by TR Cameron
The brute swung a punch at Cali as she ran forward, and she redirected it past her, kicked his shin to compromise his balance, and continued her approach toward the boss. The Empress, my challenge. She caught golden fur out of the corner of her eye as Fyre became visible. The large dog bit and pulled at the leg of the woman in the suit. A shout of pain bellowed behind her, but whether from Tanyith or the big man she couldn’t be sure.
Usha raised her hand and a blast of concentrated air lashed at Cali, halting her momentum. She spun away from the focused barrage and drew and hurled her right stick in a single motion. The woman batted it away with another air spell, accompanied by a whooshing sound. She tried again with the left stick, and it met the same result. Barely in time, she dove to the side to avoid the woman’s next magical attack, a thin line of force that sliced through the air like a blade.
Fyre hurtled past her unexpectedly, his airborne trajectory clearly against his will as his limbs thrashed. She instinctively threw a buffer of air ahead of him to cushion his impact against the far wall, then growled at the fact that they were not only losing, they were taking too damn long to do it. Okay, time to play dirty. She yelled, “Get the witch in the suit,” and charged forward to launch a two-handed punch at the back of the big man’s head. Her momentum channeled through her fists drove him forward into the wall as Tanyith ducked out of the way.
Her partner continued toward the woman and spun the weapons in his hands. She sneered at him and summoned a weapon of her own, a long spear of ice that trailed vapor as she swiped it through a complex pattern. She didn’t hesitate but stabbed it at him as soon as he was in range. He caught it on his sai and thrust the other one at her face but Cali lost track of their battle when the desk that separated her from the boss hurtled toward her.
She rolled to the side, sure that a follow-up attack was imminent. A force blast battered the wall beside her, so fast that she couldn’t have reacted to it. She owed her continued existence to Fyre, who had shoved the enemy leader off balance. He darted away as Cali went on the offensive. She called her sticks to her hands and attacked. The woman threw a force burst at her face and she instinctively blocked it by raising the weapons in an X. The magic struck them and dissipated.
Oh, hell yes. Now we’re talking. She grinned and saw doubt in the other woman’s eyes. She can’t believe what she sees, which means my illusions are still holding. She waded in with rapid strikes, and her opponent deflected them with her own small shields but backpedaled as she did so.
Instinctively, she pursued and only realized she’d been played when the Draksa crashed into her from behind and thrust her out of the path of the spear that would have taken her head off. She twisted to find her enemies and saw them fleeing. “Damn. Reinforcements will be here soon. Let’s block the door again.” They shoved furniture up against it, and Fyre stood ready to bolster it with an ice blast as a last resort. “Where should we look?”
Tanyith shrugged, already on the move toward a cabinet on the far side of the room. “I have no idea. Open everything.” By the time they found something that looked valuable, the desk was in pieces, all the art was down from the walls, and they’d broken several statues. The object was hidden in one of the pedestals, which they only discovered by luck while shattering the sculptures atop them. She eased the long shard of metal from inside its wooden concealment and immediately noticed the symbols engraved along it. Clearly, it had been part of a larger piece, and by the sharp edges on all sides, she imagined it was from a sword. Tanyith helped her wrap it in a section of fabric cut from a drape before they stepped into a portal without delay and closed it behind them.
Cali dropped to the floor and began to laugh, and the others joined in. When she could breathe again, she pointed a finger at Tanyith. “What the hell, man? How did she get to throw a spear at me? What were you doing, dancing?”
He had the decency to look embarrassed. “She made a wicked head strike that I blocked, then flipped the weapon to cut at my feet with the other end. It turns out both sides are sharp. I had to scramble away, and that’s when she did it.”
“Uh-huh. Fortunately, the real hero of the day was there to save me.” She smoothed her hands along the Draksa’s scales, and he suddenly rolled over to allow her to rub his belly. Of course, that simply made her collapse into hysterics again.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Cali had spent the entire Friday evening shift waiting for the other shoe to drop and for one or both gangs to invade the Drunken Dragons Tavern and take her away. She’d portaled rather than walked to work in an abundance of caution and had placed magical wards on her room at the boarding house for the first time the night before.
When a tipsy witch dropped a glass to shatter on the floor with a loud crack, she almost jumped out of her skin. Zeb apparently noticed her reaction because he called her over to the bar a moment later.
He mimed patting her like one would a horse. “Calm down, girl.”
The dwarf was the only person allowed to call her “girl” without receiving a punch in return like Emalia was the only one permitted to call her “child.” “It’s easy for you to say. You have the safest part of this whole plan.”
“It was your plan.”
“That is not relevant. Shut up.” She grinned. “I think that somehow, you’re behind it all. Mind control maybe.”
“Only the fermented kind.”
The door opened to admit Tanyith, which meant it was midnight or thereabouts. Zeb nodded at her, and she shouted, “Okay, people, time to clear out. We’re closing early tonight.” There were grumbles from the customers but nothing serious. They’d been warned as they arrived, and the proprietor had offered a discount on a final drink when he’d announced the last call a half-hour before. No one had cause for complaint except her, and then only if they tipped less because of it.
