The boy took an involuntary step back. Astrid gave him credit for putting on a good show of not looking scared.
“I agree, First Lieutenant,” The boy stammered with a slight tremor in his voice. Still, he held his ground. “But the charter says everyone’s gotta pay what the market asks for.” The boy folded his arms across his skinny chest and set his jaw. “Past time everyone follows that.”
“And tonight, you are the market, is that right?” Hanif’s face softened with amusement.
The boy nodded firmly. And snapped the straw in the corner of his mouth like a punctuation mark.
Hanif reached into the leather purse hanging from his belt. He pressed five double-coins into the boy’s hand. “That’s payment for making sure these horses are here and well cared for when we get back. I would like your best service, young man.”
The boy perked up. He grabbed the coins and dropped them in his pockets, then cracked his knuckles and stood a bit straighter. “I can do a lot of horse keepin’ for that. Might even get a good fight out of it if someone comes lookin’ for trouble.”
He made clumsy boxing gestures with his fists.
“Just keep the horses safe,” Astrid called over her shoulder as she marched further into the quarter.
She barely heard Tracker and Moxy as they scurried through the shadows, but she knew they were there.
“Scout ahead,” Astrid murmured under her breath. “You’re looking for a tavern by the docks.”
“You don’t know where it is?” Hanif asked.
“Not exactly,” Astrid said. “He just told me to head for the Lake and that I couldn’t miss it.”
Someone stepped out of the shadows a couple of blocks later.
“Are you two fine citizens of the Protectorate lost?” the man asked. He was tall and lean. His physical strength was clear even wrapped in black leather armor. “Can I help you find your way?”
Two more men and a woman moved out of the shadows. Hanif squared his shoulders and lurched forward, but Astrid held up her hand and stepped to the man first.
“No time for this. Step aside,” Astrid ordered.
The man gave a slimy, sinister laugh and lifted his palms to the night sky. “That’s not very neighborly,” he said, clicking his tongue. “What has this land come to. All these ruffians about.”
Astrid kept her eyes glued to the center of his chest. At the first sign of motion, she executed a swift right cross to the corner of his jaw. She didn’t even have to block the dagger arm that barely made it above his waist.
He fell to the ground like a marionette with no strings.
The others stopped mid-lunge. “Get him to a good healer. That jaw’s probably broken,” Astrid advised them in flat tones.
They dragged the unconscious man away.
“One of you, follow them,” Astrid said. “Come back and warn us if they go get friends.”
“I know they’re there, sometimes,” Hanif said as they continued walking. “But I just can’t find them.”
“They know how to hide in sound, making their movements blend in with other noises.”
“Much respect,” Hanif complimented.
“Thank you,” Tracker replied from the shadows by the eaves of a building right above Hanif’s head.
“Gah,” he sputtered.
“Sorry. I’ve scouted ahead.”
“Happy you’re here,” Hanif replied.
They arrived at the lake and its collection of docks and piers jutting out into the water. There were three such structures, one of which supported a sprawling one-story building with many additions poking out at odd angles. The others held more modest sheds, shacks, and three-walled structures.
“Moxy, are you here?” Astrid whispered as she rounded a corner and found herself looking at an array of piers and docks.
“Yes, the others went into a house, and nobody else came out. Didn’t see anyone behind us.”
“I think it’s the big box,” Tracker volunteered, slipping out of the shadows to become visible. “It smells of vomit and fermented grains.”
Moxy released her camouflage and stood by her cousin.
“That sounds about right,” Hanif agreed.
Astrid led the way. “Ah, pixie friends?” Astrid asked. “Can you do your camouflage thing? This is going to go bad quickly. If we walk up there with two naked people…”
“You box dwellers and your thing about skin,” Moxy admonished, and disappeared into the shadows along with Tracker.
