by Alma Boykin
Rada swallowed hard, working to keep her face from showing her emotions and her emotions from getting past her shields. You know this is no longer your portion, she reminded herself. Just be glad they don’t know what you now do. Then a light mezzo voice inquired teasingly, “Joschka, what followed you home this time?” The Wanderer turned as a tall woman with curly red-blond hair and brilliant green eyes came to meet them.
Joschka smiled broadly. “Magda, this is Commander Rachel Na Gael Ni Drako, an expert in odd happenings and one of the better teachers I’ve had. Rachel, my wife, Lady Magda the Gräfin von Hohen-Drachenburg.”
Rada dropped an appropriate curtsy, making the noblewoman chuckle. “Welcome to the Drachenburg, Commander Ni Drako,” and she extended her hand.
Rada shook it carefully. “Thank you, my lady. It is an honor and privilege to be guest of such a House as Hohen-Drachenburg,” and as Joschka watched, she pulled a dark blue-green gemstone pendant out of her collar.
His eyes widened. That’s a House signet! What have you been up to, Commander? he wondered.
Magda raised an eyebrow and her smile widened. All she said was, “You must be tired and at least a little hungry, Commander Ni Drako. Since Joschka keeps such odd hours, we always have something ready for him in case he’s allowed to come home, and there’s plenty for a guest and friend.”
It was only after the children were in bed and Rada and Joschka had eaten that the stories were told. Joschka informed his former mentor, “I have no secrets from Magda,” and Rada took him at his word. As the human and her husband listened intently, Rada spun the tale of how she came to be Head of a Drakonic House, and about her True-dragon business partner.
“Well, that helps explain why we got along so well, Commander,” Joschka suggested after she finished.
“And why you are the first one after me that he turns to when something mysterious arises,” the Gräfin added. Joschka kissed his wife’s hand as Rada flushed slightly at the praise.
“Speaking of which, what is going on, Joschka?” Rada inquired, leaning forward in her seat.
Magda excused herself, leaving the two soldiers to their discussion. Joschka thought for a moment. “How much do you know about Austrian geography?”
“We’re on the eastern edge of the region known as the Tyrol. To the east-northeast is the Salzkammergut, while to the north the Alpine geologic province fades into the North European Plain. Farther east the mountains open into,” and she closed her eye, trying to remember, “Steirmark, or Styria as the English call it.” She opened her eye.
Joschka smiled. “Correct. We’re most interested in the region between here and the edge of the mountains. This area tends to be rugged, aside from the major river valleys, and isolated, although that has been changing over the past seventy years or so.” He looked away, into the shadows cast by the dim firelight. “There are still places that celebrate the First of May by jumping over bonfires and where midwinter celebrations draw a much higher attendance than does Christmas Mass. Normally this wouldn’t be something of more than local interest, except for the witches.”
Commander Ni Drako didn’t laugh, which made Joschka feel a bit better. Instead she frowned, “Self-declared witches, or do they have real access to Powers, or are they misinterpreting their own Gifts?”
“They’re none of these, or so I think.” Joschka matched her frown as he thought back over the past few weeks. “Roughly three months ago rumors began reaching me about a coven. I’m regular Army, Commander, and aside from personal interest, saw no reason to be especially curious. If they were breaking a law, that’s for the provincial police to deal with. However, two American soldiers vanished and things changed. I assume you are familiar with Austria’s current situation?”
She offered, “You have the challenge of trying to remain neutral when you are surrounded on three sides by, ahem, ‘allies’ of the Soviets, and are equally blessed with NATO members to the north and south?” When he nodded in agreement she gave him a sympathetic look that shifted to mild confusion. “Is that the curse?”
“That’s not the curse I was thinking of, but that sums it up. And both the Americans and Soviets are eager to find conspiracies, plots, and invasions where there might not be any.” Joschka had a long-suffering expression on his face and Rada smiled a little. “When the two soldiers vanished, the usual cases of driving drunk and crashing off a mountain road, deserting to avoid the angry parents of a local girl, or kidnapping by Soviets all proved negative. Or at least the first two are negative and the third highly unlikely, since we found the remains.”
