by Pam Uphoff
Gauntlet, Betelgeuse . . . or had he found Jade herself in such a vulnerable spot?
Mag reached down as far as he could, picturing the frequencies like Rior always drilled them on. At the very bottom of his mental range he tossed the sleepy/dazed/dreaming-about-sex spell he'd copied off Tyrone. Ha! Slipped it right under her shields. He crawled under the brush with her and tossed an orgasm spell, reinforced the dazed spell. The baggy clothes suited her luscious body poorly, as she writhed face down on the ground in magical ecstasy. Grinning he pulled her pants down, pulled her up to her knees and took her like the bitch she was. And held the dazed and orgasm spells hard on her. Oh yeah, she was clenching like mad.
How can I control her the way she controlled me? This is the time to screw her mentally. He pictured cramming compliance into her brain with every thrust, and jacked harder. Came, and felt something, getting into her brain. Good little girl! Happy little girl! You just love to fuck me, little girl! Yeah, only Mag can give you deep screaming orgasms like this!
She took a deep breath, and he crammed her face down into the old leaves to muffle a scream.
He giggled. "Take that, you bitch!"
Oh, God of the Sea! I'm going to have to run, now, but it's worth it!
He pulled out and rolled her over to take her from the front, and only then realized he'd found a complete stranger. He cursed in annoyance, then laughed again. She feels like a witch, so she must be one of those "Magic Central" people. I'm screwing the King's Own. He pulled out the potions he'd wanted to try on a few witches. He gave her a swallow of all three, took a pull on his hip flask to keep up with her, then rode her good and hard. With a hand over her mouth to stifle the cries of ecstasy.
Spy on them, eh?
Can't let her go.
He wondered what it would feel like, to kill this woman while he fucked her. Maybe he could completely drain her . . . he couldn't hold it any longer and came, sending her power. Cutting her throat would be simpler.
It slowly percolated through his brain that perhaps there were more spies, and they were about to be raided. He flopped down on the woman and peered out at the mansion. Who was in the library . . . ::Franc. Get up and walk into the hallway where there are no windows. Get Rior to come with you.::
:: What, you got one of the tight asses to open her legs? :: Franc sounded pissed.
:: She's a spy. We need to get ready for a fight. But we have to do it where no one will see us doing it through the windows. ::
Rior came in directly then, cold and businesslike. :: Don't kill the spy, that's very detectable. Use that sleep spell, very very hard. Then . . . let's assume they're from Comet Fall, so they'll have their gods along with them. We'd better evacuate the children, just in case. Avoid the uphill gates, they must have found one long enough ago to set this up. We'll leave through the new downhill ones, if we can't win. ::
Mag could nearly feel Franc sweating, through the mental link.
He gnawed his lip. :: We need to fight them enough to slow them down. ::
Rior agreed, reluctantly. He was doing something in the background, giving orders . . . right, getting the youngest witches to collect the babies and run for the Calgary gate.
:: Mag. Find a place near the road down from the old gates, set a trap for troopers. They like to charge in. Trip the horses, stun the riders use your imagination. I'll start the women moving out the front door to the new gates. Franc, slide casually out the front door, and set up between there and the new gates. ::
Mag was surprised the cold bastard cared about the women—but then he needed them for the gates, didn't he? But the women cutting and running immediately . . . Yeah. Rior was right. The witches would all be worried about their precious babies. And those few seconds in the prison world, that pair on the black horses, the spells coming in big interconnected nets. If Falchion hadn't gotten the gate open right then . . . They could find another place, build a bigger mansion.
He wrapped his 'I love babies' spell around the spy, jacked a few times to pick up extra power, gave her a farewell series of orgasms, then sleep, sleep, sleep. With a snicker, he pulled off his shirt and wiped her crotch, pulled up her pants and fastened them. Guard, asleep on duty having naughty dreams. Nothing real happened. Surprise in nine months, assuming she survived the night.
