Agents of Order

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by T. R. Cameron


  When she reached the middle, she stopped, turned, and rested her hands on the railing in front of her. Sloan shuddered at the memory of the rage within her, visible in the way her fists clenched around the metal. She nodded at the magical side of the room, then repeated the process with the other half, her lips twisted with a hint of distaste. Imperfect self-control, which fits with what I saw in her mind. He took another couple of steps away from the witch and circled behind a group of tough-looking men wearing matching biker jackets. Marcus had cast a wide net to find warriors for his cause, whatever it was.

  Sarah’s voice seemed to echo, filled with a confidence he knew she didn’t truly feel. “My people. You are deserving of thanks. For weeks, we have shown those in this city what true power looks like, taking what we want when we want it without fear of interruption or prosecution.” That’s one way to look at it. You could also contend that by doing small jobs, you stayed off the radar enough that no one cares. “But now, we are called upon to do more.”

  There was laughter behind him from where Marcus stood, now surrounded by the leaders of the various groups that made up his power base. A brief tilt of her head indicated that Sarah had taken note of it before she continued without a change in demeanor. “It is time to think bigger. We must plan something so impactful, so audacious, that no one will see it coming. And I have exactly the thing.”

  She gazed at her audience, and Sloan flashed on her again. This time, he heard her thoughts. We will get him to come here, and in the confusion, eliminate him. It wasn’t clear who she was thinking of, but a trill of fear vibrated within that it might be him before he discarded the idea. He was a small fish, and the level of antipathy she felt was enormous.

  “When we were tasked to attack the stadium in Philadelphia, it was a ruse to draw out the enemy and eliminate them. A good strategic move, but one that met with only partial success due to failures by many who are no longer with us.” Her smile was thin-lipped and cold. “We will do better here. A multi-pronged assault will separate rather than concentrate their forces, allowing us to defeat and destroy them. It will take the commitment and skills of everyone in this room, and others who have yet to join us.”

  He looked around and discovered that the people on both sides of the floor had been captivated by her words. Heads nodded, and the assorted criminals talked softly but with clear excitement at the plan. She finished the message perfectly. “And once we have destroyed them, the city will be ours for the taking.” She gave a single decisive nod and turned to return to her office. Marcus strode forward and trailed her up the stairs.

  Mur stepped beside Sloan and shook his head. “I might be a pessimist, but this seems like a bad idea.”

  He sighed. “I’m right there with you. I guess we’d better get to planning our end before our leader comes back and wants to know what we’ve come up with.” The other man clapped him on the shoulder, and they headed to a distant corner to talk privately.

  Sarah had barely settled behind the desk with an exasperated sigh when Marcus entered in a haze of anger. She gave him a thin grin and nodded to the seat on the opposite side. He shut the door gently rather than the dramatic slam she had expected and lowered himself into the chair.

  His voice was slow and sleepy, which she’d learned was an indication that he was at his most dangerous. She slipped her backup wand carefully from its hidden sheath and held it under the desk as he spoke. “So, Sarah, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Last I checked, we were working together.”

  She nodded. “Indeed. But I have had conversations with Dreven that you have not been privy to, and he has charged us with this task.” She kept her voice level so he wouldn’t detect the lie. She had spoken with their leader, that much was true, but the rest was on her own initiative. The wizard had appeared distracted and disengaged, which seemed to confirm what Iressa had told her about his current situation. Once the plan is in place and we are committed, he will have no option but to come and join us to ensure its success.

  Her human counterpart shook his head. “And it never occurred to you to discuss this matter with me before you shared it with our people?”

  Sarah grinned. “Of course it did. I chose not to. It’s not as if we have much choice, anyway, given our orders. What was there to talk about, really?”

  The faintest whir carried across the desk as he raised his mechanical arm and she tensed, relaxing only when he had finished adjusting his hair and returned the limb to its neutral position. His expression revealed that he’d done it deliberately and was pleased with the result. He seemed thoughtful for a moment as he sat in silence, then shrugged and rose from the chair. “You’re right. It seems as if there’s only a single path forward. For now.”

  He departed, but the menace in his words lingered after him. I need to convince Iressa that he needs to die sooner rather than later. Much sooner. She waved her wand to close and ward the door, leaned back and closed her eyes, and set her mind free to invent clever ways to have Marcus killed.

  Chapter Seven

  Diana had been shocked when Nylotte summoned the tray holding the teapot and cups before their training session. Normally, the Dark Elf—the other Dark Elf—reserved beverages and conversation for after she’d reduced her student to an exhausted, sweaty mess. The tea set was different as well, a lacquered orange-red with some kind of ideographs sketched on it.

  The drink itself was deeply flavored and bitter, befitting its claim of “smoked.” It popped on the tongue and was harsh on the swallow. Either the taste or the caffeine, or both, was potent enough to increase her alertness level with each sip. Her teacher hadn’t spoken and only nodded at her arrival and served the brew. And I sure as hell won’t say anything until she does. That’s asking for trouble.

