Tales from the Oriceran Universe: Fans Write For The Fans: Volume 1 (Oriceran Fans Write For the Fans)

by Michael Anderle

  Felicia flew off as the drones fired up and started on their track.

  Chapter Three

  White Sands

  The first indication was another round of spikes heading for the northern drone, but they missed. Sedrec had told the drone to pull back. Ramon had Felicia fly overwatch as everyone piled into the ATVs. The few miles were covered quickly, but to Ramon’s disgust, not quite fast enough.

  Felicia didn’t have to travel line of sight...and there had been a fat basilisk lounging under a mesquite. Gah! Her ferret form didn’t have the usual scent glands, but post-basilisk, she’d smell worse than a wet bear who’d pissed off a herd of skunks.

  Soon after that, though, she had “eyes” back on the...thing. Definitely chimeric, totally ugly. Initial reports were accurate enough, but completely inadequate. The left head was canid...if you counted hell hounds as dog-like. Black on black with glowing red eyes. The right head and neck resembled a monitor lizard’s. And the wings, spiked back, and tail were pure manticore. Ramon used the picture passed to him by Felicia to create an image of the beast for Marben to examine. The Wood Elf was not amused.

  “Whatever pea-brained pus-ball dreamed that up? Of course, he lost control! None of those are readily controllable, much less after cramming everything together. I’m amazed it lived. I want to flay his skin off and stake him to a fire ant mound.

  “But if he got the combination to be functional, everything probably works, so closing invites the hell hound’s fire breath. And figure the lizzy’s bite is effectively, if not actually, poison. Hell, figure the spikes are too. Good news is the rifles should hurt it, and our arrows will definitely cause it grief.”

  Sedrec laid out the tactical plan. “Two groups. Ramon, you’ve got the humans. Aim for two hundred yards or so southwest. We’ll aim for two hundred to the southeast. I’d love to fire together, but that’s probably not going to work. Sorry, guys, but we’re quieter than you are, and this...chimericore...hears too well, if it heard the drones. I fear it will focus on you, but that shouldn’t be a problem. If it opens up on you, take any safe shots you can— especially you, Eric. Head shots are your best bet, but don’t be foolish. If it’s focused on you, we should have easy shots.”

  Dan was worried. “Not a problem? Did you see how fast those spikes flew?”

  “Not a problem because Sed and I will have shield spells up. Marben and Treasa have their own defenses...maybe layered shielding? Dunno; they’ll work that out. For us, Felicia is a guardian spirit. She augments anything defensive. So, yeah, I’m not too worried.”

  It went without a hitch. The drones swung around and flew in from the north. Everyone wanted this recorded. Their mild buzz alerted the chimericore, but when it heard the crackle from the approaching humans, it wasn’t sure where to focus. First blood went to Eric, but his shot only drilled the reptilian neck. The canid head stared balefully as the creature discharged a massive volley of spines…much too slowly. The shield was firmly in place, and the spines—six inches of hard, bone-like material as pointed as any crossbow quarrel—simply exploded into powder.

  “And...now!” Ramon turned the shield into a web, and both rifles let loose with bursts. The canid head lost an eye. The other rounds inflicted painful but minor wounds. Again, the creature’s response was both slow and telegraphed. Another volley of spines arrived, this time accompanied by an ugly black and green wad of...something spit by the lizard’s head. Ramon channeled through his sword to harden and expand the shield. Getting splashed by that stuff couldn’t be healthy.

  The sizzling sounds from the plants that did get splashed confirmed that.

  From the east, Oriceran arrows slammed into the creature’s body, inflicting further pain and confusion.

  “One more time...three, two, one, now!” Ramon called for another burst. This cost the canid head part of its jaw...and its temper. Manticore seemed to be the dominant component, and manticores were aggressive. It took to the air, but that could best be described as a blunder. Manticores are terrible fliers, and now it had no cover whatsoever. Arrows and a small fireball smashed into it, wreaking further havoc. Its effort to return fire was wild as it thrashed.

