Dance of Destinies (The Galactic Mage Series Book 5) (36 page)

The older boy shook off the headshot he’d gotten and quickly fished something out of his pants waistband. It was a small laser gun. Pernie saw it and knew exactly what it was. She’d been looking through weapons catalogs on the net since she figured out how it worked and how to find such things. There were so many wonderful weapons out there, at least a hundred of which she wanted to own one day.

“Put that shit down, bitch,” he said, gesturing to her broomstick with a movement of his chin. “I swear, I’ll do this little bastard right now.” He pressed the laser against Jeremy’s temple.

The flattened end of Pernie’s broomstick sank a full two inches into his eye socket. He screamed and fell to the ground before he’d even realized she’d thrown it. His laser and Jeremy both fell to the pavement beside him. Pernie snatched up the laser and put it in her sweater pocket. She helped Jeremy to his feet as the blinded youth grabbed his face and rolled about making a ruckus.

“He … he could have shot me,” Jeremy said, looking down at the figure thrashing on the ground.

“No, he couldn’t,” Pernie said.

“Yes, he could. What if you had missed? He could have shot me, and I’d be dead right now.”

Pernie pulled the laser back out of her pocket. “No,” she repeated, pointing to the three lights along one side, none of which were lit. “Look. The battery is dead.”

Jeremy looked at the laser, his mouth slowly opening as he thought about what she’d said. He looked back at the young man lying in the street. The youth had pulled the broomstick out, and now blood was spewing everywhere. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, a high-pitched, piercing wail. Jeremy watched him for a moment, then looked back at Pernie again. “Damn,” he said.

Pernie shrugged. “We should hurry. There’s still plenty of daylight for me to get home.”

Jeremy was nearly dumbstruck, but he stumbled along with her, alternating his unending dialogue between how he’d almost died and how Pernie was like one of those Darma Force commando guys. Pernie didn’t know what “Darma Force commando guys” were, but she did know she wanted to get out of there before all that screaming got the stupid Reno PD to come get her again. She’d gone to all the trouble to cut out her chip and wrap it in tinfoil in her bag so they
couldn’t
find her, and she sure didn’t want to get hauled back to Sophia Hayworth by them again now. That was likely to get her sent back to Prosperion for sure.

Unfortunately, the police cruiser was waiting for her at the end of the block.

Chapter 36

B
y the time Roberto and his crew arrived at dinner at Calico Castle, the meal had already begun, though just barely so. Kettle caught them entering and gave Roberto a scolding look as she passed him by. “I should say ya could find the time ta show up proper fer a grand meet such as this,” she said. “Kept the master, the great doctor, and the general all sittin’ there o’er an hour waitin’ on yer leisure.” She winked after it, though, and patted him on the cheek, whispering, “I made that duck-stuffed swan what ya liked so much afore.”

Roberto grinned. “Two birds are better than one,” he said. “And sorry I’m late. Those guys at the TGS are assholes.”

“Well, ya can watch yer mouth in mixed company in this house,” she said, the long habit of admonishment readily upon her. She looked to his entourage of corseted crew and frowned. “The ladies’ll not be too keen to eat with that offal comin’ from yer mouth.”

“Right. That was me. I apologize.” He turned and winked at Deeqa as the rest of his crew was filing past, greeting Tytamon and being introduced all around. The two of them joined right after, with Roberto and Deeqa sitting across from each other. Roberto sat between the now slim Doctor Leopold and Liu Chun, whom the doctor had brought back with him from the hospital in Leekant, finally recuperated from injuries caused by a broken coolant tank. Deeqa sat between General Pewter and Tytamon’s exchange student, Angela Hayworth.

“Sorry we’re late, everyone,” Roberto said after giving Liu Chun a hug. He sat down and dragged the heavy chair in behind him with a grunt. “I’m telling you, the TGS has a real stick up their ass. We sat there for nine hours getting back, and our teleport for this trip was booked before we came here last time.”

Kettle sent a grunt of displeasure and a sour look at him before scuttling off toward the kitchens again.

