Orion’s eyes came up to meet hers, then he slowly drew in a breath and nodded.
"Yeah, of course," he said. "It’s frosty."
"Great," Kellan said. "Good." She took another bite of food, but she’d lost her appetite and the processed soy protein tasted even more bland than before.
"Yeah," Orion replied, settling back to eat in silence. He hadn’t taken more than a few bites when the side door of the building opened quietly. Both of them set down the meal packs and rested their hands on their weapons. As the slim form of Midnight appeared, shadowed in the doorway, they relaxed.
"We’re all set," Midnight announced. She was dressed in her working clothes of close-fitting synthleather, including a vest with numerous pockets for tools and other gadgets, under which she wore a holster rig. Another gun was strapped to her thigh, and her long hair was pulled back and coiled at the nape of her neck to keep it out of the way. "You almost ready to go?" she asked them, jerking her chin in their direction.
"Yeah," Orion said, picking up his food. They ate quickly, gathered their gear, and hit the road.
Midnight had picked up a midsized van, which was parked outside. They’d stashed their bikes in a safe location nearby, from which they could reclaim them when they got back to Seattle. At least Kellan hoped they’d remain undiscovered, since she really didn’t want to have to replace her ride with part of the profits from this run. The van was nondescript and in good shape, though probably at least five or six years old; the height of anonymity. They loaded their gear in the back, and Midnight slid into the driver’s seat.
Night had settled fully over the metroplex. In the distance to the north, Kellan could see the glittering lights and corporate towers of downtown. The Barrens neighborhood around them was lit only by a few scattered and sputtering lights, and a fire burning in a barrel a few blocks away. They watched carefully for any signs they were being followed and saw none, and
Kellan hoped that meant Akimura would lose their trail once they left the metroplex. If they stayed out of sight for a while, perhaps his attention would shift elsewhere.
They drove south out of the metroplex and into Salish-Shidhe Council territory. The border guards at the checkpoint took little interest in their passing, and, despite Kellan’s worries, didn’t check their identification too closely—probably a direct result of Midnight setting up her credstick to pass the guards a little something as soon as they slotted it. Soon they were on the road through Council territory, headed for the border of Tir Tairngire. Traffic was relatively light, and they made good time. After a couple of hours, they found themselves on a deserted stretch of road. Midnight abruptly pulled the van off the highway, killing the headlights but continuing to drive.
They drove for ten minutes, then Midnight put the van into park and consulted a portable GPS unit to determine their position, leaning back over the seat to show Orion.
"From here we go off-road," she said. "We don’t want to go through the checkpoints required to enter Tir Tairngire officially, and this route"—she pointed to the map display—"will still take us to the border. You’re certain about your contacts?" she asked Orion, who nodded.
"Somebody will meet us on the north side of the river and help get us across."
Midnight nodded, but Kellan could see a hint of doubt in her face. Quite frankly, Kellan was surprised to learn that Midnight had relied on Orion’s connections in Tir Tairngire for help. He still knew some people from his days with the Ancients, an elf gang with ties to the elven homeland, and those must be the contacts he used to set up this arrangement. Kellan assumed Midnight must have contacts of her own in the Tir, but she apparently chose not to use them, despite her general dislike and distrust of Orion. Kellan was curious, but as long as Midnight didn’t volunteer any information, she wasn’t going to ask.
They continued off-road with the headlights off. The moon shed very little light on their path, but Midnight maneuvered the van deftly, her elven eyes piercing the pitch-blackness to pick out a safe route. Still, their progress was much slower than it had been on the highway. It took them longer to cover the remaining distance to the border than it had taken to drive the previous leg, which was most of the total distance of the trip. It was nearly midnight by the time the van came to a stop. Kellan collected her gear as they climbed out, and Midnight locked the van.
"Okay, it shouldn’t be far," she said, again studying the GPS. "Let’s go, and keep an eye out."
