Chapter Ten
Brighten Alanon saw the ships before anyone else. He saw them because his eyes were sharper than anyone he’d ever met, and although he was only fifteen, he thought them probably sharper than anyone in all of Sidnie. Truth be told, he thought both his eyes and ears were the sharpest in the whole kingdom.
“What the fuck is that?” he asked Kris.
“What’s what?”
Kris was the same age as Brighten, and they’d known each other for as long as either could remember.
“Them ships out there. Ya don’t see ‘em?”
“Hell no, I don’t see ‘em. Why you think I hang out with you, Brighten? Because your personality is so good? I’m here because you’re the best lookout in the city.”
Brighten punched her in the shoulder, a light thing because he hadn’t taken his eyes off the ships.
Brighten and Kris lived on the streets, and right now they were sitting on top of one of Sidnie’s condemned buildings. Most other people would have been far too frightened to climb up to the roof, but Brighten and Kris knew Sidnie’s underbelly like they knew themselves.
They understood every false step on nearly every roof in the city.
“That’s too many ships,” Brighten whispered.
And it was. Sidnie had a port and ships came and went, but never this many, and never in a line like that.
“How many?” Kris asked without looking up from her game of cards.
“Ten.”
Kris did look up then. “Quit lyin’, boy, or I’mma beat you blue. There ain’t ten ships comin’ this way.”
“You’ll hear sirens soon.” Brighten was hardly paying attention to his friend. He couldn’t pull his eyes from the ships. “This isn’t normal.”
He stood up.
“Whadda we do?” Kris asked, standing up and forgetting about the cards.
“Hell if I know.”
“Boys are idiots,” Kris snapped. “Come on. We need to get away from the port.”
The two left the top of the building, racing down the streets they knew so well.
“Where ya goin’?” another street urchin called to them.
“Run!” Brighten shouted back.
“Have you ever seen Sidnie before?” Rendal asked.
The sun hurt Mason’s eyes. He hadn’t seen it in long days, having been kept below in the cages. He was dirty and exhausted, but he knew he had it better than the other people he’d seen. They were being drained.
“No,” he answered the mage.
“It’s really something, isn’t it?”
Mason had to admit, even if only privately, that the mage was correct.
The city spread out before him, large towers jutting into the sky. Its buildings dwarfed New Perth’s, and Mason found himself amazed that they could construct such things.
Reading his mind, Rendal said, “They used magic—the same magic New Perth refused.”
A siren was blaring.
“They’re gathering their military.” Rendal stood at Mason’s side, no grin on his face. Mason didn’t know what kind of magic he was using, but the mage’s eyes were red. “They’ve spotted us, and we’re both a large force and unexpected. They’ll be ready for battle by the time we get there.”
“A city that size…” Mason’s voice trailed off, and he gazed at the mage. “You’re going insane. Do you realize that? You’re losing your mind.”
Rendal still didn’t smile. His face was focused. “No, I’m not. You may be right in what you’re thinking, though. A city of that size would be very difficult to overtake, even given my powers and my army, but I won’t be doing it by brute force, my dear Mason.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll show you when I’m finished,” the mage answered. “Harold, please take our guest back down.”
Harold grabbed Mason roughly and pulled him away.
Rendal stood alone on the deck. He was only partially there, though—only his body remained. His mind was in Sidnie, watching the military scramble to ready itself.
Sidnie’s Prefect was coming down from his tower, his aides having alerted him to what was going on in his kingdom.
Rendal had heard of the man—Sidnie’s Prefect. His name was Lawrence Slidell, and he was newly ascended.
Sidnie’s Prefect had to be proficient with magic, and usually was the greatest user in the kingdom. They had actually followed through with Rendal’s plan without knowing it.
Rendal couldn’t gain access to the man’s mind without alerting him to his own power. Rendal had no doubt that he could infiltrate the Prefect, but as he told Mason, this wasn’t a brute-force mission.
Harold returned from jailing Mason.
“Sir, what would you have me do next?”
“I’m commanding the other ships to remain at this distance and go no closer to shore. Only ours is going forward. I want you to let the men on board know that. Also, they’re going to inspect the ship, without a doubt. Under no circumstances is anyone to make it to the cages. You understand?”
“I do, sir. No one will see them,” Harold answered.
Rendal’s eyes returned to their normal color. “Good. We’ll arrive in the next thirty minutes. Prepare the ship, and meet me on deck.”
“Sir?” Harold was perplexed.
“Yes. You’re coming with me. I’m a merchant, those ships out there are mine, and I’ve come to Sidnie personally because I want to start a favorable relationship with them.” Rendal smiled and looked at Harold. “You’re my accountant.”
“Accountant?” Harold asked.
“How are you with numbers?”
“I’m better with my sword.”
Rendal laughed. “Indeed you are! Tell me, Harold, do you think you could kill William? The other Right Hand?”
“I believe I could, yes,” Harold answered.
Rendal turned again, his smile fading. “That’s what I wanted to hear. I hope you’ll get a chance to prove yourself right soon. Be ready, Harold, because that man is dangerous. If you fail, I don’t think you’ll have to answer to me.”
