The Mask of Omegon (Gwen Farris Book 6)

by P. S. Power

  “I’ll go first. As soon as everyone is ready?” She’d pulled people before, so it wasn’t completely new to her. Doing them one at a time wasn’t even that hard. Certainly no more so than teletransporting herself to different locations.

  That meant, two minutes later, that they had a half-naked, very thin man being taken out of the room. The other women each took a turn each, led to do it by their handlers of the moment. Other Westmorlands that were telling them what to focus on. In this case it was the pictures in the file. Mainly high level military men. All of them had been tortured, but seemed to be strong enough to stand. At first.

  When Gwen got to the seventh person there was a bit of an issue. The man, who was bearded, disheveled and reeking of human waste, started screaming.

  “Put me back! Now! They’ll kill them if I escape!” He was clearly panicked. Not just a tiny amount either. The man stood there, seeming ready to go back into a tiny cage. At least he was hunched over, which meant that might be the case.

  Adam actually grabbed the man.

  “Count Morris?”

  “Put me back! The other men… We tried to break out, so some of us were separated. The enlisted. If any of the officers go missing they’ll be killed.”

  That caused a real issue then. Adam was clearly torn on a level that was nearly palpable. He had to put the man back, to protect the people on the ground. It was also an order, from a Count, apparently.

  On the other hand, doing that might well have the man himself be tortured or killed.

  Gwen nodded, since it was kind of clear that none of the Westmorlands were going to be able to get anything done on that score.

  “Adam, keep working on the others. I’ll…” She didn’t know what to do either. Sending the man back wasn’t happening, of course. That he was concerned about the others was simply the truth, it seemed however.

  The poor guy was starting to gibber a bit.

  “Count Morris! We need a map. Can you tell us where the people are? The other men? We need to know now! I can take two people with me. To where they were keeping you. Can we work from there? If we have weapons?”

  She had to repeat herself a few times before the man blinked at her, nodding.

  “Yes! Yes… If you go out the door, which is to the right, take out the guards, then… To the left, there’s a shed. All the others are in there. Ten of them. What…” He might have been a bit out of it, but the man wasn’t a fool. Shaking his head, he yelled again.

  “Right! Put me back. Then come in four hours. Make a plan. They’ll take me off for questioning then, you can use that time.” He didn’t seem to love the idea and Adam was about to freak out on them, his old eyes looking truly scared.

  Gwen shook her head.

  “Nope. Get me…” Again she didn’t know what she needed. Except that she had to do something. Desperately, she started to nod. “All right. I think I have this. I’ll go in alone. I… Leslie, give me your clothes.” She was bigger than Gwen, but not by too much. “Adam, get the back of this for me! Hurry!”

  It required stripping in public, but a few minutes later she was wearing a nice blue outfit. One that had trousers instead of a dress. The shoes were the same, but she’d been wearing flats. Not running shoes, unfortunately. Boots though, if nicer ones. Not the well-worn ones she used to jog in most days.

  The events were interesting after that, since a bleary looking Count Morris shook his head, seeming strained.

  “We… Can’t send you alone. We need men. Fighters. Or… I don’t know. This isn’t right. Sacrificing you helps no one.” There were tears in his eyes. No one there tried to look away, which was the first time Gwen had ever seen that kind of thing in the Western Kingdom. They always looked away.

  “Good plan. I’m not going to fight though. Not if I can help it. I need to do this right…”

  That meant going fast, ducking down to fit into the small cell that other man had just come from. She squatted, moved her information, then reeled from the stench of the iron barred cage. The room it was in wasn’t huge, like she’d been thinking. Instead it was about the size of the space that she’d just moved from. There were two more men in other cages, across the way. Only one of them looked up, going wide eyed.

  He had almost white hair and pale blue eyes that were visible from across the dim space. Holding his hand over his mouth he pointed with the other hand, to the right. By where the door was supposed to be. Then after she nodded, getting that she needed to be quiet and that was where the guards were, the man held up three fingers.

