by TR Cameron
Ruby leaned back on the leather of her chair and tried to put her thoughts in order. “I don’t remember Kaeni being an active ruler. I thought the title was ceremonial, or hereditary, and the power part of it had gone away long ago.”
Nadar nodded and paused as the refill of snacks appeared in the hands of his brethren. “We have some records, but you are correct. She preferred not to be noticed. Ruler and leader are not the same things, you see. Kaeni made great changes during her time, but she did so by cooperating with people, using influence and agreement instead of authority. Working with the skills she had, rather than the title others had given her.”
“So is that how the gig works? If so, I might not be your girl.”
Keshalla laughed. “I’m afraid I have to agree. She doesn’t have the personality for subtle coercion.”
Nadar shook his head. “How you will lead is up to you. There’s no telling what you could become.”
Ruby sighed. “I’m thinking tyrant. Anyway, what’s the next step?”
Keshalla smiled. “Why, another quest, of course.”
A groan escaped her. “I’m afraid I don’t have time right now. I’m a little busy on the other planet.”
Nadar nodded serenely. “That’s fine. It will be here when you’re ready. Come to us when that moment arrives. Don’t wait too long though.”
She asked, keeping most of the sarcasm out of her voice, “Or what, the prophecy will expire?”
The mystic shook his head and looked concerned for the first time since their arrival. “No, but you might before you reach your destiny.”
Ruby gunned the engine on her ARCH 1 motorcycle as she sped it through the early morning streets of Magic City, wearing a slightly altered version of her true image. She’d slept for a while after returning home, then awoken at dusk filled with a need to move. She’d stopped by the liquor store to pick up a couple of bottles and carried them in her backpack.
She rolled to a stop outside the closed gate of the Desert Ghosts’ garage and knocked. It opened slightly, she showed her coin with its identifying “P-23,” and it retracted enough for her to ride her bike past. She parked it and found Prex sitting in a circle of lawn chairs surrounding a bonfire built on an old truck tire rim. He patted the empty chair beside him. “Welcome, probie. I wondered when we’d see you again.”
She swung the backpack off, sat, and rooted around inside it. She extracted a bottle of expensive silver tequila and handed it over. “Yeah, I know, I’m the worst recruit ever. Maybe this will buy me a little forgiveness?”
The woman beside the dwarf snatched it out of his hands. “On behalf of all the witches here, you’re forgiven.”
He laughed. “She’s the only witch present at the moment, so that’s not as impressive as it might seem. I’m sure she’s planning to share, right?”
The other woman sighed theatrically and nodded. “Yes, of course.”
Ruby pulled the other items out of her bag, which included a bottle of bourbon and a stack of nested metal cups. She laid them out, cast frost upon them, and poured, filling all four. Grabbing one for herself, she gave Prex the second, and the other two were quickly claimed. She lifted hers and toasted, “To forgiveness.” The others laughed, raised theirs, and everybody drank them down.
After that she only sipped, keeping her intake low, only enough to relax, not enough to lose even an ounce of restraint. The group hit her radar as friends, but she wasn’t willing to count on it, not before getting to know them much better. She wound up deep in conversation with their leader and shared in broad terms that she was stressed out and floundering a little.
He nodded. “Hero stuff’s hard. It’s good that you want to make a difference. You know, we’re always down for another adventure like last time.”
She laughed. “Well, in the event I need to take down a convoy again, you’re the first people I’ll look for.”
“I have an idea. We’re headed up to the abbey in the morning after riding around town to collect donations. How about you come with? You have an empty backpack, and it’s a way to do some good that doesn’t require you to put yourself in danger.”
She nodded with a grin. “Will it get me closer to becoming a full member?”
He laughed. “You’re still working off the forgiveness.”
“Fair enough.”
They stayed up all night, drinking and talking. In the morning, everyone participating in the ride drank healing potions to clear any lingering inebriation. The decision impressed Ruby on two levels: first, they were self-aware enough to do so, and second that they thought to use the potions that way. Have to mention this to Daphne, could be her next project. Dr. Daphne’s Patented Hangover Cure. She could picture the witch as an old-time barker selling tonic.
They mounted their bikes and wound through town, repeatedly stopping to pick up donations from houses, apartment buildings, businesses, and even the casinos. When they were fully laden, they rumbled down the road to the abbey. It was tiring carrying the boxes and bags along the long path up the hill, but the reward was a beer tasting in the abbey’s giant hall, which was enjoyed equally by the folks who lived there and the bikers who were visiting.
She took Abbott Thomas aside and explained who she was, drawing the connection between the allegedly human woman he knew and this version of her. He accepted the information without comment, despite the fact that he had to be aware she’d deliberately deceived him on multiple occasions. Ruby said, “I have a friend who a bad person recently hurt. He’s in the hospital, out of ICU, hanging out while he knits up. I’m worried they might come after him again. Is there any way he could convalesce here, instead?”
His head bobbed in assent. “Of course. We have a healer who works with us on a part-time basis but has previously stayed on-site at need. We can ask him to do so again.”
