The Archimage's Fourth Daughter

by Lyndon Hardy

  Maurice called the others again and relayed what he had just learned. All of the exiles were going somewhere else — all except one who for some reason was staying. He felt a flush of panic as he recalled what he had heard. ‘Remain until the climate here changes.’ What did that mean? Briana had explained that even after the SF6 was in the volcanoes, there was a final step to be performed before it was in the air. Were any of these aliens the ones involved with that?

  And ‘I am the last one,’ the exile had said. When he left, the portal might disappear. There would be no trace. No clue for what to do next. Maurice looked around the room and then focused on the swathing coiled on the floor. English, they understand English, he thought. In a flash, he knew what he had to do.

  MAURICE CAUTIOUSLY emerged from the hut while the exile and whatever it was continued to argue. The swathing felt cumbersome, and he was not sure he had managed to cover himself completely. Some of it had been missing — the bandages for Fig when he was wounded. And he had to use some more to cover his boots. But there was no other choice.

  The being turned when he heard the creak of the door. “Dinton!” he cried. “You have changed your mind! Wonderful! If only we knew where Angus had vanished to, if he were still alive… But no matter. Together, brother, together, we will return and wrest back what is ours.”

  Maurice nodded, not trusting himself to say a word.

  “You go next, brother. Enter the portal and exit on the other side. I will be last after I say goodbye to my… to my — ”

  Maurice heard what could have been a slight choke in the voice of the other, but he could not be sure. He took a deep breath, already beginning to feel discomfort from how hot it was to be completely swathed, and entered the magic portal.

  Plan the Work, Then Work the Plan

  ASHLEY WATCHED Briana punching savagely at the remote. It did not respond.

  “We will have to figure out this problem later,” the younger woman said. “I’ll probably have to put another boot on it. But now with Fig here, at least we have four of us. Let’s go.”

  “Remember, Briana,” Ashley said. “Plan the work first.” The stakes were too high. She was going to have to slow this whirlwind down.

  “There are the four guys on the dock and at least one inside,” Jake said. “Maurice is the only one who really knows karate or whatever it is he can do. He looked at Fig and frowned. “I’m only an amateur, and Fig…”

  “And the woman at the front desk,” Ashley nodded. “Even if she is blind, we are outnumbered.” She was silent for a moment, then continued. “Three locations separated from one another. Perhaps we should take advantage of that. A fresh thought suddenly blossomed. Like… like Nelson at Trafalgar,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” Briana asked. “Concentration of force is a well-known tactic. At least it is on Murdina.”

  Ashley steeled herself. She was going to have to do something she never would have even contemplated in her former life. Then she felt something new. Just as when she had followed the truck to Kilauea, there was a thrill in this as well.

  “I will take one of the motor scooters to a sporting goods store. Don’t do anything until I return.”

  “Wait! What?” Jake said.

  “Trust me on this,” Ashley said. “I have a plan. Nelson at Trafalgar. Lanchester Square Law. I did some operations research work on it when I was at USX.” Without another word, she kicked the scooter to life and sped off.

  TWENTY MINUTES later, Ashley returned. “Okay, here’s the plan. Briana, you go in the front door and distract the receptionist. That will allow Jake and Fig to slip by her and get into the main warehouse floor without creating an alarm.

  “And the thugs on the loading dock?” Jake asked.

  “I’m getting to that,” Ashley said. “Briana, you certainly will be able to handle the receptionist — a superior force there. And Jake and Fig will outnumber the guy in the hoodie two to one. Yes, it would be great if Maurice were here, but this is the best we can do — two to one.”

  “You’re forgetting about the thugs,” Fig said.

  “That’s where I come in,” Ashley said. She took in another gulp of air. Was she really going to be doing this? “I will distract them.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” Fig said.

