by Scott Baron
“Uh-huh,” he said dismissively. “Our search turned up nothing. Each time.”
“That doesn’t mean there was nothing there. Regardless, I need you to extend this one’s collar boundaries. The bundabist all got out, and he’s going to help with their recapture.”
“You know only Dinuk and the visla are allowed to alter the boundary spells on new slaves’ collars.”
There it is again. Slave. I guess it’s only natural that someone still says it.
“Look, Dinuk and the visla aren’t here, and as Dinuk’s second-in-command, you are tasked with the same head of security responsibilities as he is, correct?”
“Yes, but––”
“And if someone needs collar restrictions changed due to a security issue, like, say, a half dozen of the visla’s new bundabist tearing up the estate, that job now falls to you, am I right?”
“Well…” He hesitated. “It should, but I––”
“But you what? Won’t help catch his new pets before they do any further damage?”
Man, she’s tough as nails, Charlie admired. Glad she’s not pissed at me.
Azkan shifted uncomfortably on his feet, which was an odd sight for an otherwise intimidating and well-armed man. “The thing is, I actually can’t change the collar settings,” he said, his fingers twirling the heavy band on his wrist. “I mean, my konus is powered enough, but I don’t know the spell.”
“Well, that’s disappointing,” she replied. “Come on, Charlie. We’ll have to put you to work on the inside perimeter, somehow.”
“Perhaps I can help,” a voice said, as the nearest door opened.
Malalia, resplendent in her sheerest, iridescent dress, flowed out to join the conversation. “If it is a simple modification to my father’s spell, I’d be more than happy to help. For you, Charlie.”
She placed her hands on the collar, her fingers lingering on his neck, then turned slowly to Leila. “Now, how far out did you need him to go?” she asked, her eyes coolly observing the roughly clothed animalist.
“Just past the first couple of walls. I don’t think they’ve gone much farther than that.”
“I can do that, of course,” Malalia said, turning her gaze back to Charlie. “Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing.”
The collar began to glow as she chanted a series of incantations, so softly and under her breath that Charlie couldn’t quite make them out. He noted she was not wearing a konus.
She must have a lot of her father’s power to cast that effortlessly.
A moment later the band stopped glowing and she slid her hands from the collar, sliding her fingers along his throat as she did. “There, all done. That should give you range you need.”
“Thank you,” Charlie murmured.
“It was my pleasure,” she said, eyes sparkling.
Leila’s didn’t sparkle as she rolled them. “Come on. We have work to do.”
Chapter Fifteen
“How did they escape?” Charlie asked as he inspected the open enclosure gate. It didn’t appear to have been smashed or forced from the inside, but then, with magical locking systems, he really didn’t know what had caused the pen to open.
“It looks as if someone left the gate ajar,” Leila said.
“You don’t sound so convinced.”
“I shouldn’t be. I’m the one who secured it. Even if I’d only used my usual locking spell, this should never happen. But since the bundabist are a bit rambunctious, especially in a new environment, I took the precaution of doubling up and adding a secondary, redundant spell, just in case.”
“So they broke both of them? That seems pretty unlikely.”
“It is. And no, they didn’t break out. The spell never failed. It was removed. But don’t mention a word of that. The visla will have a fit if he learns someone was tampering with magic on his grounds.”
“But everyone seems to cast to one degree or another.”
“Yes, but with carefully limited konuses. And each are restricted beyond just power levels, but also tied to their specific duties. It’s fine for getting work done around the estate, but those konuses simply couldn’t have done this.”
“So who did?”
“That’s the question of the hour. Something’s not right. But first things first, we need to get you caught up with the others to join the hunt. Bundabist aren’t terribly dangerous, at least not intentionally, but they have been known to trample people on occasion when they get worked up.”
“While we’re on the subject of bundabist, what exactly are they?”
“Oh, right. There’s a baby in one of the side pens. It was a bit undersized when it was born, so I’ve been feeding the little one by hand and keeping it safe from the others until it’s big enough to not be injured by them.”
He peered into a smaller side enclosure.
“That’s a little one?” he said.
The young bundabist easily topped thirty kilos and looked like a cross between a large hyena and a pangolin, with plates of armor mixing with its fur across its back all the way to its belly.
“Who’s a good girl?” Leila cooed, reaching into the enclosure and scratching the sweet spot behind its ears. The bundabist let out a rumbling purr, almost like a feline, though its build was definitely more canine in nature.
“Uh, exactly how big do these get?”
“I’d say about four times this size.”
“And you say they sometimes hurt people.”
“Only because they’re overly excitable. There’s not a mean bone in their bodies, though they do look big and scary. Don’t you? Don’t you look scary?” she said to the blissed-out animal, whose rear leg was now twitching as she scratched lower down on its back. “Okay, we need to meet up with the others. They headed out a half hour ago, so we lost a little time while getting Azkan to adjust your collar.”
“Well, Malalia was the one who did it, technically––”
She flashed him a cool look. “Yes, Daddy’s little princess to the rescue.”
