by Phil Stern
It was probably best, Tiffany soon decided, not to ask any additional, awkward questions. Obviously, the hoverbikes were an instance of cross-dimensional contamination, having been surreptitiously shipped in from a more advanced world.
Odder still, Barbara had made a great show of grandly introducing herself to the shopkeeper, almost as if to emphasize that she’d never met him before. He, in turn, pretended never to have heard of the Coven at all, belying the warm reception they’d received in town so far.
The playacting may have even worked on others, but having known Barbara for years, Tiffany was highly attuned to her bullshit. And sure enough, she soon saw the Elder and the shopkeeper exchange surreptitious, knowing nods. Without question, the senior witch was trying to deceive her own protection detail. This was disturbing on many levels.
Having carefully studied the list of undercover Coven facilities in Peth last night, Tiffany was certain the bike shop wasn’t on it. All right, so Barbara had a few private, unlisted friends here and there. So why not just come clean now? Wouldn’t that be easier, and potentially less embarrassing, than this dumb charade?
Suddenly, Tiffany remembered Eleanor’s instructions to watch for anything unusual while in Peth. This was clearly the kind of thing she was talking about.
Catching Tiffany’s eye outside, Marissa casually put a hand on one elbow, then adjusted her belt buckle slightly. Apparently her friend had made the same unsettling observations, as this was a coded Coven signal that someone was trying to deceive them. Nodding slightly, Tiffany swung a leg over a bike saddle, settling down into the seat as she put a helmet on over her long, dark hair.
“Ready to go?” Barbara called out. The last out of the shop, she smoothly mounted the lead bike, also casually strapping on a helmet.
“We sure are!” Marissa replied, revving up her engine. Amid the noise, Solia and Tiffany merely raised their hands and nodded.
“Then let’s go!” Swinging her hovering craft around, Barbara carefully led her three companions down the main street, navigating past more horses and people until they reached the far end of town. Once there, with the long, winding road before them seemingly stretching out into eternity, she burst into full speed. Soon all four witches were zipping through the slightly sloping, forested terrain, banking hard around each turn.
Amid all the tension of the past three weeks, it was refreshing for Tiffany to just revel in her innate powers with her Coven-mates. Wearing stylish black motorcycle jackets and dark sunglasses, their long hair flowing out the backs of their helmets, all four women used their magical perception to guide the jet-powered hoverbikes. Pushing the cycles almost to the limit, the witches quickly consumed vast amounts of Peth terrain, hurtling down the winding mountain road toward Orly’s Bridge.
At these speeds, on such a challenging course, any mundane rider would have wiped out a long time ago. Of course, the bikes were equipped with advanced computers and radar systems, and on a more sophisticated world would have access to satellite telemetry. But what was the point of that? As it was, this was the perfect blend of magical skill and human reflexes, combined with more than a touch of sorceress bravado.
Still, Tiffany was content to just bring up the rear, watching Barbara, Marissa, and Solia jockey for the lead. Zooming in and around one another, darting ahead when the opportunity presented itself, a horrific crash seemed almost inevitable. At one point Marissa even spun out onto the shoulder, her hovercycle blasting vertically up against a thick stand of trees. Clunking back down to the ground, she barely scraped past Tiffany’s bike back out onto the road. After roaring past Solia, Marissa then slipped into Barbara’s jet stream, suavely cutting inside and past her on the next turn.
However, Marissa’s exultation was short-lived. Utilizing a dip in the road itself for launching inertia, the older woman popped up and over her younger challenger, the hovercycle thudding back down to ground level barely inches before Marissa’s bike. Then, blasting exhaust into her face, Barbara surged on ahead.
Well, if nothing else, Tiffany had to hand it to the Coven Elder. Though she may have lost a step with the werewolves, Barbara was still their equal and more on a hoverbike.
The country highway was heavily wooded, with few obvious signs of civilization. This was keeping with the Peth tradition of small enclaves keeping mostly to themselves, the many small villages they were indeed passing located a safe distance into the forest. An hour into their gradual descent the country began opening up a bit, with lighter forest and longer vistas.