  Then everyone opened up. Sedrec dropped his shield to secondary and Felicia took over maintenance on Ramon’s. The arrows and bullets slammed home first, and a pair of white-hot fire bolts admirably completed the job.

  When the smoking, stinking carcass hit the ground, a great cheer, like the home crowd celebrating a walk-off home run, erupted. Sedrec groaned inwardly; Felicia was developing a sense of humor much too close to Ramon’s.

  Chapter Four

  Las Cruces

  The portal opened up at the church where they’d left the car. To offload the combat gear into the trunk, Sedrec took the keys as Ramon stared down his ferret.

  “Told you not to. No, you don’t get a ride back to the house, Felicia. You’re exiled to the backyard tonight!” Even Sedrec could sense her mood...totally worth it. Not like Ramon was angry, not really, but still…

  “Come on, let’s grab a shower. We’ll hit up Zeffiro, then take the night off.”

  “Hmm. Are you trying to use wood-fired pizza to take advantage of me?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Ramon groaned. “That line means you owe me a back rub as well!”

  “That was going to be the opening act, yes.”

  They were driving up to their house now. “Oh...well, then. Hey, is that Clouseau barking?”

  “No other dog in the area is a bass, but it sounds playful.”

  “Oh...ok, yeah it is. Felicia just showed me. It’s Spock.”

  Giving a troll unsupervised access to Netflix Classics was a terrible idea. In this case, the draw was the original Star Trek tv shows. As the guys came into the yard through the side gate, they saw the aftermath: one troll, dressed in a perfect blue shirt with an embossed Enterprise logo and black pants. The explosive popularity of trolls had made troll-size clothing a booming business. Sure enough, he was hopping round the yard, chased by a loping and ungainly fifty-pound basset hound who could never quite decide if this was a small child or a very strange-looking rabbit. Either worked quite well for Clouseau.

  Fortunately for Spock, Clouseau’s attention shifted as the gate opened and he loped over to his people. That freed Spock to give the classic Vulcan hand sign. “Live long and prosper, boytoys!”

  Sedrec was swamped with canine affection, leaving Ramon. “What brings you over here?”

  “Nada. Linda’s got plans. Too noisy! I figure here’s better. Food?” Linda Alvarez tutored at the after-school program Ramon and his family had set up to help the poorer kids have a safe, healthy place to go. Her brother Cesar, Ramon’s best friend as a kid, ran the place.

  “Yeah, yeah. We’re going to Zeffiro, and you can come.”

  “Pizza!”

  The “butterfly effect” is when a tiny event triggers a subsequent chain of events.

  The next few days were occupied by routine matters...after-action paperwork so they could collect a fee (or, more likely with the Feds, a tax credit), preparing a few potions (another contract), a trip to the vet for Clouseau. They hadn’t been able to head over to the Las Cruces Youth Rec Center, their community support effort, until now. It was warming up; they loaded Clouseau and a large jug of water to cool him down with into the car.

  On arrival, they saw and heard a small swarm of younger kids involved in some tag-like game, clearly led by Spock. Sedrec smiled; he was constantly amazed by how the trolls on Earth connected with human children. They all adored him. It wasn’t just the look, although certainly that was a factor. No, they knew his other side and didn’t fear it. And he could switch immediately to authority figure—he stopped the game momentarily to order one smiling young girl to sit down for a bit and drink some water.

  The interruption was enough so all the kids saw the two men, and they waved hello enthusiastically as Clouseau bounded over to them. Off to the side, Ramon caught a
nother girl walking in...Juanita Diaz, who was ten years old. He knew her because she had a magical gift that had surfaced quite recently.

  “Hi, Juanita!” several voices chorused. “What took you so long? We thought you were coming with us from school.”

  FLAP.

  “Huh? I did! What are you talking about? What time is it?”

  That caught the men’s attention, and Spock’s. He moved to Juanita, sniffing and peering intently.

  FLAP.

  A low growl escaped. “Something is wrong here. Very wrong.” He turned to the other kids. “Inside, please. Privacy.”

