Trading by Shroomlight

by C. M. Simpson

  No, Sulema reassured her. Yours was not the only battle fought in recent times.

  Out loud, the leader addressed them all. “We are grateful for your help so far, and for your offer. That last group brought the last of our people from the Grotto proper. Now we have to see how many of the other settlements still survive.”

  She glanced at Gustav. “Although from what you tell me, they would have been the first to go.”

  He shrugged. “It depends on what was the most vulnerable. Have you always had a standing fighting force?”

  His words made Sulema laugh and brought smiles to the others’ faces.

  “We still do not have such a force. The fighters you’ve seen have come from our recreation teams.”

  “You fight for recreation?”

  Sulema shrugged. “It helped when something truly unpleasant came into the cavern, but no one wanted to be just a fighter.”

  From the way she said it, being a warrior wasn’t a worthy profession. Marsh didn’t understand.

  Gustav was close to outrage. “Just a fighter?”

  “Our livelihoods come from our crops,” Sulema told him, her voice kind, “and farmers should be able to protect themselves, but no one has the luxury to be just a fighter. That doesn’t put food on the table.”

  She’d better not let Henri hear her say that. Roeglin thought.

  Sulema turned to him.

  “Your Henri has already come to understand our point of view.”

  Marsh hoped the healers hadn’t been left too busy from that little encounter, and Sulema smiled. “His Izmay is a most formidable fighter.”

  Gustav looked alarmed. “They’re not hurt?”

  “No,” Kwame told him, and the captain sagged with relief.

  “Although they might sleep until lunchtime,” Tabia added, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Our farmers felt they had a point to prove.”

  Given how abrasive Henri could be, Marsh just bet they had. She closed her eyes, shaking her head, and Roeglin nudged her in the ribs.

  “You can talk.”

  “Back to business.” Gustav turned to Sulema. “What do you want us to do?”

  “Assist us and advise us.” She cast a coquettish look at Marsh. “And share your knowledge with us. That trick with the lightning and the calla glow, those are new to us.”

  Marsh’s face went hot, and she was momentarily lost for words.

  “And then there is the matter of the shadow gates.” Sulema’s face lit with excitement. “That could make trade a lot easier.”

  “And safer,” Tabia added, frowning at her leader.

  Sulema smiled. “Yes, much safer.” She turned back to Gustav. “What do you say?”

  “What’s first on your list?”

  Sulema’s smile grew wider.

  “As I said, the Grotto proper has fallen, but there are other settlements that might not have been reached.”

  “Depending on how they got in.”

  Sulema’s smile faded. “And there’s that. We won’t know the answer to it until we’ve gone around the perimeter.”

  “They could have gated in,” Marsh said, reminding them of the conversation they’d started earlier that morning.

  Gustav turned to her. “What’s your theory?”

  “I think a mage can open a shadow gate to anywhere they have been, and the space doesn’t have to be in the dark. It can, in fact, be very well lit.”

  “Like the washrooms at Hawk’s Ledge,” Roeglin said, and Marsh remembered the look of horrified outrage she’d received from the woman in the tub.

  Her blush deepened, bringing chuckles from around the table.

  “That was unintentional,” she admitted. “I didn’t realize...”

  “It was a bathing chamber,” Gustav told her, his tone suggesting she should have.

  “But there have been so few travelers.”

  “We reopened the trade routes.”

  Marsh sighed. There was that. She waved her hand. “Whatever. What I’m trying to say is that the mage has to have been there before. They have to have been there, seen what was there for themselves, and...”

  “Had sponges thrown at them before,” Roeglin teased, and Marsh gave an exasperated sigh.

  “Not necessarily.”

  Sulema raised her hand placatingly. “We understand.” She turned to Tabia. “We need to know if there were visitors who showed a particular interest in being in one place over all others. Once we know if there was and what those places were...”

  “We’ll be able to find out where they came through,” Kwame finished for her, moving for the door. “I’ll put the word out. If any of the survivors know...”

