by Isabo Kelly
“I know you know where the one is.” His voice dropped. “I can tell you where the other two are.”
“You know? Where?”
“I want to talk to your man inside the castle. I want protection.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth? How do I know this isn’t some elaborate trap?”
Tracker wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I’m scared, Flash. If they find me here, I’m dead. And I know how they kill.”
She swallowed hard. She knew how they killed, too. “I know where two of them are. If you confirm the location of the second, I’ll take you to the castle.”
He pursed his thin lips. “Which magician?”
“The sorceress.”
“North. Mid-sector, in the basement of a leather shop. A few blocks from the old tannery.”
She bit the inside of her bottom lip. Even if he were lying, she now had the location of the third magician. “Okay, I’ll take you to my man. But I’m wanted around town right now—”
“Charlie? Yeah, I heard. Three Devil’s High with Joe Missek? I’m impressed.”
She snorted. “Yeah, well, it’s caused a lot more trouble than I’d anticipated. Should have stuck to two. Anyway, we’ll have to play a part up to the castle.” She looked him over. “Keep your cowl up and walk a pace behind me. Puff up a little.”
“Bodyguard to the lady?”
“Yeah.” Vic studied his face. The skin under his eye still jumped, but he no longer looked like he was winking. “If you’re lying to me, Tracker…if this is a trap, I’ll kill you myself.”
“If it’s a choice between one of your knives and one of theirs, I’ll take yours with a smile.”
She gave him a short nod then slid moved out the door, bringing her own hood up around her head. She walked back toward the castle with her head up, her shoulders thrown back, affecting as much noble negligence as she could muster, taking time to stop at an occasional stand or shop window despite her anxiety to get back. Tracker played his part well, a permanent scowl across his features, a forbidding look to any man who glanced at her, a carefully hidden hand beneath his cloak. Even his twitches worked to his advantage. He was the image of a dangerous bodyguard.
As Vic moved away from an apple stand, she heard him grunt. When she turned, he was scowling at a very broad, brown-cloaked figure, hurrying down the street. “What?”
“Guy just plowed into me. Must be drunk. He’s already started celebrating new year’s night.”
“Why do you say that?” She resumed her walk toward the castle.
“He had a mask on already. Really ugly green one, too.”
At the castle entrance, Vic approached one of the King’s Own who stood guard. He was a tall young man with friendly blue eyes, short, light brown hair, and a classically handsome face. As she walked toward him, he grinned. “Good day, Victoria.”
“Hi, Garath.”
“You look very nice. New?” He nodded to her dress.
She smiled, just short of being embarrassed. The compliments on how she looked in a dress were coming a little too frequently. “Yeah. Listen, I need to find General Marin.” Behind her, Tracker hissed in a sharp breath.
Garath glanced past her at the hooded man then back, the question plain in his blue eyes.
“We may have found the third,” she told the guard simply.
“Follow me.” Garath nodded at the other two guards, who proceeded to spread out to make up for his absence. “I’ll send someone,” he said before leading Vic and Tracker into the castle. The first King’s Guard they passed was sent back to the entrance.
As Garath told the young woman in King’s green what was needed, Tracker whispered in Vic’s ear, “You didn’t mention your man inside the castle was General Marin.”
“You got a problem with Marin?”
“No. Just didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to give this to him directly. I mean, he actually knows what he’s dealing with, after the Prince and all. I gotta hand it to you, Flash, you couldn’t have picked a better connection.”
She tried not to smile. Tracker didn’t need to know that Jacob had come to her. Garath rejoined them and led them through a series of corridors to a training field. Jacob stood at the edge of the grounds with General Thack, watching his men drill, a slight frown touching his mouth. Vic couldn’t hold her smile this time.
“Generals,” Garath said as they approached.
Jacob turned, looked at his lieutenant, then noticed Vic and a smile lit his face. A smile that turned to a concerned frown when he noticed the third person.
“What’s going on, Victoria?”
“Jacob, this is Tracker. Tracker, General Jacob Marin. General George Thack.”
Tracker lowered his hood, and Jacob scowled.
Thack cursed loudly at the sight of the sought-after smuggler.
When Jacob looked back at her, Vic shrugged. “He knows where the third magician is.”
***
“Are you sure?”
King John stood in front of his desk, his eyes narrowed, his lips a thin line.
Vic’s gaze darted between the king and Jacob. A little lump of fear and anticipation sat in her stomach.
“I’ve already sent men to check the story, Sire,” Jacob said. “They should report back within the hour.”
King John looked out his window, gauging the angle of the sun. “Victoria, do you think this is a trap?”
She unconsciously bit her lip before answering. “I don’t know, Your Majesty, but I don’t think it is. Tracker was scared. Scared enough to come to me and we don’t exactly have a friendly past. He didn’t know Jacob and I are working together. He only knew I had a connection in the castle. And he saw me go into the inn and come out. No one else in that inn besides Malkiney and the sorcerer were conscious. He could have come in after I was already inside, but…I don’t think he’s lying.”