Finally slowing down, Barbara led them off onto an overlook area providing a stunning view of Orly Valley down below. Shutting down their main engines, they all gratefully removed their helmets and stepped off the still-hovering bikes.
“Well, wasn’t that fun?” Slinging her helmet over the end of a handlebar, Barbara briskly shook out long dark hair. “Though Tiffany was a bit of a spoilsport.”
“If worst came to worst, someone had to clean up the mess.” Unzipping her jacket, Tiffany realized it had gotten much warmer. “Anyway, it sometimes makes sense to concede the field to the better sorceress.”
“Oh, that doesn’t sound like the Tiffany Smith I know.” Grinning, Marissa punched her shoulder. “Speaking of which, do you intend to return to your private isle tonight? I’m sure the Pyrons wouldn’t mind a repeat of the spectacle you put on last year.”
“Spectacle? Do tell.” Removing her jacket entirely, Solia then gave a long, luxurious stretch. “What did she do? Pass around pictures of her boyfriend and play checkers all night?”
“Oh no. This was before the boyfriend,” Marissa giggled. “Back when Tiffany was properly single.”
“Okay.” Sighing, Tiffany irritably rubbed her cramped wrists. “New topic, please.”
“In any event, ladies, there is Orly’s Bridge.” Barbara pointed down at the gaping valley beneath them, featuring a narrow span cutting across a long, deep chasm. “Recently, the local witches have tried collecting tolls to use it, though travelers have found ways of avoiding them.”
“Yeah, by scurrying across at night,” Solia added. “Though I don’t intend to wait that long.”
“Neither do I,” Barbara confirmed. “And I wouldn’t expect any trouble from our broom-riding distant cousins. But still, it pays to be wary.”
Marissa couldn’t help rolling her eyes at Tiffany. Apparently, Barbara had indeed learned something from her complacency with the werewolves.
“I agree. They probably won’t bother us.” Placing a booted foot on the low stone wall, Tiffany stretched out her leg muscles. At this distance the bridge looked much like a model rather than the real thing. “But still, we ride across single-file at fifty foot intervals. I’ll take the rear.” The most vulnerable position, and the easiest from which to assist her sisters.
“No, Tiffany. You’ve been covering our asses since we tangled with the wolves,” Solia said. “I’ll take the rear.”
“I don’t know,” Marissa thoughtfully observed. “I’ve heard those old crones really like blondes. Maybe we should just conjure up a sidecar and stick you in it.”
“Well, then Solia would be pasted onto your bike, Marissa, not mine.” Swinging back onto her cycle, Barbara kicked the engine back into a powerful roar. “Come on, girls. I think I’ve had enough chitchat for one day. Marissa leads, then Tiffany, me, and then Solia.”
Mildly relieved, Tiffany realized that Barbara was slowly reverting into the tough, decisive sorceress she remembered from her own early training days. Without further comment they all mounted up again, cruising twenty minutes farther down the road to the western side of Orly’s Bridge.
*****
First putting some distance between herself and Tiffany’s apartment, the ruby assassin pulled into a supermarket parking lot. Popping open a magically-enhanced laptop in the passenger’s seat, Adrina easily found Blake’s cell number and other online records.
Two minutes later she knew that Blake’s phone had been reg
istered by cell towers heading north, out of the city. At that point the trail abruptly stopped, Blake apparently smart enough to then power down his phone entirely.
But still, it was a direction. If Tiffany’s beau turned on his phone again, she would be immediately alerted.
Now browsing through land records and other databases, she noted that Blake’s parents owned a cabin in upstate New York, just over the Pennsylvania border. Situated in the middle of a forested tract, the building was a full mile from any other civilization.
Snorting, the Leven operative shook her head. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? Valensa, kidnaped and powerless, being held by some mundane fool in an isolated location? Well, there was only one way to find out. Putting her hand on the ignition key, Adrina prepared to restart the engine.
Wait! There, on the very edge of her magical perception, the merest hint of...something. Holding herself very still, Adrina now loosened the suit jacket, idly sliding a hand in to touch her handgun.
