"Spells? Laid on what?" Alken asked. A spell had to be laid on something.
"They're in the walls," Qatti whispered. "Every wall in the place, according to the boss. It's like we're invisible, here."
"You still haven't told me where we are," Alken whined.
"We won't tell you—not now," I interjected smoothly. "Eventually, you'll know—that, and the boss's name, too. For now, keep your head down and do as you're told. In between, you can eat, drink and do whatever you want here at the compound. Just stay out of arguments or fights—the boss will get rid of all of us if you do that."
"We can't afford to be sent away," Qatti added. "We're protected here, and we're paid. I don't want to give up either of those things, unless the price is right."
"Let's see who Staggs' agents are," I tapped Alken's comp-vid. "We'll work on making the price right."
Avii Castle
Randl
"I hope you don't mind sharing the suite—it has separate bedroom and living quarters on either side of the balcony," Quin led us through the door. Teren and Franc, Zanfield's agents, walked with the rest of us, amazed by thick, glass walls of multiple hues.
"The whole thing is made of glass?" Teren asked.
"The base structure, yes," Quin turned to smile at him. "There are other materials laid over it in places—wood and such, like for the doors and furniture. The glass is said to be impenetrable. You're on the third level, so not a lot of stairs to climb to and from the dining hall. Feel free to eat with the guard, if you want," Quin went on. "If you'd like, you can work out with them. They have hand fighting and blade practice four days out of every eight-day."
"What do they do on the other days?" Teren asked.
"Flying drills—formation, midair battle training, practicing pulling not-so-smart tourists from the water—that sort of thing. They all have two days off per eight-day, too."
"I wouldn't mind working out with the troops—when they're on the ground," Franc said.
"I'll let Ardis know—he's in charge of the troops," Quin replied. "He may visit you in the next day or so. Between now and then, make yourselves at home. If you'd like a tour of the castle, I'll send someone to guide you through it."
"What about Pauley? I wouldn't mind seeing the boy again," Teren said.
"He's near the top, in the main Library. Gurnil, our Chief Librarian, is teaching him, now that Alken's foul spell is gone."
"That's what Randl told us," Teren nodded at me. "That Pauley's uncle did that to him."
"Is it possible to go ashore and visit the cities?" Franc asked.
"I'll make someone available to take you; you only have to ask," Quin said. "Go to Niff's, first thing. The ice cream and sweets are heavenly."
Chapter 12
BlackWing XIII
Randl
"Jincus, what can I do for you?" I asked. He'd come to the table where I was having breakfast with Dori, as if he were warily approaching a superior who could fire him at any moment.
"I'd like to ah, train with the others," he began. His hands were much cleaner, now, and his black and silver uniform was also clean and neat. He liked it, I could tell, and held himself straight and proud while dressed in it.
"You mean hand fighting and such?"
"Yes. And with your permission, with firing pistols and handling blades. I watched those Falchani go after each other. I've never been so impressed in my life."
"Ask Markus to take you on—he's training Miz, too, on most of those things. Master what he has to teach you and I'll let you approach Vik about training you with blades."
"Jincus. Want coffee?" Gerrett walked up to place a pot of tea on our table.
"Join us," I slid a chair out with power. Blinking, Jincus took the offered seat and nodded at Gerrett.
"Gerrett likes you. He doesn't speak often to anyone," I told Jincus.
"I'm still trying to get used to this. I figured I'd be sitting in jail, somewhere, after I didn't get blown up like some of the others did. And not for the reasons you might think," he added.
"We know you didn't have anything to do with that explosion," I held up a hand. Without a layer of ancient dirt and grease on his skin, Jincus looked much younger. Probably seventy-five or so, and in his prime. His hair, a sandy red, was thick, clean, and combed neatly. When I first saw him, it had been just as dirty as his hands, from raking fingers through it often.
Gray eyes studied me—to him, I was an anomaly and he still didn't understand why he was now working as a pirate sponsored by the ASD. Regardless, the whole idea appealed to him greatly.
