When Caina Amalas saw the Inquisition agent come into the Cattleman’s Pride, she knew the job was about to get complicated.
She saw the silver glow of the Mask spell as the agent walked through the door. The ordeal in the Shadowlands hadn’t given Caina the ability to see through Mask spells, but she saw the silver glow of illusion magic easily enough. Human wizards were not allowed to know illusion spells, at least not legally, which meant that the man wrapped in the silver glow was an Inquisitor, probably even a Knight of the Inquisition.
That was interesting. Caina knew that Joseph Sulzer had been involved in some nasty business, but she didn’t know he had gone far enough to draw the attention of the Inquisition.
That was also bad. Caina had spent two weeks setting this up, masquerading as a waitress, waiting until she could get close enough to mirror Sulzer’s phone. It had been a lot of boring, difficult work, but she had made more in tips than she would have expected. More importantly, she had been able to get close enough to mirror the phone.
But she was, technically, only a private investigator, and if the Knight of the Inquisition wanted to take the phone Caina had just mirrored to Sulzer’s, she wouldn’t have much choice but to give it up.
And that was the best possible outcome.
Because other Elves could cast the Mask spell. The official news claimed that all the Archons had died in the Mage Fall, but Caina knew better than to believe the official news. She had run into a few shadow agents employed by Elven lords, and they knew how to cast the Cloak spell. For that manner, the official news claimed that all the Elves were the benevolent guardians of mankind, but Caina knew better. Some Elves enjoyed larceny and theft just as much as humans did.
On the other hand, maybe the Masked Elf was here for another reason. Sulzer had a lot of unsavory friends, and perhaps the Masked Elf was here to investigate one of them.
It might not be Caina’s problem.
Except when she slipped the mirrored phone into her pocket, the Masked man went into the men’s room and came out wrapped in the distinctive silver glow of a Cloak spell.
And he started following Caina.
That was exceptionally bad. It was strange to see a Cloak spell in use. Caina’s physical eyes couldn’t see the Cloaked Elf, but she saw the rippling silver distortion of the illusion magic. It was an unsettling sight, and even more unsettling since it was heading right towards her.
Well, hell.
Best to deal with this quickly and quietly before anyone else got hurt.
Caina kept a cheery smile on her face as she crossed the main floor and headed to the kitchen. She told the supervisor that she was going to take a cigarette break and stepped into the alley and started walking away.
One way or another, she was leaving the Cattleman’s Pride tonight.
And as Caina expected, the Cloaked Elf followed her into the alley.
She walked at a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow. She felt the crawling tingle on her skin that marked the presence of magic, the crawling tingle that she had felt ever since she had escaped the Baron’s laboratory as a child. Caina couldn’t use magic, but she could both sense it and see it.
And the Elf following her didn’t know that.
But right now, she needed an excuse to turn around.
The phone ought to serve for that.
Caina drew the cell phone from her pocket and lifted it to her ear.
“Hey, babe,” she said, keeping her Brooklyn accent in place. “I got it. No, no one saw me.”
Caina slowed as if listening to the call.
She felt the Cloaked Elf draw nearer.
“Uh huh,” said Caina. “Okay, I’ll head to the meeting point. A white van? Okay.”
She picked up her pace. There was another light bolted over one of the club’s fire doors, and Caina wanted to see who was under the Cloak spell.
And if this business was going to leave a corpse behind, she wanted a good look at it first.
She slowed again as she approached the light. The Cloaked Elf remained behind her.
“What do you mean I have to wait?” said Caina, putting a note of fear into her voice. “For God’s sake. Don’t you know how dangerous this?”
She stopped and then began to pace, as if agitated. The Cloaked Elf stopped as well. To the vision of the valikarion, the Cloaking spell created a shimmering silver outline. Though the outline was short for an Elf, come to think of it.
“Okay, okay, okay,” said Caina, taking a step towards the Cloaked Elf. “I’ll wait, I’ll wait. Just hurry up. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to...”
