Key to Conspiracy

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Key to Conspiracy Page 2

by Talia Gryphon


  Gillian thought about that a moment. Deliberately keeping the link open between them, she asked Trocar, “Hey, is it possible to put up, like, a magic-dampening field, specific to geography?”

  “You mean which will prohibit magic from being used?” Trocar was puzzled.

  “No, more like one that might keep a Master Vampire from knowing he was a Master Vampire,” Gillian said.

  “A nullification field?” Trocar asked.

  “Yes.”

  He chuckled. “It is possible, Gillyflower. All things are possible within the Fey.”

  “What Fey could or would do that?”

  “Any who were loyal to the Dark Prince’s cause.”

  “Wizard caliber?”

  “Not necessarily. A potent spell does not need a potent caster. It may take the skill of several mediocre practitioners and require”—he searched for the word— “bolstering of some kind to ensure it stays in place.”

  “Hear that, Aleksei? You and Tanis may have been rendered impotent by our fangy friend and his pals.”

  Amusement from him flooded her and she shivered at his warm mental touch. “I would hardly call myself . . . impotent, cara. But your analysis and deduction with the Dark Elf is very informative and would be the most reasonable explanation for why Tanis’s and my own powers had never exceeded a certain level. It may also explain how I am able to contact you in this way, thousands of miles from you.”

  “Shit.”

  “Pardon?” Trocar asked.

  “Nothing, it just seems that this coup we’re in has been planned for a very long time.”

  Aleksei again: “If that is true, piccola, I must ask you to please hurry back here where we can gather our resources and put a stop to it. Tanis and I may not be the only Vampires or Paramortals who have been affected this way. It is essential that we understand what kind of powers we may have inherited. I shall contact Osiris and gather information.”

  “You do that,” Gillian said out loud. “Let’s move, people, we’ve got assholes to catch. Lock and load.”

  Being a real psychologist, Gillian had used her time wisely and resourcefully. She sat in one of the makeshift hospitals, doing what she could for the survivors, both children and adults. Most were dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder and grief and loss issues from their ordeal. She and Jenna managed to make contact with a number of families who had children missing, possibly due to foul play rather than the quake, and found out about scads of families that had been wiped out and now had one or more missing orphaned children according to non-abducted siblings. A high-level Red Cross worker confirmed those suspicions and gave her a list of missing children and infants from the surrounding and immediate areas.

  The female worker told her off the record that she suspected inside contacts within either the medical staff, the police or the military assigned as disaster aid. Gillian and Daed caucused over that possibility. It made sense in a very sick and twisted way. Someone in authority would have access to all sorts of information such as which children were orphaned or had missing adult family members or who were not being claimed—those who wouldn’t immediately be missed. Like a labyrinth, the plot was twisting in all sorts of spectacularly inconvenient directions.

  Stealth would be their best offensive. They couldn’t afford to risk the lives of the kidnapped children by blasting in like storm troopers. Pavel returned with news late that night. Rumors abounded as to who was responsible in the Paramortal community but the most persistent rumor was of a rogue Shifter who was spearheading the operation.

  The rumor among the locals was that this individual had been fairly twisted before being turned and preyed now on the Human children whom he had found delectable while still Human. No one was sure what flavor of Shifter the man was since he was a loner who had not been in the vicinity more than a year, but those who had tried to investigate early on had come up empty. Nothing was ever traced directly back to him; he had used several aliases and lived in a very remote area to the North of the village. No one was even sure of his actual name.

  There were also reports of a strange couple who had claimed several of the children in the area and had finally been turned away when a worker had recognized them from another camp. Pavel melted away to find Luis and Daed, leaving the rest in the buckled street.

  “Great,” Gillian muttered, “just fucking lovely,” upon hearing the news. “Even more sick twists than originally determined, and no one has a goddamned clue as to anyone’s identity. This has FUBAR written all over it.”

  A new allegiance came from an unexpected source. Trocar glided back into town shortly after Pavel delivered his news. Kimber noticed and motioned to Gillian. They watched the tall Grael Elf melt out of the trees. Trocar apparently had some sort of a misshapen lump on top of his shoulder. The moon was full, bright, and visibility was good, but they still couldn’t quite make it out. Until he got closer.