Always me getting the short end of the stick. She laughed at her own joke, knowing full well she was far luckier than she deserved with guardians, friends, magical weapons, additional training, and of course, Fyre. The illusory boxer stuck his head up from behind the bar and barked to encourage the patrons to depart faster.
By twelve-fifteen, it was empty and she and Tanyith had been banished to the building’s attic. There was no ladder to access the space, so it had required a chair and a boost to get her up there, and she’d had to pull his heavy form up. The Draksa had flown around the room once to gain speed, then elevated and rocketed through the entrance with no problem. Once in place, they discovered small cracks and crevices that would permit them to watch and listen to the goings-on below.
No sooner had Zeb slid the chair away from beneath the innocuous ceiling panel than his guests began to arrive. He hadn’t been willing to explain anything more about them, and she was shocked to see representatives from most of the magicals in the city come through the door. Dark and Light Elves, a wizard and a witch, a gnome, and even a Kilomea. Their host pulled a cup of his special cask brew for each, and they waited at the bar as the clock ticked the minutes off, discussing everything but the matter at hand.
At ten to one, Zeb vanished to the basement and returned with the items they’d stolen. The wizard, clearly the eldest among them, set the open case containing the pistols and the broken blade on the midpoint of the center table, cast a spell over them, and shrouded them in force. Each of the other magicals added a layer of protection—ice, shadow, fire, a mist she couldn’t identify, and finally, another of force. The objects were still visible under the roiling magics but the statement was obvious—anyone dishonorable wouldn’t get their hands on the items without first contending with the combined might of the group. They took up positions throughout the common room.
At one on the dot, the dwarf opened the door to admit the leadership of the Atlantean gang. The big bald man entered ahead of the others and looked irritated but unharmed. His tight white t-shirt emphasized his muscles, and his deliberate stride was a threat all on its own. Cali made a sound of disbelie
f, knowing she’d planted his face into the wall, and Tanyith kicked her leg from his prone position beside her. He whispered, “Scumbags can also use healing potions.”
Her lips twisted in disgust, and she whispered in response, “They shouldn’t be allowed to.”
Next to arrive was the androgynous Danna Cudon in her dark suit, similarly looking none the worse for wear. Her straight black hair fell over half her face, and her single visible eye scanned the room warily. Fyre puffed a small snort of cold mist into the air, apparently still irritated by the way she’d thrown him at a wall. Finally, the boss herself appeared. Usha wore a formal dark business suit with her braids bound into a long ponytail. Her flat expression concealed any emotions she might have felt.
They didn’t speak and merely crossed to the far side of the bar and faced the assemblage. The humans arrived shortly after. Rion Grisham, predictably, wore an expensive suit and a red tie, while the two men accompanying him were dressed in less pricey but well-fitting business wear. Slight bulges suggested the presence of pistols in shoulder holsters. They took position on the opposite side of the room from the others near the door. Zeb moved to his usual place behind the bar facing the common room.
The old wizard stepped forward. “Thank you for coming, Mr Grisham and Ms Usha.” Apparently, the man didn’t know the Atlantean leader’s last name either. “This may very well turn out to be a historic occasion, as the Atlanteans and the Zatora organizations meet in peace to talk.” He paused as if to allow the opposing leaders an opportunity to speak, but neither did. He shrugged and continued. “So. As the representatives of various interested parties present in the Crescent City, we wish to make a request. In exchange for your agreement to our proposal, we will return the symbolic items that have come into our possession.”
Usha snarled disapproval. “Thieves.”
Grisham nodded with his arms folded and added, “I’m not sure how you wound up getting my weapons from the Atlanteans, but it’s certainly suspicious.”
His counterpart sputtered, “Or how you acquired the shard from the Zatora hoods who stole it. I concur, suspicious.”
The wizard raised an eyebrow. “Coming from you two, that’s an interesting perspective. In any case, I do not know the provenance of these objects, only that they were delivered to my associate for sale and he recognized their unique importance.” He nodded at the Dark Elf, who returned the gesture. “If we do not come to terms, the items will be destroyed here before your eyes. It’s my understanding that this would cause you some significant…uh, public relations issues once word got out. Which it certainly would.” He gestured to indicate the others around the room.
Rion Grisham’s voice was mild and all the more threatening because of it. “You could all be dead by sunrise at an order from either of us.” Now, it was the Atlantean who nodded over folded arms.
“You could try.” The wizard shrugged again. “And the possible outcome would be that our people band together against you. How much would your ‘businesses,’ such as they are, suffer then? Instead, it is to everyone’s benefit that you agree to our terms, which are quite reasonable.”
Usha huffed out a breath and unfolded her arms. “Get to the point, old man.”
Zeb interrupted. “Simple rules, so no one’s confused. First, no retaliation against any of us or our people. Second, several businesses we will name are off-limits to you, including Ikehara Goro’s dojo. Third, the Drunken Dragons Tavern will be recognized neutral territory. No one will seek to claim it, and no one will cause trouble on the premises. As always, everyone will continue to be welcome here.”