He worked his way downhill to the road, and settled down in the brush. Ambush troops? He sure as shit wasn't going to leap out at them with a sword. Maybe a magical version of the old rope trick that was in all the stories about knights and cavalry. They'd be charging into the setting sun, limited visibility . . . . There was a dip in the road, where rainwater had cut across. He built up an illusion, covered the little channel with an illusion of flat dirt road. That would hold for hours. Then he shifted closer to the mansion. A good hard stun spell. If it didn't take out the riders, it'd get their horses. And a physical shield. A foot high, grounded and stretched in an arc to cover the road, and as it flattened, across the grass to the pool as well. Yeah. It'd be tough, but damned fun. He'd have to wait until the last moment for those two. If anyone came.
Rior may be paranoid. Maybe that woman just found us, and hasn't reported back. He grinned. I could keep her.
***
Franc sauntered casually across to the pasture and opened the gate. Left it open so the women wouldn't have to climb the fence or slow to open it. Casual stroll across the pasture, stop and pat a couple of horses. With his nerves screaming. The horses picked up on it, and galloped off. Then down to the lower pasture gate. Lean on it, as if he were admiring the sunset. Open the gate and stroll off toward the beach. How many Western magic users were on the way? If there weren't any gods. . . He set himself up on the south to cover the approach to the Calgary gate. The other two were new and barely explored. If he had to run for it, it was Calgary for him.
Uphill, the front door opened and the witches walked out. Ran out. Apparently they'd decided on speed over further dissimilation.
***
Garit looked up as Q stepped through the gate.
"They're running. They spotted something."
Garit jabbed a finger at Nighthawk. "Back to Disco. Tell the FBI to go now. Dagger. Same to Easterly." Garit turned to the troops. "Let's hit them hard before they make a Compass." Check cinch. Mount. Through the gate and two strides across to the corridor as Q was stepped back from it.
Acrobat leaped through and raced down the road, the troop at his heels.
***
Mag was shocked out of his daydreams about heading back up the hill to check on the spy by the horses leaping out of thin air. A corridor! He pulled power and threw a broad, hard stun spell. Two horses staggered, clogging up the charge but failing to produce his imagined pileup.
The shield spell he'd planned . . . he was jerked out of concealment and rolled . . . damn it, I didn't have time to anchor it. He'd already released it, but as he staggered to his feet, he could see three horses down, and others limping, riderless.
He threw himself flat and rolled away from the trooper who'd spotted him, swung at him, and dived between trees, threw fireballs, stun, sleep, orgasm . . . Horses squealed and threw their heads. Ha! Didn't expect that, did you? Mag wound between trees, heading for the coast and the gates. An officer yelled orders, and the troops got their startled horses back into line.
Mag left them to it.
***
Franc spotted movement behind the house. Figures in black charging down the hill toward the courtyard. He lost sight of them as they got down lower.
Franc watched the kids running across the pasture, the servants herding them. The youngest witches were between them and the house. The oldest, Teri, Jade, Smokey, Sunset, Dawn and Frost were striding away until the mounted troops appeared. Then they formed up their triads and waited. The riders were glowing, just five of them, mages and witches.
The front door burst open. The first fireballs flew. Too much of it was out of sight, and the rising sounds told him nothing. The wizar
ds piled out. Good and bad wizards together.
Rior stepping out of the door, throwing painfully bright flashes of power.
It was too dark and chaotic to tell from his distance, but he saw at least one witch crumple. The mares in the pasture were panicked, a thousand pounds of stupid ready to run over anything smaller in their path.
Bender got around the scrum and bolted for the pasture. A rider was hot on his tail and Bender threw spells that staggered the horse. The trooper vaulted off and ran at Bender, who stopped just past Franc and swung his sword. The Westerner parried high and snapped the sword across Bender's neck. Franc uncoiled, his blade sliding in under the guard's ribs and up into the heart. He gave it a vicious twist, then jerked the sword out and spun to face another rider. Ha! A woman. He threw the orgasm spell, and watched her absorb it with no more than a gasp as a slice tore at his own shields and then a fire ball, his body spasmed as something got through then a sword was descending . . .