  Jenna and Gillian chorused, “Oh hell no!” bringing a look of puzzlement to his ebony features.

  “You object to those who offer to help us, Captain?” His voice was level but there were the beginnings of anger in his tone.

  “To those, yes, I do. They’re not reliable. They’re like Pixies, for Crissakes, Trocar, undisciplined and noisy.”

  Trocar gently lifted the small being off his shoulder, setting it on the ground, where it scampered over to Gillian and shook a tiny spear at her. “You ungrateful Big! You do not accept the help of the Brownie Nation? Those who are already allied with you?”

  “Big?” Gillian processed that. Apparently whatever language the Brownies spoke had limited vocabulary for a larger size.

  It was small, less than eight inches tall, with darkly tanned leathery skin, a tiny nose, snapping black eyes, clothed in an owl-skin hood, cape and bright clothing made of woven, dyed thistledown fabric. “I am Ignacious, I am Herald of the Brownies, and I came to offer help.” He waved a hand back at Trocar. “I came knowing he is of the Fey Bigs, knowing he is with Human Bigs. You insult us!”

  The Brownie’s voice was raspy, his cadence and dialect sounded like it was coming through a translator, but Gillian could feel his sincerity with her empathy. Oops. No sense in making enemies. Time for a tactic change.

  She knelt before him to come more to his level. “I am sorry, Ignacious. I have had no direct dealings with the Brownies and did not realize your dedication to our cause.”

  Formally she offered a fingertip, and after a moment, he placed his tiny hand on it and said, “We oppose the Dark Lord and his plans. The Brownies are independent and do not wish the Councils of Elf or Fey and Fairy to speak for us. We honor our word, even to the Human Bigs.”

  “Then I apologize for my candor, Herald. Apparently what I learned about your people is wrong. We would welcome your help in finding the lost children.” Gillian rose and elbowed Jenna, who was snickering behind her. “Shhh. We can’t afford to piss anyone off.”

  “I know . . . but Brownies!” Jenna giggled. “We’re getting help from Duncan Hines and Betty Crocker! Snack food for the win!”

  That elicited snickers from Kimber, and Gill bit her lip to keep from joining them as the Herald turned back toward the forest. The Brownie unhooked a small horn made from the tooth of some woodland creature from his belt and blew into it. The noise was abrupt and sounded gaseous.

  Jenna and Kimber degenerated into laughter. A sharp look from Gillian and they tried to maintain decorum. “Sorry, but that sounds like a mouse fart,” Jenna gasped between guffaws of laughter.

  Kimber giggled helplessly. Gillian palmed her face, hoping the Brownie wouldn’t pay attention to her blunt companions. No one had time to debate her; there was an outcry from the woods, and suddenly Brownies, thousands of them, poured out to surround their little group. They were all dressed in various small bird or animal skins and similar brightly colored clothing, and they held tiny weapons: spears, bows and miniature quivers. Torches made with fireflies captured in some form of delicate silk
waved about in tiny hands. It was rather amusing hearing the small but mighty crowd and their ferocious determination.

  Ignacious shushed them all and then spoke. “The Elf Big has explained that Human children are being used by Others for pleasure.”

  There was a rippling of angry squeaks and shouts from the Brownies. Ignacious continued, “This female Big is going to tell us how to help. She is their leader. The honor of the Brownie Nation will be known to all!”

  There were cheers, spear wavings and general bouncing from the assembled Brownies. Gill, Jenna and Kimber managed to keep straight faces; Trocar was looking down at the little beings with what could only be described as a kind expression on his lovely face. Who knew? The Grael apparently had a soft spot for small beings. Wait a minute . . .

  Louis, Pavel and Daed, hearing the commotion, walked up to join the group, Brownies hurriedly scattering out of their way. Gillian briefed the newcomers on what had been happening. She was a little concerned being out in the open with people coming and going, back and forth, but there was nowhere to meet with a thousand Brownies and not attract attention. Workers, military and body detail were all passing them and staring with great interest.