In mid-sentence, Caina whirled and drove her right fist into the Cloaked Elf’s stomach with all the strength she could muster. She felt the blow connect, heard the sudden explosion of breath from the Elf’s lungs. Before her invisible opponent could react, Caina sidestepped, her reflexes taking over her limbs. She had practiced the methods of unarmed combat over and over until they had become automatic, and she hammered her right heel into the back of the Elf’s right leg. The limb bucked, and the Elf fell backward to the ground, the Cloak spell collapsing as his concentration wavered.
And as the Elf fell, Caina held out her right hand and called her valikon.
Shards of silver light flew into her hand and assembled into a short sword of strange silver metal, the blade gently curved and inscribed with Elven hieroglyphics. The hieroglyphs glowed with harsh white light. In one smooth motion, Caina put her left foot on the Elf’s right wrist and rested the tip of the valikon against the Elf’s throat.
Except it wasn’t an Elf.
It was a human girl. No, a small woman of about Caina’s age, with brown hair and gray eyes that looked a little crazed. She was wearing black jeans, a gray sweater, and a long black pea coat, clothes that were way too warm for the hot, humid night, and Caina saw the glow of magical power around her.
A lot of magical power.
The woman was a wizard, and a strong one. Though that was obvious from the Cloaking spell. But the woman was much stronger than any other human wizard Caina had ever seen, stronger even than many Elven nobles.
And before Caina could do anything else, the woman cast a spell.
The fingers of her right hand brushed Caina’s left ankle, and she recognized the distinctive gray glow of the mindtouch spell. But the mind-altering magic did not affect the valikarion, and the spell rolled off Caina without touching her mind. A flicker of puzzlement went over the small woman’s face.
Recognition started to stir in Caina’s mind.
“Let’s talk this over,” said Caina, “before someone gets...”
The woman started to cast another spell.
“Stop that,” said Caina, giving the woman's throat a gentle tap with the valikon’s point. “I can see when you do that, and...”
The woman cast her next spell so fast that Caina didn’t have time to react.
She didn’t have time to summon a lot of magic, but what she called was more than enough. It was a quick burst of elemental magic, and a flicker of lightning coiled up Caina’s left leg. Mind-affecting magic did not touch a valikarion, but Caina had no such protection against spells of lightning. It wasn’t a powerful jolt, but it was enough to make Caina’s muscles clench and twitch, and she staggered back, jamming her left arm against the wall, the phone still clutched in her left hand and the valikon in her right.
Quick as the lightning, the woman rolled back to her feet, fire crackling around her fingers as she called more magic.
And then the recognition clicked in Caina’s mind.
“Wait,” she said. “I know who you are.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, her head tilted to the side.
“You’re Nadia Moran,” said Caina. “You’re the Inquisition agent who killed that Rebel leader and saved New York. It was on all the news channels.”
Moran stared at her, and a look of annoyance went over her face.
“Damned reporters,” she muttered. She had a throaty voice, a little lower than average for a woman, though with a clipped Midwestern accent.
“Yeah, I’m not fond of them,” said Caina, her mind racing. She had been afraid that an Inquisition agent had come to the Cattleman’s Pride, and Moran was an Inquisition agent or something like it. But perhaps there was an opportunity here. “Before you set my head on fire, maybe we could talk first?”
Moran’s eyes narrowed. “You attacked me.”
Caina smiled. “And you were following me down a darkened alley in a bad neighborhood at night. What was I supposed to think?” She gestured with the valikon. “And I could have cut your throat before you got back up, but I didn’t.”
Moran mulled that over for a moment, though the hard gray eyes didn’t blink.
“That’s a good point,” she said at last. “How the hell did you know I was there?”
“I don’t know you well enough to tell you,” said Caina. “How the hell can you use a Cloaking spell like that? I’ve never seen a human able to do it.”
A ghost of a smile went over Moran’s face. “I don’t know you well enough to tell you. But let’s just say it involved lots and lots of practice.”