  Gwen did the same, nodding.

  Then she took a deep breath, still holding up three of her own fingers. She slowly put them down one at a time.

  When they we’re all down, she moved. Teletransporting the closest distance she’d ever even tried before. Three feet. From inside the small cage, to outside. That put the metal bars at her back and left her in the open. Squatting down, which caused the three men at the end of the building to turn toward her. They weren’t far away or anything, only about twenty feet.

  That meant only their grunts were heard as she pointed at them, using all the force she could muster. It took five power blasts, since one of the men tried to rush her, as the others fell. He called out something in Mongolian, even if he were about as white as she’d ever seen on a human being in real life.

  They weren’t alive, after a few seconds, however. They also hadn’t gotten a good yell off before doing that. Hopefully no one would be coming to check on the strange noise. They were all wearing very bright red outfits. Head to toe, the young men, who were all white where they weren’t covered with blood, wore scarlet.

  It was an odd choice for a battlefield. Then, these were prison guards, not soldiers in the field. That might be different.

  “Can you two move? We need to go and get the enlisted men… I can do that alone, I think. Move back from the bars.” She was going to blast the things open, but the man with pale blue eyes shook his head.

  “The keys are at the end. In the pocket of the one on the left. Left front side?” His voice was rough sounding. A mere whisper, which got her to be quiet as well.

  No one spoke the entire time she walked and then tried to dig in the front pockets of the man. It required rolling him over, which took some strength. He wasn’t a giant, but the man was built like a professional wrestler. He had to be nearly three hundred pounds, she figured.

  He did have the key however, so she was able to get the two men out. One of them, the silent one, had a broken leg. There was simply no way for him to do anything useful. Even hiding wasn’t going to be an option. Not really.

  “Fuck. Fine, I’ll take you back. Both of you. Not at one time. I can’t do that and still recover enough to fight. Even one at a time will be rough.”

  The broken man, who was still on the floor of the place managed a half smile. His face was too beaten on the other side for more than that.

  “Kill me. Take Hendrid here and get the men out. If you can. I can’t leave. I can’t take much more. It would be a mercy.”

  She nodded.

  “Good plan. Great, actually. Except that the king would have my ass for that. So, get ready?”

  She didn’t let the man speak again, just moving into his cage, touching his arm and then hugging him, half over his body. There was no time to rest when she got back however. Gasping she looked at Adam.

  “In… coming.” She was being optimistic, naturally.

  Then that was her way. Being all light and cheery.

  When she transported back into the cell, she had to fight, since two more men had come for some reason. They had weapons, crins, which meant she was hit in the right leg as she fired back. With her finger. It hurt, but was a burn, rather than flesh blasted away from her in a great red fountain. Which was better than it could have been. There was charred flesh, and pain, but she could move.

  “Hendrid. Come with me. I need to…” She was still gasping, forcing herself to move, without stop
ping to get sick. That part was hard. Her throat tried to close down, as she struggled for air and limped forward.

  Getting to the shed where the enlisted men were being kept was difficult, the thing being guarded. Hendrid, while great company, wasn’t much in a fight for some reason. Not that he didn’t try. Empty handed though as he was, all he could really do was get the guards, again dressed all in red, instead of being half naked like her new buddy was, to fire at him. Leading them away.

  The idea, clearly was for her to sneak in when they were gone.

  Instead, not wanting to run, she shot them in the back with energy blasts. This time she made little red dots appear, since it was kind of hard to focus. Her eyes were more than a bit bleary already, from the pain.

  “Hendrid. We’re clear.” She husked the words, forcing herself to sound better.

  The door was locked, but when she knocked, the guard inside helpfully came to open it for them. He spoke as he opened the door, sounding puzzled.

  “Hello! Have you heard the word of Cthulu?” The man might not have, but there was no time for him to answer, given that she blew the top of his head off with a burst of energy from her right hand.

