A burble among them, That’s not necessary. A flow of amusement followed. Maybe we could help?
"I don't think three gay men are going to assist me in my love life."
"I'm not gay! I'm bi!" Harry protested.
A mental eyeroll from Tom and Richard. "We know."
Anyway, their mental voices remerged, it is odd for familiars to date at all. Far as we know. Can you imagine the relationship models that would spider web through the houses?
How would you know? You've never had a familiar before. Besides, I happened to know of a particular cat who was probably as prolific as availability allowed. I glanced toward the front of the van where Jowls curled up in his shipping box. Jowls, to his credit, hadn't said anything to me, but the fuzzy Romeo was radiating smugness and seemed primed to explode in I-told-you-so’s. The entire van had been silent thus far on the way back to the shop, everyone lost in their own heads, shared or otherwise.
You can do way better than a werewolf anyway, the trio thought with cheer.
If you want to stick to canines, we know a few lovely spell wolves in Las Vegas, Harry added.
I growled, drawing a look from Sandra and Rudy. Rudy for his part was sitting in the open cockpit of the mech and crunching on a bag of cashews he'd pulled from somewhere. "You okay, big guy?" he asked.
"No. But I'll live."
The squirrel nodded and to my complete surprise said nothing more, his own eyes distant.
"Too soon for a rebound then," Richard commented, not really to me.
Well, if she wants her problem resolved, that tangle probably isn't going to fix itself. She'll calm down and come back to you. Maybe apologize, Tom thought.
I slashed her face open. I think we're beyond apologies, I thought bitterly, trying to stamp on all the regrets that seemed to be bubbling to the surface of my mind.
They didn't have an answer for that. Well, Tom was about to ask something, but the others quickly cut him off.
"SO!" Jowls voice boomed through the van, cutting off any more of my wallowing. "You are all technomagi. Give us an analysis."
"We got blown away!" Rudy chirped.
"That wind was a simple channeling, yes?" Sandra said, looking in no particular direction. "And we had no counter to it."
"Despite taking Veronica out of the game, the Blackwings still have us beat in terms of raw magical ability. They're major House magi. You need a strong anchor plane to get membership." Jules grimaced. "Versus technomagi, who as a rule have nearly useless anchors in terms of a fight."
"Hey, we can light a match with Richard's plane!" the trio interjected.
Sandra snorted. "Tom's plane is more useful in a pinch."
"What?" I asked.
"Yes, through the power of the conceptual plane of circuitry I can compel an unfortunate individual to have an overwhelming urge to draw or solder together useless circuitry for a few hours. It’s very useful," Tom said without his companions, a bitter note in his voice.
"Now, now, gentlemen and lady," Jowls tsked. "Let’s refocus on the problem. The rest of the Blackwings were untouched by the wind. They probably had foci to prevent it. There's no reason we can't construct the same, right?"
"Within the next four hours?" Jules inquired. "That’s when the next transition is and it's going to be within town."
"If it's foci then they were probably created by Veronica. With her anchor plane she'll have no trouble creating spells that disrupt kinetic energy," the trio said.
Sandra nodded. "The rest of the Blackwings are kids. Freshly graduated apprentices. Their spellcraft will be poor. Counter their anchor planes and it will take them considerable effort to come up with a counter play."
"So you just need a wind shielding spell right? Just find the right plane and pull it into an object," I said, thinking of the time O'Meara pulled authority into a plastic cop badge.
"Kinetic energy needs to be handled precisely," Jules said. "First you need to find the right plane to use. Too strong and you won't be able to move, too weak and it will be ineffective."
"Harry and I," Tom said, "will work on creating an effective hurricane blocker, but it will take longer than the four-hour window. We suspect once we counter them they'll probably cycle Rinoa to the fore."
"Rinoa's plane can be countered with pair of ear plugs." Jowls chuckled.
"Never the less, Jowls and I have a plan that’s longer term and should remove them from the equation," Jules said.
That sent a bolt of worry through my intestines, and it must have shown on my face.