  Nylotte’s outfit was also unusual. She had foregone her normal clinging clothes in favor of a loose kimono-like top in a deeper red than the tea set. It was folded closed but didn’t appear to have a belt or any other fastener to hold it that way. She laughed inwardly at the thought of the uppity woman using Velcro on her wardrobe, then sobered as the Drow placed her cup carefully on the tray and rotated it into the desired position. Damn. She’s concerned about something.

  Diana set her own mug down and focused her attention on her teacher. Nylotte tucked a strand of her white hair behind an elegantly pointed ear and sighed. “As much as I do not wish to be wrapped up in the nonsense going on in this city other than through your training, it appears I have no option. Lady Alayne has spoken quietly to several members of the community about the growing discord in the kemana.”

  She nodded. “Does she continue to blame us for it?”

  The elf laughed. “She does. I think it is more about keeping the general peace down here than actually believing you are responsible, though. She has not come out and said so, but it is readily apparent that she does not wish you, or anyone above, ill.” The agent ran a hand over her forehead to wipe away imaginary sweat, and the other woman smiled. “That does not change the fact that the Remembrance has gained traction here, where we all assumed such things were impossible.”

  She frowned. “I’ve wondered about that for a while. Why have you considered yourself protected here?”

  “Those who make their homes in Stonesreach mostly seek to disengage from Earth. I presume the same is true for a majority of those who opt for kemana life, but I don’t know that for certain. As a result, we inhabit a kind of middle ground between the worlds. Why, then, would we involve ourselves with the very thing we avoid by choosing to live here?”

  “I can see that, I guess. But if you wish to remain apart from the doings of this planet, why not return to Oriceran?”

  The Drow smiled thinly. “There are many reasons.” She waved a hand. “All are irrelevant, in any case. But it appears that the issues from above have spread here, and more widely than anyone anticipated.”

  Diana tilted her head to the side and fixed her teacher with a hard look. “You sound like you�
�re referring to something specific rather than generalizing.”

  “Indeed.” She nodded. “There have been several incidents of what you would call graffiti celebrating the words of Rhazdon from long ago. Incitements, threats, that kind of thing.”

  “And is there no way to trace the ones who created them?”

  “It was attempted, of course, but with no success. The culprits masked their magic well.”

  She sighed. “And now you are involved. Why? Because of me?”

  Nylotte shook her head. “I would have been a part of the discussion regardless because of the place I hold as one of the community’s longest-standing members. Every Kemana needs a person who can buy and sell things that are, shall we say, slightly outside the norm.”

  It was the closest her teacher had ever come to admitting to anything patently against the rules. She felt a momentary surge of concern but remembered she’d already been over that ground and found the woman trustworthy. Besides, who am I to judge? My hands aren’t exactly spotless. Her mental voice manifested out of nowhere. “Are we going to discuss your failures? I have so many to talk about!” Diana visualized pitching an imaginary fireball at her, and her internal avatar fled, laughing.

  She cleared her throat. “So, is there any way I can help?”

  Her teacher snorted as she rose and levitated the tray with her. “Take care of your nonsense above as quickly as possible so the nonsense below fails as well.”

  Diana matched her motion. “That easy? Consider it done.” Exactly what I needed, another thing to worry about. The warning from Sloan that something big involving a stadium was imminent never strayed far from her mind but fortunately, the baseball team was out of town for a few more days. The day they returned was an ugly one, from a strategic standpoint, as there were evening events at both stadiums. They’d already alerted the authorities and been denied AET support from nearby cities, which were having their own issues. She banished the myriad of worries into the future and focused on dealing with the here and now.

  Their cushions flew out of the space as her teacher returned to the circle, having discarded the flowing robe to reveal her normal garb of tight leather pants, boots, and the same embroidered black top she’d worn the first time they’d met. Diana was in hers as well—tactical pants, boots, and a concert t-shirt, today’s selection a retro Billy Idol look. They took their customary positions opposite one another and exchanged nods before Nylotte threw a fireball at her head.

  The agent summoned her own fire and shaped it into a curved buckler to bat the flaming sphere away. The Drow waved her hand and the ball stopped moving, then curved to the right in another searing attack. She mixed her magics, using telekinesis to slow it and the fire shield to smack it back. Her teacher responded by adding a second one, then a third, until they were engaged in some kind of odd multi-object tennis match.

  The training style that had evolved between them as her skills grew was taxing, and she was aware of her strength flowing away. Nylotte called, “Siphon,” and Diana gritted her teeth. As a means of extending her battle ability, the other woman had tried to teach her to draw power from incoming attacks as she defended against them. It required her to divide her attention, which inevitably resulted in one of the strikes breaking through. Still, she obeyed and pulled from the spheres when they impacted her shield to refill her reservoir of strength.

  Her opponent added another sphere, and she did a decent job of dealing with it, but the fifth was too much. She yelped in pain as it caught her bare forearm and burned her and immediately raised several blisters. Expecting an attack to follow, she walled the agony off, but her teacher handed her a healing potion instead. “Only a sip, enough to reduce it to a light burn. We don’t want you to pass out after the session.”