He leaned forward, uncomfortable. “There was a, well, for lack of a better word, a scent of Power around the bodies, but twisted. Not like I’m used to. And I found these near the two corpses.” He got up and pulled a box out of a drawer in the heavy wooden sideboard, brought the box back, and opened it very carefully. Rada removed a loupe from her pocket and reached for the items, then paused, eyebrow raised. Joschka sat back. “I think you can touch them safely, Commander, but I don’t like to. They make me feel unclean.”
He sensed her checking her shields before picking up one of the two small pieces. It was square and shiny, like polished gemstone, except for the long, whiskery filaments trailing from the ends of the item. Rada held it closer to her magnifying glass, then flipped it over. “Do you have a piece of silk I can borrow?” she asked. Joschka gave her his handkerchief and she laid the cloth on the table, then put the strange thing on top of it and pressed her finger against the bottom of the central square “stone.” The thing seemed to flare with light in response to her touch and Rachel snatched her hand back. “Yech, that’s foul,” she grimaced, wiping her hand on her sleeve.
She examined the other, similar item, then set them both back in the box. She closed it and draped Joschka’s silk square over the lid. “You’re right about the out-of-time technology. These are control circuits for taking over a human brain. They are organo-crystalline and still contain the remnants of the last program commands that they transmitted.” Rachel wrinkled her nose and curled her upper lip, as if smelling something truly foul. “The technology was perfected, if you can call it that, here on Earth about 300 years from now. And banned 400 years from now, although it is still in use, as you can imagine.” Ni Drako sat back and stroked her long, dark braid, thinking as Joschka considered her words.
She folded her arms and began counting off on one hand. “So you have illegal materials, brought back without permits or protections, meshing with a Power, in the middle of an international situation. Ye gods, Joschka, you still can’t do anything by halves, can you?” Ni Drako’s eye gleamed, and she gave him that old wry grin.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Joschka had to smile. “Yes, well, you wouldn’t want me getting bored on this—what did Sergeant Reiker call it? Oh yes, wretched backwater.” Joschka sobered. “Are you willing to help me, ah, Rachel?”
“I don’t think I have a choice,” she sighed, rubbing the scars under her blind eye. “By the Laws, now that I know about this I have to try and stop the technology transfer. Aside from whatever someone did to those soldiers, the connection to a Power bothers me greatly.” Joschka hid his relief as she shrugged. “However, no offense Joschka, but it’s late and I’m still recovering from major medical problems. Can we pick this up in the morning?”
The HalfDragon ducked his head in chagrin. “I’m sorry, Rachel! I’m charging ahead without thinking, as usual. Certainly, we can pick up in the morning. I have a day’s leave tomorrow, so we can get things sorted out better then.” He stood and came around to her seat, offering a hand, which she accepted. “This way,” and he led the way up a broad flight of stone stairs and down a hallway to a bedroom. “This is yours. Please ring a servant if there is anything you need.”
She smiled tiredly. “Thank you and your lady, Joschka. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
The next day Col. von Hohen-Drachenburg, his wife, and their guest sorted
out how to present Joschka’s consultant to his superior officer. They settled on “Miss Rachel Na Gael,” an Anglo-Irish scientist. That gave her neutral status, explained her slightly odd accents in German and English, and matched her expertise. “Although it might make it a fraction easier to get your security clearance, we can’t use your military background. There are no women in the combat arms of the Austrian, German, or American militaries,” Joschka apologized over dinner.
She and Magda smiled. “Our time will come, Colonel, but don’t tell any of your superiors that,” Rachel cautioned.