For five minutes she just sat there, concentrating. Sure enough, the stalker hit the very edge of her sensory envelope again. An enemy sorceress, no doubt of it. Maybe even two. Puzzled as to why Adrina herself was just sitting in a parking lot, they were trying to creep in a bit closer to see what was going on.
Still, these were clearly front-line warriors, not the inexperienced girls and older women that seemed to make up the bulk of the Haven Coven. Interesting, Adrina thought. So they were breaking the temporary truce already, even as Claire prepared to meet her counterpart right here in Philadelphia tomorrow night.
Killing them would be easiest, but Claire probably wouldn’t want her to start a full-scale war just yet. No, she would just have to lose her tail before paying Blake and Valensa a little visit. Starting the car once more, Adrina decisively pulled out of the parking lot, heading back out into city traffic.
CHAPTER FIVE
“BY THE STONE, I’d almost forgotten how beautiful this was.” Standing beside her idling bike on the western lip of Orly Valley, Tiffany looked straight along the long, narrow bridge before them. Nearly a mile off, the eastern hillside was a golden rust and yellow, the localized seasonality of the magical dimension creating a wondrous, inviting fall kaleidoscope.
“So it’s been awhile, has it Tiffany?” Smiling at her latest double entendre, Barbara peered over the low stonework into the deep chasm below. “That’s too bad.”
Sighing, Tiffany rubbed her forehead. Despite her best efforts, the older woman’s company was really beginning to wear thin. She’d also taken all the teasing about Blake she intended to for one lifetime. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been to Orly’s Bridge,” she firmly corrected. “The last time I was in Peth, we simply used a portal on the other side.”
“It’s all right, Tiff. I knew what you meant.” With a sage nod, Solia brushed back her long blonde hair, tying it off in a tight ponytail. “And yes, it’s quite a sight. Though someone needs to remind me why we didn’t simply use a closer portal this time.”
“To confuse the Zarth coven, of course. Show the locals we’re still relevant. That sort of thing.” More than a hint of disdain came through Barbara’s voice. “At least, that was Eleanor’s plan.”
“Well, I’m glad we came this way. I love upper Peth autumn,” Marissa declared, revving up her engine. “Come on. Once we’re over there, it’s just another few hours down to the river basin.”
They all mounted up again, Marissa heading out onto the narrow bridge. Tiffany soon followed, with Barbara and then Solia bringing up the rear.
Built a century before, Orly’s Bridge was supported entirely by a huge underneath arch anchored midway up each sheer gorge wall. Thus it was completely open on top, the low side walls allowing travelers to enjoy an amazing, unimpeded view when crossing between Peth’s two major continents. A shallow river cut through the deep valley a full mile below, though flash floods and virulent quicksand made the lower, longer route highly unadvisable.
No, the bridge was definitely the way to go. The only problem was the high vulnerability to airborne attack when halfway over. With either side too far off for easy escape, the bridge could well turn into a trap for the unwary.
At first, everything went according to plan. Eschewing their helmets for greater visibility and hearing, all four of them had their hair tied back. No one thought of any stunt riding, each sorceress magically scanning their environment while keeping an even speed and distance.
The first local witch came zooming in from the right. Dressed entirely in dirty black robes, with a drooping, conical, large floppy hat, she semi-crashed her broomstick down onto the bridge just before Tiffany. Careening to a halt, the Haven sorceress quickly hopped off her bike. Sensing something amiss, Marissa looked back, also slamming on her brakes and dismounting. Behind her, Tiffany could sense Solia and Barbara doing the same, though holding their relative positions.
“Toll!” cackled the old crone, her weathered face only partially visible beneath the black hat brim. Staggering up from the bridge floor, arms waving wildly about, a tiny burst of magic sparkles flew up into the air. “You must pay up, missy, or else!”
Scanning the airspace around them, Tiffany was unsurprised to see a dozen more witches streaking about on broomsticks. Each waved a ridiculous glass wand, chortling and yelling incoherently. One buzzed Marissa’s head, swerving aside at the last second and nearly crashing into the stone railing.
“Just get rid of her!” called out Barbara from behind. “We can’t stay here!”