The opposing leaders stared at each other for almost a full minute in silence. Cali had no idea what they were doing—maybe seeking an advantage or maybe speaking telepathically. Finally, the human nodded and the Atlantean did the same.
The wizard intoned, “Give your oath, and be bound by it.”
With a sigh, Grisham said, “You have my solemn oath. Neither I nor mine shall retaliate against you or your people for this affront. We will accept the names of seven businesses, one for each of you, as off-limits, and the Zatora will respect this establishment as neutral ground.”
The Atlantean repeated his words with more sincerity and more anger. Tanyith leaned over and whispered, “If I had to guess, I’d say the pistols are simply symbolic, not revered. The sword piece, though, means something much deeper to her. Taking it was a violation on a different scale than the other.”
“What do you think it is?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but we’ll definitely have to find out.”
Below, the shields were removed and the objects returned to their owners. The humans left first and after an interval, Zeb checked to be sure they weren’t lying in wait for the other faction and signaled that it was clear. The Atlanteans departed without a word, and the guests chatted amiably for several minutes before they, too, exited. He waved up at the ceiling, and they vaulted down, using magic to buffer their landings. Fyre flew another circuit of the room before he touched down near the locked door.
Cali smiled at the Draksa. “So, that went well. You have some interesting friends, Zeb.”
He chuckled from his seat on one of the high chairs at the bar. “True. They’re good people to have as allies.”
Tanyith’s voice wasn’t as relieved as she would have expected. “I think allies is the right word. Because tonight, a new battle line was drawn.” The dwarf nodded.
She ventured, “Everyone versus the gangs?”
Another nod from her boss confirmed her fear. “Yeah. Even though both gangs will honor their pledge, they haven’t promised to accept any future actions from us without a response. They’ll watch for an opportunity to strike back within the rules.”
“We should have come up with some more restrictive ones.”
Zeb laughed. “Did you see their faces? We were lucky to get what we got.” He shook his head. “We all made some enemies tonight but it had to happen. They weren’t going to stop.”
“Are you sure they’ll live up to their promises?”
He nodded. “I can’t imagine they would want to add all of us to the gang that opposes them, so that should keep them each in check.”
Tanyith’s words held the doubt she felt. “Let’s hope so.” Yeah. Hope for the best, but I’d better start preparing for the worst.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The common room was mostly empty the next afternoon when Cali stopped in for lunch. Saturdays usually didn’t get busy until four or so, and she always enjoyed being there as a customer instead of a worker. The stew was a new recipe—andouille sausage, vegetables, and thick noodles in a dark gravy. It was delicious, and she was already on her second helping. Fyre, seated on the bench beside her, was finishing his third. It was entirely strange to watch him use magic to float pieces of food to his mouth, then lick the bowl clean with his long tongue.
She easily maintained the veil that kept her dining companion hidden from everyone other than Zeb or Tanyith. There was no sign of the pendulum Emalia had mentioned swinging back, so she had begun to believe her current magical strength really might be permanent. It wouldn’t stop her from finding other options when she could, though. “Well rounded is well prepared,” like both her Mother and Father used to say. The familiar ache of their absence resurfaced.
Tanyith took a seat across from her with his own bowl and mug in hand. His hair was again in its usual pompadour, and his beard was carefully groomed. “I have never slept better than I did last night.”
She nodded. “Getting that task off our backs was a relief, especially after they agreed not to retaliate for it. Even more so since there’s no way the ones we faced would have failed to report our use of magic in the Shark. My sleep was mostly untroubled, except big, green, and scaly here snores.” The Draksa gave her a withering glare and went back to eating. Tanyith laughed and she pointed a spoon at him. “Don’t encourage him.” She shook her head. “So, what will
you do now?”
He shrugged. “I guess I need to get a job since my former ‘company’ is no longer a viable option.”
“You can come busk with me.” The image of the other man performing for tips brought a grin. “You’d be a natural.” Not. But you would be hilarious.
The door opened, and she flicked her gaze in that direction. The sight of Detective Kendra Barton elicited a groan. The woman exchanged words with Zeb before she strode across to sit beside Tanyith and across from the invisible Draksa. Cali pushed more energy into the veil.
The new arrival gave her a grin that didn’t reach her eyes. They weren’t accusatory but they weren’t trusting either. “Cali.”
“Kendra.”
“He’s still too old for you.”
It was Cali’s turn to grin. “You sound like someone with an agenda, Detective. He’s not too old for you.”
The other woman shook her head. “I stopped by to check and make sure you were okay after whatever it was you were doing that you didn’t want me to know you were doing.”
“Fine, thanks. It turns out the whole thing was a big misunderstanding. A short talk and it was all over. Easy Peasy.”
Her lips stretched in a thin smile. “That’s not what I hear from the people I know. They say things have changed on the streets and that both the big gangs have pulled back to their own territories over the last day.”
Tanyith matched her expression. “They gotta rest sometime. Maybe they’re getting ready to try out some new strategies. They probably won’t go legit, though.”
“Kind of like you, huh?”
He twisted to face her. “You seem to have a problem believing I’m not part of the gang. What’s your deal?”