“You’re also not moving,” he responded in worry.
“I’m leading you into a false sense of security.” I forced my body up and that hurt, more than it should have, my shoulder giving an unhappy twinge. It was fine, I could walk that off. “So, Chi, I’m just throwing it out there, but you know the part where you have to land?”
“Yeah?” He started to grin, the sarding dastard.
“That’s important,” I informed him with a straight face. “Maybe think about that before you leap.”
“You didn’t think about it until the ground reached up and slapped you.” He meant to sound accusing, I’m sure, but was too busy laughing at my stupidity to get the right nuance in there.
“Nooo, I just was focusing on other things first, and will you shut up and go already?”
Still laughing like the loon he was, Chi took off running for the building, scaling it like the nimble monkey I would never accuse him of being. Because he would shoot me. He scaled it with the same speed as I had, using one hand for the last part because he was a show-off, the other reaching for his bow hanging at his back. As soon as his feet touched the roof, he snagged four arrows from his quiver, then leapt free.
All four arrows landed with perfect precision, of course, because this was Chi, after all. Still, I could tell from his face the precise moment he realized he was descending a mite faster than he planned for. Unlike me, he had a quiver at his back, which interfered with the natural roll. He grunted hard as he hit the ground, the quiver at the small of his back making him jerk.
When he came to a stop, flat on his face, I grinned from ear to ear. Ah, revenge. Who cared if it was cold, I liked mine served hot as well. “How you doing there, champ?”
He grunted at me, spat out blades of dead grass, and levered himself up on his elbows enough to glare at the ground. “I don’t think it likes me.”
“Told you to plan better for the landing,” I sing-songed cheerfully.
“Yeah, yeah, rub it in.”
I lifted a hand in a rubbing motion. “Squeak, squeak.”
Chi picked up a clod of dirt near his head and chucked it at me. Because he’s a master marksman, it nearly hit, but I dodged, still grinning. “Want to go again?”
“Obviously we need to,” he responded, more thoughtful than frustrated. Getting to his feet, he stared upwards at the poles, absently shaking off grass as he moved. “I didn’t quite hit what I was aiming for. Harder to do that when you don’t have a stable force to brace with.”
“Don’t I know it.” I was frankly amazed we both hit all the targets, honestly. Doing this sort of thing airborne was no joke. “But it is pretty good practice. I mean, we might have to do something like this in the future.”
Grunting, he agreed seriously, “Absolutely. Let’s retrieve arrows and daggers and go again.”
We did so, hopping up to grab them, as it was just tall enough to be out of comfortable reach. Then we ran it again. I landed better the second time than I had the first, mostly because I understood that the ground really wasn’t in a friendly state of mind, and it would smack me for being an idiot. My shoulder still gave faint twinges when I rolled to a stop, but it was fine. Mostly fine. I’d ice it later.
Chi’s second landing went better too—as in he didn’t end up on his face. I think he might have twisted an ankle, though, he favored one side a little. Not that it stopped him from running it again a third time. Or a fourth.
By the fifth, we’d gained some attention. People walking home stopped to watch, clapping when we hit the targets. I felt like a roadside attraction. Should I be charging fees? Where was a hat when I need one?
Playing to the crowd, Chi waved before running it a sixth time, and this time he added a fancy flip off the edge of the roof before firing the arrows. He still got them into the poles but I could tell that flip cost him, as he landed jerkily again. Either that or he was tiring, his body not able to keep up with the acrobatics.
I shook myself, feeling the multiple landings, but not ready to give in yet. I’d trained for so many years that ‘pain equals gain’ was more a lifestyle than a mantra. A few aches and bruises wouldn’t stop me. Before I could get a foot in that direction, however, a hail came from behind me.
“Hey! Can I try?”
Turning, I spotted a man in the crowd I didn’t know. He had a sleek build, like a runner or a gymnast, bow in hand, a quiver belted along his back like Chi’s. I cocked a brow at him, taking in his stance and expression, judging him to be a native of the area from the tawny coloring of hair and skin. Perhaps an off-duty policeman? He gave off that vibe. “Sure.”