They hiked the rest of the way to the river, which ran north and west of the city. Kellan tried to watch for any signs of trouble as they went, but she had a hard time even seeing where she was going, and generally found the wilderness unnerving. She was a child of the urban environment, and the Awakened wilderness made her jumpy—a feeling reinforced by her last trip out of Seattle, when several things had tried to kill her. On that last trip, she’d had the magical safety net of a skilled and experienced shaman to rely on for help in dealing with the scary things that went bump in the Awakened night. This time, she was the only magician on the team, the only one with the skills to deal with hostile spirits or other Awakened creatures, aside from the magic of Orion’s blade.
Kellan’s hand strayed repeatedly to the amulet around her neck, her fingers brushing its warm surface for reassurance. Night birds and insects sang in the forest as they made their way toward the river and the city lying on the far side of it. Their progress was almost painfully slow, and they maintained silence as they walked.
After a while, Kellan’s thoughts began to drift. She’d assured Orion that last night was no big deal to her, but was that really true? Kellan considered herself to be experienced; she’d had to grow up quickly on the streets, and she’d had her share of fun, but never a serious boyfriend, and certainly not a relationship. She felt there wasn’t much room for that in the life she’d chosen. Listen to me, she thought. Like one night makes this a relationship. The whole idea was ridiculous, to even—
"Down!" Midnight hissed, snapping Kellan’s attention suddenly back to the present. She and the others dropped into a crouch near the trunk of a huge tree. "Don’t move!"
Suddenly, Kellan heard a thumping sound. It took her a moment to figure out it was coming from above them, and she was shocked when she identified it as the sound of heavy leather wings beating the air. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze, like a mouse suddenly trapped in the open as a dark shadow passes overhead.
The sound got louder. Orion’s hand wrapped slowly and deliberately around the exposed hilt of his sword, but he didn’t draw it. Midnight pressed herself against the tree trunk, GPS monitor held against her stomach to smother any light, head tilted back to catch every sound.
A wind stirred the branches overhead and a shadow blotted out the light of the stars and the moon. Leaves rustled and Kellan had the impression of a powerful bulk flying just above the treetops. Moments after it passed, a piercing cry split the night—the high-pitched call of a hunter. It sent shivers down her spine as it echoed in the dark.
It seemed like forever before the sound of the wing beats faded away, before Midnight signaled they could move, before Kellan felt like she could breathe once more. She stood, a bit stiffly, as Midnight took up the lead again. Kellan skipped a few steps ahead to catch up with her.
"What the hell was that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "A dragon?"
Midnight shook her head. "Too small to be a dragon," she replied matter-of-factly. "Probably a wyvern. This area is full of them."
Full of them? Kellan thought, glancing in the direction she thought the creature had flown. Frag, what the hell had she gotten herself into?
They reached the shores of the Columbia River a few hours before dawn. On the far side of the river, they could see the lights of the city of Portland and, only meters from the south bank of the river, the Portland Wall.
It rose some ten meters high, formed out of gray ferrocrete and topped with coils of razor wire. It ran along the river as far
as Kellan could see in either direction, surrounding the city that stood on the very edge of the elven nation. On the other side of the river was Tir Tairngire, the Land of Promise, the secure homeland established by elves, where they could live by their own rules. It was clear they didn’t like uninvited visitors.
Midnight stowed the GPS and they stood in the cover of the trees along the bank. Kellan turned to Orion, who had his head cocked to one side, his eyes with a distant look, as if listening for something.
"When do these contacts of yours get here?" she asked. Orion’s eyes shifted over to her, then down from her face toward her chest.
"They’re here already," he said quietly, and Kellan looked down to see a small red dot of laser light painted in the middle of her chest. Reflexively, her hand went toward her gun.
"Telego carronasto!" a voice spoke quietly but commandingly from the shadows. "Do not move!" Orion caught Kellan’s eye and nodded slightly, but she didn’t feel all that reassured.
"We’ve brought the payment we agreed on," Orion said. "Delarosa."