  Juanita was suddenly very scared. Sedrec pulled out his phone to call Juanita’s parents as Ramon knelt. “It’s ok, mi linda. We’ll find out what’s wrong, and I promise, we’re gonna try to fix it.”

  Mr. Diaz was confused, afraid, and angry.

  “So you’re saying someone...or something...attacked my daughter to take her magic between school and here?”

  “It looks that way. Trolls are particularly sensitive to magic, and Spock’s never going to lie about anything that threatens any of the kids here. He says it feels like a tear in her magic; for what or how it happened, I don’t know. It wasn’t stolen altogether, fortunately. If it had been, she might not have gotten it back. It’s kind of like a seedling right now; any damage may kill it.

  “And no, neither of us has any idea how it could have been done or who did it, but I promise we are going to find out.”

  “And meantime?” He wasn’t angry at Ramon; that was fear.

  “It’s a short walk for most of them, but it still happened. We’ll talk to them, and I think I know some boys who will be willing to be escorts. Shouldn’t take more than a day or two.” He pulled a card from his wallet and wrote a few things on it. “I want you to take Juanita to Memorial and see this doctor. Have them do a complete physical; blood tests too. I’ll call to set it up. Don’t worry about the cost. It’s on me. It’s probably not needed, but better safe than sorry.”

  He knelt by the still-scared little girl. “Do me a favor, please. Don’t do any magic at all, ok? I know it’s fun, but... Just until we figure this out? Please?”

  Meanwhile, Sedrec had been talking to Linda, Cesar, the other kids, and the doctor at Memorial who had some experience with magic. He waited until the Diaz family had left.

  “Two other potential attacks. No one thought much of it. Spock can’t tell; any marks are probably healed or fading with time.”

  “Any ideas on who or how?”

  “Other than the obvious—that it was preparatory, not actual—no. That strongly says dark magic, but I can’t take it further.”

  “Yeah, so I think we need to call in experts. Oh, and I promised we’d get escorts for the kids.”

  “Tuco’s good. He’ll tell his boys to keep the weapons hidden so the parents won’t freak.”

  Chapter Five

  School of Necessary Magic, Virginia

  After breakfast the next morning, Sedrec opened a portal that deposited them at one of the designated arrival points near the School of Necessary Magic. As graduates and occasional guest speakers, the privacy wards recognized and ignored them. The Virginia morning saw few students out on the grounds; most were in class. Felicia, not surprisingly, immediately shifted and flitted off to gossip with the resident spirit and fairy populace. Sedrec’s attention was drawn to one small cluster of girls talking animatedly some ways off.

  “Well, that’s not something you see every day.” He pointed to the girls.

  “Hmm? Oh... Ohh! A Drow?”

  “Indeed. High lineage, too, I believe, judging by how the hair color is shifting.”

  “Wasn’t there something on the grapevine about a bounty hunter and a Drow...out in LA, I think?”

  “I believe so. Curious, in any case.”

  They walked into the main house and headed for the library. As they looked around the apparently empty room, a gnome busy in the stacks glanced over to see who was intruding so early in the day. Seeing the source, the red poppy on the brim of his bowler hat started blowing raspberries. Loudly.

  “You two! You’re not students anymore! I finally start sleeping soundly again without worrying about what you’ll do next, and now? Shoo! Shoo!” Leo Decker was not a happy gnome, but that was nothing new.

  “Aw, c’mon, Librarian Decker, we weren’t that bad, were we?” Ramon’s grin was impish.

  “And we come bearing gifts.” Sedrec held out a small bottle of Elvish Sunmead, an Oriceran cordial they knew the gnome enjoyed. “The matter that brings us here is rather less charming than Sunmead, though.”

  “Yeah, just a bit. There’s something going on that’s...not good, and we’re not sure what it is. We’re hoping you might know something.

  “Hmph! Well. We’ll see. Tell me what it is—and if you’re wasting my time, you’ll regret it!”

  “Thanks, Librarian Decker! But not here. Too public.”

  The poppy stopped blowing raspberries at that. The librarian led them into a side room, casting an obscuration ward to block scrying.