  “No more so than what you and Jake will have to face,” Ashley replied. She could tell that her voice did not carry the conviction she was used to using at USX, but that is what had to be. “You see, Nelson faced a larger French fleet at Trafalgar. He broke his own line of ships into two groups, and they crossed the tee — ”

  “Never mind the details,” Briana cut her off. “Jake, Fig, Let’s head for the lobby now, before anyone of us changes his…” She glanced at Ashley. “Or her mind.”

  FIG AND Jake followed Briana into the lobby. Ursula looked up from her Braille keyboard at the sound. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “We are here to see Mr. Angus,” Briana said. Now, with the operation in motion, her feeling of pique faded away. Ashley was right. Barging in and raising a ruckus had not been a very good idea. As she spoke, Fig and Jake stepped quietly to the side toward the door opening into the office behind.

  “Mr. Angus has no appointments on his calendar,” Ursula said. “My name is Ursula Price. Please tell me why you want to see him, and I will try to set up a meeting for you.”

  “Well, here’s the thing,” Briana raised her voice as the door behind came open, and Fig vanished inside. Jake followed, but did not put his hand behind him to cushion the click of the latch.

  “What was that?” Ursula said, alarmed. “How many of you are here?” She rose, picked up a letter opener. “Get out! Get out before I call my nephew and his friends from the loading dock.” She waved the opener in front of her. “I can defend myself if I have to.”

  Reflexively, Briana pulled her dagger from her belt and turned to face the blind woman as she came closer. Her first duel with an armed opponent! But against someone who was blind? And wielding a blade that was dull? She scowled at the way her thoughts were going. No, definitely nothing for the sagas.

  Briana took a hesitant step backward, but Ursula took two to close the distance between them. “Mr. Angus has been so generous to me,” Ursula said. “I would do anything for him, anything he says. And he was most clear no one was to go behind this lobby unless he explicitly told me to let them pass.”

  “I… I really don’t want to hurt you,” Briana said, “but I have a blade much sharper than yours.”

  “Mr. Angus has been so generous to me.” Ursula took another step forward. “I would do anything for him, anything.”

  ASHLEY PUTTED into the parking lot next to the loading dock. She had discarded her Kevlar vest and miner lamp ‘helmet.’ Unlike most women of her age, she continued to wear her hair long. Men seemed to like it that way. Maybe a few curls wafting in the breeze would give her an added chance to approach without being challenged.

  “Hey, pretty mama,” one of the thugs called out as she neared. “Are you lost?”

  Ashley did not answer. She swung the scooter parallel to the dock and waited. The thug who had spoken first came to kneel down and look at her.

  “What are you carrying?” He pointed at the paint gun concealed in its original bag from the store.

  “You’ll see in a moment,” Ashley said. Her heart started thumping. The guy was young, wearing an undershirt with no sleeves. Tattoos covered both arms. Like a jack-o-lantern, his face was filled with a big smile, but it was clear it was fake. It did little to cover the mean streak barely underneath.

  The three others came to crouch next to the first. Two extended their hands, offering to lift her off her ride.

  Now or never, Ashley thought. She ripped the covering aside, and then, splat, splat, splat, splat. The gun blasted dye into each of the startled faces.

  “Bitch,” the first one yelled, and vaulted to the macadam in front of the scooter. “Who put you up to
this? Was it the Cryptos over on Palele?”

  Ashley reved the engine and popped the clutch. The scooter vaulted forward, and the thug in her way jumped aside. She roared out of the parking lot and onto the street, turning into traffic as quick as she could.

  That was easy, she thought as she began to speed away. Then she jammed on the brakes. The idea was to lure them, not leave them where they were. She pulled to the side of the road, stopped and waited. For what felt like forever, nothing more happened, but then alerted by the squeal of tires, she saw a car round on to the street. One of the thugs leaned out of the passenger window pointing ahead. They were coming after. Now to lead them far away.

  Another thought crept into her head. Part of the plan had not been thought through. Supposed they caught up with her. Then what?

