by Cat Adams
Sela ran fingers through her short blond hair in frustration and only then noticed the blood that came away on her fingers. She looked down in shock, apparently just realizing how she must appear. “Look, Mila. I know this must seem strange, but you have to believe me—it’s imperative that the men downstairs don’t see me here.”
Mila folded her arms over her chest and raised brows, stern with disapproval, in what her brother always referred to as her Baba face. “Go on. How did you get up here, and why don’t you want those men to see you?”
Few people could stand up under the Baba face, and Sela was no exception. She looked again at the suitcase and then at her watch before replying. “All I can tell you is that there are things going on that you don’t understand and will have a hard time believing. I like you, so I tried my best to keep you out of this, but it’s too late now. But trust your gut, Mila. You’re more unique than you can ever imagine. There are people who would … who have killed—” She looked toward the door at the sounds of movement outside. “Oh hell, there’s no time. Just, keep an open mind and be careful.”
With that, she turned away and started throwing things frantically into her bag.
Mila felt like an idiot standing there, just staring at the woman who she’d lived with for nearly two years now—but apparently didn’t know at all. Rational thought said that Sela was delusional from the blow to her head, but instinct … her gut, told her differently.
Before Mila could frame her first question to get more details, she felt a strange, prickling sensation flow through her feet. It was pins and needles, but of a different sort than before an episode. This was deeper and heavier … more like claws that grabbed and held, filling her skin with heat and pain. She felt her head snap around at the precise moment that Sela’s did—toward a spot near the window that was shimmering. With an abruptness that made Mila gasp, a greenish haze replaced the sparkles and a tall man stepped into the room as though the window was a door.
Mila froze as she recognized the man who’d tortured her in the dream. Clothed in black silk, he reeked of death and decay. Mila expected to run from the room, from the man who’d stolen the life from her body, planned to scream and cower. But instead, she stepped toward him aggressively, surprising herself. She forgot to lower her voice, but it didn’t really matter anymore. “You’re not welcome here, Vegre. Get out and leave us alone.”
While his eyes had been only for Sela, the mention of his name drew both his and Sela’s eyes toward her. He stared at her for a long moment but then shook his head. “I don’t know you, human, but that you own my name means your death.” He raised his hand and uttered a single word. “Moratay.”
“Avatay.” The word slipped out of Mila’s mouth, completely unbidden. It was such a surprise to hear him to utter that old word—part of a game she and her sister Sarah had played as kids. It was similar to Marco Polo that her friends played, but the second word had to be uttered before the first word finished, otherwise you lost a point. She felt heat hover in the air around her face and then it blew around her and Sela. The energy hit the wall hard enough to blow apart the old plaster over the brick. The resulting blast of noise didn’t seem possible from the light breeze that had passed around her.
A flurry of footsteps bounded up the stairs just before a hard shove sent her sprawling to the floor. The words came seconds later. “Get down, Mila!” She felt another rush of heated energy singe her hair, like walking past a bonfire when the wind changes. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Vegre grab Sela’s arm and start to drag her toward the roiling, bubbling gash in reality.
Even as her mind screamed, Leave this alone! Run! Hide! she reached out and grabbed Sela’s ankle with both hands and pulled, struggled to keep Sela from being abducted. It was as though her sudden help spurred Sela on, because she began to fight in earnest—kicked and scratched and screamed nonsensical words at her attacker.
The door burst open, slamming against the wall so hard that the old patterned knob embedded in the plaster. Mila caught her breath as two men raced in with Candy and Baba Nadia at their heels. The blond man … he was the same one who had been in her dream.
“Alexy! Help her!” Mila’s eyes locked on those of the dark-haired man who’d shouted. She didn’t recognize him … not at all, but she felt like she should. His movements, his energy, felt so familiar that it was almost like he was a lover she’d forgotten she had. But then, when the blond moved forward to help, the name the man had called him finally struck home in her mind. Yes. He is Alexy. Time seemed to still as Mila took in the implications. Even a woman’s scream nearby seemed distant within the buzzing in her head as she stared at the blond and felt a surge of deep friendship … comradery that had no romantic ties, but was equally as strong.
“Oh, my God! Is that Sela? What’s happening to her?” Candy’s words from the doorway drew Mila’s gaze away from the men. Vegre had disappeared through the passage, and only Sela’s lower torso remained in the room, stretched painfully—her pant leg taut over a twitching leg. She was halfway between here and … wherever, held only by Mila’s fierce grip on her booted ankle. The next scream made her realize that holding her like this was hurting her. Even Alexy hesitated and looked to the other man for guidance.
“Think it’ll come off if I help pull?” It took a second for Mila to realize that it was Sela’s leg.
The dark-haired man looked stricken at the thought and seemed to struggle within himself for an answer. He opened his mouth finally, but it was her baba’s calm, gentle voice that broke the silence.
“Yes. Too much of her is on the other side. Mila. You must let go.”
She felt her eyes welling as she stared at the crackling green hole of energy. “But I can’t. He’ll kill her. She said so, and I’ve seen what he’s capable of.”