“That’s not what I mean. Just that she helped too.”
“She’s not as sweet and kind as she pretends, Charlie. You’d do well to remember that.”
Charlie sensed more than a tiny bit of bad blood between the women. Growing up as the servant to someone your own age must have been hard, he realized. And now, as adults, that resentment carried over, it seemed.
They ran through the fields toward the low stone wall encircling the area. Charlie felt himself tense up slightly as they vaulted it without slowing down, letting out a little sigh of relief when he was left unscathed. The collar, it seemed, was indeed allowed greater range. A blur at the corner of his eye appeared to be a pale shape running the other direction, toward the estate.
These things are everywhere, he thought with a smile. At least we’re getting a good workout in.
Leila ran fast and easy, the product of a lifetime spent chasing animals and working the land with her father. Charlie had always been fit, but the two-plus years of gladiatorial training had improved upon it, and he kept pace effortlessly. It was something Leila was not used to, so she upped the speed.
Charlie kept up, and soon they reached another stone wall, perhaps a mile past the first one. A fierce burning sensation drove Charlie back as he got closer, forcing him to his knees as he quickly staggered away from the invisible barrier.
Leila vaulted the wall, then looked back, skidding to a halt when she realized what had happened.
“That bitch,” she growled as she jogged back to him. “She said she was expanding the range, but she only extended it to the next ring. Dammit.” Leila looked around. There was no sign of the others yet, but she saw wisps of dust in the distance. “Okay, listen. I think I see them over that hill.”
“I see the dust.”
“Good eyes.”
“Thanks. But I can’t cross the wall, so what would you have me do?”
“Stay on this side, and take this.” She handed him a length of braided cord from aroun
d her waist. “If you come across one, or if we manage to drive the others back over the wall, approach from the front so it can see you, then, when you can, scratch behind its ears. That should make it calm enough to slip this over its head.”
“Great, so I catch the thing. Then what? Drag it back to the pen?”
“Well, I wouldn’t recommend dragging it, exactly. They love to run, so try making it a game, leading it back.”
“Sounds like the dog I had when I was a kid.”
“What’s a dog?”
“A four-legged animal, about the size of the young bundabist back there. They’re loyal, and fun, and generally good-natured, but they can get out of hand at times.”
“That rather describes the bundabist.”
“Minus the armored hide,” he said with a chuckle. “We call them ‘Man’s best friend’ back home.”
“And where is home, anyway? I’ve heard of races with your coloring, but you lack the other traits. Your ears do not point, and you lack ridges on your shoulders.”
“I’m human. From Earth. It’s a planet from another galaxy.”
“Another galaxy? Stop it, we all know that’s impossible.”
“You know, I’ve been saying the same thing, myself,” he said.
Cries of excitement and chase wafted across the hills.
“They’ve found one. I must go. I’ll come back to check on you. Here, take this skree. Call me if you find one, and I’ll come help you.”
Charlie accepted the device and watched her vault the wall and rapidly shrink in the distance. “But how do I use this?” he said quietly, studying the small communications unit. “One button. I guess it magically knows whom you want to call,” he figured. “Seems on par for this place.”
He slid the skree into his pocket and took off at a jog, determined to scout the mile-wide ring he was now allowed access to. With luck, Leila would return to one less bundabist to capture.
Twenty minutes later, Charlie had covered a lot of ground, yet there had been no sign of the roving animals.
Did any of them stay between the walls, here? he wondered as he scanned the rolling hills.
Something in the near distance caught his eye. A path leading between two hills into a small glen. Resuming his jog, he redirected that way, heading onto the shady trail.
This looks familiar, he realized as the trail twisted and turned, opening up on a small clearing with a squat building. From this angle, he could barely see the inner wall just past the hill.
It was the same building he had traced the heavy metal poisoning to while helping Hertzall. The revelation both thrilled and worried him, but neither slowed his stride as he crept up to the building.
Outside, there did not seem to be any conveyances or ships that he could see, though the large doors could easily accommodate one if need be. Charlie quietly approached an open window, the opening possessing no glass, likely covered by a spell, as had been the case on Captain Tür’s ship.
Sure enough, he felt resistance when he put his hand near it, but not the violent sensation in his collar as had been his previous experience. Satisfied he wouldn’t burn his neck by near proximity, he leaned closer and peered through the opening.
Crates upon crates were stacked, though he couldn’t tell what sort of material they were made of. They all seemed to glow slightly, and there were no markings on the outsides. The few open ones, however, were being loaded by a species he had not seen before.
Shorter than most, they were heavily muscled, the definition enhanced by the work-induced sheen of sweat they sported. Their skin was a deep green with black patches, and they possessed wiry hair running from the tops of their heads down their backs and into their tunics, almost like a full-body mohawk.
Fucking hideous. But what are they up to?
A small smelting apparatus was pouring liquid metal of some variety into glowing molds, the spell containing the heat also cooling them to their final form in under a minute.
“Slaaps,” Charlie exhaled when they opened the mold and dumped a half dozen of the magical weapons onto the finishing bench.