After all, who didn't dream of being a pirate at least once in his life?
"Where are you from?" Dori asked as Gerrett set a mug of coffee in front of Jincus.
Jincus rolled his shoulders uncomfortably for a moment. "Most of my family was on Vic'Law when it was destroyed," he confessed. "I'm not a legitimate citizen of either Alliance. That's why I thought I'd be hauled off to jail. My brother and I stowed away on a ship leaving the planet about two years before the planet was destroyed. Back then, it was either work for a criminal or ruin your health and wreck your life, trying to make a living in hiding or off the soil. Our father died at the hands of the criminal boss he worked for; we decided we wanted something better. We hid ourselves aboard a freighter and eventually made our way into the Alliances."
"Where's your brother, now?" I asked.
"Dead. He was on Campiaa when they got hit not long ago. His body was barely recognizable when it was recovered from the casino where he worked."
"Damn," Dori swore softly.
"Well, Jincus, the one who's ultimately responsible for your brother's death is also our number one target. Glad to have you aboard. Stick with us; we intend to take that bastard down," I said.
"Thank you," Jincus whispered, wiping moisture from his cheeks.
"I think we may be able to do something about your citizenship, too," I shrugged. "Le-Ath Veronis offered for most of those who were rescued from Vic'Law before it blew apart. I think we can grandfather you into that arrangement."
"I heard about those," Jincus ducked his head. "I didn't think I'd be eligible, since I wasn't with them. You'd have to know the Queen, I think, before anything of the sort could happen."
"Hmmph," Dori snorted a laugh.
"Jincus, I think we can get you in—if you want to keep working with us, that is."
"Please—I think this is exactly what I want to do."
Queen's Palace, Le-Ath Veronis
Travis
"Randl approves of him?" Mom studied the images we had of Jincus—both before and after the grease spill.
"Randl offered him a job immediately."
"Good. I can get him grandfathered in with the others. Tell Randl I'll have the paperwork done in a few days. Officially, he just became a citizen today, but the files have to be placed in the archives."
"I hope Kooper doesn't have a fit about this," I said.
"Kooper doesn't have anything to say about each planet's naturalized citizenship, provided the candidate isn't a known criminal. If Randl gives him a clean record, I think we're safe."
"David likes him a lot, too. Says he's really good with engine repairs and such."
"If he wants to apply for housing on Le-Ath Veronis, tell him to submit a request to Renée. She'll get it to me for approval."
"Thanks, Mom." I leaned in to peck her on the cheek. "I think he'll be so happy it'll overwhelm him."
"Anything new on the Prophet front?"
"Nothing, but we've got feelers out everywhere, and we're going to Pyrik to see if we can pick anything up in Lee'Qee."
"That cesspit? Make sure everybody is triple-shielded."
"We're on it," I grinned at her.
Lee'Qee, Pyrik
Randl
"I'm not so sure this was a good idea." Vik shook his head at the devastation of Lee'Qee before us. We stood on the edge of the deepest pit, where the worst of the blast damage lay. There, only th
e occasional concrete wall or metal fixture emerged from the dirt and debris. While Vik, as a High Demon, wasn't susceptible to radiation sickness, I shielded him so he wouldn't carry anything back to the ship.
The others with us, if they couldn't form their own shields, wore protective gear and a shield I'd provided on top of that. Bel Erland, standing not far away, frowned at the pit of rubble before us. Perri stood close to him, as if she felt obligated to provide protection for the Crown Prince of Karathia.
Nari and Tiri stood near me, waiting for my signal so they could start digging.
"Do you feel something?" I asked them.
"There's a vibration here, certainly," Tiri replied.
"What about you, Perri?" I turned to her.
"There are several signature scents here, but most are ancient."
"Likely when the spells were first laid to hide Lee'Qee," Travis observed.
"That feels right—it goes back centuries, I think," Perri agreed. "There may be something newer, but I'd have to get closer to the location of the spell to know for sure."