***
Cursing from the Oners in the background, cut off abruptly as Tat jumped through the gate and sprinted through the second corridor. The Oners were right on his heels. As planned, one team veered left for the kitchen door, and the stairs up to the bedrooms of that wing. Less chance they'll catch anyone there, now. The other Teams would be going in the large patio doors after him.
Fireballs shot out the door, out a window to his right . . .
"No, damn it. Form up or we don't have a hope in . . . "
Eldon's voice. Damn it, both the strongest and the one I know best and like. Used to like.
Xen sliced to the right, shattering stone and window frame. Dropped his stirrups and used the horse's momentum to throw himself at the doors. Shield up, he rolled through the door low down. Movement in the dark, he threw the net of the goat spell at it. Twisted away from a half-seen blow and stabbed. Threw a fireball just to light everything up . . . Witch down to the left, young women and children running down a staircase and out the door at the far side of the huge room . . . A half changed goat trying to hold a broad shield between the fleeing children and Xen.
Men running toward him. Xen threw a slice. It shattered on shields, crackled away with explosions of damaged furniture. Dozen of little flash fires. Windows exploded inward as the Action teams joined the fight. Spells flew, bright in his mind, all individual, neither gang nor team taking the time to join up. Smoke burned his eyes, not thick enough to hide anything. Xen charged at the concentration of women, throwing stun spells as they raced through the door. The goat's nerve broke and he bolted after them, but still managing to hold wide shields. Xen's first fireball was absorbed, slice bounced, stun . . . then they were out the door, and Easterly's problem.
The Oners had half the wizards down, along with half the Oners. The other wizards had fled through various doors. The Oners on their feet split both directions to search, two were on Xen's heels as he raced up the stairs. A woman at the head of the stairs, glowing with magic, throwing a spell. A laser beam flicked through the smoky air. The witch collapsed, the spell hit the wall in a shower of dust. Xen cut left, threw a hard stun at movement. A witch collapsed. Gods! Practically a baby. With a baby! Dammit all! The rest of the wing was clear. He took a narrow flight stairs to the top floor. Deserted. Bubbles here and there. He ran down the hall.
Deflected a laser beam. "Xen!" he yelled. "Wing's empty!"
The Oner grinned. "Always wanted to do that. The house is secure."
"So what are we doing still inside?" Xen ran for the stairs.
***
Rael spotted women and children fleeing across a pasture. Other women, glowing with power, facing them. Six women standing in two close groups. Throwing spells.
The first push almost unseated her. Pyrite swerved to get under her without slowing a bit.
Rael heard a curse from Deena as she aimed her horse bodily at them. The horse threw on the brakes, hit a shield . . .
:: Triads. Very strong. :: The horse's voice echoed in her mind.
Rael felt the vibration, the frequency of the shield, matched it and threw a slice. One trio collapsed, only one woman screaming . . .
She turned to the next trio, but they were retreating, dodging panicked horses racing around the pasture, a dozen mindless menaces . . .
Pyrite grunted, his shields flaring high and hard. Laser and magic.
A man on the steps of the mansion . . . tall black haired. Familiar magic . . . with a twist of strange. Damn, that really is a sex change spell, because that's not a Princess, anymore.
Easterly and Yellow were after the trio of witches, Dominic and Deena were past them and heading seaward after the main crowd. A confused scrum of witches, wizards and Oners—the Teamers must have realized the mansion was nearly empty. Charging horses from the far side—something had delayed Garit.
Rael looked back at Rior. They probably can't even see her.
:: So? :: Pyrite charged, all three shields up.
Rael gathered power. Saw the man's head jerk around, recognition of another princess.
And suddenly the horse's mind reached out to hers and as Rael threw a fireball his energy shield opened a hole. Slice, through the opening of the physical shield.
The man threw fireballs back, trying to saturate the shield, briefly blinding them both.
Rael blinked, moving with the horse as he turned, galloping after the fleeing Oner, staggering as he hit a low shield. Leaping over it. Twisting to avoid a broadside crash with a loose horse.