“It’s only going to get worse,” said General Pewter. “There’s been another death on the council.”

Roberto grabbed his goblet and drained it. A girl in her early teens swept out of the shadows beyond the candlelight and refilled it almost immediately. “I didn’t know there’d been a first one,” he admitted. He looked to the girl and thanked her. “You guys sure have better service than any restaurant back on Earth.” She smiled and, seeing that half his crew had already emptied theirs as well, set herself to work.

“Interesting that you should mention it,” the general said. “Councilman Stropleather choked to death on a spinach salad two weeks ago during his first visit to Earth. That raised a few eyebrows, but nobody said much. Bad luck, maybe. But now, they are locking everything down with the death of the new first councilman who replaced Stropleather, Councilman Spinnaker.”

“Yes,” agreed Tytamon. “The death of them both, two weeks apart, suggest not only a conspiracy, but arrogance.”

“Or stupidity,” suggested Roberto.

“I think not. That is a bold move, and a statement.”

“Who is the next in line?” Deeqa asked. “Are they suspect or trembling, new number one?”

“Both, I imagine,” said the general. “The new guy’s name is Ivan Gangue. I’ve never met him, but he looks like a typical bureaucrat.”

“We’ve met him,” Roberto said, pointing with his fork to Deeqa across from him. He swung the fork toward Angela Hayworth then. “He was the one who set up your coming to Prosperion, and he didn’t look too happy about it when that elf dropped the bomb about Pernie going to Earth.”

“He wasn’t,” Angela said. “And it was the big stink it raised that put it on my uncle’s radar in Fort Reno. That’s the only reason I got to come here. I know there was some trouble with her here—I’ve heard the whole story about that”—she paused and cringed as she glanced to Tytamon—“but I’m glad I got out of there. The NTA just isn’t what I thought it would be. I mean, it did start out not so bad, but the longer I was there, the more it changed. Slow at first, but that was like the first bits of snow tumbling down the slope before the avalanche. Maybe I was just naïve, but now it’s crazy there. Nothing they say is true, or at least not exactly.”

“It’s hardly better here, my dear,” said Tytamon. “Which is why I’ve asked you all to come. There are things afoot that, as Miss Hayworth suggests, portend an avalanche. A large one. I haven’t felt such tremors in over two hundred years.”

Roberto snorted. “Well, I thought the whole Hostiles-and-demons-from-hell thing was kind of an avalanche-sized cluster fu—” Kettle had just come in with a tray of the very same duck-stuffed swan she’d promised him. The woman had a gift for that sort of timing, and her glare shot across the flicker of the candles like a thrown knife to cut off the epithet. “That was bad enough,” he finished. “You’re saying it’s going to get worse?”

“The priests are saying that was how it began.”

“Damn. You guys need to get some better priests. The ones you got are major downers.” Roberto looked to Kettle and shrugged.

That got a few chuckles from his crew, but Doctor Leopold was deadly serious when he spoke.

“I looked into what some of the Church gossip has been putting out. In particular, the Church of Anvilwrath, who seem determined that the time of Tidalwrath’s return is imminent. The Grand Maul’s last statement was over nine months ago, and no one has seen him since.”

Roberto cringed, but he wasn’t so bothered by it to be prevented from stabbing several slices of swan and duck together. “I thought he came back already, that Tidalwrath one. Wasn’t he the one that pissed off the giant rock monster with the long arm that the orcs brought?”

Doctor Leopold shook his head. “Anvilwrath’s return was prophesied. His judgment would fall upon the people. If the pleas of Feydore could sway him to spare them—us—then the sacrifice of love would be complete. The gods would once more protect Prosperion, and Tidalwrath would be allowed to return and once more rule the seas. All would be whole again. Even the priests of Mercy agreed, which is rare. They say that she will intercede when time comes to bring love back.”

“Yeah, that’s a hell of a story, I’ll give you that,” Roberto said, despite his mouth being stuffed with duck meat. “I definitely like having just one God to worry about.”