  Sulema nodded, ignoring the bleak look that crossed his face. Marsh did the same. By the time this was over, they would all have their ghosts.

  Tabia followed. “I will brief the commanders,” she said and paused. “Do you want multiple impi?”

  “Impi?” Gustav asked. “I thought they were spears and shields?”

  “It’s a term we borrowed from history,” Tabia told him. “We use it for a group of shields and spears combined.”

  “What’s the difference between them? These shields and spears.”

  “Shields are our best melee fighters, while spears are those better with ranged weapons,” Sulema interrupted and nodded to Tabia. “We have lost too many for multiple groups. Find the freshest impi and bring them here. We will brief them together.”

  She turned to Gustav. “Fetch your team.”

  Taking the order to prepare for what it was, Gustav rose, Marsh and Roeglin moving with him.

  Marsh was glad he knew the way. She’d been out of it when she’d hit her bed, and then not with it when she’d arrived at the medical center—and while she knew where that was located, she had no idea where her team had been quartered. Roeglin and Gustav knew.

  The huts were arranged in small courtyards of six and Zeb and Gerry were practicing in the open space between them, Mordan watching from the sidelines. At first, Marsh thought both mages were using shadow staves, and then Zeb turned his staff into a shield and cast three small balls of black fire with his other hand.

  Gerry gave a startled yelp, spinning his staff as it shrank down to baton size. He sidestepped the first missile and slapped the second one back. Zeb snapped his fingers and the third one dissipated before it hit his sparring partner in the chest. The ball Gerry had deflected struck his shield and was absorbed into its smooth face.

  “Nice,” Roeglin murmured, and both mages pivoted and hurled shadow darts in his direction. “Bastards!”

  But he was laughing as he raised his hand. Marsh watched as both darts shattered into nothing, the ones that followed stopped mid-flight, and then reversed direction. Zeb and Gerry were not so amused, but they conjured shields and the shadow darts broke harmlessly on them.

  “Where is everyone else?” Gustav demanded, and Jakob appeared at one of the doors.

  “Henri and Izmay are in bed,” he answered, and his face flushed a deep red. “Asleep,” he added, hastily. “They’re asleep.”

  Gustav sighed. “What happened?”

  Jakob hung his head, and Gerry eyed him curiously. “Haven’t you spoken with the leaders?” he asked. “Didn’t they tell you?”

  “Yes, but I wanted to hear it from you.”

  Jakob looked at him. “It’s my fault,” he said.

  Gustav shook his head. “Just tell the story.”

  He was moving forward as he spoke and they all met in the middle. “Well?”

  “Henri complimented one of them on their fighting skills and they just shrugged and said they’d rather be in the fields.” He rolled his eyes. “As if the fighting was nothing, but working in the fields was everything.”

  Marsh could understand how that must have gone down.

  “And?” Gustav prodded.

  “Well, Henri said...” Jakob swallowed, his eyes darting to Zeb and Gerry as though seeking help. When he didn’t find
any, he cleared his throat and continued. “He said working in the fields wasn’t what had saved their lives, and they said fighting didn’t put food on the table, and Henri said being a caravan guard most certainly did put food on the table.”

  He stopped, staring at Gustav’s face, but the captain just waved for him to continue, so he did. “The other guy poked Henri in the chest and asked what good putting food on the table was if someone else got to share the meal with his wife.”

  Gustav looked at the ground and shook his head. “And it was on,” he finished as though that was what Jakob had been going to say.

  “And it was on,” the man agreed, looking thoroughly shamefaced.

  Gustav rolled his shoulders and looked at the cavern ceiling. “Right. We’ll let them sleep,” he said and was stopped by the look on Jakob’s face. “What?”

  “Gonna have to let them sleep, sir. The healers kind of put them out. Pretty sure not even Marsh could wake them.”

  Marsh stirred and Roeglin laid a hand on her arm. “That wasn’t a challenge.”

