by James Wisher
A messenger ran out the open castle doors and toward the gate not sparing them a glance. Damien absorbed the construct and led Leah to the castle. The guards let him through without a fuss, though they gave Leah a second look. The throne room doors were open as well. Four warlords, two on each side, stood at attention. From a distance he spotted Uncle Andy slumped on his throne with Jen on his left and Dad on his right. Whether to keep him safe or from falling off the chair Damien couldn’t say. The king certainly hadn’t had an easy time of it the past year or so.
His master was talking to Alden and Imogen, her face twisted into a particularly fierce scowl. What news had the two legionnaires brought that put the archmage in such a foul mood? All three sorcerers turned his way when he got close. One of the downsides of having such dense soul force: it made it impossible to sneak up on fellow sorcerers.
“Damien, who’s this?” the archmage asked.
“Leah, this is my master, the archmage. Master, this is Leah Walks-in-Sunshine. She was being chased by demon-possessed wolves. I had the good fortune to stumble across her just in time.”
Leah bowed. “Your apprentice saved my life. I’m very grateful.”
“Saving people is Damien’s job. Why did you bring her here?”
“Because you and the king really need to hear what she has to say. Hopefully it makes more sense to you than it did to me.”
“All right.” The archmage turned back to Alden and Imogen. “You two know what you need to do. Get going.”
The two Crimson Legionnaires bowed and rushed out of the room. Whatever their mission it must have been important. When they’d gone she asked Damien, “Do you want to give me a preview?”
“It’s about the earthquake. Apparently it wasn’t a natural event.”
The archmage’s eyebrows leapt at that. “You were right. I do need to hear what she has to say.”
His master led the way up to the throne. Uncle Andy’s head popped up as they approached and he managed a weak smile. “Damien. Everything secure beyond the wall?”
“As far as I could tell, Majesty. I ran into a minor difficulty, but it’s resolved now.” Damien gave him a quick summary of his meeting with Leah. “Go ahead, Leah. Tell them everything.”
Leah cleared her throat. “I suppose I should give you a little background. I’m a druid, a follower of the Green Path. We tend the wild places and make certain the earth force remains pure and flows as it should.”
“Earth force?” the archmage asked.
Leah nodded. “The energy that flows from the core of the planet and sustains all the things growing on it. That power flows in great rivers called ley lines that then branch into ever smaller flows that connect everything.”
“If so much power is flowing right under our feet why can’t we sense it?” The archmage asked the question Damien was thinking.
“The wise one says it’s because you’re too bright. Your power blinds you to what’s all around. It’s like staring into a fire at night. You can see nothing beyond it. Even people without power must spend many months meditating in the sacred groves before they become sensitive enough to see the earth force. It takes years to be able to manipulate it even a little.”
His master seemed ready to ask another question but Uncle Andy coughed. “Perhaps we could get to the point of what, exactly, brought you here.”
“Apologies, Majesty,” Leah said. “I’m here because someone or some ones have shifted a ley line. Subtle shifts at first, so that no one would notice. But a few hours ago they gave a great yank on the flow. That’s what caused the quake.”
The king leaned forward. “Are you saying someone caused this catastrophe on purpose?”
She shied away. “Yes.”
“And that’s what brought you here?”
“Not the earthquake specifically. I had almost arrived when that happened. The fact that someone was shifting the ley lines is why our leader sent me to ask for your help.”
Uncle Andy shook his head. “I’m not certain I understand. Can’t you just put it back where it belongs? What do you need our help for?”
“Druids have shifted the ley line, Majesty. We don’t know which ones. The wise one isn’t certain who he can trust. He determined it would be best to bring in outsiders to investigate. Once we deal with whoever betrayed the Green Path, the rest of the order can put the flows to rights. Please, can you help us?”
The king leaned back on his throne. “Please excuse us for a moment, Leah. We have a great deal to discuss.”
Damien escorted her to a bench at the rear of the throne room. When he turned to leave she grabbed his hand. “Do you think he will help?”
He patted her hand then pulled his free. “The king is a good man. If he can help I believe he will.”
“Thank you.”
Damien smiled and rejoined his master.
“Did you even know these druids existed?” Uncle Andy asked.
The archmage shook her head. “I’ve never heard of them or read about them in any of the histories. The girl is telling the truth, at least she believes she is. I swear in less than a year I feel like my whole world has shifted.”
“I don’t know about druids,” Damien said. “But those demon wolves were real enough and they wanted her dead. I can’t see anyone going to the trouble of siccing them on her if she didn’t know something someone didn’t want getting out.”
“It bears looking into, certainly,” Uncle Andy said. “If they can do this much damage to us, what else are they capable of?”
Damien glanced at Jen and raised an eyebrow. She nodded back.
“Jen and I could investigate. We have some experience with demonic matters.”
“Just the two of you?” Uncle Andy said. “I was thinking a bigger force.”
