Marking Territory (Freelance Familiars Book 2)

by Daniel Potter

  "Ooooh, so pretty," Rudy whispered as nearly every tree within eyesight blossomed into orange flame. "Sounds lovely." His claws scrabbled up the length of my neck until his wobbling weight rested between my ears.

  Everyone, magi and familiars alike, stood with jaws agape.

  Jules smiled at the Blackwings. "Any of you care to duel me for this shallowing?"

  "What?" Dorothy coughed, covering her mouth with the crook of her elbow. "That cannot be a shallowing!"

  "It is a shallowing. The first of several that will be created. Slowly the planes will align over the next few days." Jules smiled in the way a parent explains something to a slow child.

  Dorothy stepped forward, jabbing her finger at Jules's chest. "There is no way you could have done this! Who is backing you? Who created this?"

  "We all stand on the shoulders of giants, m'lady," Jowls sang from near Jules' feet. “Giants that want to see the emergence of House Technomagi when the new Council is formed."

  The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I checked on where everyone stood. Nobody had moved but Sandra, who'd stopped fiddling with the console and hefted a silver cylinder across her lap.

  Jowls chuckled.

  What's he trying to pull? I thought to the trio.

  After a moment of internal discussion, they answered, Diplomacy, we think.

  A bad feeling twisted around in my stomach, as if I'd swallowed a live snake. If it were diplomacy, Jowls wouldn't be looking so smug.

  "I see," Dorothy said, her voice edged with caution.

  "I understand you need to show something to the Crones for the loss of Neelius." Jules gestured to the shallowing. "This one is yours."

  "Ours? You're offering use of one of the largest shallowings that has formed in my lifetime?"

  Jules held up a finger. "There are minor catches, of course."

  The whites of Dorothy's eyes flashed for a moment as she looked back and forth between the shallowing and Jules. She turned toward Veronica, but the bird gave no notice of her questioning eyes; she hadn't reacted to a single word. A look passed between the three human magi.

  Dorothy turned back to Jules. "Let's hear them."

  "You take this, claim it and then you leave the rest of this county to us."

  "If we take your deal, what stops you from unmaking it as easily at you created it? House Morganna won't be beholden to lesser house over a tass source," Dorothy countered.

  Jules looked down at his feet, away from Dorothy's intense gaze. "Those are the terms. Or you can duel me over every single instance here." He set his shoulders and raised his eyes. "And we both know how that will go."

  Rinoa stepped up and whispered, "The black planes."

  Dorothy set her jaw. "You're bluffing. Ixey is investigating your cheating at the duel, and now you're attempting to bribe us. She won't allow you to proceed with your duels. Not in any legal fashion. We'll contest you at every shallowing and transition. We will win each share of tass from underneath your electric eyes."

  "Tsk tsk," Jowls said. "Jules was so hoping we could come to agreement."

  "Plan B," Jules said. Sandra held up the canister toward the Blackwings and a gout of water four-feet thick blasted from the container. In a motion nearly too fast for my eyes to follow, the water scooped up the magi and their familiars, turned like a snake, and rushed headlong into the burning desert.

  All three of the magi glowed with the power of their anchors as Sandra twisted a dial on the control panel with savage glee. The world twisted and the Blackwings, along with the burning forest, disappeared, replaced with a dark void. Whispers of something needled at my ears before a sickening feeling of torque on my mind forced my eyes closed. When they reopened, trees, normal trees, once again greeted my vision. I couldn't help but notice they were not the same trees as the one that had been consumed by the shallowing.

  I shook myself and those besides me did the same. Awe and fear rolled out from the trio. Jules turned to us all and made a placating gesture.

  "Nobody worry, they'll be fine," Jules said. "We just put the girls and their dogs in a bit of a time out and bought us some time alone."

  ***

  After the Blackwings had been pushed out of our reality, Jules and Jowls regaled us with a speech or something. The only thing I heard was the bubbling of my stomach twisting tightly as my moral compass spun in a panic. Trapping the Blackwings like that tasted wrong. But he hadn't killed them either. At least when it came to killing magi, the magical world seemed to have some restraint.