"Let's go, then," I nodded to my crew. "Watch your step—we don't know what's out there or whether there are still traps waiting."
"You trying to scare us or something?" Vik lifted an eyebrow at my statement.
"I'm scared," I said. "I didn't even have to try very hard. I could have died here, remember? The Prophet did his best to end me."
"I read the report in Kooper's files," Vik sighed. "Come on, let's go have a look." We began our trek downward into the pit, Mak and Jak so close behind me I could hear them breathing.
Nari
The vibration was like a beacon to us—somewhere in this wretched, demolished ruin, ancient gold lay. When Randl gave the word, Tiri and I strode toward it as fast as we could, while watching where we placed our steps. Somewhere behind us, Randl, Vik and the others followed. My sister and I'd become like hounds to a scent, however, and strode ahead of them quickly.
For Tiri and I, gold had become a vibrational standby—we'd found so much of it in the past we could feel it from a distance if it were there.
A strong signal emanated to the northeast of where we began our trek into the pit. Somewhere to the sides and behind us, the others fanned out, looking for any likely object that might give us a clue to the Prophet's whereabouts.
A half-buried metal rod caught a leg of my uniform, so I stopped to pull the fabric away from it. Tiri, who'd gone several steps past me, screamed as the ground suddenly caved beneath her feet. Shouting came from the others as I hopelessly reached out to her.
In ghastly slow motion, I watched the dirt and filth swallow her scrabbling body, while clods, pebbles and detritus rained down after her. A sickening, metallic clang sounded as Tiri hit the bottom of a black pit.
Terrified, I screamed Tiri's name. When I received no reply, I shouted for Randl and the others. The gaping hole spread before my eyes, and before I could back away, the cavern's maw opened wider and pulled me into throat-clogging darkness with my sister.
Randl
At least my shield around Vik expanded to cover his Full Thifilathi; before anyone else could react, the winged, black-scaled High Demon was digging into the cave-in, huge, clawed hands pulling out limp bodies in only seconds.
It felt like forever.
"They're not breathing," Travis shouted at me as he raced past, Bel Erland right behind him.
Quin, I need your healing ability, I sent.
I have to find someone to transport, her mindspeech came immediately.
No, lend it to me. Shove it into your communication, please.
I don't know how. Can you pull it to you?
I think so. Prepare yourself.
Travis
By the time Randl reached the bodies, he was glowing brightly—as I'd seen Quin glow in the past when she'd healed someone.
Vik, still in Full Thifilathi, held a body in each massive hand, a frown of concern on his face as he waited for Randl to do something.
Randl motioned for Vik to bring his hands closer together. Once that happened, Randl placed a hand on each woman's chest. The power expended was so bright it was blinding.
Tiri coughed first, followed by Nari. I folded space to stand beside Randl, to give him a hand if needed.
"Welcome back," Randl smiled at the twins.
"There's gold down there," Tiri's croaked. Her hand shook as she touched her forehead. "A lot of it."
"Vik, can you get them back to the ship?" Randl asked.
"I'll transport them," Bel Erland offered.
"What the," Nari blinked as Vik's clawed hand moved slightly beneath her body.
"Nothing to worry about," Randl held up a hand. "Vik's High Demon pulled you out of that hole pretty fast. He and Bel will get you back to the ship, where you'll be checked over by the med-bot in the infirmary. You can rest and eat after that."
"What about the gold?" Tiri demanded.
"We'll get it, don't worry," Randl said. "Good work, by the way. You led us straight to it."
Vik nodded to Bel, who folded space with him and both women.
"I feel something coming from that hole," Perri sounded timid.
"A warlock or witch's power?" Randl turned to her.
"No. Something—different. I don't know what it is, but there's a power-scent to it. A strong one. It didn't reach me until this hole opened." She held up a handful of dirt she'd collected from the edge. I was grateful she had a shield placed between that dirt and her hand.