The boardwalk sported a few mercenaries in black leather and light plate armor. There was no way to approach unseen, but they were far enough away from the tavern to look like two ordinary denizens of the quarter. Weapons of every description were displayed prominently, including magitech weapons.
“Where did they get those magitech arms?” Hanif asked.
“We tried to collect them quickly after the last battle,” she replied. “But I guess some got away, maybe with the people who ran away.”
“I see only a couple ex-estate soldiers. The rest must have gotten them by trade.”
“Without magic users to charge the amphoralds, they won’t be worth much when they’re out of charge,” Astrid remarked.
“Well, I hope they don’t figure out how to recharge amphoralds,” Hanif replied.
“So, do we have to worry about—”
The telekinetic blast caught Astrid off-guard. She had just enough time to draw from the Well before her back slammed painfully against a lamp post. She bounced off and landed face-down on the planks.
It took her a couple of seconds to pick herself back up; much longer than she would have liked. Hanif had his short sword out and was tangled with two Movers who alternated between sword strikes and touchless blows.
One of them caught Hanif in the gut with a magical punch, and he doubled over.
Astrid took them both down with a flying tackle, then rolled to her feet. Both Movers popped back up again. The larger of the two charged Astrid, and that turned out to be his fatal mistake. The rope dart came off her shoulder in an instant and wrapped around his waist.
She yanked on the line so hard, his sword flew from his hand. Astrid grabbed the back of his head with both hands and slammed his face onto her armored knee.
Hanif finished his opponent by running him through the heart.
They climbed a set of stone steps onto the pier and continued to the tavern.
“Looks like the others didn’t care about the fight,” Astrid remarked as she strode across the planks. “I’m glad they didn’t alert—”
Bang! The double doors to the bar burst open, nearly coming off their hinges.
What looked like a geyser of people spilled out from the tavern.
“You were saying?” Hanif said, drawing his sword again.
“I was just saying I have a knack for speaking too soon,” Astrid replied as she swung her rope dart above her head. She brought the other end of the line to her opposite hand and prepared herself for a workout.
“Tracker! Moxy! Now is the time. They’re distracted. Go free Gormer and Mortsen!”
“Ah…” Hanif huffed. “Two on...fifty? You certainly have a high estimation of me.”
“Always did, Hanif,” Astrid replied as they stood back to back. “Just be mindful of my lines. It’s gonna get complicated.”
We Have to Stop Meeting Like This
Moxy and Tracker slipped through the shadows. It was easy to avoid the box dwellers who were focused with murderous intent on Astrid and Hanif.
“Should we leave them to fight...all of them?” Tracker spoke in a low voice as he and Moxy used their claws to cling above the tavern doors.
“They’ll be fine,” Moxy replied.
The doors oscillated on their hinges as more people poured out. Moxy scrambled along the eaves until she found a hole big enough to slip through.
She scratched her shoulders and breasts to pass through. Tracker fared worse, as he was slightly larger. He pulled a spli
nter from the tight skin of his abdomen and wiped the blood into his skin.
“They will smell our blood,” he said as they moved easily through the dim barroom.
“Their senses are dead. They can’t smell blood like we can.” Moxy stopped dead in her tracks, not caring she was in a pool of pale orange light. “But do you smell that?”
“Sick flesh,” Tracker replied, wrinkling his nose. “And something more. It’s the dreamworld smell.”
They bolted across the bar when they heard voices and pressed their backs against the wall where shadows were darkest.
“I don’t like this,” a phlegmy female voice said.
“You worry too much, Faleena,” another female voice replied.
“And you don’t worry enough, Kate,” Faleena shot back.
“There were only two of them,” Kate countered.
“It could be a distraction,” Faleena answered. “Check the bar. If you find some of those idiot mercenaries tell them to guard the inside of the damn bar.
A high-pitched whine announced the presence of a magitech weapon. Moxy tensed at the sound and the smell of electrical storm that came with it. She hated the vile contraptions.