  Ramon recounted the information they had.

  “And that’s all we know right now. Any ideas?”

  “Nasty business. Nasty. Not a creature. Creature would feed and the child would be dead, not this. No. Leeching magic, of a sort. Drow did that kind of thing. Atlanteans, too. For them, it was a form of torture. I’ve heard rumors that dark wizards sometimes did it to try to grow more powerful.

  “This...I think it’s close to that. Old magic. Blood magic. Setting up a link to draw off the child’s magic. Early now, and small, so it’s easy to hide, and no one will know. A child won’t have a proper sense of its own power. And as the child grows, I suspect, the amount siphoned increases.”

  “So the mage is either using this to augment her own power or treating the kids like artifacts and recharging themselves from them. Something along those lines. Can we stop it, or block it somehow?” Ramon’s hands, fidgeting with the scabbarded sword in his lap, betrayed his nerves and anger.

  “Maybe, given time to study the effect.”

  “Time we cannot count on having before he or she retaliates.” Sedrec’s voice was icy.

  “No. The hook is in place; assume the thief can choose to rip it out, if not use it to tap all the child’s power at once. And, can the thief do this to one child at a time, or to all of them at once?

  “We don’t want to find out.”

  The gnome nodded as he left the room.

  “I don’t see many options. Say we get the jump on them and knock them out. We still don’t know that we can prevent them from snapping the taps given a free moment.” Ramon’s stomach churned.

  “There’s probably no bounty here. We won’t have justification to act. We try to find proof that will hold before acting, but if we can’t...”

  “I’m not gonna let this escapee from the Malebolges kill my kids, Sed. No matter the cost.”

  Chapter Six

  Las Cruces, New Mexico

  Nothing. Zilch. A big fat goose egg. That was the result of a week’s worth of searching for clues about the predator in their town.

  After returning from Virginia, they’d “hired” some of the boys who were part of Tuco Ruiz’ crew. As magic had returned, diversion of law enforcement resources had left much of the rural Southwest open to increased gang activity. Many were satellites or channels for gangs in the larger cities like Phoenix, Vegas, and Los Angeles. Others had less savory connections, the Nuevo Gulf Cartel and the Brujos Rojos seeking to spread their influence. Tuco was a local, valley born and bred. He had ties, and ties meant commitments. Pulling on those, along with a judicious application of under-the-table cash for the boys, and the kids had discreet escorts when school let out.

  That didn’t address the issue of finding the dark mage or whatever it was. The bounty boards showed nothing, which wasn’t surprising since the perp was apparently staying below the radar quite successfully. There wer
e a few dark mages in the area, but none near the Holy Family/Pioneer Park area. An Atlantean or Drow was possible but unlikely, at least in person. One could never rule out artifacts, and Atlantean devices fit the evidence on both the power and personality fronts.

  Since they were drawing blanks anyway, Ramon decided to call a few connections in the tomb raiding business. It was a long shot, but…

  “You want what again?”

  All the agency reps followed the same script.

  “Look, I know it’s vague. I’m just checking on the possibility that someone found an unexpected artifact during a mission. One that wasn’t turned in; whoever found it, kept it. Then they bugged out to keep the secret.”

  “Okay, so…”

  “So maybe it was a raid gone bad, even if the target was recovered. Easier to keep a secret if you’re the only witness or at least the only one in the area. It’s possible the artifact caused a personality shift, so were there any sudden discipline problems soon after a raid? Or someone who bailed suddenly?”

  “I can’t discuss HR stuff. That’s off the table. And you’re probably still talking quite a few people.”

  “I’ll take whatever leads you can give me. Oh, and you can probably limit things to people with at least minor magical abilities. What we’re seeing suggests the artifact may augment magical power.”

  “That should help, but I can’t promise anything.”

  And those were the good conversations.

  The next few days were frustrating. The guys split their time between watching over the kids, checking (and rejecting) the infrequent responses from the tomb raiders, and casually walking through the nearby streets. They didn’t figure it’d do any good, but it was better than nothing. Besides, Clouseau loved going for walks.