Coming up, he offered a hand. “Wesley,” he introduced himself.
“Bannen, pleasure. Be warned, there’s bad spots on the roof,” I pointed to illustrate, “so don’t go more than about five feet in.”
“Right.” With a pleased smile, he eyed the side of the building, planning his route, then took off running.
Chi came to stand next to me, tired but smug. “You know the entertainment is good when the spectators want to join in.”
I cackled. “True. He looks like he knows what he’s doing?”
Eyeing the man’s scramble up the side of the building, Chi lifted a hand, tilting it back and forth in a so-so motion. “Maybe? He’s not very fast.”
“Well, we can’t all be nimble,” I allowed graciously. When he finally reached the roof, a thought occurred. “I didn’t warn him about the landing. Do you think I should have?”
“Normal people think about that sort of stuff,” Chi assured me absently, watching as Wesley fired. “Whoops, not fast enough.”
Wesley did not make it. He got three arrows airborne, but only two came near the poles, neither of them landing at the top. The third went wide by several inches. Then he had to focus on landing right, and he tucked himself in, rolling credibly enough that he ended up on his knees and a chagrined expression on his face. Really, he did rather well. Chi’s just exceptional, no man should be held to that standard.
A little hangdog and frustrated, Wesley came back to us. “How many times have you done this?”
“Ah,” I had to think about that for a second. “Six times? Well, I mean here specifically. I’ve done somewhat similar things before.”
For some reason that made him more determined. “Can I run it again?”
“Break a leg,” I invited.
In retrospect, I disappointed myself. I should’ve known better than to call upon the goddess of bad luck like that.
For the second time in two days, I found myself kneeling in front of my wife, seriously in trouble. Chi kneeled right there with me, all sorts of resigned. Unlike last time, Vee had joined my wife, as well as Maksohm, and between the three of them, they presented the best job at Disappointed Face I’d ever seen. Bar none.
This was going to go so poorly.
“In my defense—” Chi started hopefully “—he ran it the first time just fine, didn’t he, Bannen?”
“He really did, like a pro,” I answered, bobbing my head up and down in enthusiastic support of this. “And he asked, it wasn’t like we were just inviting random people, right Chi?”
“Right, he totally asked.”
Vee gave a laborious sigh, and no one could sigh like a giant, even a part giant. Whole lakes and tides could be affected by that sigh. “Chi. Let me get this straight. I told you not to shoot at Bannen—”
“I didn’t do that,” Chi assured her proudly.
“—so your next thought was that it would be safer to fire at poles while jumping off a decaying, two-story building?”
He lost his smile and stared up at her uncertainly. “Is this a trick question? I feel like this is a trick question. I would appreciate this not being a trick question. How about true/false, I do better with true/false.”
“No.”
“Well, mother hugger.” Because Chi was my brother from another mother, he promptly threw me und
er the train. “It was Bannen’s idea.”
All eyes switched immediately to me. Thanks a lot, Chi. “Well, you said no firing at each other, and we both know how to jump from tall places and land correctly…”
Rena tapped a finger against her upper arm, giving me a basilisk stare. Seriously, she could strip paint from metal with that stare. “I know good and well that you can safely jump from those sorts of heights and land without serious injury. But didn’t it occur to you that perhaps, just perhaps, other people, NORMAL people, don’t have that same skillset? That perhaps you should warn them that you’re specially trained, and an MISD agent, and maybe they shouldn’t follow in your completely crazy footsteps?”
Okay, admitting to this might have been a mistake. “Noooooo,” I said at last, drawing the word out in the hopes that by the time I finished it, Rena would have forgotten what the question was. I didn’t expect to be that lucky, but hey, I had to try.
“Even after you wrenched your shoulder?” she inquired with saccharine sweetness.