"Oh don't be such a worry wort, Thomas!" Jules said. "This is a friendly turf scuffle, not a blood feud. Besides, the moment anyone does permanent damage, either the Inquisition or House Morganna will be on us like a ton of bricks"
"Neelius doesn't count?" My tail curled with doubt.
"His death will be laid directly at Veronica's feet. The elders will cluck their tongues and say, 'And this is why you should not duel, child,'" Jowls said, invoking a fair imitation of an elderly grandmother.
"They're not looking to kill us either. This is an ancient game that we're going to play in order to become a true House," the trio said.
The other magi nodded.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It quickly became apparent that the Blackwings knew this game much better than we did. The wind blockers were nowhere near ready when the next transition hit, so it was up to Richard, Rudy, Sandra and I to contest it. Fortunately, the plane that intercepted ours didn't make the ground completely impossible to travel on. None of the munds noticed when their high school basketball game of the local Grantsville Cougars versus the Clarkston Panthers became bulls verses goats. With the ball unable to bounce on the grass, they converted it into something more akin to rugby. The Grantsville Bulls flattened the much smaller Goats.
Apparently unwilling or too tired to flatten the entire gym with a localized hurricane, Dorothy tried to keep me distracted with focused whirls of air. I had to keep moving, weaving in and out of the crowd trying to spot the tass as it gathered, primarily in the pennant flags and noisemakers held by the crowd. The birds proved to be much quicker than us in grabbing those. The only major tass we managed to obtain was when Rudy charged the field, grabbed the ball and made for the goat's end zone. The engine of the clank screamed as he ran, the crowd exploding with moos of victory. As the transition faded and the game turned back into basketball, that ball alone proved to be worth three groats, but the Blackwings had snatched at least nine more from us.
Even at fifteen percent, this was beginning to look even less like the get rich quick scheme I'd imagined. At least Rudy was in high spirits with his play and chattered happily to us all on the way back to Jules' shop.
Once back, Richard and I tried to assist with the foci crafting, as the next transition wouldn't be until tomorrow, according to Jules and Jowls. The pair had once again entered a fugue state at their table, working on their "solution" to the Blackwings with a worrying fervor.
I learned more about technomagic than I really wanted to working on those devices. Compared to O'Meara, who always seemed to know where the right plane was for a certain magic she needed, Tom, Dick and Harry had no understanding of the realities that weren't near their anchor planes. They treated the universe as a giant bag with an infinite number of marbles in it. While they could reach in and feel around for the size, they had no idea the color until they pulled it out. They'd built a spell into the device and then instead of filling it with the planar energy they would thread a strand of pure tass back to the plane, which draws a continuous amount of energy to the device. All so the focus can be used and theoretically built without the presence of a familiar. The process was quite expensive. The two anti-wind shields cost most of the three groat to craft. At this they celebrated the efficiency and thanked me for my help.
"Now this should take care of that windbag." Tom lofted the two foci into the air, a belt for him and a collar for me. Their circuitry made a high-pitche
d hum as the devices activated.
"It will at least make them reveal their plan B," Jowls said. He and Jules were taking a break from their "solution."
Jules sipped a steaming paper cup of tea. "I've also invited a select few from the University to join us.”
Sandra's head popped up from where she was working on the clank. "What! We've barely gotten any tass from this venture! And you want to invite more folk?"
"Indeed!" the trio chimed in. "We're at a net negative so far with the silvers it cost us to get here!"
I caught Jules smiling at his familiar as Jowls puffed out his chest. "If we're to be a House, we need at least two Cabals, do we not?"
"Yes, but that shallowing can produce, what? Ten groat a month? That’s not enough for a Cabal, let alone two!"
Jules looked up. "Preliminary estimates are good! Twelve a month."
"We're technomagi! We need far more than a six groat a month or we're hamstrung! Not to mention the familiar is going to be skimming fifteen percent of that all by himself under our deal."
I failed at not looking smug. "I might renegotiate after I have the sum I need."