  If I'd I been alone in my head, I might have gotten up the gumption to do something about it, but the trio intruded on my internal arguments. Even if I shielded my thoughts from them, I couldn't hide my deepening sense of guilt. Emotions radiate through the bond much easier than thoughts.

  They would have done the same to us, you know, Tom said as we returned to the van after the briefing that I hadn't heard.

  And I'm pretty sure Dorothy would have done worse to us if given an opportunity, Henry added.

  Does that make it right? I asked.

  Killing them would have been wrong, Richard said. The other two nodded. They're not powerless there, Thomas. It's a real risk that they'll find their way home without our help. Six months max. Once Veronica comes out of her funk in a few weeks. It might be much faster depending on how much she knows about planar travel. If Jules is going to use them as a bargaining chip, he's going to have to do it fast. Focus on your own troubles, Thomas. Let the Blackwings worry about theirs.

  What he said made sense. If I really wanted to retain my freedom and operate in the magical world as a mercenary, I was going to have to stop getting the butterflies every time a magus screwed over another magus. This time I hadn't pulled the trigger, but what if a client seriously asked me to do something similar? If I bugged out every time a client hurt another magus, my list of clients wouldn't be very long, would it? The client list was probably already minuscule, trained magi without familiars. Moreover, having sympathy for a group of woman that included the one who’d flung me down a hallway in an attempted mugging wouldn't get me anywhere. No closer to the hundred groat of tass I needed to help O'Meara. And beyond that, I looked down at my paws. The Blackwings went from feathered to thumbed in the pace of a second. Surely someone could do the same for me for a bit of tass.

  I just had to focus on the work. Think of the money and remember that harvesting tass off a person did no long-term damage. Tass after all was the dew of reality. Nothing like soul collection or anything nefarious like that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  By the third day, we had it down. Tom, Dick, Harry and I were the collection team. Jules and Jowls huddled over their map in the morning and figured out where the most lucrative transitions would hit. That's where we would go. Meanwhile, the park had been converted into a construction site. Jules and Jowls built something from machine-produced steel beams as Noise dug out a foundation, joined by a growing number of clanking automatons that weren't rodent-piloted.

  As for Rudy, he appeared to be unemployed at the moment. Sandra hadn't forgiven him for losing another elemental to save my tail. He was still a bit shaken up after the whole incident, so he recovered on my shoulders and stirring a bit to make a comment here and there.

  On the third day, the rodent's sense of humor had made a full recovery. "Oooh! An ice transition is going to hit the entire supermarket? That’ll make Grantsville the town with the largest freezer section in the country! We should sell tickets!"

  "No audience. Nobody can see the ice, remember?" I told him, trying not to roll my eyes as we pulled into the parking lot. The squat brown-roofed building was from the same architectural family as the plaza. The only bit of color on it was a neon-lit sign declaring it to be Grover's! Then in a small cursive font: "Your Family Grocer since 1957." That last bit was new, and the plastic lettering was much less sun bleached than the larger bits.

  "Well, we should at least rent ice skates. Particularly if th
e people in there are going to become ill-tempered ice giants." I felt his small body give a shiver.

  "It won't be that bad," I said. "Transitions haven't tried to kill us lately." I squinted at the building. The barest edge of purple crept along the walls. Not long now.

  Tom, Dick and Harry were zipping up their winter jackets and internally grumbling about always getting stuck with the grunt work. They'd been getting surly the last few days, as Jules and Jowls never went out to collect tass despite the fact that the trio were the senior magi of the group. Jules had simply countered, "Do you three know anything about the orbit of multiple planes through space-time? We have to keep our gravy train going here. Or would you all prefer our streak to end? It’s not a stable thing."