Sards. Of course she could see that. It was very inconvenient, having a wife that could literally see through everything.
Maksohm’s head dropped back so he could stare at the sky. Not that I blamed him, skies were nice, they didn’t demand problematic answers from you. “Of course he did. And judging by the way Chi’s moving, he’s wrenched his ankle.”
“Mild twinge,” Chi denied instantly. “I can walk it off.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Vee retorted threateningly. “And get up, both of you, you look ridiculous.”
Since we were still outside, at the field, in broad view of the street, I was just as happy to stand and not give the spectators any more of a show. Our new friend had already been healed by Vee and sent off home. They were just watching for the fallout.
I found it very unreasonable that Wesley’s broken legs were somehow my fault. If he couldn’t stick the landing, he had no business jumping in the first place.
“If you felt that way about it, you should have stopped him,” Rena informed me archly.
“So, did I just, did I just say that aloud?” I asked her, appalled at my mouth. I mean, come on mouth, we’re on the same side, work with me here. “Out of curiosity? Because I was not intending to say that aloud, and yet, I’m pretty sure I did, and that was not—”
Because Rena loved me, she put a hand over my mouth to stop it from running away from me again. She’s really the best wife ever. “Stop, honey. Just stop. How about we let Vee heal your shoulder, and you come back to the hotel with me and soak in a hot tub for a while, yeah? And let’s stop terrorizing the citizens here by convincing them they can leap off buildings in a single bound.”
That sounded like I wasn’t really in trouble. Which I could work with. “Okay.”
“And after I heal you,” Vee informed her husband, her look leaning more towards affection than exasperation, “you’re coming to bed.”
He desperately needed the sleep, but Chi shrugged this off. “I’m not really tired.”
She leaned in and with a very practiced move, kissed him thoroughly. It was almost embarrassing to watch, although fortunately brief. Brief enough for public viewing, anyway. “Bed,” she repeated sternly, a twinkle in her brown eyes.
“Are you trying to get me to associate you getting your way with me getting steamy kisses?” Chi asked suspiciously.
Vee paused. “Does that work?”
“It sure might. You’re dangerous.” Chi promptly held up his ankle toward her. “Heal me, love of my life, then I will happily crawl into bed with you.”
Chuckling, she bent her magic to the task. I had no doubt that when they did get to a bed, they wouldn’t initially be sleeping, but hopefully if she got him horizontal long enough, he’d fall asleep.
Maksohm put a hand on my shoulder and leaned in, exasperated and stern all in one. “And perhaps I should tell you two how you’re going to train for the remainder of our stay here. Just to keep you two out of trouble.”
“Okay,” I agreed meekly.
“They what?” Maksohm demanded from somewhere behind me.
I turned sharply, as I knew that tone intimately well. Something very bad had just gone down. Rena went equally taut and watchful next to me, our eyes glued on our team leader.
Maksohm stared blindly ahead over the street, then turned, facing south, expression as dark as a mother storm. “How many? We can’t portal just yet, we’re two blocks from our hotel and we need to grab our gear. We’ll portal immediately from there. Yes, sir. Trust me, sir, we’ll do everything we can. Yes.”
None of that sounded good. As soon as he ended the call, I demanded, “What?”
“Three familiars returned to their masters in Alyadar,” Maksohm answered in a voice leaden with doom. “They’re, and I quote, ‘Acting sarding strange and look like Toh’sellor minions,’ according to the agent on scene. They’ve been safely corralled and are under a barrier, but we’re being urged to get there with all speed. Rena, this goes without saying, but they’re somehow hoping that you can strip Toh’sellor’s influence from the familiars and save them.”
A tight, pinched look came over my wife’s face. “If they’re anything like true Toh’sellor minions, or even like the monkeys we just saw in Njorage, that won’t be possible.”
“I know. I think our bosses know that too, but we urge you to try and find another method. If one doesn’t exist, everyone will understand.”