Sandra sputtered. "A hundred and fifty! We'd have to collect over a thousand groat to do that!"
Jowls grinned and faced Sandra. "And we'll need even more than that!"
All the other magi laughed nervously. Jules stirred his tea with a wooden stirrer. "No one is going to take us seriously as a House unless we have the resources of one. The Council requires taxes to support the Inquisition, and to survive we'll need at least one Archmagus to support us. That will be expensive."
Tom, Richard, Harry and Sandra stared at Jules with open mouths.
Jowls bounced and jiggled, his eyes all but exploding into sparkles. "You see, these transitions will keep coming! We're witnessing a historic collision of the planes, similar to the one that lead to creation of House Hermes a thousand years before! Don't you all see? The transitions will get bigger, yield even more tass than all of us can collect. These skirmishes with the Blackwings are just mere practice for the larger battle! Thomas, my expensive friend, will get the groat he wants in a matter of weeks! Not to mention a few more shallowings are bound to happen! House Technomagi might not be a little House scrapping by, but a major political force! It will be a new age! Our portraits will hang in the Great Council hallway! Wait and see!" Jowls stared off into the distance, no doubt imagining his face hanging in some hallway somewhere.
"Hey! Earth to Jowls!" Rudy barked. "The Blackwings are still getting most of the tass!"
"Well, stop losing to them, Snack!" Jowls put his nose in the air. "Speaking of which, you all should start moving. The next transition is in thirty minutes."
"A little more advanced warning would be appreciated, Jowls," I grumbled, rising from my position and stretching my back. The little circle workbench hadn't been made with large cats in mind.
"The predictions get more accurate the closer the transition gets," Jules said. "Get going! We'll text you the location once we have it precisely."
I note that they had more than an hour advance for the first shallowing, I thought to the trio.
So noted, They thought back.
Did Jules and Jowls suspect a leak among us? I wondered. We all piled into the van, Sandra driving. Jules and Jowls stayed behind to operate the "command center."
I'd curled up in the back for a quick nap as the van hurtled toward some unfortunate place when the van hit a pothole that damn near tossed me up to the roof. Instinct carried me back down, and I landed with an angry hiss, ears and eyes scanning for an attacker. I caught a dim blue flutter out of the corner of my eye.
"Sorry!" Sandra called back. Richard had scrabbled away from my scary teeth.
Ignoring them, I turned and faced the back of the van and concentrated. There, the steady blue pulse of a magus' aura. Distant enough that I'd miss it if I hadn't been actively looking.
"Thomas?" Richard asked. "You alright?"
"I'm fine, but we're being followed." I attempted to figure out which Blackwing it was. Then another joined it, this one definitely Dorothy, her aura bright from channeling. "Well, the good news is I don't think the Blackwings know how to predict the Transitions. They're tracking the van,"
"That's somewhat logical," Richard conceded after a few moments.
"That makes ditching them super simple!" Rudy added. "Quick, somebody make an invisibility ward. Scenting us won't work too well when they're flying."
The van’s engine revved as Sandra accelerated. "Hey! Stop!" I cried. "Don't tip them off we spotted them."
"We're almost there. We gotta do something," Sandra said.
"I got some bottle rockets!" Rudy thumped the chest of the clank with his foot. "Even got a few... special ones."
I didn't know what Rudy meant by special, but I knew him well enough to know that I probably didn't want to know. I peered out the front of the van and spotted a bridge in the distance. "Sandra, keep it steady. Rudy and I will bail out and head for the transition," I said. "Richard, can we use the wind inhibitors to cushion the... sudden deceleration?"
"Not on that." Richard jerked his thumb at the contraption, which probably weighed half a ton. "I'll go."
"They'll notice you bailed eventually," Rudy said.
"All we need is a good head start. Dorothy can't blast in an elementary school," Richard said.
My jaw tried to drop out its sockets. "The transition is at Grantsville Elementary! We can't!"
Sandra snorted. "Jules thought you might balk. But either we do it or the Blackwings will. The transition will happen if we're there or not. It’s not something we can stop and collecting tass won't change anything."