  She shook him loose but stayed where she was as Jakob stared anxiously at Gustav. The captain took another long breath and nodded. “I get it. In the meantime, we’re needed. Grab your gear. Roeglin, make sure they get to the meeting hall on time. Marsh, you’re with me.”

  8

  Nick of Time

  The rest of the team reached the meeting hall at about the same time as Tabia and her impi. If they were surprised to see that this shield and spear were mostly women, none of them showed it—and Marsh thought it might be a good thing Henri hadn’t made it.

  That man would not have been able to keep his mouth shut, Roeglin agreed, and we’d have been picking his ass up a second time.

  Better than kicking him when he’s down, Marsh told him, although the thought was tempting.

  When everyone had gathered, they moved out. There was a small settlement a four-hour run from the wall. It was a full day’s walk—from both the wall and the Grotto proper.

  Are you going to be okay? Roeglin asked when they discovered they’d be moving at the jog for the journey, and Marsh bared her teeth.

  I’m always okay, Ro. You know that.

  The look on his face said he didn’t know that, but he didn’t argue with her, falling into line behind Zeb and Gerry instead. Gustav took the lead, and Jakob took up the rear.

  “Henri’s going to be pissed he missed this,” he muttered, and Marsh laughed.

  “Maybe he’ll learn not to pick fights with the locals,” she suggested, and Gustav gave a snort of disbelief.

  “I doubt it.”

  They hit the wall. After that, there wasn’t time for argument or talking.

  “We’ll keep watch from here,” one of the rock mages told them, and Marsh watched enviously as they had the rock carry them up above the shrooms and then form alcoves around them.

  Looking up, the only way she knew where they were was because she’d seen them disappear, and then the impi was moving and she dropped into the pace, looping her arm through Roeglin’s.

  I’ll scan the way. She gave him no chance to approve or disagree, tweaking the shadow strands and then seeking what life might be lurking in the cavern around them. It was both a relief and a worry when she found nothing in range of either. The next two hours brought more of the same.

  Although she saw the usual array of creatures and some stray moutons, there were no more shadow monsters in range. Marsh breathed a little more easily, aware Roeglin was relaying the news to Gustav as they ran, even though none of them spoke.

  “Heads up,” Roeglin murmured, breaking her concentration. “We’re nearly there.”

  Marsh was torn. On the one hand, she needed to be alert to her surroundings. On the other, this was where her scan was most needed.

  “How would you be able to tell?” Roeglin asked her, his voice a persistent distraction, and she had to admit he had a point. She might be able to tell the life signs, but unless there were shadow monsters acting on their own, she wouldn’t be able to tell a human villager from a human raider.

  She dropped the scan and glanced up toward where a dim glow of light showed where the lip of the sinkhole was. As she did, she noticed vines hanging over the edge. Not vines. She stared at them. Those hung too straight and too long, their dark lengths silhouetted against the gleam of sunlight.

  “Incoming!” Gustav’s full-throated roar showed her Roeglin was on the ball, as did the hand curled around her bicep steadying her as they began to run.

  They followed the impi as it broke from a jog to a sprint and bolted toward the village.

  Shamka had been named for one of its founding families. Usually a place of orderly industry, it was in severe disarray when the impi arrived. This time the raiders had not brought shadow monsters, but that did not mean...

  Marsh tucked herself in an alcove and reached out into the cavern. Seeing what she was doing, Roeglin stood guard, making sure she wasn’t disturbed as she looked for what they all needed to know. The shadows showed her clusters of fighting men and women, as well as a small group of human lives moving a short distance from the fighting.

  “There!” she shouted, trying to lunge past Roeglin. He caught her and stopped her.

  “I’ve got them.”

  In the shrooms at the edge of the village, Mordan shrieked a challenge and Marsh had a quick impression of her moving into a swift run.

  Hunt with me. The kat’s demand was too much to ignore.

  I come.

  “Don’t you...” Roeglin’s voice faded as Marsh selected a patch of shadow beyond him and bounced to another under the shrooms, following the kat’s path.