  He was the only one in there however, which made sense when she got inside. There was only one cage, which was essentially just the front of the shed having bars that had been wedged into place along the roof. It wasn’t great, as far as construction went.

  There was no real door to the thing either. Just bars that had to be kicked out of place. Without an armed man there to stop them, they could have probably just walked away.

  “Um, guys? I’m going to have to take you out of here the hard way. Can we… Get someone to guard the door?”

  She didn’t know if anyone was going to volunteer for that. After all, whoever was last out was the one that would get left behind, if that happened.

  Which didn’t stop one of the men from waving.

  “I’ll do it. Get the rest… How are we doing that?”

  “Teletransport. I’m going to leave, then take you to the Western Kingdom, one at a time. I need to see your faces. Names, too. Everyone do this, in case I need a reminder. You, name?” She stared at one of the unshaved men. He had short hair, but half of them did.

  “Bill, ma’am.” He was going to go on, giving his full name and serial number, but that would just make things harder for her, not easier.

  The men went in order then, all eleven of them. It was Bill that had volunteered to watch the door, and die fighting if he had to. Thankfully he had the guard’s crin, so he wasn’t empty handed.

  She was still huffing and puffing, when she got back into the ready room with the Westmorlands.

  “Twelve. First up, Hendrid.”

  The man appeared, causing Adam to grab him, since he was about to fall down.

  “Rick.”

  The men came in quick order, with her only taking a break to vomit halfway through. By the end she was blacking out, of course, but kept going.

  “Bi…ll.” She managed to get him in just before she doubled over in pain. The world went dark then, but she was certain that he was in the room. She knew that since he shot the wall with a bright green light.

  Adam yelled at him a bit.

  “Hold! We’re friends! You’re safe now. Safe!”

  She couldn’t see what was happening then. There were sounds, but nothing else.

  When she came to, a short while later, she thought, she was in a different room. Being settled into a bed, while Rhonda the healer looked at her leg.

  “Crin blast. Aggravated by movement after the fact. Peter, come and heal this. Are you set to go back out soon?” That was for her, Gwen thought, not the young man who came into view.

  “No. I’m working in two days or so, as an airship loader. Not going into battle.”

  The woman, who had a nicely large nose and silky brown hair, nodded at her.

  “Good. You know what to do Pete. Close and make sure there’s no infection. Then use alternatives.”

  The boy, who was still only fifteen, nodded.

  “Got it. Let me get in here. Gwen, I’m going to have to touch you, is that good for you?” He looked at her like she was in any position to say no.

  “You’re just trying to get fresh with me, using the horrible leg wound as an excuse, aren’t you? I know how you are.” She didn’t sound that weak, for all her leg was killing her.

  The kid winked at her.

  “That’s it. Exactly. So, what do you say?”

  If Rhonda was scandalized it didn’t show, then the woman had left the room. Probably to help the others that had come in. There were about twenty of them. Most from different locations. Many had been tortured and beaten for a while.

  So she faked a smile.

  “Do it. Just know, I didn’t put on my cute underwear, so no peeking.”

  He didn’t, cutting the trouser leg off with a pair of scissors. Which meant that Gwen owed Leslie a pair of pants. Not that she hadn’t known that already. The second she’d been shot the idea had hit the back of her mind. Then, she could handle that. It was cheap even, as a cost for twenty lives. Or even one.

  Peter didn’t waste a lot of time healing her. That meant there was pain involved in the process. It wasn’t that the kid didn’t have skills, just that he was forcing her to heal faster than her body could take. Nearly so. That meant the wound stung, but when he was finished the pain was largely gone. Not that she was totally healed. She got a bandage, which was basically white gauze wrapped around her right thigh, if gently.

  The boy smiled at her then and patted her arm.