Ruby sighed in relief. “I’ll arrange to have him brought here through the receiving room later today.”
The older man smiled. His long white hair was unbound and looked very much more relaxed than it did when he confined it. “Excellent. We’re happy to do what we can to support you. It’s a good thing you’re doing, you know?”
She nodded. “For a while there, I had some doubts. But yeah, I think it is. Thank you for your help.”
“Thank you for yours.” Together, they returned to the happy group in the hall. Ruby’s mind had cleared, and she was finally ready to relax. For a moment or two, anyway. Then it’s back to figuring out how to find Goryo and make sure he spends a lot of years in jail considering what a bad idea it is to hurt my friends.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Goryo stepped out of the autonomous vehicle near the rear entrance of the Mist casino. His skin was burning up, and he was exhausted, but he’d won his prize. The artifact acquired from the dwarf was now embedded in his left forearm's flesh, to all outward appearances simply a hyper-realistic tattoo. He’d been tested long ago and discovered magic lay somewhere in his lineage, although it was too weak for him to access it. The artifact changed that, and he’d already briefly experimented with the shadow powers it provided. They would prove a nasty surprise for anyone who took him for a mundane human.
The only thing that dampened his enthusiasm in the slightest was the newly arrived voice in his head, constantly urging him to use its power and further its goals, which seemed to be essentially sowing chaos. Fortunately, he’d spent a lifetime disciplining his mind and body. There was nothing his passenger could try that he couldn’t handle. He’d won another victory, as well. At that moment, his armor was in the hands of an expert he’d flown in to repair it and was guaranteed to be available for the big event later that night.
First, one must set the stage properly to ensure the audience shows up. Scimitar’s voice in his ear assured him she had access to all the security cameras in the facility, and she guided him unerringly toward the laundry. The key card she’d arranged was as effective on that door as it had been on the outer entrance, and he wal
ked into the sweaty room with the attitude of someone with a legitimate reason to be there.
He snagged a uniform from a rack and continued onward, detouring into a nearby bathroom to switch outfits. When he emerged, he looked like any other member of the waitstaff. The infomancer was better than a map and guided him toward the kitchen, instructing him to pause or change direction several times to avoid guard patrols. Once inside the noisy and bustling cooking area, he secured a rolling cart and placed salads from the cooler on it, covering them with metal lids. No one will notice their absence since there are a ton of them prepared. Anyone I meet on the way will assume they’re entrées going where they belong.
He made his way through the back corridor into the hotel section and called the service elevator with another press of his key card. It would deliver him straight to the penthouse floor, and his virtual guardian would use the resources available in the computer network to ensure he arrived without a problem. When the doors closed and the car started to rise, he broke into a smile. Won’t be long now.
The murmur in his mind was almost gleeful at the thought.
Rayar Achera sighed. He was increasingly annoyed by the other meeting participants’ seemingly obsessive focus on the subject of Gabriel Sloane. The Council had discussed the fallout of rejecting his request endlessly, and there was no need to rehash it here since many of the people present were also members of that group.
The gathering was in the nicest conference room the Mist casino had to offer, taking up one end of the hotel's top level. A long oval table filled the middle of the space. A serving buffet holding snacks and beverages occupied the wall to his left. The wall to his right was floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a beautiful view of the mountains and deserts beyond the part of Ely that held the casinos. He tapped the table gently, and the sidebar conversations fell silent. “Ladies and gentlemen, the proposal under consideration is that we consider creating a canopy over the Strip, similar to the example provided by Fremont Street in Vegas.”
His son Dralen nodded and added, “It would be expensive, obviously, but the technologies to program it are already developed and easy to use. Of course, whatever they’re able to accomplish down there, we can most certainly improve upon.”
Nods and sounds of agreement came from around the table. Each participant wore a business suit of some kind, and most wore expensive jewelry to complement their looks. Each of the city’s groups was represented, as at the Council meetings, but most had brought along additional support given the opportunity, as he had invited Dralen. It’s important that he learns the inner battles among the owners, as well. I should have brought Morrigan, too.
Jailynne Sunshi asked, “Why rely on technology at all? Instead of investing the capital to build this canopy, what if we allocated that money for hiring performers? They could put on displays of magic throughout the day, which would be far more on brand.”
Rayar was one of several who nodded as they considered the idea. The mention of magic brought home to him yet again how strange it felt to be in this room, cut off from his power. Hidden at each end of the chamber was an anti-magic emitter, and the devices were always active during owners’ meetings to ensure utmost secrecy. Their hosts had also assured them the room was proof against any other kind of surveillance or signals, and the lack of connection on his phone suggested it was true. Not even the hotel’s Wi-Fi was accessible from inside.
Elnyier countered, “That’s an ongoing expense. Would it be better to invest one time and have a reduced cost going forward? We know we have the resources to do it now, without too much extension.”
The others began to debate again. Rayar sighed quietly, shifted his face into a neutral expression, and focused his attention on the words flowing by.
