his trouble.

  “Malcolm, is it?” Sam continued. “I’m assuming that the ‘she’ you mentioned is that small, brown haired woman with the exotic look that we spoke to in the tavern yesterday.”

  Malcolm’s face lost all emotion, his dark eyes showing surprise. “This is your last chance. Come with us or we will drag you back to the village, conscious or not.”

  “The reason I ask,” Sam said in a rush, “is that she herself is a stranger. Why believe her over us? She could just be trying to harm us for some reason.” One or two of the men got thoughtful looks on their faces. Sam was hopeful that he could bring them around.

  Counting quickly, Sam got to twenty-three. Perhaps there were more, but there were at least that many. If they attacked, many would be hurt, though Sam doubted that any in his party would be. “Please, just consider what I say. There is no reason we can’t just discuss this and come to a resolution.”

  “You have a funny accent,” Malcolm said to Sam. “I think you are the outsider. I think what she told us was true. Enough talk. Come with us now, or be taken.”

  For just a moment, the four party members looked at the mob and the mob looked at the party. Then, one of the men to the right of where the party members were gathered yelled something unintelligible and rushed forward to hit Rindu with a spiked pole.

  Rindu stood relaxed as the man charged him. At the last moment, he shifted his body just slightly, just enough that the man’s weapon passed him, the wind of its passing rippling Rindu’s clothes. Sam couldn’t even be sure that the Zouy moved his hand, but suddenly the man attacking him dropped to the ground, unconscious. He caught the pole before it hit the ground, spun it smoothly, and drove it deep into the soil.

  The other men stared slack-jawed for just a moment, and then everything devolved into chaos, all the men screaming and attacking whoever was closest. Sam saw Rindu push Dr. Walt back towards the tents before being attacked by several of the men.

  Sam got only a glimpse of Rindu and Nalia begin their dance, hearing Rindu shout: “Do not kill them if you can help it” before his attention was taken by the three men attacking him.

  At first, Sam felt as if he was frozen, not knowing what to do. The men were charging him, meaning to harm him, but this was not like sparring at all. This was real. He could die. Eyes growing wide, he saw the men coming at him as if he was standing outside his body and watching from afar.

  Sam! Skitter screamed in his mind. Do something! He saw a blur as the hapaki launched himself onto the back of one of the men, scratching and clawing at him. The man dropped his weapon and started trying to tear the hapaki off.

  Sam shook his head and forced his mind to focus. Skitter was risking himself for Sam, risking his very life. Sam had to do something.

  The two other men were almost to him, but he went toward the man Skitter was clinging to. With a savage poking motion, he struck the man’s face with the end of his staff, hearing a cracking noise as his nose broke. Jump off! he sent to Skitter and saw the furry body leap off and scuttle into the undergrowth. Thank you! Sam sent after his friend. I’ll take it from here.

  The man with the broken nose was wiping the tears from his eyes and the blood from his face with one hand while picking up his dropped weapon with the other. The other two men had gotten to Sam
and were winding up to strike him, one of them with a short club and the other with a long-handled axe.

  Sam ducked under the club and struck the man’s shin with his staff. Swirling toward the man with the axe, he blocked the two-handed swing, just below the axe head and kicked at the man’s midsection, bending him over. He was just able to sidestep a lunge from the broken-nosed man with the spiked end of his staff. Twirling the staff in a short circle, he smacked the other man’s weapon away and stepped back, preparing for the next round of attacks.

  When a fourth man, this one with a wicked looking machete, joined the other three as they were recovering to attack again, Sam knew his skills with a long staff were not up to the challenge. Instead, instantly calling up his rohw as he had been practicing, he separated the staff into two halves mid-swing.

  He surprised the man with the machete when he blocked the swing with his left stick. The blade made a metallic clang on the stick when it struck, vibrating so violently that it almost shook the weapon out of the man’s hand. At the same time, Sam was snapping the right stick outward to slap aside the axe that was coming in toward his head.

  Ducking under the club again, he poked the club-wielder in the solar plexus to cause his head to come down and then kicked him just above the temple with the side of his foot, sending him sprawling. The turning motion Sam used to lend more power to the kick allowed him to whip out with both sticks. The man with the axe was just preparing to swing at Sam again, but one of the sticks struck him in the back of the head, causing him to drop bonelessly to the ground.

  The other stick, still in motion twirled in a figure eight pattern, parrying aside the machete that was coming in towards Sam’s midsection and then quickly turning and coming up to strike the man in the abdomen. When the man bent down from the strike, Sam struck him on the back of the neck with the portion of the stick just above his hand, hoping that the force would not be enough to permanently injure the man, as it would be if he struck with the end of the stick. That man also dropped to the ground, unconscious.