“He? Who took her?” The dark-haired man moved across the room and knelt down beside her. His dark eyes were intense, flickering with an internal fire that seemed to warm her toes. “Did you hear a name?”
“Vegre. His name is Vegre.” The name made three of the four others in the room flinch and her grandmother reached instantly for the cross under her shirt. She kissed it and closed her eyes. “Then she is doomed. But please, Mila … don’t help him by prolonging her torture. Let go.” Another scream punctuated the air, lending credence to her baba’s words.
“Wait!” cried the dark-haired man suddenly. “Not yet.” He ripped off a leather driving glove with a large chunk of green glass over his palm. He held it for a second and then with a look of determination, made a throwing motion into the flickering void. He turned his head and nodded. “You can let go now. We’ll find her.”
Something made her comply. But she’d been holding on so tight that it was hard to open her fingers. The man had to help her pry them open against the constant tug from the other side of the sparkling goo. At last she felt Sela’s leg slip away. The moment the last bit of spiked heel disappeared, so did the sparkling.
It was suddenly still in the room until Alexy let out a frustrated sound. “Tal, what in bloody hell were you thinking? He’ll spot your glove in a second and we’ll wind up dead from a soul-sucking spell before we can make it back to base.”
The dark-haired man, Tal, looked at him calmly and then smiled. “Cloaked it first and put on an attachment spell.”
The frustration slipped away from Alexy’s face, to be replaced by a brilliant smile that was obviously his normal expression by the many laugh lines around his eyes. “That’s bloody brilliant. I’d never have thought of turning a focus into a tracker.”
Mila felt apart from herself, numb and fuzzy after the frantic activity that resulted in failure. It was Candy’s voice that turned their laughter serious again. “Would someone please explain what’s going on? Spells? Trackers? Weird green—” she fumbled for her next words, “goopy things that people disappear into?”
Baba patted her on the shoulder. “All in time, Candace. First, though, we must refresh a
nd do a reading. Before I reveal more, to you or—” she motioned to the men with a stern look, “—them, we must have calm energy.”
Tal rose from his squat and flipped one side of a long cape back over his shoulder in a practiced gesture. He offered Mila a hand up and she realized she was still sprawled facedown on the floor. Rising to her knees she took the hand, marveling in the gentle strength that seemed almost … chivalrous. “Um, thanks.”
The sensation of his touch wasn’t what she’d expected. His hand was overly warm, heating her skin until her toes tingled. Her body ached from that one touch, but there was also a familiarity there, a sensation that she’d been touched by him before … intimately. It was a struggle not to gasp or throw herself at him and she noticed that as soon as she was on her feet, he let go, as though burned.
Tal turned toward Baba, his voice gruff, yet breathy. “Apologies, Grandmother, but we’ve got a criminal to track. Sela’s strong, but his followers are many. If we don’t find him soon—” He paused, and anger filled his face. “Well, we won’t consider that. We will find him.”
Baba’s wide body filled the doorway and she gave another of her patented looks over crossed arms. “You are weak and will only endanger the witch further if you proceed without ritual. Come. You will eat herbs and drink tea and be healed. Otherwise—” She paused and stared at the men with the most dangerous expression Mila had ever seen. “I will put you down where you stand.”
CHAPTER 3
Tal stared at the old woman in the doorway in disbelief. Surely he must have heard wrong. “Madam—”
But she raised her hand to stop him. “There is nothing to your words, unless over tea. You may not leave this home until then, or you will surely regret it. Candace, Ludmila—come. You will assist. We will leave the Guilders to discuss their options.” A burst of raw power punctuated the words, enough to tighten Tal’s chest.
The same horrified surprise that was painted on Alexy’s face was probably spread across Tal’s at the old woman’s words. He had never seen her before and yet he thought he knew every Guilder that voluntarily lived topside. He’d also never felt magical energy such as hers. It was warm and cold simultaneously and tasted on his tongue like ripe fruit. But … she’d called them Guilders and had recognized Vegre’s name. What in the name of the Tree is going on?
Apparently, the other two knew better than to argue with the stern matron, and followed her almost meekly. But he heard the blonde named Candace whisper to the other when they reached the hallway. “What’s a Guilder, Mila?” The other woman shrugged before disappearing around the corner.
Mila. It was a pretty name, and she was certainly a lovely woman. There was something strange about her though, something he couldn’t seem to erase from his mind. His fingers still tingled from where they’d touched her hand, and he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that he shouldn’t have let her go … should have pulled her close and held her tight. It was disconcerting enough that he couldn’t tear his eyes from the doorway, even after she was long gone.
He was still staring after them when Alexy stepped closer and lowered his voice. “This is getting very strange, Tal. Who is that old woman? She’s a Guilder, no doubt about it. I touched her magic, but it kicked me back when I tried to explore the measure of it—like I was a new apprentice who had made the mistake of pressing the guildmaster. Do you think she’s in forces with Vegre?”