“No, Damien has the right idea,” the archmage said. “If a dozen sorcerers descend on them whoever’s responsible will just disappear into the group then pick up where they left off once we leave. If Damien and his sister go in alone they might not even be noticed or at least not recognized as a threat. Also, we need everyone to help with the cleanup and to protect against anyone taking advantage of our current vulnerability.”
“I suppose you’re right. Besides, if anyone can handle this, Damien and Jen can.” Uncle Andy sat back and sighed, looking far older than his forty-one years.
His master led Damien and Jen away from the exhausted king. “Be careful. That young woman doesn’t have a clue what’s really happening. Don’t depend too much on her.”
Leah bounced to her feet when Damien and the others reached her. “Has the king decided?”
Damien smiled. “My sister and I will be returning with you to investigate. We’ll set out at first light.”
Chapter 5
Alden and Imogen flew towards the merchant’s district. Carmen lived there with her parents in a modest two-story house on Scale Street. Alden didn’t expect to find Carmen home, but he hoped her parents might have an idea where she’d go if she was in trouble. Below them the wealthier section of the city hadn’t fared all that much better than the working class districts. Everywhere he looked buildings lay in shambles. No fires burned at least. Alden’s throat still felt raw from the smoke he’d breathed in. One thing about nature, she didn’t care how much gold you had.
“What do you think of the archmage’s new favorite?” Imogen asked.
“Damien? Seems like a nice kid. Works hard, doesn’t complain.” Alden shook his head. “He also scares the hell out of me. Some of the stuff he’s done in only a year doesn’t seem quite human.”
“Do you think she puts too much faith in the boy?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?”
Imogen’s lips quirked in what passed for a smile. “I think not. I’ve become quite comfortable in my position with the legion and have no desire to leave.”
“Good call. Besides, as far as I know Damien’s never failed on a mission. When you think what they’ve asked the kid
to do, that’s remarkable.”
“It certainly is. I believe that’s the Warren house down there.”
They landed and in the light of a conjured globe Alden compared the number on the post outside to the number on his scroll. “Yeah, this is it.”
No light burned in the windows. The curtains were open, but nothing moved inside. The house seemed pretty intact beyond some smashed windows. They’d gotten off luckier than some.
“You want to scout it or just head in?” Alden asked.
“These are just normal people, certainly no threat to us.” Imogen strode down the path, up to the door, and knocked. “This is the Crimson Legion! Open up in the king’s name!”
Alden joined her beside the silent house. “I thought you were against shouting?”
“There’s a time and place for everything. I sense no soul force inside, do you?”
Alden cocked his head and focused. He’d never been the best when it came to detecting others. He shook his head. “Nothing. What do you say we go in and have a look?”
“My plan exactly.” Imogen conjured a blob of energy and pushed it into the keyhole. The blob shifted into a key and popped the lock.
Alden sent a handful of lights in ahead of them. The foyer held nothing but an empty bench. They continued on into the kitchen. Alden opened a cupboard and found it empty. No dishes, no food, no sign anyone lived here.
“Are you certain this is the correct place?” Imogen asked.
“It’s the right address, but if a family of three lives here they’re the neatest family in history and they eat out a lot.”
The living room couch had a thick layer of dust matched by the one on the empty bookcase. The hearth was clean and free of ashes. Alden shook his head. No one had lived here in a while.
The second floor had three small, empty, dust-filled rooms. The only sign of life was a line of mouse tracks in one of the rooms. When they’d searched the house from top to bottom they returned to the foyer.
“This was a waste of time,” Imogen said.
“No, it wasn’t. We know Carmen lied about living here which makes her an even bigger suspect. Let’s see what the neighbors have to say.”
Alden walked to the next house over, a two-story building identical to the one they’d just searched. Light spilled out from drawn curtains that blocked the broken windows. A trickle of smoke rose from the chimney. He rapped on the door and a moment after Imogen joined him it opened.
A middle-aged man with a great belly and no hair squinted at them in the glare of their conjured lights. He looked first at Imogen. The men, and Alden reluctantly admitted, most of the women, always looked at her first. The man’s gaze shifted to Alden. “Can I help you?”
“We’re with the Crimson Legion, sir. What can you tell us about the house next door?” Alden pointed at the abandoned house so the homeowner would know which one he meant.
“Oh, the old Warren place. It’s been empty since the first part of winter. Old lady Warren died and no one’s been around since. Shame really. It’s a nice house.”
“Did Mrs. Warren have any family?”
“There was a young woman that used to come around maybe six months ago. Don’t know if she was kin or not and I haven’t seen her since the old lady died.”
Alden dug out the scroll. “About five foot six, slim, long brown hair, mid-twenties?”
“That sounds about right. I never talked to the woman myself. My wife caught me looking once and I ate nothing but beans for a week.” He offered a what-can-you-do shrug.
“Did you ever see the young woman with anyone else?”
“No.” The man pointed back up the street toward the castle. “She always came from that way and left that way.”
Imogen turned and walked away. The bald man’s gaze locked on her ass and a smile crept across his face.
Alden shook his head. “If Imogen catches you staring at her you’ll have bigger problems than beans for dinner.”
“Not very friendly, is she?”