The king nodded, his brow knitting in thought, a frown deepening the creases around his strong mouth. “This Tracker, he’s still in custody?”
“Yes, Majesty,” Jacob answered. “We’re keeping him under close guard. He won’t be getting out before the raid, and no one’s mentioned that there will be a raid.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt us,” King John said, raising one brow. “Very well, Jacob. If your scouts confirm the location of the third magician, then move ahead with the raid on all three locations. The Guild is prepared for that contingency. I’ll have the queen send word that they’re to be ready.”
“Yes, Majesty.”
King John faced her, a smile touching his troubled expression. “Seems we’re once more in your debt, Victoria.”
“This was more of an accident than any of my doing, Majesty,” she said, wanting to fidget under his intense gaze.
“Nevertheless. You have my debt yet again. Thank you.”
She bowed her head and mumbled, “You’re welcome, Majesty.”
In the hall, Jacob circled an arm around her shoulders. “Seems you’re destined to get into the middle of this mess no matter what I do, little thief.”
She chuckled, wrapping her arm around his waist. “It’s not my fault Tracker came to me.” Her expression sobered. “Jacob? Are…are you keeping Tracker in the dungeon?”
“No, he’s in a room in the guest wing under close guard. Why?”
“I just…let’s just say I don’t like dungeons. Actually, I hate dungeons. Even for people I can’t stand.” When Jacob cast her a questioning glance, she didn’t bother to elaborate. After a thoughtful pause, she asked, “What about the fourth? The one in the woods?”
He took a slow, deep breath and tightened his hold. “There’s nothing we can do before tonight. We’ll have to send troops into the forest to hunt him down and send the goblins back north. I’m sure the goblins are working for the magicians, but I can’t figure out why or to what purpose. Especially now that they seem to have disappeared.”
“No sight of them, huh?”
>
“Not for a few days. Not even in the forest.”
They reached the turn in the corridor where they’d have to separate. Jacob pulled her into a tight hug. “You’ll stay in now?”
“Yes.” She smiled.
“Good. And Victoria?”
“Yes?”
He leaned in very close. “You were biting your lip in there. It’s hard for me to see that and not react. But I don’t think King John would have appreciated me kissing you in his presence.”
Before she could answer, he covered her mouth, his drugging kiss hard and potent. She melted against him, knowing that, until the raid was over, this would be the last time she’d see him. Her fear for his safety strengthened her kiss to near desperation. She didn’t want to let go.
He eased away slowly, ran a finger over her cheek then started to walk away still holding her hand.
“Jacob,” she said, tugging him gently. When he looked back, she swallowed the lump forming in her throat and said, “Stay standing, General.”
“Be here when I get back.”
She nodded, releasing his hand only when her arm wouldn’t stretch any further. She watched his retreating back until he disappeared around a corner then slowly worked her way back to his rooms.
Chapter Fifteen
“He’s still in there, General,” Garath whispered.
Jacob stared at the blue door. His spies had been watching the house all day. The sorcerer was still inside. The few smugglers that had left were being tailed. They wouldn’t return in the middle of the raid.
“The others are ready,” Henry whispered in Jacob’s ear.
Jacob glanced at the young sorcerer attached to his group. Black breeches and tunic replaced his usual long black robe. Sharp angles and high cheekbones formed a face that looked too young for the power contained beneath. Only the ice blue of his slanted eyes and the shock of white hair against tawny skin hinted at Henry’s strength.
In the palm of his hand, a small emerald pulsed. The jewel was magically linked with the magicians attached to the other two raiding teams. Patterned pulses of green light communicated a code known only to the Guild magicians.
With a hand gesture, Jacob signaled his soldiers forward. Every window was guarded. The sewers had been checked for escape routes. There were none from the house. It was just after midnight and the streets in that part of town were quiet.
The crashing of glass and splintering of wood erupted into the silent night when Jacob’s soldiers plowed into the house. The smugglers were quick to respond, but surprise gave the king’s soldiers the advantage. Jacob, leading the way through the front door, slashed through scrambling men. Henry followed close behind.
The charcoal sorcerer wasn’t hard to find. In the very midst of the battle, he worked, mouth moving silently, hands twisting in a convoluted pattern. From the corner of his eye, Jacob saw one of his men fall as the sorcerer’s hand flung outward. Then Henry moved from behind Jacob.
The magical battle was engaged.
Jacob moved with strength and precision, cutting down all who came near the sorcerers. Most of the smugglers fought to the death, a few threw down their weapons and surrendered. The battle didn’t last long. Behind them, lights flashed and flickered, but the magical duel was silent. Only the rumbling of the house around them spoke of the thrusts being exchanged.
When Jacob turned to the magicians, he faced the blood sorcerer’s back. Henry tossed a bolt of green light, his expression calm and confident, even when the energy sizzled harmlessly around the blood mage’s shield. His stance wide, his shoulders straight, Henry looked in complete control, limitless in energy. But sweat beaded his forehead and he flinched under the blood mage’s attack. Henry struck again, hard and without hesitation, and the blood mage began to waver, falling slowly backward toward Jacob.