  “There we go. All right, I need to get back to work. Try to rest for a bit? Don’t use the leg too much? You have access to a healing bell at home?” The term was a new one to her, but she nodded, getting the idea. It was a machine that made sounds and put off healing energy. It presented as pure quackery to her, but it actually seemed to work.

  “Yes. I think we still have one around. I should probably check in with King Ferdinand before I leave. If Adam hasn’t?”

  “How do I know? I mean, they should run all their actions by me, but do they? Nope. Not even a briefing at the end of the day. I tell you, Miss Farris, this is a wickedly hard job at times.” He was playing with her, but still stood and gave her a hand up.

  “Rest. You don’t have to do it here. Will you be at Park Street tonight?”

  She nodded.

  “Sure? Unless something comes up.” That was her life in general, so she didn’t want to promise anything specific.

  Peter nodded at her, then patted her on the shoulder. It wasn’t taking liberties, but for the world they were in it was a clear sign that the boy kind of liked her. As in, wanted to have sex with her. She thought. Truly, she wasn’t certain on that score. Gwen also wasn’t going to ask. After all, he was only fifteen. That meant he needed to seek out women in a younger age bracket than she was in.

  Limping out, the worst of the pain already gone, she moved down the hallway.

  That took her to a room where Adam Westmorland was standing in front of a telestator. Next to him were several others. One of them had her dress on.

  Leslie looked good in it, so Gwen winked at her.

  “I’ll get you something to replace these? Keep that? Sorry about the damage.”

  The woman shook her head.

  “That was… Dangerous. Brilliant work, but not exactly safe. Going in like that.”

  The voice from the magical device, this world’s oversized and cumbersome cell phone substitute, hissed a bit. At first. Gwen realized it was a sigh, if a stressed one.

  “Miss Farris?” Ferdinand sounded a bit annoyed with her, which was probably fair. Rushing in like she had, alone, was stupid. She knew that one.

  “Here.” She waited for the dressing down, but that didn’t come.

  Not even a little bit.

  “Thank everything! I was told you took injury? That… Well, none can doubt it was a brave act. I’
d say foolhardy, except that you succeeded. Next time try to take a team with you?” There was a bit of real worry in the words. As if she didn’t have a lot to make up for. Even if it meant dying to do it.

  Twenty lives wasn’t a bad start, but it was only that. Katherine had created a debt too big for anyone to ever pay back. The only thing there was that almost no one seemed to think that she, Gwen, was supposed to take care of that part. No one else really could though. Kat Vernor wasn’t even allowed to try. Gwen got that part. The last time she’d been given any freedom at all, she’d used it to first try to kill her mother, using hired assassins, then managed to escape and betray them all to the Europans.

  If the woman had just moved away, things would have worked out better, but she was too good to get a job, or anything so mundane. In the entire world, the girl could have run anywhere. So naturally she went to the people that wanted to kill the same people that Katherine hated. Her friends and family.

  Gwen’s anyway. Kat didn’t seem to have many friends left, after the last few years.

  “Hopefully there won’t be a next time for that. It was… Stupid of me. I know that. I just didn’t know how else to get everyone. Which… I know that we’ll have to leave some of them behind. I just…” It was too hard to do that. Worse than killing them would have been.

  She’d killed people to get those men free, which didn’t bother her. Not even a tiny bit. That part was hard to understand for her. Those Europan guards had just been people. She didn’t hate them, even if they were keeping the good guys like they were. Not even for killing them. It was war. That was the game. That was probably the big part of things for her.

  A large part of her brain, in deep, thought that she was playing a game. Possibly on a computer. For most of her life she’d lived in fantasy of one type or another. That meant death wasn’t real to her. At least if she didn’t know the people first. That would be harder, naturally. The others were just bodies. NPCs that colored the background of her world. Non-player characters.

  Which was probably more than a little bit insane.

  The King spoke gently, sounding pleased enough for the day.

  “Good work. When will you be available for the next group? I can have files sent over immediately.”