“We’ve got five guards in the happy room,” Kate replied, “and we have these.” The whining sound came again.
Moxy peeked around the side of the bar. Just as she suspected, they both had the magical weapons.
She twitched her head upward, and it was all Tracker needed to leap to the rafters in a single bound. Moxy joined him, and they scurried across the ceiling, following the scent of wrongness.
“What was that?” Faleena shout-whispered. Moxy and Tracker froze just above one of the doors at the back of the room. “I heard something.”
The sounds of fighting were loud enough to invade the bar as muted chaos.
“You’re hearing things,” Kate called back. “It’s the fighting outside.
Moxy hung from the rafter with one hand and extended the razor-sharp claws to six inches on the other. She prepared to pounce if Faleena got too close.
For a moment, Faleena looked directly at her. Moxy held her breath and calculated how much energy it would take to cover the twenty feet between them. Then, Faleena turned away.
“You’re right.” Faleena sighed. “My nerves…”
Moxy dropped down to the floor with barely a sound and quickly opened the door.
“What the fu—” the guard exclaimed at the moving shadows racing toward him.
Moxy silenced him forever with five finger claws driven through his throat and into his spine. Tracker sliced open the other guard’s throat just below his voice box, then drove a finger claw into the base of his skull. Both guards collapsed like ragdolls.
Their drawn swords clattered to the ground.
Moxy turned the knob slowly and pushed open the door, ready for any guards that might be inside.
When she saw the thing with its mass of tentacles crawling across the floor, she reared and extended her claws to full length.
“No!” Mortsen bellowed. “Don’t touch it. Get a sword.”
Tracker, visible again, wasted no time. He grabbed a sword from the dead guard and made a slimy red hash from the plantlike creature.
Gormer groaned, said, “Are the pixies here? Is Moxy naked?”
“Cut me loose so I can slap this shitstick around,” Mortsen growled.
Moxy easily sliced through Mortsen’s leather straps with her claws.
“Don’t move if you still want all your limbs,” Mortsen warned Gormer with a terrifying, golden smile. The big man took the sword from Tracker and whacked away at Gormer’s restraints.
Gormer froze as the sword brushed against his skin without cutting him—barely.
“I’m awake!” he shouted. He tried to stand but nearly fell over.
“Oh, noodle legs,” Gormer said.
“I can help with that,” Mortsen said. He grabbed Gormer by the tunic and slapped him hard across the face.
“Whoo-hoo!” Gormer shouted. “That did it.” He shook his head briskly from side to side. “Let’s get the fuck out of here!”
They bolted into the hallway with Gormer in the lead only to stop when they found three guards waiting for them with magitech rifles. Boone stood behind them. Tracker and Moxy instantly disappeared into the shadows and clung to the ceiling with their claws.
Tweee! The guards brought the weapons to their shoulders.
Mortsen grabbed Gormer by the back of his neck and pulled him back into the room just as the guards fired. Moxy and Tracker appeared in the room a second later.
“What do we do?” Gormer asked.
“Shut up,” Mortsen barked. He cocked his ear toward the wall and crouched.
The faint sound of running footsteps neared. Mortsen exploded through the wall, tackling the two guards. He wasted no time snapping both of their necks.
Boone screeched a sound that produced an involuntary hiss from Moxy. He took off down the hallway with surprising speed for such an awkward appearance.
“Don’t let him get away!” Gormer shouted. They gave chase down the long hallway.
“He smells very wrong,” Tracker shouted as they ran.
Boone turned and pushed through one of many doors.
“We need him alive!” Gormer yelled as Tracker and Moxy bolted forward into the shadows.
They followed him into a room with two other doors on the opposite wall. Both were closed.
“Oh great,” Gormer exclaimed, throwing up his hands.
Moxy and Tracker took one door while Mortsen and Gormer took the other.
They ended in the same empty room.
“What the…” Gormer stammered.
“Where did he—"
“There!” Tracker shouted. “A trap door.”