  The trio had sputtered, but the fact was that the dimensional control device had been Jules' creation and they really had no idea how the thing worked on anything more than theoretical level. There were only two familiars, me and Jowls. One of us had to do the gathering, and I was the contractor. It made sense to me. I perched in front of the van door and waited for us to stop moving.

  And waited.

  After we circled the parking lot, I shot our driver a quizzical look. "You going to park sometime today?"

  "Keep your fuzz on," Harry said. "Soon as I find a spot. It’s crowded."

  "Crowded? It’s a noon on a Wednesday." I pushed myself up on my hind legs to see through the window. Rudy's low whistle echoed through the van.

  A line of cars confronted my vision. There were so many that people had pulled onto the asphalt islands that capped every row of cars. SUVs were parked so close together that the occupants must had exited out rear doors. Glancing back at the supermarket itself, I saw a sight I hadn't ever seen before: a line to get INTO the store. I hadn't seen a store this mobbed since I'd made the mistake of attempting to secure an Elmo for my niece on Christmas Eve a few years back.

  "Something tells me that nobody's here because Fruit Loops are having a double coupon day," Rudy said.

  "Well, it doesn't concern us. We're just here for the tass," Richard said as he popped the latch on the door, which roared back across the van.

  The van jerked to a stop. "Hey!" Harry snapped as we all bounded out.

  Just keep circling, Richard thought to Harry as he and Tom flipped out the black tass collection bags.

  Harry assented. Minor disappointment flowed from the man, but he held his thoughts to himself, as myself, Rudy, Tom and Richard approached the group of people that waited in front of the store. I fletched as their scent caught my nose, their fear tainting the air around them with bittersweet notes and stirring my appetite. A cop stood by the door, his back straightened and his hand drifting to the baton on his belt as we walked up. His mirrored shades prevented me from seeing his eyes, but I felt them rake over the length of my body.

  "No dogs allowed." The man coughed. "It's crowded enough today."

  I blinked and sat back on my haunches. Nobody had ever challenged my right to go anywhere since O'Meara had gotten me the service dog harness. At least he didn't even seem to see Rudy. Surprise blossomed from Richard as he stepped up beside me.

  Richard paused while he cobbled together a response. "Ahhhh, sir, he's my service dog. He goes everywhere I do."

  "You don't look blind, you're not in a wheel chair and you heard me. You don't appear to need a dog to function. What's he do? Carry your booze? He's a hazard in there. A Saint Bernard like that will make a puddle of drool that somebody will trip on."

  "Hah! I told you ya drooled." Rudy sniggered.

  I didn't have time to laugh at my squirrel friend, as Richard's thoughts turned to disabling the cop with a violent spell. Tom, get contact with Thomas and ready a shock spell. We don't have time for this. We can't miss this transition!

  Right, so we assault the police officer and then get flattened by a store full of people as they run screaming out. Great plan, I thought back. Why don't you try this first? I quickly gave him a script to try.

  I have to say all of that? Richard groaned not-so-internally.

  Unless you guys know any Jedi mind tricks.

  That's not our area of expertise.

  Then try talking through your problems. It builds character.

  Fine. Richard squared his shoulders, looked at the officer and smiled so hard that I think I heard his cheeks crack. "Old George here is my emotional support dog in these tough times, and he's very well trained. He won't be any trouble at all."

  I did my best good dog impression to try to back up Richard's rather languid delivery. Attempting to pant and wag one's tail takes a surprising amount of effort. Neither comes naturally to cats.

  Richard moved to the second act. "George SIT!"

  I was already sitting, so I fixed him with an annoyed look.

  "George Down!"

  I lay down.

  "George roll over!"

  I rolled over despite a squeak of protest from Rudy, who abandoned ship to hide behind Richard's legs. I heard the mechanical click of an imitation shutter as I did my best “what a good boy I am” impression. I didn't know what social media Rudy used, but I'm pretty sure that pic would go viral.

  The cop didn't look impressed, but he lifted his hand away from his club to cross his arms. "The trick I'm interested in is the one where he heels and doesn't dash across the store after a scrap of food someone dropped on the floor." As the cop spoke, his breath streamed out in a cloud. The temperature was dropping as the transition began.