A tall, slim figure stepped from the shadows of a tree only a few meters away. She was dressed in black and dark forest green, a commando-style pullover with pads of reinforced material at the shoulders and elbows, fatigue pants and laced-up boots. The hands holding the pistol trained at Kellan didn’t waver, nor did her dark eyes. Her hair was cut short, such that Kellan took her for a man at first.
"I hope your credit is better than your Sperethiel," the woman said with a lilting accent.
"It’s good," Orion affirmed. "Haven’t we always dealt fairly with you?"
A tight mockery of a smile tugged at the corners of the elf woman’s mouth. "You Ancients aren’t interested in things like fairness, or responsibility."
"Some of us are."
"You usually don’t last long. Still," she slowly lowered the pistol and Kellan allowed herself to breathe again. "A deal is a deal, and we don’t reject anyone’s credit."
Orion nodded, his hand slowly reaching inside his jacket. He withdrew a credstick and held it out to the woman, who approached and plucked it from his hand.
"Half now, half on the other side," he said, "as agreed. You can check it, if you want."
"No need," she replied, stowing the credstick in one of the pockets on her belt. "Since I assume you also intend to leave the city at some point, and will need our assistance in doing so. If things aren’t in order . . ." she shrugged, leaving the threat unfinished. "This way," she told them. Midnight followed the woman without comment, with Orion and Kellan walking close behind. Kellan became aware of the feeling of being watched, and wondered how many associates the elven woman had close at hand, in case there was trouble. Her eyes swept the trees, but she could see nothing in the dark shadows around them.
"Who is she?" she whispered to Orion. "A smuggler? Shadowrunner?"
He shook his head slightly. "Rinelle," he said quietly. "A rebel. The Rinelle ke’Tesrae group sometimes cut deals with the Ancients." Kellan wanted to ask more, but thought better of it while the woman was still leading them.
She brought them to a spot on the riverbank where a small boat was concealed. When they arrived, a male elf, dressed in the same fashion as the woman, emerged from the shadows and silently began helping remove the camo netting over the small craft, balling it up and stowing it under the bench seats.
"Get in." the woman said, and the shadowrunners climbed on board.
"Stay down and stay quiet," she told them, and she and the man took oars from the bottom of the boat. Kellan could see the craft was fitted with an outboard motor, but they made no move to start it. Instead, they paddled slowly and quietly. Kellan crouched in the seat in the prow of the boat, glancing at the dark waters of the river and the wall looming higher as they approached. They were committed. There was no going back now.
Chapter 10
Lothan closed the book with a sigh after reading the same paragraph for what was probably the tenth time. Though the new text on enchanting he’d acquired was interesting, there were other things occupying his mind, despite his best efforts to banish those thoughts.
Standards, he chided himself silently, standards. After all, he didn’t like it when others paid too much attention to his business, and he tried to offer them the same professional courtesy, so long as it didn’t cost him anything, but Kellan . . .
Lothan snorted quietly in the dimness of his study. Kellan. She was an oddity in his life, to say the least. Lothan had been working in the shadows of Seattle longer than many of his fellow shadowrunners had been alive. He’d earned an enviable reputation as a master of the arcane arts, and also as a shrewd professional, who knew his business and delivered on his promises. He took reasonable pride in that reputation, and made it a point never to let personal feelings interfere with business.
Kellan was not Lothan’s first student. Though she may well be my last, the troll thought soberly. She was certainly not the first young shadowrunner he’d taken under his wing. What was it about her that held his attention so? She was talented, but not the most gifted magician Lothan had ever encountered. She had spirit, an inner drive to succeed, that reminded him of his younger days, even if she was almost completely lacking in the foresight and discretion Lothan cultivated, and had from his earliest days in the business. No, there was something more to Kellan Colt, much as the old mage didn’t like to admit it.