  Finishing her assessment and her thoughts, she said gravely, “Forgive us . . . Bigs, we are not used to seeing so much courage in ones so small but we thank you for your gracious help. We must find these children before more harm can come to them.” That was so diplomatic it made everyone’s teeth hurt.

  “We shall help you. We will join with your cause, Gillian Key,” Ignacious proudly announced.

  Gillian took a little more time, explaining the presence of the Vampire, Elf and Lycanthrope in their party and who Daedelus was, then went over the Turf War in more detail with them as well. The Brownies had a right to know all that they were committing to. It took less than an hour. The little people were bright, and determined to listen and understand.

  “The Brownie Nation is loyal to the one you call Osiris and we will state so.”

  This was from a new voice, a female Brownie, a little taller than the others, dressed in a bullfrog skin. “We know of this War already. It has spread to all parts of Fey and Fairy. We are noisy and undisciplined as you have said, Gillian Key. To most Bigs we are of no use, but we will keep strong the ties between Brownie and others of like minds.”

  Ignacious, the Herald, announced her. “This is our Brownie Illuminati, our Light, our Queen, our Wellspring.”

  The female was taller and more slender than the other members of the group, who seemed to be all male. She was pretty, her features more defined than the males. Nut brown hair hung to her ankles in waves. She carried a scepter and a very nasty-looking knife.

  “I am called Sanovia Tanichka,” she said in her dulcet little voice.

  Gillian nodded in acknowledgment, then introduced all of them, adding, “You are to help keep these Bigs safe as well when we go on our mission.”

  There were nods and murmurings of assent among the throng of little beings. Good, thought Gillian. At least we might stand a chance and everyone will be all right.

  Pavel stepped close to her and whispered in her ear, “Her name means strange Fairy queen. I do not believe it is her correct one.”

  “Thanks, Pavel,” Gillian whispered back. “But we’ll take allies named and unnamed for now. Maybe it’s a ritual where they have to know us or have fought with us before we get to hear the name of their Queen.”

  The handsome Werewolf nodded. “This may be true. I am not from this region so I do not know the customs of the Fey here.”

  Turning her attention back to the assembled masses, she ordered them to move out and track their quarry. The light was good tonight and there was no sense in wasting an opportunity. Everyone snapped into movement. The Brownies melted into the trees, Ignacious and Sanovia going with them. Apparently Brownie Queens and Heralds weren’t exempt from fighting.

  Trocar moved up to her elbow. “I am worried about Luis, Gillian. He is too quiet and still even for a Vampire.”

  “He’s been through a lot in a short time, Trocar,” Gillian replied softly, sparing a glance at Luis, who stood silently by the trees, gun in his hands, waiting. “He’ll be all right.”

  “I hope you are correct. Nevertheless, do not be alone with him, you or the other Humans,” Trocar said firmly.

  Gill watched his perfect features and saw the slight frown flicker across his perfect brow as he looked at Luis. Trocar never told her what to do, never second-guessed her. He rarely used her real name.

  “You’re serious.” She was amazed.

  “Indeed I am. I do not want to contend with trying to intervene for your safety while we are rescuing the children. You, Jenna and Kimber are the weak links in this particular chain.” At her offended look, he laughed softly. “I mean you no disrespect, Captain, but you are more easily killed than the rest of us.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, Trocar, but I thank you for your concern.” She smirked at him. “I’ll watch my ass, you just watch yours.”

  “I believe watching yours will occupy my time much more judiciously.” His grin was absolutely wicked.

  “If you two are through seducing each other, we need to get moving.” Daed’s imperious voice grated on both of them. Gravelly and Southern, his accent was pure Virginia money, despite his family coming from Greece only a generation before.

  “Stuff it, Daed,” Gill remarked good-naturedly. “Lock and load, gang.” But she passed on the information about Luis to both Kimber and Jenna. It was just too out of character for Trocar for her not to act on his suggestion. They were a Team, after all.