Gormer grabbed the handle and pulled it open, then jumped back to prevent anyone from blowing his face off with a rifle. Tracker inched forward and peered into the darkness below.
“Nobody waiting,” the pixie called, then jumped down the hole.
Chapter Seventeen
Finally, We Meet...oh...ok
Astrid and Hanif had thinned out the crowd considerably. In fact, they were hampered by the fallen enemies at their feet more than by the attackers.
Hanif was brutally efficient as he guided the fight to the nearest threats. Astrid followed his lead as he hacked through the crowd to get at the magic users first. He used his telekinetic strikes sparingly, letting his sword do most of the heavy lifting.
Astrid provided backup, keeping enemies away from him with the rope dart. But now all their good work left them exposed to several mercs. The rifle wielders showed an increasing willingness to inflict collateral damage.
“Duck!” Astrid shouted as she caught sight of a merc taking aim.
Hanif crouched without hesitation, and the blue bolt of magical energy sizzled past Astrid’s right cheek.
Astrid, Gormer’s voice in her head nearly caused her to miss blocking the sword aimed at her neck. Instead, it cut her cheek. She caught the offending arm, broke it in a leverage hold, then used her free hand to crush the attacker’s throat.
Busy, Astrid returned.
I see, Gormer answered. Mortsen and I are under the pier with Moxy and Tracker. We’re chasing Boone.
Another two magitech bolts streaked past Astrid and took out two fighters behind her.
“I hope they keep that up!” Hanif shouted. He knocked one attacker back with a touchless strike, and Astrid dispatched him with a rope dart to the forehead.
“Go for the rifles,” Hanif exclaimed.
Astrid wrapped her rope dart around her waist and fought hand to hand until she found what she was looking for. She kneed a man in the balls, making him drop his sword. She grabbed him by his leather chest piece with both hands.
Astrid drew as much strength as she could from the Well, lifted him off his feet and charged the magitech riflemen. The compatriots of Astrid’s human shield had no co
mpunctions about killing one of their own.
The dead body smoldered from numerous through-holes when Astrid got close enough to throw the carcass at them.
They jumped back just in time for Hanif to come through. “Jump left!” he shouted.
Astrid jumped right. “Oh damn,” she said casually.
“The other left,” Hanif shouted, but it was too late. He’d already committed.
Hanif used his physical magic to blast through the boards. The last two riflemen fell through the hole with Astrid following. She managed to grab hold of the edge of the jagged hole by her fingertips, but they began to slip immediately.
“Gotcha!” Hanif called. He did a belly flop and grabbed her wrists with both hands.
She almost pulled him into the hole when she swung her legs and awkwardly climbed back up.
“Thanks,” Astrid said with a sheepish grin. “I jumped the wrong way.”
“It happens,” was all he said as he brushed the blood and grime off his plate mail, making a gory smear.
Are you coming? Gormer projected. He’s heading toward the shore.
“Let’s go,” Astrid said and took off running.
Hanif lagged. The fight had exhausted much of his energy. Astrid resisted calling a smartass comment over her shoulder.
“I see him!” Astrid hollered.
Boone looked strange even from her vantage point on the pier more than ten feet off the ground. He ran with a swivel-hipped limping gait. Despite this, he was fast.
His long coat trailed behind him like a cape. When Boone turned back to look at his pursuers, his baggy shirt clung to a pronounced pot belly.
Astrid poured on the speed and launched herself from the pier. She hung in the air, then tucked and rolled just before she hit the ground. The momentum carried her into two somersaults before she regained control and popped back into a run.
She caught up to Boone and made a flying tackle, but only managed to snatch his legs. It was enough to make him fall.
Boone hit the ground hard on his belly but made no sound. He clawed his way to a standing position on the sandy ground.
She’d delayed him long enough for Gormer to catch up.
“Got ya, piss worm!” he threw himself at Boone and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist.
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