"That's not scary," I told her. "Are you still planning to go down there?" I asked Randl.
"No. I think I'll remove the entire thing and dump it out on Ca'Lex," Randl said. "If there's another trap, we can stand back from it," he added.
"Good plan," Perri agreed. I could tell she didn't want to be swallowed and strangled like Nari and Tiri had been. She dropped the dirt she held and cleared her hand of debris with a quick spell.
That caused me to wonder—had there been a spell around the gold—to trap and choke anyone who happened on the cache? I'd ask Randl that question later.
"Ready?" Randl turned toward me. I nodded. Holding out his hands, Randl employed his power to separate a rather large section of the ruins from what surrounded it. In moments, he, his bodyguards, Perri and I stood on Ca'Lex, while Randl let the enormous glob of ruins fall.
It dropped with a resounding, metal-rending crash, and if we hadn't been heavily shielded from even a quarter-mile away, the shockwave from the released spell would have killed us.
BlackWing XIII
Randl
"It takes time to spell individual coins," Bel Erland set the gold disk on my desk. It was one of thousands—perhaps hundreds of thousands, that I'd pulled away from the dirt and debris I'd dropped onto Ca'Lex.
"You're saying none of the coins was spelled?"
"Perri says there's nothing, and I haven't found anything in that sample pile you have, there," he pointed to the mound of gold on my desk. "It was a hoard, guarded by a spell, yes, but Nari and Tiri set off the preliminary spell, and you destroyed the secondary one."
"Why didn't the Prophet take this with him?" I mused, not expecting an answer.
"He probably thought it safe enough there—the place is quarantined, remember, and without shields, or the knowledge that it was there to start with, I figure it would be hidden well enough—with the spells around it, of course."
"Except we managed to get past all that," I said. "Nari and Tiri say there's nothing they've seen so far in that hoard that's less than a thousand years old."
"Then each of those coins is a museum piece, worth much more than its equivalent weight or face value," Bel Erland said.
"They also say that some of the coins aren't anything they've seen before."
"From dead civilizations that have no written history?"
"Either that—or they never existed in these universes."
"What?"
"I'm just giving you a theory, that's all."
/>
"It's a terrifying theory."
"No joke," I grumped. "I think I need to speak with the Larentii Archivist. If anyone knows—he will."
"Zaria is his daughter-in-law; ask her. Does Perri have any idea on who or what may have laid the spell on the cache?"
"It's nothing she's ever felt before. Not a warlock, witch or any wizard, she thinks."
"What does that leave, then?"
"The really powerful? A sorcerer, maybe?"
"You think the Prophet did it."
"I think it's possible."
"If he did, then he knows the cache was compromised."
"I worry about that, too. Here are my thoughts on that, though. If he had gold, why is he stealing everything, including food? He could buy whatever he wanted on the black market with that kind of currency. Gold, platinum, jewels and such are happily accepted by criminals everywhere."
"I don't have an answer," Bel Erland said. "It's something to think about, though."
"There's the possibility that even the Prophet didn't know about the gold. We have no idea how long he used Lee'Qee as a base of operation, or whether he even stayed there much at all. I get the idea that he didn't—that he only visited now and then."
"Then someone else may have hidden their treasure there, long before the Prophet came along?"
"Maybe."
"Someone whose power signature Perri doesn't recognize."
"That, too," I agreed. "I can put my hands on some of these coins to look for information, but I hesitate to do so."
"I'd be wary of it, too. Who knows where you could end up?"
"And that's what worries me most."
"Yeah."
"Commander?" Zanfield rapped on my door.
"Come in, Zan. We're just finishing up," I invited.
"Director Riffler arrived a few minutes ago. He's in the infirmary, talking with Nari and Tiri," Zanfield announced.
"No surprise," I smiled at Zanfield. "Let me know if he needs to see me afterward."
Avii Castle
Quin
"I'm fine," I waved Dena's concern away. "Randl borrowed some of my healing ability. I just feel hungry and thirsty, now."
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