Later that afternoon, the former mercenaries faced off with practice blades in Schloss Hohen-Drachenburg’s riding arena. After he beat her the third time, Joschka started feeling a bit of pity for his half-blind associate. That was a mistake, given her chronically short temper. «I’m an empath, not telepath, damn it Joschka!» she snarled into his mind, switching blade hands and taking her position yet again. This time Rachel pushed him hard and he found himself abandoning the formal patterns and rules of saber fencing as he struggled to defend himself against her reckless attack. He parried and cut at her blind side, forcing her into an awkward blocking stroke. After two more moves he got her in a clench, forcing her back. She opted to drop, rolling and cutting at him as she did. Joschka caught her halfway to her feet and scored. “Touché!”
“Touché,” Rachel agreed, panting and going back onto one knee. “I am so out of form,” she wheezed.
Joschka removed his mask and wiped his sweaty face with a towel. “And I should know better than to challenge you! You are left handed, aren’t you?” At her nod he thought aloud, “That’s what I thought I remembered. In that case, you need to focus on compensating and not so much on the right hand work. Although,” he looked over at an array of weapons set out on a bench near the gate. Joschka made up his mind and selected a long dagger, handing it to her hilt first. “Try knife in the right, sword in the left. If you can get them coordinated, it will help you protect your right side.”
They started again, and it didn’t occur to the Austrian until they finally stopped sparring how easily their old roles had reversed. As they put their weapons away and cleaned their practice padding, he observed, “You accept teaching more easily than I remember.”
Rachel nodded, giving him an almost resigned smile. “Joschka, I’m not quite a quarter-century shy of four hundred, with more kilometers behind me than Germany has Autobahns! I’ve been claimed as a House Pet by a lizard, study Healing with a gentleman who’s mostly a horse, and can hardly remember when I wasn’t on the run from someone. If I couldn’t learn to adapt and switch roles as needed, I’d have become subatomic particles centuries ago.” She’d switched to Trader as she said it and Joschka had to work to follow her. “And you’ve become a pretty good teacher, my friend. Fatherhood suits you well,” she smiled, a true, warm expression of respect and praise.
“Thank you. I take it you are still on your own?” As soon as he said it Joschka realized he’d made a mistake. Rachel’s eye closed and her face became a study of pain and sorrow.
“I am now.” She stood up and walked away before he could apologize. Dear God, I wonder what happened to hurt her that badly?
By supper Rachel was back to her usual cheerful self and she and Magda compared notes about Joschka, to his mild embarrassment. Not that he didn’t give as good as he got, but Rachel’s memory was a bit too good and brought up too many recollections of his own. Some of them he’d just as soon have buried and forgotten. He realized later that she’d also managed to completely distract him from his speculations about her past.
“What is your plan for introducing your visiting expert?” Magda inquired over dessert.
Joschka sipped his coffee before answering, “She will arrive at the Salzburg Hauptbahnhof very early tomorrow morning, and I will meet her there and bring her to Army Group headquarters myself.” He anticipated Rachel’s question. “General Esthergorm and the others have been warned that you are a woman, Rada, eh, Miss Na Gael.” I have to think of her as Rachel, otherwise there’s going to be trouble. Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. “Um,” he studied his coffee cup, “is there any way you can minimize...” and his voice trailed off.
“No, not at the moment. Until the debris in the eye works its way out, I can’t put in a contact lens because of the irritation. I will wear one on the other side, since there are not many grey-eyed brunettes walking around Ireland,” and she winked, “nor can I claim descent from a shipwrecked Spaniard.” The others smiled at the joke and Joschka was impressed that she had that much knowledge of “local” customs and history.
The next morning Lieutenant Colonel Joschka von Hohen-Drachenburg met Miss Rachel Na Gael at the train station and escorted her to meet his commanding officer and others involved with investigating the “odd local behavior.” He could tell that she was amused at the lengths the men went to in their efforts to avoid noticing her little problem. Rachel presented her papers for inspection, although how she’d managed to acquire an Irish passport (showing her with two eyes), appropriate visas and stamps, university certificate, and other items on one day’s notice he had no idea. He decided that he didn’t want to know. The documents passed muster, and General Frederik Esthergorm nodded his approval. “Everything seems to be in order, Miss Na Gael. Colonel von Hohen-Drachenburg has spoken highly of your skills and I hope you can help us sort matters out quickly.”