  Richard took out my leash and clipped it to my collar as his thoughts were growing increasingly frantic. I kept feeding him lines and hoping the cop would give. Otherwise we were going to have to try a different tactic, one that probably wouldn't result in anyone getting what they wanted. I stuck close to Richard's side.

  The line had filled out behind us and eventually one of the bystanders took pity on the display. "Ah, let him in, Chris. Everybody needs supplies, even the crazy dog people."

  The cop turned his head toward an elderly gentleman carrying several worn cloth bags. He wore a green puffy jacket that looked nearly as old as he was.

  The cop muttered something and stepped aside.

  I nudged Richard, who started and said, "Thank you so much, sir."

  "See that your dog behaves himself," the cop growled as we walked into the supermarket, the doors sliding open with an airy hiss.

  The air inside seethed with the scent of people. Frightened, jittery people walking on their last nerve. A few of them had marks of being in previous transitions. I smelled beef, and not the sort behind the meat counter. Large signs had been posted, drawn up with markers on poster boards. Limits per customer, per day and a list of staples. Several items, including milk, were listed as out.

  What the hell was going on?

  Thomas, stop staring at the signage and look for the tass. It's getting cold in here. Even as the words drifted into my head from Richard's, frost began to spiderweb across the sign like tiny fireworks exploding in slow motion.

  Why the hell is Grantsville rationing food? I demanded. Do you know?

  All I got in return was a mental shrug. They're mundanes, Thomas. They've always had their own problems. They'll deal with it in their own way.

  I probed his mind for a brief moment, looking for some sign of deception or errant thought that might indicate that he had ulterior reason for blowing my concerns off, but he literally didn't care. Nor did he have a concept of how bad things had to be for an American town to start rationing foodstuffs. I looked to Rudy, who was engrossed in his phone.

  "Rudy, do you have net access?"

  He tilted he head to look at me with a single eye. "Yeah! You’re going to be famous on the Cats that Thinks They’re Dogs subreddit!" He grinned.

  No food but power and internet access? Maybe there was a blizzard on the way? I made a mental note to get Rudy to try to pull up a local news blog or something on the way back to the techno-hub.

  I huffed out a sigh and studied t
he way my breath swirled into the rapidly chilling air in front of my nose. Beyond it, the crowd of people had begun to slow, their postures hunched against growing chill in the air as our reality slipped into a foreign one. There was something about the way the purple rippled through the air that I recognized. It was the same reality that had formed the shallowing at the plaza, or one so similar it wouldn't matter. That ripple pattern was a sort of fingerprint for the reality. I wondered if I could recognize it and find this plane while I was helping a magus form a spell.

  Jagged ice crystals erupted first out of the freezers and then spread into the aisles. The reality seemed to know this would be a temporary stay and didn't aggressively pursue the shivering shoppers. Still, there was no escape for them. The store filled with the sounds of crackling spring ice as the people surrounding us froze solid. Ice crystals stabbed out of a cashier's tear ducts, the telltale white glimmer of tass forming on its tips, as if pushing out toward us in an offering.

  I could feel the presence of three minds crowding around my vision.

  "It’s in the tears!" Richard exclaimed, and he took an aggressive step toward the registers. His foot skidded forward out ahead him, the smart looking leather shoe offering no traction on the slick ice that held onto every surface in the front of the store. Giving an unwizardly "Yiiii!" while his arms spun out at his side, Richard toppled.

  "I believe that's called a technical difficulty?" I glided over to him on my much more stable four paws.

  "Well, in hockey, I think they a call that an error," Rudy quipped.

  "Just help me up. We don't have much time. Tom, get the tass," Richard grumbled as he hauled himself back on to his feet using my scruff as leverage.

  Tom was far more careful than Richard, or at least behaved like someone who'd actually been on a sheet of ice before. He shuffled over to the cashier and plucked out the ice crystals from the corner of her eyes.