Goryo stepped out of the elevator and rolled the cart toward the conference room. When he reached the end of the service hallway and entered the short corridor that preceded his destination, a pair of hotel guards instantly accosted him. They were bulky men in dress shirts and jackets but with heavy shoes that suggested steel toes and secure lacings. Clearly from the casino’s security contractor, since they’re apparently human.
The way their hands stayed crossed over their stomachs would’ve been enough to warn him of guns, even if the faintly visible outlines of their shoulder holsters hadn’t confirmed their presence. He put on a fake smile. “Refills.”
The nearest shook his head. “Rules are no one goes in. That includes you.”
He gestured at the dishes. “Seriously, man, the stuff is getting cold. I’m doing what I was told to do.”
The further one took a step away from the wall from where he flanked the other side of the door and turned to face him. “We’re following our orders, which say you don’t go in there. So mosey on back to the kitchen or wherever you came from.” He lowered his brow and stared hard, clearly accustomed to being able to intimidate people.
Not how I wanted this to play out, but I’m adaptable. He was aware of the anti-magic emitters in the next room and didn’t trust the artifact to overcome them. In fact, he noted absently that its voice had grown quieter. It makes sense that the suppression would affect it. That provided additional mental focus as he stepped forward with his arms spread wide. “Look, guys.” He never finished the sentence. Instead, he launched himself at the man who had attempted to stare him down and delivered a pointed-knuckle punch to his throat. The guard stumbled backward, gaping in shock as he tried and failed to draw air through his fractured windpipe.
He had to give the other one credit. He had his gun halfway out in the time it took to deal with his partner. Goryo rammed the elbow of the arm he’d punched with backward into the man’s face, missing the temple but connecting with the cheekbone and possibly fracturing it. He pivoted away, stepping out with his back foot and slamming his left hand down on his opponent’s right arm, which now had the pistol free of his jacket. Goryo's other hand grabbed the gun and gave a subtle turn that broke the man’s wrist. He twisted the broken joint to face in the other direction, put his finger over the guard’s, and pulled the trigger as he delivered a front kick past him to clear the door to the meeting room.
Rayar had risen from his seat at the first noise outside, as had several of the others. They managed no more response than that before the door banged open at the sound of gunshots. A security person stumbled backward with another man, disconcertingly dressed in a staff uniform, repeatedly pulling the trigger of the weapon pressed against the guard’s torso. After three more shots, the guard fell, and the intruder smiled. “Thank you all for gathering yourselves together in such a convenient location. Now, how about a nap?”
The gun dropped as the figure’s hands went behind his back. They returned to view, holding a pair of small canisters that were already smoking as he threw them onto each end of the table. Rayar instinctively tried not to breathe, but one of his colleagues rammed him in the stomach with an elbow while trying to make her escape. He huffed his breath out, then reflexively drew another in. The gas immediately sent a wave of exhaustion through him, and a moment later he collapsed, unconscious.
Goryo watched the knockout grenades do their work as he placed a mask attached to a small canister of oxygen he’d hidden under his jacket over his face. After checking to be sure the casino owners were out, he returned to the hallway. He dragged in the other guard, who was unconscious or dead, and locked the door behind him, securing the heavy latch that might have helped keep him out if they’d been quick enough. Not so helpful as to actively prevent my entrance, of course.
He crossed to the anti-magic emitters and placed small charges on each power cord, then moved as far away from the explosives as he could get and pushed the remote to detonate them. Moments later a portal opened, and several people came through. The one who had cast the spell to deliver them there was a wizard he’d worked with before, a man whose skills were exemplary and whose loyalty was for sale. Fortunately, once bought he stayed true, and Goryo made sure to
keep him busy so he wouldn’t get second thoughts.
The wizard had tagged the artifact for tracking before the operation. When he’d reached the room, the connection would have vanished, alerting the man that his part was imminent. As the anti-magic emitters failed, that detection resumed, and the wizard brought in the men Goryo had recruited for this phase of his plan. His human hirelings spread out and dragged the unconscious casino owners through the portal. The wizard, on the other hand, stepped up next to him and handed over a heavy duffel bag, a twin to the one the magical wore on his back.
I guess that’s no longer a distinction I can use since I, too, am a magical. Although, fittingly, I’m descended from the Atlanteans, one of whom created this very artifact. Maybe someday he would investigate his ancestry more fully, but for now, he had a different task. He nodded at the wizard. “Okay, one more thing to do. Let’s get to the basement.”
As he stepped outside the door, his earpiece reactivated and Scimitar advised, “Your path is clear to your final objective, and I’ll wipe the records so there’s no evidence that you left the conference room by any means other than the portal. Happy hunting.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sinnia Achera relentlessly paced the perimeter of her office in Spirits casino, as she’d been doing since the moment she was informed her husband and son had been kidnapped. Her daughters sat together on the room’s lone couch, trying to exude a calm that Ruby was sure neither of them felt. For at least the twentieth time, her mother asked, “What do they want?”
Ruby shook her head. “Money, probably. That’s the most likely answer and the simplest solution.”