He looked at the crates. Piled high, each was easily able to hold dozens, if not more. And in another crate, he saw finished konuses being slid into holding racks, the crates then sealed with a spell, the seams disappearing under a magic lock and key.
The slag left over from the process was trickling into a shaft in the center of the facility. A waste well that had apparently leaked into the groundwater. This was what was poisoning the trees, but Charlie thought he had stumbled onto something far worse than that.
Survival instinct, do your thing. Which way? I need to boogie the hell out of here before I’m seen.
Back the way he came was an option, but he thought he heard the faint sound of approaching steps.
Okay. The other way, then.
He took off at a run, rounding the small hill and shifting to an angle that put him out of the line of sight of the factory building. The low wall was nearing, and he increased his pace. A quick vault and maybe five-minute run and he’d be back at the stables. He needed to talk to someone. Ara, being old enough to have seen a lot in her time, might have some insight.
Charlie jumped high, clearing the wall at full speed.
A powerful shock threw him to the ground, and he lay there, unconscious, for a long, long time.
Chapter Sixteen
It was dark outside when Charlie woke in his own bed. Someone had carried him back to the estate and laid him down in his room, but he had absolutely no recollection of it.
He touched his neck, but there were no tell-tale aches from the collar, yet his head was still swimming. Something had stunned him as he cleared the wall. What, was the question.
He rose to his feet, swaying slightly, still unsteady, then made his way to the door. The flights of stairs down to the kitchen felt longer than usual, but the more he moved his body, the more he felt himself recovering his strength.
“Charlie, I didn’t know you were back,” Magda said as she saw him coming down the hallway. “Weren’t you out with Leila and the others? I didn’t think they were done yet.”
“I don’t know, actually. I was wanting to check something with Malalia. You know where she is?”
“Denna Maktan is in her chambers, last I saw. But it would do you well to stay clear of her. Her father can be very protective of his daughter.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, making his way down the long corridor toward the other wing in the building.
A heated exchange could be heard taking place as he neared Malalia’s rooms. It sounded like Visla Maktan and his daughter were having words. Another voice chimed in periodically.
Ah, Dinuk is back with Visla Maktan.
Charlie was going to approach quietly to eavesdrop and maybe learn what the fuss was about, but his unsteady feet betrayed him, knocking against a low table.
Shit.
He quickened his pace and played it off as best he could. “Visla Maktan, so glad to see you’ve returned.”
“Go to bed. We’ll continue this later,” he said to Malalia, who flashed an apologetic look to Charlie as she closed her door.
“I hope your trip was successful,” Charlie continued.
“It was, thank you. But I find myself perturbed by reports of strange goings-on in my absence.”
Shit. He knows.
“Dinuk’s men have informed him that some form of cursed magic was used on my grounds, and my daughter played some part in it. I assure you, Charlie, while I am a benevolent owner, I am still that. Your owner. And using this ‘tech-magic’ is an abomination and shall not be allowed on these grounds. Do you understand?”
“Yes, but it’s not magic. It’s just technology. Scientific instrumentation––”
“Silence!” Maktan bellowed, a swell of angry magical pressure emanating from his body, shifting the air in the room. “You have corrupted my daughter by involving her with your unnatural works. I’ve exami
ned your implements and find them to be antithetical to magical laws.”
“Like I said, it’s not––”
“I can feel no power in them, yet they perform powerful acts. This is abhorrent to my sensibilities and shall never happen here again.”
“But––”
“Stand still and be silent! San ovusk!” Visla Maktan hissed, negating his translation spell.
“What do you think, Dinuk? Should I punish him further for show?”
The head of security cast an assessing eye on Charlie. “No. Not yet, at least. While it might make an impression now, I think this one is smarter than he lets on. Violence could backfire and make him redouble his efforts. Keeping him in the dark is key to your plans. He trusts you, and it is important to maintain that trust.”
“Hmm, I fear you are correct in that assessment, and we need him working for us, not against us.”
I can still understand them, Charlie marveled. The incantation had always canceled his translation spell, since the very first time he’d heard it, yet something was different. Of course, he realized. The dragon. Ara was right. It’s her blood. And since our bonding, something new has happened to me.
It turned out she was right about something else as well. The truth about their connection was something he needed to protect at all costs.
It seemed that not only had her blood mixed with his, allowing them to communicate, but more than that, Zomoki were powerful creatures, and the intermingling had gifted him her power of understanding. Even without the visla’s spell in place, he wasn’t missing a word.
“And what of the Zomoki?” Maktan asked. “Has the groundskeeper’s daughter tamed it sufficiently to study?”
“As I understand it, Visla, the Zomoki is well-restrained with its new collar and will be forced to bend to your will, when you wish it.”
“Excellent. You saw what it was capable of at the tournament. In that one instant, it actually cast through the restraining field.”
“I know, Visla. I saw. While they are all magic-bearing creatures to some degree, none have shown any significant abilities for longer than I can remember.”