She was right, of course, but it left a bad scent in my nose. I thought of the squiggling death wish in O'Meara's head. Maybe I couldn't do anything for the town, but I could save her at least. And Noise, a voice in my head reminded me.
They're munds, Thomas, Richard thought at me. They'll carry on as they always do.
"They're people, Richard," I nearly hissed back. "And I don't work with magi who view it otherwise."
"I know, I know. And we try not to hurt them, but we can't save them all either. If magic happens to them, it happens."
That mollified me a bit, but it didn't ease the fur on my neck back down either. Rudy's eyes whipped between Richard and I. "Hey, hey, you two, no fighting on the job!"
Richard nodded. "Shall we get ready to worry about things we can do, Thomas? Like hurling ourselves out of a moving van?"
***
Technomagic foci are fragile things, and I heard something pop when I hit the asphalt with four feet. My vision flashed pure black. Then I stood on the side of the road under a bridge. By my side stood Richard, a nimbus of yellow and black energy flowing about his aura. All I had around me was a puff of gray smoke and the scent of burnt resistors.
"Damn it," Richard cursed.
We told you it’s not designed for that! Tom and Harry thought distantly, muffled through Richard.
Worked well enough. I'm not a road pancake! Let get this over with. It's a five-minute run to the school. A moment of concentration and I saw Dorothy and Rinoa's auras in the distance. The trick had worked for now, but with Dorothy the bird forms of the Blackwings could probably move at speeds approaching warp. I made for the school at a lope. Richard followed at a labored jog, still arguing with his fellows over the probabilities if the buffering spell could be repaired or if they'd have to rebuild it entirely.
Grantsville Elementary was a sprawling complex of flat-roofed, interconnected brick buildings with lots of windows. The screams and laughter of recess echoed over the walls. Three flags flew at half-mast in the center of a roundabout in front of the school. A lone bus was pulling out from the driveway, which burst with the chatter of even younger kids. A midday preschool or kindergarten perhaps?
A few stragglers sat under the supervision of a tired looking teacher or aid with a blotchy discoloration to her fac
e. I wondered how old that echo was. Had she been at the basketball game yesterday? Or perhaps the Stockyard with Noise and I?
I didn't have much time to ponder it, as one of her charges pointed a pudgy finger at me and screamed, "KITTY!"
I froze, already imagining a tranquilizer dart materializing in my buttock. The girl's companion, another girl with curls so tight they could probably trap insects, turned to her, looking affronted. "DOGGY!"
"KITTY!" the first girl insisted.
"Sign say Dog!"
I just stood still as the teacher watched me with wary eyes. These kids were right at the border of when the Veil took hold, but a strange two-hundred-pound dog showing up in front of an elementary school would set adults on edge, service dog harness or no. The woman swallowed something down and smiled nervously. "Hi boy! Good doggy. Stay right there please."
I attempted to wag my tail but slow lash is the only speed I managed.
"Sorry!" Richard called from behind me, puffing to catch up. A haze of purple had begun to rise in the school behind us by the time he clomped up beside me, the scent of his human sweat rolling off him like a thick cloud. "Sorry. Thomas here got ahead of me."
The woman regarded him with a serious frown. "Please keep him leashed at all times on the school grounds, sir."
"Of course." Hey, Thomas, do you have a leash?
Left pocket.
Richard withdrew the leash I kept there and clipped it to the harness, a cheap thing, easy for me to break should the need arise. I only used it when Noise and I went shopping; usually for clothes for her or meaty treats for us both.
Richard said, "Sorry, we're late for a show and tell. Come Thomas."
The woman frowned but didn't stop us from walking through the front door of the school. I already smelled a change in the air, thicker and dense with moisture. I prayed things didn't start melting as the purple glare of the place intensified. We walked down the hallways with purpose, observing the tiniest of details, from the water fountains to the lockers, all of which were lower than my head level and led to the general feeling that I'd entered the valley of the midgets.
Marking Territory (Freelance Familiars Book 2) Page 13