  FIG SURVEYED the office. It was the same as when he had visited before. A desk, computer, and microphone. But with all their little troop had learned, the equipment looked far more sinister than it had before. The exiles had managed to get the SF6 delivered to three volcanoes without exposing any of themselves, not a one. Could it be that words spoken from here by a single individual would be all that was needed to start the catalytic reaction?

  No one followed him and Jake into the office. The loading dock door remained closed. A peek between the shut blinds showed no activity on the warehouse floor. If the one with the hoodie were still here, he would have to be behind the door at the far end of the floor.

  Fig tried the knob for the opening onto the warehouse proper. It turned, and soon he and Jake crossed through. Nervously, he clasped and unclasped the pommel of his sword. Guns would have been better, but with the background checks and delays, that was not an option. Anyway, Briana seemed quite comfortable with the idea of blades. Where she came from, they were natural — the weapons of choice. The assumption was, however, that whomever they encountered would be armed no better.

  His heart started to race. This was totally unlike how he had imagined things, nothing like an adventure in a book. This was the real thing. Five of them against aliens who could work magic. They were in way over their heads.

  Walking quietly across the warehouse floor was not easy. With many of the gas cylinders gone and only the production line on the far wall, the structure was almost empty. Footfalls, even soft ones echoed off the high ceiling.

  After carefully striding, step by careful step, the pair reached the door of the rectangle jutting into the warehouse floor in the far corner. Fig placed his hand on the door as he had done at Oscar’s hut, and then pulled it away. It was hot to the touch, even hotter than when he had tested one before.

  Fig put his hand on the knob and grimaced. He was going to get a burn from this so had to move swiftly. With a twist, he torqued the handle and pushed. The door swung inward, and a blast of impossibly hot air roared out. Both he and Jake entered.

  Inside, a startled figure rose to its feet. It was… impossible to describe. Covered with dense hair from head to toe. Deep-set eyes and fangs protruding from a mouth open in surprise. It wore a tunic and had a small dagger strapped to its side. In an instant, the blade was drawn, and the creature roared.

  Fig looked about. The room was almost entirely empty. A chair in the middle with a cluster of clothing on one side. A single sheet of paper, seeming oddly out of place, lay on the otherwise bare floor. An oven, no, a kiln with a slit in the side glowing almost orange-red pulsed angry heat into the air.

  Fig and Jake stood transfixed. Their swords were both drawn, but they pointed to the ground, not ready to challenge the creature when he charged.

  The Spoils of Victory

  BRIANA EYED the letter opener coming closer. She tried sliding to the side, but either Ursula’s hearing was very good or the blind woman had guessed what she had done. What would one of her cadre do in this situation? What would Ashley do?

  The older woman would think before she acted, of course. Briana pulled her lips into a grim line. But in this situation, it looked like there would be little time for that.

  “Were you born without sight?” Briana suddenly blurted. Something to distract the woman from what she was set upon doing.

  “No, a childhood accident,” Ursula said. “Lived in a home. Needed help all my life… until Mr. Angus came along.

  A bubble of an idea started to wiggle in Briana’s mind. “He has helped you a great deal, right?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I wonder,” Briana said. She stepped back to facing Ursula head on. “Why did you pull a weapon when you heard the door latch click? Wouldn’t it have been better to call the police?

  “Mr. Angus is a very private person. He would not care to deal with the interruption.”

  “You suspect whatever he is doing is illegal, don’t you? Maybe not on the surface, but certainly deep down inside. Hiring a blind person to handle whomever might come by. Yes, I know, it sounds wonderful, but don’t you think it is at least a little bit odd?”

  “He is a very generous person.”

  “You thought we were from a rival. Ursula, didn’t you? Briana kept the patter going. “But we are not. If Mr. Angus is not doing anything he shouldn’t, then there is nothing to worry about, right?”