  Diana nodded and followed her instructions, then returned the vial. The Drow used her magic to trace a human figure in the air made of light, sketching a body with an oval of flame that flickered in one hand, connected to a long line that reached into the middle where a glowing ball pulsed. “This is what you are doing.” She pointed at the shield. “You gather the power here and send it along this path.” A flickering dot traveled into the center. “Then, you draw it forth again to use in your defense.” It sped in the opposite direction. “Instead, why not employ it immediately?”

  She frowned and tried to understand how she might do such a thing. “I get the idea. I’m not sure how to accomplish it, though.”

  Her teacher shrugged. “Now that you have the concept, your magical self will work on it in the background. Today, our goal is different.”

  The agent shook her stinging arm and clapped briskly. “All right, what’ll it be?”

  “Ice.” She only had time to think bloody hell before the attacks were on their way. She reacted instinctively and summoned a wave of force to turn the spikes in midair and hurl them at the other woman. Her opponent made a lifting gesture with both hands, and the shards rose, turned, and rained down on her. By then, she had a force buckler ready to deflect them. She tried to draw energy from them but couldn’t manage it and felt the strength flowing out of her again.

  The attack ceased, and her instructor paced before her. “You have good reflexes but you cannot draw from a dissimilar power. So, to extract the energy from ice, you will need to create ice.”

  Diana groaned. She’d had almost no luck with ice so far. “Do you have any suggestions?”

  Her teacher nodded. “One. Escape, or die.” She raised her hands and before the agent could react, two cones of frost emerged, washed up and down over her, and encased her in a block of ice. She couldn’t move and couldn’t breathe, and immediately began to panic. Nylotte’s voice sounded in her head. “Stay calm. You can do this. Now, expand your senses and investigate where the magic is touching you.”

  She did as she was told and drew upon her earlier lessons in power absorption to worm her way into the ice with her mind. She saw the individual crystals and how they were bound together. When the stars from lack of oxygen began, she mistook them for part of the ice at first. Fear set in, but she pushed it down ruthlessly and stretched her mind further. Nylotte won’t let me die. Probably. But I don’t want to fail. At the edge of consciousness, she found the magic that held the elements in place despite their desire to surrender to the room’s temperature.

  The block collapsed as she drew that connective power into her, and she sucked a deep breath in greedily as she dropped to one knee. She took a moment to collect herself, then rose to face her teacher, her hands clenched at her sides. Frost gathered around them, and she thrust them both out abruptly. Spheres of ice careened across the distance to the Drow in an instant, struck her in the chest, and passed straight through. The illusion vanished, and Diana spun to find Nylotte sitting on a storage crate, watching her.

  She clapped slowly, half-sincere and half-mocking. “Well done, my student. You've found the key to ice. It will be a simple matter for you to learn how to pull it with your shield once you accomplish the same with fire.”

  “Was it entirely necessary to freeze me?”

  The Dark Elf shrugged. “Necessary? Perhaps not. Effective? Obviously. Fun?” She grinned. “Definitely.”

  Diana shook her head, then realized she felt much less exhausted than normal after a training session. She remarked on it, and her teacher nodded. “The energy you absorbed has essentially refueled you.”

  She stretched and felt the pops in her spine as her bones cracked. “I could get used to this.”

  The other woman turned serious. “All the more reason to locate the sword, my protégé. Once you've fully bonded with it, the weapon can act as a repository for power and give you additional resources should you find yourself in need.”

  The thought of that much magic at hand made her heart leap, but a sudden realization made it drop an equal amount. “Is it the same with Rhazdon’s Defense?”

  “Good intuition. Yes, it is. That, also, is able to store energy for its user.”
<
br />   “So someone wearing it will possess more ability to use magic here on Earth before becoming exhausted.” She nodded. “Damn.”

  “That does about sum it up.” The Drow cast a portal that led to the corner of Diana’s bedroom, always kept clear for such things. “Now, go and find a way to bring these Remembrance idiots to heel before I have to deal with them down here, please.”

  Diana touched the brim of an imaginary hat. “As you wish, oh wise one.” She skipped through the rift before her teacher could counter. Ha. I had the last word for once. That’ll teach her to lock me in an ice cube.

  Chapter Eight

  Chan grinned when Rath and Max trotted up to the entrance of the community center. The troll smiled at his teacher and did a backflip off the dog’s back, growing to his three-foot size by the time they’d reached him. He offered a fist, and the older man bumped it.

  “Thank you for coming, Rath.”

  “Thank you for inviting. Must train.”

  The teacher swung the door open with a laugh and ushered them inside. Each of the previous training sessions with the man had been different. The first was very basic, and Rath had left it in possession of the pair of throwing knives that rested in the dog’s harness. When he’d received them, they were dull and nicked. Since then, the ARES agents had taught him how to care for them and provided him with his own whetstone to use every day to keep them sharp and true. It was a calming ritual he performed before bed or before a patrol, depending on the night.

  The second time had been all about accuracy. He'd thrown blades until his arms were sore but his aim improved with each toss. Well, almost each toss. The one that clattered off the wall near Chan was not a representative example.

 

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