  CHAPTER 2

  GILLIAN moved through the trees taking point, flanked by Trocar and Pavel. Kimber and Jenna followed while Daed and Luis brought up the rear. They spread out, treading quietly, weapons poised and ready, noticing the smaller shadows running silently with them.

  It felt good to be productive, out on an official mission again, she had to admit. Being so long under the watchful eye and curtailing thumb of the Vampires she’d left in Romania, she’d been worried about her own abilities to reengage her command and survival skills. Apparently they were right there where she’d left them, in working order.

  Daed suddenly whispered to her to wait, moved up next to Pavel then motioned Gillian and the rest back. She nodded and signaled the others. It made sense to let the Shifters go first. Lycanthropes of any flavor had a better sense of smell.

  While Trocar’s and Luis’s hearing and eyesight were on par with or better than theirs, Shifters could pick up scent long before any audio or visual clues emerged. It was interesting to see Daed surreptitiously displaying his Shifter status. She had never seen him allude to it in any way before.

  Abruptly the uneven ground gave way to a solid flat surface; they were on a road. The forest was bathed in moonlight, but there were sinister shadows and shapes in the darkness. Gillian, Kimber and Jenna followed their paranormal colleagues with complete trust. Vampires, Elves, Fey and Shifters could see in the dark much better than they could. No one needed flashlights or other illumination unless they wanted to see what they were shooting at. Hopefully they wouldn’t be shooting. Gillian was optimistic about a peaceful detain and contain.

  Thinking about the fact that the pedophiles they were searching for might be, or might have ties to, Lycanthropes of some kind, Gillian reached back and removed the twelve-inch knife from its spine sheath. The bullets in her gun would blow a hole in whatever she shot at, mortal or not, but wouldn’t kill a Shifter unless she blew its head off. The blade was pure silver and had been a gift from Trocar. It would bring true death to any Shifter they tangled with, if she wound up that close. She was hoping they wouldn’t have to get that close. Unfortunately, she was wrong.

  In the darkness the roar of a hunting predator shattered the silence. Everyone froze. Looks were exchanged all around but no one appeared able to identify the type of sound.

  Pavel and Daed were scenting the air
. It looked a little unnerving to watch them sniffing around in Human form, but if anyone could decipher their adversary, they could. There was no telling what was out there. Most Lycanthropes outside of large metropolitan areas tended to settle in geographically compatible locations specific to their type— that way the Shifter didn’t stand out as much. This was Northeastern Russia, home to Siberian brown bears, Siberian tigers, lynxes, snow leopards, eagle owls, gray wolves, moose, boar, a host of heavy-bodied, powerful beasts and birds. Goddess only knew what the hell was stalking them.

  Pavel loped back to where Gillian and the other women stood. He had partially shifted and it was a bit unnerving to see his six-foot-three bulk looming in the darkness.

  “Shifterrrrrrr,” he said with difficulty through his muzzle. Then turning, he placed himself squarely in front of the women.

  “Pavel,” Gill hissed. “Don’t stand in front of any of us.” She didn’t want to risk him being caught in the cross fire, if it came to that. Pavel wasn’t up to speed on fighting with projectiles. It didn’t hurt to remind him that he was just as squishy as they were.

  He moved obediently but remained close, noticing Jenna shifting her trusty fire cannon away from his back and Kimber releveling her crossbow. Trocar was suddenly behind them with Luis, who had his rifle on his shoulder. The Dark Elf wizard-assassin could kill with his bare hands or even spell damage, but he held a short bow with an arrow nocked and who knew what else hidden in his clothing. They all noticed that the Brownies had flanked and surrounded them.

  There was a crackling in the bracken some distance away. Something large and heavy was moving toward them. Everyone braced themselves. Kimber brought out her UV flashlight and affixed it to a top mount on her crossbow. She’d flip it on if they needed it.

  Pavel growled but Daed motioned him to be silent, his own body coiled and poised. Trocar motioned to Gillian; there was a side trail off the main road that was where the noise was coming from. Soon they heard a rough, deep, gravelly voice, accented in Russian, accompanying the crunching and crashing noises. “We guide you in.”

 

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