Alexy was right. There were far larger things going on here. He shook his head as frustration began to set in. “I wish I knew. The odd thing is that I almost feel like I should know these women from somewhere. The old one reminds me of someone from long ago.” He paused, trying to remember but eventually shook his head. “Maybe it’ll come to me. But we need to decide what to do—where to go from here. We need to find Sela, but it would be foolish to just leap into the void without examining why she was taken, and from here.” He looked around the room. “So, what do we know for certain so far?”
Alexy nodded sharply, his training kicking in. “Vegre and other unknowns have broken out of Rohm Prison.”
Tal turned and started flipping through the open travel case on the bed while nodding. “We know the guards at the prison are dead or spellbound. Or, I suppose they could be deserters or in cahoots with the breakout. Time will tell on that. We know Vegre found a gate to this world and it somehow exits into this room … which isn’t an approved location. Or,” he mused, “has someone managed to create a spell to make portable gates in and out of Agathia?”
Alexy thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I’d say no. Guilders have been trying to do that for centuries, but gate spells are under such tight restrictions that the king’s guards would have known immediately if someone had tried to cast one—especially around the prison complex. No matter how close the kingdoms are to war, they’d never allow that. Someone would have captured them long before they got to this stage. I presume Kris would have told you if they’d broken up a gatemaking ring. Yes?”
He nodded, trying to think of any reason his sister would keep such vital information from him and the O.P.A. “At least she’d tell me if she wasn’t instructed not to—and I can’t imagine why anyone would give that order, short of treason by an advisor or guard that they wouldn’t want the Agency to be involved in.” He ran a finger along the edge of a large television mounted on the wall. His finger came away dusty. “We know Sela was with us when the battle started and then she disappeared when we both got hurt.”
Alexy pressed his palm to the window glass that Tal had noticed looked down onto quiet, snow-covered homes, many still decorated with holiday trimmings. He pulled it away abruptly, as though burned. Tal watched him look at his hand and shake it with an odd expression before speaking. “Ow. We know her magic signature was still strong enough to lead us back to this house, and apparently there’s some sort of shielding spell on this room that stings like crazy. It’s not earth or water magic, but I don’t know enough shield spells in other trades to judge what they might be. Oh, and what did you think about the old woman knowing Sela was a witcher?”
Tal wouldn’t be able to sense shields for a little longer yet, considering how far down his reserves were, so he’d have to rely on Alexy’s skills. “Yes, I wondered about that. Very few people know Sela originally trained in the witch guild. She’s an illusionist now because her water working skills weren’t as strong. But that tells me the old woman either is very powerful and sensitive or has inside knowledge of our agents, since Sela didn’t switch until after she joined the O.P.A. I haven’t decided which option is worse.”
He started pulling open drawers and began feeling under the clothing, searching for … something. Anything that would provide answers instead of the never-ending stream of questions. “We know that Sela somehow kept the information that she lived here secret from us for quite a while. She’s had these possessions some time considering the dust and wear, and none of it is Agathian.”
Alexy was still feeling along the edges of the windows, trying to get a measure of the spell, hissing and swearing as his fingers reddened. “Craters, this spell has some punch to it! This room is completely blocked … windows, doors, even the wall edges. Must have taken some time to do. A single spell wouldn’t manage it. This room would be invisible to outside scrutiny by anyone except perhaps a guildmaster or royalty.” He sighed. “I don’t know about you, but that screams illegal activity to me. Of course that leads to another question. Where’d she get topsider currency? Technical items like these computers and video players aren’t just handed out like festival sweets.”
A queasy feeling was forming in Tal’s gut. He never liked to think ill of a fellow agent, but there was too much evidence in this room to ignore or believe mere coincidence. “Do you think she went bad?”
Alexy let out a slow breath and then shrugged. “She risked her life to try a befouler spell on Vegre. I can’t imagine that someone in cahoots with him would try that. It would mean her death—to pull eno
ugh energy from her own life force to destroy someone as strong as him. The only reason she didn’t finish the curse was because he knocked her out.”
Tal nodded. He’d had the same thought. So, there must be another reason. “Right, then. Let’s take an energy sample in this room back to the commander for testing. We can at least find out what magicwielders have been in and out of here in the last week. That’ll tell us something.”
Alexy nodded and pulled on his battle glove. “It’ll take a few minutes to track the energy back that far in time using just a focus stone—especially with the disruption the gate caused. I’m pretty weak right now.” He glanced toward the door with a look of longing. “Really could use some tea. They might even have some food down there. It feels like days since we ate.”
Tal shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You always think with your stomach. Business first, Lieutenant. Then we’ll decide how to get out of here without raising any alarms on either side. We can eat when we get back home.”
The resulting sigh was enough to make him shake his head again. But at least Alexy had assumed the proper position on the floor and was already meditating to begin the energy search. Meanwhile, he began searching the room. This seemed to be where Sela lived while topside, and he immediately wondered why she had come here after disappearing in the cavern, instead of reporting back to him.
He looked around the space slowly. The furniture was nice and appeared to be about the same age as the house. It was only the accessories that were new. The clothing in the travel case had been tossed in haphazardly, but had been chosen with care and were obviously well made. The colors and textures didn’t match items he’d seen Sela wear before, but they were too small for the other women in the house … unless there were more residents than had shown up so far. “Alexy?”