“Well,” said Tytamon, “however much of that is accurate divination, and how much is story to fill in the gaps, is a matter aside. The real issue is still as it has been. We must first find a way to get Altin and Orli free. We must also learn the nature of the aliens and their intentions on Yellow Fire.”

“I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’m going to,” the general said. “I’m going to because I’m tired of being strapped to the deck in all of this. Command is planning to blow Yellow Fire straight to hell the moment those aliens get to the heart chamber. There’s a hundred-megaton nuke sitting in one of those crates down there.” He looked straight to Roberto. “That wasn’t all simple mining charges you put down there, regardless of how they labeled the crates.”

Roberto nodded. “I figured as much. And I knew that’s what they were going to do. If that was supposed to be a secret, it’s a pretty obvious one.”

“Yes, but now it’s not a secret you all don’t have. And I’m damn sure not going to push the button.”

“Who else has one to push?” Roberto held his goblet up for the serving girl, who was refilling the general’s cup just then.

“Director Bahri, of course. And Admiral Putin.”

“Putin? Are you serious? He’s one of Asad’s cronies. How could they have given access to that guy?”

“It’s the fleet, Roberto. You more than anyone should know how it works.”

Roberto looked to his empty goblet as he shook his head. Maybe he should just get his own pitcher if this was how the night was going to go.

“Regardless of which of them plans to push the button,” Tytamon said, looking to the general, “we must get my apprentice and that sweet girl of yours before they do.”

“Well, you said you can’t look through the hull of that alien ship,” Roberto said. “So they got a block on your magic somehow. At least defending the ship. Like maybe that anti-magic stuff you guys were casting on our nukes, right? Or some of that warding stuff like Altin put on my ship?”

Tytamon nodded as he leaned aside and allowed Kettle to change out his plate for a clean one.

“Which means I need to go,” Roberto said. “Like, now. If magic isn’t going to work, then we just need to handle this old-school style with an ass whipping. So I need a way to get back here after, in case Altin is jacked up somehow after I get him out. So you have to come with me, or I need some harbor stones. Both would be better.”

“I can send you there,” Tytamon conceded, “but as I said, Doctor Leopold and I have work to do. Brute force is not enough. At least not until we know what we are dealing with.”

“He’s got a thousand mechs and a handful of fighters,” Roberto said, pointing at the general. “I think you underestimate what brute force is capable of.”

“Yes, but the ships are large, and we don’t know what they are capable of in terms of brute force on their own.” Tytamon forked meat onto his plate, though the portion suggested he hadn’t much of an appetite. “And as I understand it, the fleet has no intention of sending ships. We haven’t finished our little platform out there … and the reality is that we aren’t in a position to wage war out of Calico Castle just yet. The outcome of our collaboration on such an operation would be seen as an act of war by the people of three worlds at bare minimum. We need to know more.”

“Man, no offense, but it seems like the older people get, the more they want to think about stuff. The clock is ticking on this shit. Yellow Fire’s heart stone was only a three-week dig. Orli did the math. I’m telling you, those spaghetti-bastard aliens are right there. They have to be. We need to go. Tonight.”

“Well, I can make you a harbor stone,” Tytamon said. “But it will take many hours to complete. I haven’t got a Liquefying Stone to speed it up, and getting one would take longer than we have, for reasons too numerous to relate. But I can have one ready by tomorrow night.”

Roberto grunted and speared another slab of duck. “They might not have until tomorrow night.” Kettle set a tray of some kind of root on the table, long and fat tubers with small hairs that had curled up from the heat. She cut one down the middle with a wooden knife, sending filaments of honey-colored light crackling around its surface like lightning. A heavenly sweet aroma wafted up on a cloud of steam. She set it on Roberto’s plate and set to doing the same for Liu Chun.

Tytamon’s expression conveyed that he clearly understood Roberto’s impatience, and shared it. But it changed little. “I’m afraid the work of finding out how to get them out is more essential than getting you there and back just yet. Chariots before chargers and all that rot. The doctor and I will be all night at the divining spell first.”

“Fine, then just send me and the general and as many mechs as my cargo bays can hold,” Roberto said. “That is, if the general wants to come along.”