He smiled once again.
“Because you’ll be dead.”
Worth wore a large pack on his back.
Riley had almost throttled the bald man when she found out what was in it, but then she’d just started laughing.
She hadn’t been able to help it.
Rather than packing provisions and weapons and other survival gear, the man had lined the pack with leather and filled it to the brim with wine.
“Twocut’s wine good. Too good to leave. Worth take.”
The pirate had let him have it, saying “I stole it off some merchant. Pirates don’t drink the shit.”
Worth was happy with that, and to his credit, he wasn’t stone-drunk as they crossed through the desert.
Riley and Eric were both clothed from head to toe to keep the sun from blistering them. Worth looked the same as always, his bald head deep brown and needing very little protection from the elements.
This is his home, Riley thought.
William and the crew had dropped them off a day ago. No tears, but lots of hugs and handshakes, nearly everyone unsure if they would see each other again.
They’d traveled in silence for a long time today, and it was nearing noon. Worth walked in front, stopping briefly to refill his chalice from time to time but otherwise forging onward.
Riley was impressed that Worth never spilled the wine, walking in all this sand.
She followed him, and Eric followed her.
Riley was tired of not knowing what the hell was going on, though, so she jogged forward and caught up with Worth.
“Who are these people?”
The bald man didn’t turn as he spoke, his eyes narrow and staring straight forward. “Underground people.”
“You keep saying that, Worth, but I don’t know what the hell that means. Do they actually live underground or is that a metaphor?”
“Worth no
know metaphor,” he answered.
“Do they live beneath the sand? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Yes. That what Worth telling you.” He grinned, and Riley understood he was mocking her.
She grinned back. “Hush. How do they live underground? Is that even possible?”
Worth shrugged. “I never ask.”
“How do you know them?” Riley said.
“Everyone in Badlands know of ‘em.”
It was a delicate difference, but Riley caught it. “Wait, you don’t actually know them?”
Worth shook his head. “They underground. Worth above ground. When we meet?” He sounded as if this should be apparent.
“Well, where are they?”
Another shrug. “Worth no know.”
“Worth! How are we supposed to get there if you don’t know them or where they are?” Riley could hardly believe what he was saying.
“They know we here. They contact.” He spoke as if he had no concerns at all.
“How?”
“Too many questions. Know that?” Worth glanced at her, clearly annoyed.
Riley glanced behind her at Eric. The young man’s face was covered so she couldn’t tell if he had heard anything, but she doubted Eric missed much.
“How will they know we’re here?” she asked, turning back to Worth.
“You not so quick in desert, aye?”
“Huh?” Riley asked, right before she smelled them. Her head whipped up, looking toward the new scent.
“Out here, my place.” Worth smiled. “You smell them, betcha.”
She did. The wind was blowing toward them, and she was shocked that Worth had known these strangers were here before she did. Her senses were always first in class.
She scanned the desert, and she thought she could just see something in the distance, although it was hard to tell. The sun caused everything to waver like a mirage.
“Is it the underground people?” she asked. She hadn’t drawn her sword yet; they were too far away for that.
“No. What come before underground people.”
“And who the hell is that, Worth?” Riley snapped.
Worth smiled wide. “Raiders.”
“Oh, great,” Riley responded, shaking her head. “Ya know, Worth, it might have helped me make my decision if you’d told me everything we would be facing before we faced it. I might have just decided to chase Rendal.”
“Then where fun at?” He laughed.
She grinned. In reality, she was itching for a fight, especially after what had happened with Rendal. She didn’t like losing, and while she hadn’t technically lost against the mage, she hadn’t won either.
Riley wasn’t scared of Badlands raiders. On the coast they were called bandits, and Riley had regularly cut them down like a blade does wheat.
“What do we do?”
Worth shook his head. “You simple, Riley. Magic, yes, but simple. We wait. They come to us.”
Riley opened her mouth to say something, but Worth shook his head. “Enough question. Let Worth have peace!”
He walked faster, and Riley couldn’t help but laugh at the man.
They went on for another hour, and Riley caught the raiders’ scent every now and then. She was surprised to be able to smell them, especially at such a distance, but she knew it was true.
It wasn’t a bad smell per se, but an odd one.
Something she hadn’t smelled before.
Finally, Worth came to a stop without saying anything. Both Riley and Eric walked to him and then halted.
“One, we protect wine. Raider no get wine, understand?”
He looked at them with a seriousness Riley rarely saw from the man. She wanted to laugh but thought he might take offense. He wasn’t playing games about his booze.
“Sure, Worth. We’ll both die for the wine if that’s what you want,” she answered. “Why are we stopping, though? I still don’t see anyone.”
“You never make it in Badlands, Right Hand. You too soft.”
“He’s right, little lady.”
The voice came from nowhere. Riley’s sword was out of its sheath and in her hand before the voice finished.
“No move,” Worth said. “Stay.”
Riley saw that Eric’s sword was clear, too, though no fire covered it yet.
“Go ahead and put the weapons down,” the voice spoke again. It was strangely mechanical but sounded like a man’s.