A shout from Henry alerted Jacob in time to see the sorcerer pull a small, smooth cube from the folds of his robe. Blasts of white-blue power slammed against the blood mage’s shield but dissipated without breaking through. Henry took a step closer, forcing the blood mage back, continuing to bombard him with a rapid series of varying attacks, striking without pause.
Giving Jacob an opening.
He swung his sword, slashing through the magician’s neck. Blood splattered his clothing and face as the sorcerer’s body collapsed to the ground. The cube slipped from his fingers, clattering across the wooden floor, stopping when it touched Henry’s boot.
Jacob met Henry’s blue eyes and nodded once before walking out of the house into the cold night air.
“What do you mean they got away?” Jacob scowled at Henry.
“That’s the message I’m receiving, General Marin. The other two gated out.”
“How? I thought you’d taken precautions against gating.” Jacob kept his voice low, but anger and frustration threatened to burst out. He kept his hands fisted to maintain his control.
“The gates weren’t magic gates, General.”
“Not magic gates? What then?”
“Mechanical. The cube.”
Henry held up the device, flipping it in his hand. The surface was smooth seamless copper.
“I’ve read of similar devices, General, but they’re notoriously unpredictable and impractical. They can’t be made to gate for more than a mile at most. No one in memory has been able to extend the limit and repeatedly gating increases the chances of something going wrong, so the use of them was largely abandoned.”
“Then why? Why did the magicians use them?”
Henry shrugged. “They can’t be stopped with magic, and they don’t require a magician to activate them.”
“What about the controls?” Jacob nodded to the cube’s smooth surface.
“It’s an illusion. Any magician of sufficient skill can place an illusion on the cube so only the user can see the controls. If it’s stolen or lost, it can’t be used.”
Henry stared intently at the cube for a heartbeat, his brow crinkling in concentration. As Jacob watched, the illusion slipped away, revealing a flat dial and two metal buttons.
Jacob let out a heavy breath. He wanted to yell at somebody. Instead, he turned to Garath. “Have the prisoners taken back to the castle, Lieutenant. Henry, come with me. We’ll have to tell the king about this…mechanical gating. And that two of the magicians escaped.”
Worry continued to nag Jacob as he quietly slipped into his room. The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky through the windows. Exhaustion weighed so heavily on him, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep. And something still bothered him.
The loss of the magicians was bad. And, as it turned out, Malkiney had managed to escape also. But that wasn’t what disturbed Jacob. There was a problem, a possibility that hung just beyond his tired mind’s ability to grasp. Something about the gating. Maybe after a bath and a few hours sleep he’d be able to pinpoint his unease.
The sight of Victoria curled beneath the blankets made him smile. At least she’d been safe. Silently, he closed the door to the washroom and filled the washbasin with warm water. Blood still caked his hands and splattered his clothing, but he couldn’t smell the metallic stench anymore. He’d been coated in it for too long.
Turning back to the washstand, basin in hand, he was more than a little surprised to see Victoria standing in the doorway. He hadn’t heard her. Her arms crossed over her stomach, bunching the front of the shirt she’d borrowed from his wardrobe. Her hair hung in a tangled mass around her face.
“Is any of that yours?” she asked, nodding at the blood covering him.
“No, love. I wasn’t hurt.”
Her shoulders slumped visibly with her exhaled breath. Then she smiled.
Despite his exhaustion, he found his heart jumping. He smiled back. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, setting the full basin back on the table.
“You didn’t. I wasn’t asleep.” She went to the tub and began filling it with warm water. “Get out of those.” She nodded at his
clothes.
He washed the blood from his hands then stripped. The waiting bath was hot and soothing to his tight, tired muscles. He settled into its heat and closed his eyes as Victoria washed the remaining blood from his neck and face with a washcloth. When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him. “What’s wrong, love?”
“Something didn’t go right,” she said, shifting so her chin rested on the edge of the tub. “Did it?”
He reached to cup her cheek. “There was a problem. Two of the magicians got away. The third was killed.”
“Which one?”
“The one in the house near the eastern gate.”
“That’s where you were, wasn’t it?”
“Um hmm.”
“Did you…?”
“Yes.”
She touched the onyx hanging at his throat. “How did the others escape?”
“Gated out. Mechanical gates. The Guild magicians couldn’t stop it.”
She nodded. After a silent moment, she looked back into his eyes. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
He smiled and leaned forward, kissing her gently. The warm scent of her skin, the soft touch of her hair, the taste of her lips, stilled his worrying mind and banished the stench of blood still heavy in his nostrils. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, running a hand through her curls.
“You must be tired.” She stood and plucked a fresh towel from the washstand. “Time for sleep.”
At her nod, he stepped out of the tub and she wrapped the towel around his hips. Then, quite suddenly, she melted against him, circling her arms about his waist. Holding her close, he felt the thud of her heartbeat. “Worried?” he whispered to the top of her head.
“No,” she answered, but she kept her face pressed to his chest and tightened her grip.
He chuckled. “Come on, little thief. Let’s both get some sleep.”
***