Someone behind the black-haired general coughed. “Excuse me, General Esthergorm, but I’m afraid I must remind you that my government requires me to verify the identity of any personnel introduced to this investigation.”
“Indeed, Major Peters,” and at the general’s nod Joschka handed Miss Na Gael’s documents to the cotton-blond American. The man scrutinized them but failed to find anything wrong, to Joschka’s great relief.
«That’s because they are genuine,» Rachel said into his mind. «I have friends in some interesting places, plus I tried to anticipate what might be needed.» He nodded slightly but didn’t reply.
Peters handed the passport and other materials back to Rachel. “I’m sorry, Miss Na Gael, but I’m afraid I must insist that you remove your eye patch. For security reasons.” Major Peters did not sound the least bit sorry and Col. von Hohen-Drachenburg bristled. He started to protest, but broke off as Rachel’s hand moved to her face. His voice caught in his throat as he beheld what lay under the black fabric.
Rachel lifted the patch away, and the nasty part of her relished the humans’ reactions as they saw the ruin that had recently been her right eye and cheekbone. Joschka and some of the other men gasped or swore. She read their feelings all too easily: the injury was bad enough, but on a woman! Peters blanched, then leaned forward and inspected the mess closely, satisfying himself that it truly was scar tissue, glass shards, and bone fragments. “How did this happen, Miss Na Gael?”
“I was tortured, Major Peters.”
Joschka and General Esthergorm exchanged a look and the General mouthed damn Soviets.
Rachel continued calmly, “Someone believed that I had both access to and control over a valuable item. When I refused to help him acquire the item, he attempted to,” she focused her remaining eye on Peters, “persuade me. This is the result. He was wrong, in that I did have access but not control, and that error killed him. I am not in a position to go into further detail, sir.”
She’d managed to keep her voice and emotions under control, but Joschka could read her body language better than any of the humans could and knew how difficult it was for her. He turned to the American officer, inquiring in a mild tone, “I trust you are satisfied, Major Peters?”
The man saw the fire and steel in Joschka’s hard blue eyes and nodded. “Yes, sir. I am.” Peters turned to the quiet woman. “Thank you, Miss Na Gael. This is merely a routine security procedure, and...”
“I doubt that, since the British did not require a physical inspection, but you Americans are different, I suppose.” Rachel’s i
cily polite interruption caught the major off guard and he frowned. She left him wondering as General Esthergorm waved to Hohen-Drachenburg.
“Get whatever paperwork and pictures are required, Colonel, and both of you join me in my office.” He nodded at them and left.
“This way, please, Miss Na Gael,” the colonel said as he led the way. «Please don’t cross swords with Major Peters, Commander. He can make things very unpleasant for everyone if he tells his superiors that we are stalling or not investigating the deaths properly.»
She raised an eyebrow but acquiesced. «Very well, sir. If he pushes too hard, I can’t promise that I won’t respond, but I’ll do my best, Colonel.»
They reconvened in General Esthergorm’s spartan office. “I trust Col. von Hohen-Drachenburg has briefed you on the situation, Miss Na Gael?”
She nodded, “Yes General.” She pursed her lips before continuing, “If possible, I’d like to see the reports of the initial discovery of the bodies and any autopsy reports. I’m also aware of the delicate international situation, General,” and the “Irishwoman” gave him a sympathetic and knowing half-smile.
Esthergorm wrote out orders for the people in forensics and security and handed them to Joschka. “The reports will be available in an hour, Miss Na Gael. Do you have any ideas as to the killer or killers, based on what you’ve seen thus far?” He sounded a bit harried.
“Nothing precise, General Esthergorm. I suspect that the men were lured into a trap and used as subjects for a test. Since they died, the test failed, if my suspicions are correct. Which could mean that the perpetrators did not know how to do what it was they attempted.” She frowned as she spoke, trying to limit what she said without lying. “I hesitate to speculate farther, General.”