  “Deeps be damned and shagged!” echoed in her wake.

  Marsh ignored him. No doubt he’d have something to say about it later, but right now there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop her. Marsh bounced through another set of shadows and found herself running with the kat.

  There, was followed by, Mine! as the kat tagged the mages she would kill.

  Mine! Marsh echoed, selecting two more. These had started to move away from the rest, and Marsh remembered that they liked to have mages on either end of any portal they opened.

  Maybe that’s what I’m doing wrong.

  Focus! Roeglin’s shout brought her out of her head in time to see the raider coming toward her through the trunks of another stand of calla. Marsh didn’t hesitate. She drew the light out of the calla shrooms and dumped it over his head, intensifying the heat she found there.

  Don’t set the cavern on fire. Roeglin sounded alarmed.

  “Fine!” Marsh retorted, leaving the heat where it was and pulling a sword from the shadows. The raider screamed as the light engulfed him. He fell to silence as Marsh drove her blade through his throat. So much for getting clean.

  Don’t make me come over there.

  I’m kinda busy, Ro, Marsh argued, but she was already trying to find the mages. They’d moved while she’d been dealing with their guard.

  But not far enough. They’d stopped to position themselves on one side of what would be a new gate. Marsh watched the shadow swirl as they drew its outline with their hands, linking their magic with the magic of the other pair of mages.

  What are they planning to bring through there? Roeglin’s question was breathless with horror.

  It doesn’t matter, Marsh told him. It’s not happening.

  Mordan snarled her approval and sprang. Marsh’s vision blurred with the sensation of power and movement as her teeth closed over her target’s throat.

  Marsh! Roeglin’s voice pulled her out of Mordan’s head. They’re getting away.

  No, they’re not. But Marsh was grateful for Roeglin’s intervention. When she was done with this, she was going to find Alois and get him to explain familiars to her. In the meantime...

  She charged out of the shrooms, catching the closest mage by surprise and burying her blade deep in his side. He drew a shocked breath as she pulled it clear an
d ended him. The other mage dropped his end of the gate and turned toward her, lightning crackling over his fingertips.

  Marsh pulled a shield between them, and his hand slapped hard against it. Before he could pull it away, she folded the shadow around his fingers, enclosing his hand in darkness and holding it there, and then she thrust her sword into his chest, too.

  Kicking him off the blade, she turned, looking for more.

  They came out of the shrooms behind her, their faces contorted with fury. Marsh backed up, catching her heel on one of the corpses she’d created and pitching over backward. With a shout they were on her...or they would have been if a spear hadn’t lanced out of the darkness pinning one to the other.

  Two crossbow bolts followed, and they lay still. Marsh scrambled to her feet.

  Zeb hurried forward, positioning himself to defend her if anyone else came before she could get there. “Do I get dinner too?”

  “And me?” Jakob asked, reloading the crossbow.

  Marsh gave them both an exasperated look.

  It’s only fair, Roeglin chipped in, and she rolled her eyes.

  Not helping, Ro.

  Before she could answer either of their questions, another group of raiders came charging out of the shrooms. Marsh drew a short rain of lightning onto their heads. “Are we even yet?”

  Both men shook their heads. “Nope,” and “They’re not edible,” were not the replies she was looking for.

  “Next time, I’ll let them reach you.”

  Zeb pretended shocked disbelief. “You wouldn’t!”

  “Want to make a bet?”

  “I’d kick your ass.” Gustav had arrived. On his heels were another dozen raiders. The captain kept running, passing Zeb and Jakob as they cut down the lead raiders and drew their swords to meet the rest. Roeglin and Gerry arrived shortly afterward and helped them take down the last two.

  Sounds of fighting carried from the village. Screams followed as Mordan roared, and someone laughed. “Sic ‘em, kitty! I’ll fight with you any day.”

  Marsh bolted back toward the town, the boys running with her.

  She’s okay, Roeglin reassured her. I’m here.