Everyone but the young mages who’d be forced to lose their familiars permanently. I put an arm around Rena’s shoulders and hugged her to me, silently trying to show my support, because I knew very well how much she hated this situation. We both knew intimately well what it felt like to lose a familiar. She held me just as firmly, her grip possessive and protective. I appreciated it. Hearing what happened to the familiars was bad enough, but knowing I’d see it soon, that I’d face what could potentially happen to me—the idea brought bile to the back of my throat. I felt the distinct urge to stay in my wife’s shadow.
We started running for the hotel, Vee quickly outpacing us. Even as we stomped up the stairs, I could hear Maksohm use the TMC, calling other people. Over the sound of our pounding feet, I couldn’t hear him, but I could guess well enough. No doubt setting up another portal train like the last one to get us quickly down to Alyadar.
“This better not continue,” Rena said to me to me, puffing for breath a little, generally unhappy and growing more vexed by the moment. “For one, we can’t keep jaunting about the world like this without any real results. It’ll be too hard on us.”
Emotionally and physically. I understood exactly what she meant. “And we’ll exhaust all of the agents capable of portal magic, too. That’s the other thing you’re afraid of.”
“It’s just so draining to portal people any real distance,” she agreed, pausing as we went through the front lobby doors, heading for the stairs. “If we keep doing it in these continent-long jaunts, we’ll drain everyone badly, and when we finally do manage to find Toh’sellor, we might not have the strength we need to fight it properly. It’s worse than when it was caged in Z’gher, in that way. At least there we had a dedicated force keeping it caged, a routine. This haphazard knocking about puts people in the wrong place at the wrong time, then drains people of energy and magic.”
“And there’s nothing we can do about it.” I gave her shoulder another squeeze, because I understood and shared the frustration.
Fortunately, it took a bare two minutes to reach our room, grab our gear, and head back down again. An agent stood waiting for us in a private room off the lobby, and she lifted the portal into place the minute Maksohm gave her the go-ahead.
We strode through the portal, landing back in Sira, although I didn’t recognize which town. We were technically outside of it, along one of the major roads. The agent there—and this one had to be on the verge of retirement, judging by that white hair of his—already
had the portal up and waved us impatiently through.
We went again, and this time I knew the place before I even got my foot fully on the paved road: Alyadar. The city didn’t give off the vibe of distress or anxiety, so our agent on site must have contained the problem very well. Maksohm turned, counted heads, making sure he had all of his ducklings. Satisfied, he gave a nod and strode off, leading the way.
The only time I was ever in Alyadar was to catch a train, so I knew the road from the ferry to the train station very well. The rest of the city was a big mystery to me. Fortunately, Maksohm seemed much more familiar with it, as he never stopped to ask for directions, just confidently took one turn after the next, leading away from the business district and into a more residential area. It took me a minute, as it looked different at sunset than at night, but I remembered the place. This was the same master as before, or at least a master in the same area. We’d been here with Nora when the familiars were first kidnapped. I held my breath, not sure how to feel about going back to the same place, but it turned out it really was the same. I recognized the three-story brick house with a gable roof that sat squarely at the end of the road. Maksohm went up the driveway without pause, calling out as he did so, “I’m Special Agent Dah’lil Maksohm with the MISD.”
No one appeared, but from the backyard, another female voice responded, “Dah’lil, back here!”
We rounded the corner of the house, our feet crunching on the snow-covered gravel, half-dreading what we’d see.
Yeah, that looked bad.
Nora—bless all deities she was the one on scene—stood nearby, actively holding a dome-shaped barrier that nearly touched the back patio and the fence on all sides. Under it were three familiars that definitely had been altered by Toh’sellor. My best guess was they’d started out as a jackal, an owl, and an octopus. Not any longer. The jackal had six tails and a massive head that looked far too heavy for its own shoulders. The owl stood as tall as a person, wings flapping in annoyance, although instead of making normal owl hoots, it squeaked and strained, as if its throat no longer worked correctly. The octopus was…
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