Perhaps it was the mystery surrounding her, a mystery even Kellan didn’t understand. She had been told that the amulet she wore came from her mother, about whom she knew very little. It was a unique item of power, unlike anything Lothan had seen before. How did Kellan’s mother come to have it, and why did she entrust it to a daughter who didn’t even know her?
Lothan idly flipped through pages of the book, no longer looking at the words and diagrams, lost in thought. The amulet was certainly a curiosity, and he would have wanted to know more about it under any circumstances. But the amulet itself wasn’t the real mystery, in his opinion. The thing nagging at his mind wasn’t the amulet, it was who was interested in it, and why.
As a shadowrunner, Lothan was used to doing things without knowing why his employer wanted them done. But he also knew from bitter experience the importance of not running entirely blind. He always did his best to maintain a balance between professional discretion and necessary caution, and it was that foresight that had kept him from running into a number of pitfalls over the years.
Still, he saw no downside to things when Midnight had contacted him years ago and asked him to keep an eye out for a particular objet d'arcane, some trinket she was interested in. He didn’t ask why or what it was, since he knew she wouldn’t tell him, anyway. Instead, he did as he said he would and kept the item’s description in mind in case it should happen to cross his path—which it did the night G-Dogg first brought Kellan to see him.
The old troll sighed heavily, snapping the book shut. He had misplayed the whole matter with the amulet by not telling Kellan of Midnight’s interest sooner. Instead, Midnight had been the one to tell Kellan, and to tell her how she knew Kellan’s mother, a shadowrunner who went by the street name Mustang. Her disclosure made it seem that he, and not Midnight, was keeping things from Kellan—that he, and not Midnight, was untrustworthy, when Lothan knew there had to be some ulterior motive for Midnight’s interest—an interest beyond curiosity regarding the fate of a former business associate or her offspring. That was the mystery nagging at Lothan, the question to which he felt he must find the answer. What was Midnight’s angle? It wasn’t sentiment, he knew that for certain.
He told himself it was none of his business. Kellan was a big girl and a professional. She chose to work the shadows and she chose her own associates. Lothan was her instructor in the magical arts, not her guru, her mentor, and certainly not her surrogate parent. It wasn’t his job to—
"Oh, fraggit," Lothan sighed. He took his pocket secretary from the pouch on his belt. The flatscreen sprang to life at h
is touch.
"‘Call Jackie," he told it, and the numbers flashed across the screen as it connected to the local telecom grid address. The waiting light flashed for a moment, then the image on the screen changed to that of a cartoon girl, dark hair held back by a circuit diagram headband, tiny mouth curled up in a smile when she saw him.
"Hello. Lothan."
"Jackie, I need you to find some information."
"Sure thing," she chirped. "Usual rates?"
"Of course."
"What do you want to know?"
"I’d like you to find out more about Toshiro Akimura’s recent activities, in particular, his apparent interest in Kellan."
There was no change in the icon’s expression, but Lothan imagined he could hear a note of curiosity in Jackie's voice. "Kellan bring you in on it?" she asked.
"Of course," he replied, without missing a beat. "She was in need of some guidance."
The decker nodded. "Well, I told her I would find out more if I could, but Akimura is actually covering his tracks pretty well. I suspect that’s why he hired Kellan to delete the information about him in the cyberclinic’s records."
Lothan nodded sagely, since Jackie could see him through the comm unit's tiny camera—or by any number of other means, if she chose. "Hmmm, no doubt," he said. "Well, whatever else you can find would be appreciated."
"Null sheen," she said. "Hey, how’s Kellan doing?"
"Oh, fine," Lothan replied. "She's just a bit concerned. I suspect even she wonders if she might be in over her head."
Jackie nodded knowingly. "I’ll let you know anything I find out."
"Many thanks," he said, hitting the end button to terminate the call.
So, Kellan had already gone to Jackie about Akimura. He wondered what Jackie had told her, but he didn’t want the decker to know that he was making inquiries without Kellan’s knowledge—not just yet, anyway. He had another way of finding out more about Kellan’s newly acquired trouble.
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