The smell had grown stronger too.
About ten feet in front of her Riley saw green stones, what Erin called amphoralds. They seemed to appear from nowhere and hung right in the middle of the air, attached to nothing.
“What is that?” she whispered harshly.
“No move.” Worth’s face was grim.
More green amphoralds lit up in a circle around them, and Riley was finally able to make sense of the smell.
Something’s burning, she thought.
“Weapons down!” the mechanical voice shouted, though it was more human now.
“I don’t drop my weapon for anyone, let alone a ghost,” Riley shot back.
The world around her shimmered slightly; it made Riley nauseated for a second.
The shimmering grew in intensity, then quit all at once.
Twelve men and women surrounded the three of them.
Worth smiled. “That okay. Not too many.” He looked at Riley. “They no magic. They just pretend.”
“What the hell does that matter, Worth?”
He smiled bigger. “It matter. They no magic. We magic.”
“Enough with the talk,” the man in front commanded. “Put the fuckin’ blades on the ground and give us your packs.”
The one talking was heavily muscled. Riley quickly flashed glances at the others. They were all thinner but looked at be in decent shape. These people weren’t starving to death.
Riley didn’t understand how they had simply appeared, but she also didn’t have time right now. There was ass to be kicked.
“Eric.” Worth was smiling since he could see the raiders. “Put sword down.” The bald man proceeded to sit down in the sand, folding his legs under him. He looked at Eric. The kid wasn’t putting shit down.
Worth sighed. His eyes lit red for a second and the sword flew into the ground, burying itself hilt-deep in the sand.
“What the hell are you doing, Worth?” Riley growled. She didn’t take her eyes from the raiders.
“Eric, come. Sit with Worth.” The bald man sounded actually happy.
Riley swallowed, not sure what in the hell was happening. Was Worth a traitor? Had he made some deal with these raiders to bring them a woman? Some sick vengeance for what happened to his people?
“Eric. Sit, boy. Sit with Worth. This be fun. Lots and lots.” Worth took his pack off and put it in front of him. He opened the top, carefully dipped his chalice, and closed the pack. His smile dropped away, and he looked at Riley. “Remember. No harm to wine.”
He smiled.
“Eric! Sit!”
The young man lost his mask of death, appearing confused instead. He glanced at Riley, wanting for her approval.
“What the fuck?” she said aloud, deciding whether to trust Worth. She supposed she had to. “Go ahead; do what the drunk tells you.”
“ENOUGH!” the raider shouted. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but ya better start listenin’ or we’re just gonna cut ya up! Put the fuckin’ sword down!”
Riley’s mind let go of Worth and his ridiculous behavior. It let go of Eric and everything else. It focused only on the coming carnage, and the killer in her ignited.
“How about I put it down your throat instead?”
The rest of the raiders looked confused. They hadn’t expected the mage sitting in the sand, and now a woman faced them with a sword.
The head raider looked to his right and then his left. “I’m tryin’ to figure out exactly what’s happenin’ here, but I guess it don’t really matter. Since ya won’t
put the sword down, I suppose we’ll have a go atcha once we disarm ya. Ladies, any of y’all want either of these two men to bring home?”
“Aye,” one of them said. “I’ll take the young ‘un and add ‘im to my collection.”
“No one wants the drunk?” the raider asked.
“Just kill ‘em,” someone said. “Tired of all this talk.”
“Aye, me too,” the head raider responded.
“Then quit talking,” Riley snapped, “and come get me.”
The ones behind her came first, as Riley had expected. One swung for her head, but she ducked, spun, and drove her sword through his back. One came from her left; she wrenched the sword free and drew it across the woman’s stomach.
Both raiders screamed, but the fighting was only beginning.
Worth smiled broadly and took a sip from his chalice.
More were coming at her now, more than she could see. She dodged their blows, parrying and striking like a possessed serpent. Her reaction time was twice as fast as that of anyone coming for her, but there were too many.
Loud clangs of metal hitting metal mixed with the screams of the dying.
Too many, she thought. Sand kicked up from her heels as she danced around her foes.
Riley felt a sword slash close to her robe—far too close. She swung her blade around and caught the man across the throat.
She barely saw the shield.
It hit her in the back and sent her sprawling across the sand. She quickly tried to regain her feet, but the sand betrayed her and she fell to her knees.
She looked up. They were nearly on her. Eight of them, their weapons pointed at her. They wouldn’t take any chances with “having a go”; Riley knew that. She was too dangerous. They were going to kill her and take whatever valuables she possessed.
She could kill maybe three, but not all of them. No way.
Just before they fell on her, she looked at Worth.
He smiled broadly and nodded.
Go on. You magic. His voice filled her head.
Red color ripped across Riley’s pupils, the rising tide inside her bursting forth. She shrieked in anger, knowing it was her last chance. They were on her.
A wave rolled out from Riley, although it couldn’t be seen immediately. Wind rushed at the oncoming attackers, ruffling their clothes and hair.
Chasing Magic (Hand Of Justice Book 2) Page 12