  “I could lose my job!” Ursula shouted. “The instructions were clear. ‘Do not let anyone beyond my office.’ He did not say it, but it was strongly implied. Or… or else I would be sent back to the home. To sit around a table, listen to idle chatter. Listen to the click of the clock until the next meal. Until the end of another day without purpose, without use.”

  “Why the letter opener rather than the phone?” Briana persisted.

  Ursula began to weep. “I could lose my job,” she choked.

  Briana reached out and touched Ursula gently on the arm. “Put down the opener. You will not need it. Return to your seat. If Mr. Angus is displeased, then I will take all of the blame. You tried to stop us. You did as you were told.

  Ursula continued sobbing. “He is a good man. He has to be. It is a misunderstanding. You will see.”

  “Come,” Briana said as she sheathed her dagger and headed for the inner door. “Resume your duties. I will tell you everything I learn.”

  ASHLEY PRESSED the scooter’s gas pedal to the floor. The little engine complained as it reved higher, doing little to help. The car following was gaining ground. How was she going to make this work, she thought. Keep close enough so the thugs would continue to chase. But not so close that they would catch.

  Up ahead there was a long line of cars at a red light. She cut almost to the gutter and streaked up to the intersection. Her rearview mirror showed her pursuers had to come to a stop at least a dozen cars back.

  The light turned green, and Ashley cut sharply to the right. It would take a few moments for the intersection to clear, and she would gain back some of the initial distance she had lost. The side street was deserted, and for a few precious moments, she bent down behind the windshield and soared along.

  But eventually, the dark car reappeared. With a throaty roar, it accelerated to close once again. The light ahead turned yellow and then, as Ashley reached the intersection, red. She closed her eyes and kept her foot on the accelerator, hoping she would burst through before any cross traffic started to move.

  When she looked back, she heard screeching brakes. Cross traffic was moving. The thugs were blocked. While the seconds passed, her distance grew until she could no longer make out any of the occupants, only a deep gray fading into total darkness in the car’s interior.

  The entrance to a side street drew closer. Ducking down it and then another turn would make her safe and then… Ashley slammed on the brakes. Not good. They have still to be in pursuit. Coasting to a complete stop at the intersection, she contemplated what to do. She pivoted from side to side, eyeing the roadway ahead as well as to the left and right.

  The building closest to her looked as if it had been abandoned years before. Litter piled against where the stucco met the sid
ewalk. The windows were boarded with weathered wood. Glancing at the structure across the perpendicular street appeared the same — dirty, neglected and uninvited. She thought of something to try.

  Ashley pulled the paint ball gun out of its sling and fired four quick bursts at one of the shuttered windows. The dull grayness sprouted bursts of bright yellow as if eggs had been hurled onto it. Then she rounded the corner and took aim at the building now on her left. After reloading the gun, it too was adorned with a marking that could not be missed. Satisfied, she sped off down the little street.

  They will see the marking and decide I had left them a trail to follow. Perhaps they will think it was an invitation — a game with perhaps pleasures to be the prize when she was finally caught. Why not? Why else would the ‘mama’ leave them a clue?

  Ashley continued zigzagging through the streets of Hilo, blazing a trail at every turn. Finally, using a map downloaded on her phone, she worked her way to the entrance to highway nineteen, the one leading to the national park.

  After she had sped onto the road for a bit, continuing the mark the trail along the way whenever a convenient roadside building presented itself, she stopped and reversed direction, accelerating as fast as she could. It was a gamble, but maybe the twists and turns had slowed the pursuit down to a more leisurely pace. When she reached the first crossing road, she sighed with relief. The thugs were not yet in sight. She turned on it and carefully followed a course taking her back to the warehouse. Her pursuers instead would continue down highway nineteen for a long, long time.

  AS ANGUS closed, Fig gripped his sword with both hands and thrust with an uncertain quaver. The Heretic nimbly stepped a tiny bit to the side, kept coming, and wrapped his free hand around Fig’s extended arm. Simultaneously, he raised his dagger hand high and started to swing downward into Fig’s chest.