Dammit, they're getting away!
Easterly and Yellow were throwing spells against a shield, the last of the gang holding it as they ran through a gate in the fence and cut left . . . was that a goat? Holding a shield?
:: Yes. Morphed. Good idea. :: Pyrite looked left and a running figure collapsed with a yell. Back to the right, another flash of power and the trio of women broke as one fell. The other two fled, more people running in, spells flying.
Rael gathered power . . .
:: No. Friends. ::
She threw the power at Rior instead. He shrugged it off, vaulted across the fence and bolted after the wizards.
He's getting away! Rael grabbed mane as she felt the horse's intention. He cleared the fence with a powerful leap and wound through bush, a path, charged a bright circle of daylight the wizards were backing through . . . swirling down as the goat leaped through last and it was gone.
***
Mantigo kept snugged down with the sniper rifle.
"It's total chaos down there, and everyone moving too fast." Chang was using the special optics.
Mantigo grunted. "And friendlies all over the background."
"Track right. Three women coming around the house toward us." Chang's voice trailed off a bit. "Foe. Veering toward the SWAT team . . . are they after guns?"
Mantigo focused down on one as she leaned over the motionless body . . . knife in hand . . . he squeezed the trigger.
"One down."
His second shot knocked a woman flat, but she rolled to her feet, unbloodied. "Magic shield. Damn."
"Hold your fire, friendly coming in from the side." Chang paused.
In his scope Mantigo watched a fireball exchange and suddenly the women collapsed in a bloody ruin. He shifted, spotted the third woman limp on the ground.
"No targets."
***
Xen and the last Oners were late to the party in the pasture. He ran past limp figures, slowed as Pyrite reported the last of the wizards gone, the gate closed. He veered to where Yellow lay limp and Peter was bent over Easterly.
"I've got them, those women dodged back around the house to the left though. Watch the knives, they're poisoned, and don't trust that they're out if they fall and lie still."
Xen raced around the north side, a Teamer on his heels.
"There were some women throwing spells out the back windows. They knocked down the FBI guys, then they ran. The two on the staircase, that we took out."
Xen lowered his mental shie
lds enough to contact the observers . . . nothing from Fuchsia. The Oner reported the SWAT teams safe.
He sounded a bit breathless.
:: You were supposed to stay out of this. :: Xen slowed as he spotted the bodies on the lawn.
:: They hit the non-magicians with spells until they finally got through, then these three decided to cut a few throats on their way to the uphill gates. ::
Bodies in dull black armor lay scattered about. A tall thin man in camouflage stood wearily in the midst of them. Hands empty, three women bleeding on the ground, knives fallen from limp hands.
"Ah, two of the Auralian assassins, and a witch. Good. Umm, good job." He took out a witch? By himself? Damn.
The man nodded. "Your sniper got one, I took out the other two. One of them is still alive." He listened. "It sounds like the fighting's over."
Pyrite, sounding irritated. :: The herd leaders got away. ::
"Damn."
Chapter Forty-eight
Fall Equinox 1399
Seaside
"Twelve captured, ten killed. Ten or fifteen escapees, depending one how you count the teenagers." Garit looked down at Dominic's covered body. "Damn it all. And Mirk, Fidel, Rior and Jade all got away. Or weren't there in the first place."
"Rior was there. Got away, dammit."
Garit made a note. "You were right about us needing more magicians, Xen. The ordinary troops weren't even road bumps."
"I didn't think they'd be that fast and prepared." Xen glanced over at Fuchsia. "I didn't think they could take a witch. I didn't think they could see you."
"Old Gods." She looked ill. "I felt something at a low frequency and started to look. Next thing I know it's three hours later and the battle's over."
Inso nodded. He'd refused the wine, and was taped and bandaged. "I've been in magical battles before, but nothing like that. Those witches were holding three shields and hitting through the gaps. Real pros, and there were six of them! The men had some absolutely visceral spells. Way off what I expected and shielded for. Distracting as hell in the middle of a battle. My guns were useless."