“No, not very.”
“Great ass though.”
Alden stole a glimpse. “I can’t argue with you there.”
“You know, that reminds me. There was another person that came to visit the Warren place.”
“Oh?”
“A redheaded sorcerer. She had a nice ass too. Not as nice as your friend, but not bad. That was just a week before old lady Warren died.”
Alden’s stomach twisted. “How do you know she was a sorcerer?”
“When she left the house she flew away. Damnedest thing was, she was barefoot. There had to be a foot of snow.”
“Thank you, sir. You’ve been a big help.” Alden rushed to catch up to Imogen. “The redhead from Port Valcane was here a week before Mrs. Warren died.”
“Are you certain it’s the same woman?”
“How many redheaded sorcerers are there that like to go barefoot? It must be her.”
“If a known agent of Connor Blackman came visiting then Carmen must be our spy.”
Chapter 6
Imogen went to report to the archmage while Alden sought out Holly. He found her asleep in the little cot he’d set up for her right by the kitchen. The scents of baking bread and frying bacon mingled in the air and set Alden’s stomach rumbling. It had been close to twelve hours since he or Imogen ate anything. While his partner sometimes went days operating on nothing but anger Alden planned to grab a snack before they headed back out.
He looked down at Holly. Her mouth hung partway open and she clutched her pillow like a stuffed animal. She looked so peaceful he hated to wake her. Unfortunately they needed information and she was the person most likely to have it.
A gentle shake of her shoulder brought a groan and one open eye. When she registered his presence Holly rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Have you found Jonny?”
“Not yet. I hoped you could help me. Was there any place your brother and Carmen liked to go? Somewhere special?”
“You mean when they…you know?”
“That or just somewhere they liked to have a drink and something to eat. Maybe somewhere they went on a date. Anything you can think of that might give us a place to look.”
She tapped the tip of her nose, her face scrunched up as she thought. “Jonny didn’t talk to me that much about Carmen. It’s like he wanted to keep us separate. There was a bar called the Iron Pig where he went with the other guards sometimes, but I doubt he’d take Carmen there. It wasn’t fancy enough for her.”
“She liked fancy things?”
“Oh, yes. It seemed like every time I saw her she had a new silk scarf, or a new dress. I don’t know how she afforded it. After all she doesn’t make that much more than me and I couldn’t buy a new scarf if I saved for three months. Jonny didn’t buy it for her either. All his money went to keeping a roof over our heads and food in the kitchen. And now the roof is in the kitchen.” She let out a hysterical giggle.
“Do you know any of Carmen’s friends?”
“No. The girls in the linen room don’t like her. They always say she thinks too much of herself. Like she was better than them.” Holly shook her head. “I just don’t know.”
“It’s okay.” He patted Holly’s shoulder. “You’ve been a great help.”
Alden slipped into the kitchen, collected two bacon and egg sandwiches, and headed to the throne room. Imogen stood off to one side, arms crossed, scowling. If she didn’t let up her pretty face would develop some deep wrinkles. He walked over and handed her a sandwich.
“Thanks.” She accepted the food and took a bite.
When they finished eating Alden said, “What did the archmage have to say?”
“Not much beyond keep at it. She sent three of the others to patrol the skies in case the redhead shows up to collect the urn. Damage reports have been coming in pretty steady. Sounds like just about every building in the city took some damage, but deaths have been minimal.”
“Thank heaven for small mercies. Holly d
idn’t know much else, though it sounds like Carmen wasn’t very popular with her fellow workers. If any of them know anything they’ll probably tell us.”
“Let’s find out.” Imogen led the way over to Dale Allen.
The tired old seneschal was dozing on a bench on the far side of the throne room. If Imogen had any qualms about waking him she gave no sign. She bent over and shook him.
Dale sputtered and sat up. “Yes?”
“Where might we find the ladies that work in the linen room?” she asked.
Dale yawned. “That’s a day job. I suspect you’ll find them at home cleaning up. I can look up their addresses if you like or you can wait a couple hours. They should all be in at dawn.”
“We’ll take the addresses,” Imogen said in a tone that added, now.
Chapter 7
Besides Carmen three women worked in the linen room. They called themselves “the linen ladies” and conveniently for Alden and Imogen they all lived within a block of each other on Steak Street near the slaughterhouses. Their street ran right along the outer wall as the slaughterhouses were built up against it. When Imogen questioned Dale he said each building had a grate that drained into the sewer to allow blood and offal to wash out of the city. He’d hastened to reassure them that the grates were fixed in place and that two more secured the exit from the city. Not to mention the drains were only a foot in diameter. Far too small for a person to slip through. Alden had shared a look with Imogen and thanked Dale before the two of them rushed out into the city yet again.
“What a mess,” Alden said.
He and Imogen floated in the sky above Steak Street surveying the damage. The working class district had suffered the greatest damage they’d seen so far. Whole blocks lay in ruins. Only the slaughterhouses themselves, being built of stone, had escaped the worst of the damage.
“It’ll be a miracle if they’re still alive to be questioned,” Imogen said.