“No shit,” Tiffany mumbled to herself while advancing on the nearly maniacal woman. Flexing her fingers within sleek black gloves, Tiffany’s earth stone began pulsing.
Still, she didn’t want to hurt these somewhat unbalanced, quasi-talented local magicians. Scaring them off would be far preferable. “Get out of the way, and no one gets hurt!” she called out, trying to sound tough and decisive.
But of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy. The old biddy made a great show of putting a shocked hand to her mouth, giggling and mumbling. Then, after first waving her own wand about, she launched a sparkling bolt of magic at Tiffany.
Sighing, the Haven sorceress touched her stone, forming a magical shield about her own body. Harmlessly dissipating against her personal defenses, the “hostile” magic was soon gone. Frowning, Tiffany’s assailant propped large, gnarled fists against her own hips, the very picture of frustration.
“Hey Tiff!” Marissa called out. “Now would be good!”
“All right, you’ve had your fun.” Trying to smile regretfully, Tiffany indicated the fallen broomstick, then pointed up into the air. “But it’s time to go now.”
But instead of taking the hint, the old woman simply cackled anew. “Boo!” she now screamed, putting wiggling hands to each side of her head. “Boo to you!”
Two more airborne women took runs at Marissa, the second coming quite close. Drawing the Coven Stick from her belt, she soon held the single-barrel, eight round tactical shotgun once more. “Tiffany, you either move that bitch off this bridge, or I start live skeet practice!” Pointedly chambering a round, Marissa stared at her friend.
“By the stone, Tiffany! Get rid of her!” Barbara bellowed.
Turning about, Tiffany saw two more broomstick-mounted women begin vaguely buzzing Barbara, though Solia seemed as yet unmolested. “Fine!” Tiffany yelled back, once more spinning around. Feeling quite foolish, she walked right up to the black-clad witch again, decisively pointing at the fallen broomstick once more. “Hey! You need to get...”
At this, the Peth native suddenly rushed Tiffany, swinging her wand forward once more with a bloodcurdling yell. Reacting purely by instinct, Tiffany was barely able to reestablish a magical shield in time to catch this next, much more powerful salvo. Impacting the shield by her left shoulder, it actually knocked her back a step.
However, this only helped the Haven sorceress avoid the charging woman. As Tiffany went with the natural inertia from the
blow and lightly stepped aside, the black-robed witch careened right past, hurtling into the waist-high stone wall running along the edge of the bridge. With an audible whoosh, Tiffany heard the air rush from the crone’s lungs.
With a sickening sensation, Tiffany instantly realized that this was a coordinated assault on the whole group. All three of her companions were also fighting off attacks to her left and right, Marissa’s shotgun blasting out three times in quick succession. A bitter wave of self-reproach swept across Tiffany’s mind. While trying to gently urge the seemingly bumbling old witch off the bridge, they’d distracted and attacked her Coven-mates. In essence, they’d played her for a complete fool.
Tiffany’s cold fury completely took over as her assailant spun around again, hissing and snarling. Easily blocking her first punch, Tiffany landed three hard blows to the crone’s stomach and jaw, sending her reeling backwards. Immediately pursuing, Tiffany planted a tight spin-kick dead center mass, right above the old woman’s waist. With a final, surprised chortle, the witch was propelled backwards over the side rail and out into open space, quickly dropping from sight. Tiffany neither noticed nor cared whether she was caught by one of the other broomstick-mounted hags.
A quick glance eastward revealed two bloody, black-robed heaps lying dead on the bridge by Marissa’s feet, her other attackers having fled to a safe distance. Chambering another round, the seemingly unharmed sorceress quickly jogged back toward Tiffany.
Upon looking back towards the western continent, however, Tiffany’s heart nearly froze. Barbara was desperately battling two of the old hags, sparkles of magic flying out in all directions. Even worse, Solia was nowhere to be seen, her hoverbike aimlessly drifting on it’s side.
Cursing, Tiffany yanked out her own Coven Stick, which instantly morphed into a laser rifle. Smoothly bringing the advanced weapon to her shoulder, she coldly gunned down a third black-garbed attacker just as she landed by Barbara. The old woman crashed down on the hard flagstones, a neat red hole in her side.