“All right,” said Caina. “What do you think? Can we have a discussion? Or are you going to burn a hole through my chest?”
Moran shook her head. “No. Let’s talk. I never like to kill people, and I think we might be after the same thing.”
Caina nodded and dismissed her valikon. The blade disassembled itself into shards of silver light and vanished. Moran’s eyes widened a little, but Caina spoke before she could ask the obvious question.
“First question,” said Caina. “Are you after me personally, or did you want something else?”
Moran shook her head, and then lowered her hand, the magical fire fading away. “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Happens to me a lot.”
Moran snorted. “Really? I can relate. Anyway, my boss wants Sulzer to go down. He’s a clever bastard, and he’s covered his tracks well enough that Homeland Security hasn’t been able to go after him. I need irrefutable proof. Then I saw you mirror his phone to yours, and I figured it was my best chance.” She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone who could see through a Cloak spell before.”
Ah. Moran had figured that out already, had she? Well, it was obvious. Caina wondered if Moran had ever encountered a valikarion before.
“You’re being very open,” said Caina. “For all you know, I’m working for Sulzer.”
“No, you’re not,” said Moran. “If you were working for him, you wouldn’t have mirrored his phone and slipped out the back door. Pretty sure you’re not coming back to finish up your shift, either.”
“Well, waiting tables is a lot of work, and it’s so loud and hot in there,” said Caina. Moran was only half-right, though. Marianna the waitress was about to disappear, but if Caina came back to the Cattleman’s Pride, she was going to bring more weapons. “And as it happens, we have something else in common. My boss wants Sulzer to encounter difficulties as well.”
Moran blinked. “Who are you working for?”
“I’m not going to tell you that,” said Caina. “No more than you’re going to tell me who you’re working for, Nadia Moran, agent of the Inquisition.”
Moran almost smiled at that. “You shouldn’t believe everything you see on the news.”
“Definitely not,” said Caina. “But since you’re a wizard, you might know the reason already. Someone in Sulzer’s inner circle is using dark magic, possibly even necromancy.”
“A retired soldier from the Wizard’s Legion?” said Moran.
“Could be,” said Caina. “Though the soldiers of the Legion are almost always fanatically devoted to the High Queen. And I checked. None of Sulzer’s employees are former Legion soldiers.” Caina shrugged. “Could be Sulzer has a Dark Ones cultist in his organization. Or maybe a renegade Archon sheltering after the battle of New York. The Mage Fall was supposed to have killed them all...”
“All the ones on Kalvarion, anyway,” said Moran.
“But maybe an Archon’s hiding out here,” said Caina. “Regardless, my employer wants to see Sulzer go down.” She hesitated, and then slipped the phone in its mirroring case back into her pocket. The sooner she got the phone back to the branch office, the better, but she didn’t dare leave a potential enemy like Moran at her back.
But did Nadia Moran really need to be an enemy?
“It occurs to me,” said Caina, “that we might have an opportunity here.”
“Oh?” said Moran. “If you’re going to offer me a ten percent discount on my next order, no thanks. The food in there smells disgusting.”
“It really is,” said Caina. “I hope you didn’t eat any of it. But my boss wants Sulzer to go down, and your boss wants Sulzer to go down...there’s some common ground here.”
Moran thought it over. “What do you want to happen to Sulzer?”
Caina shrugged. “Arrested and tried, preferably. His crimes are severe enough that if he goes to trial, he’s going to get executed.”
“My boss wants the same thing,” said Moran. “Sulzer...made some friends with the wrong people.”
“The Rebels, you mean?” said Caina.
“Ha, guess you know about that,” said Moran.
“He’s had a lot of people after him for some time,” said Caina.
“He must have if he has people like us sniffing after him,” said Moran. Her smile showed teeth. “I don’t come cheap. I bet you don’t either.”
Caina smiled back. “Let’s just say my standard hourly rate is a bit higher than I can make waiting tables. I suggest we work together. We’re both basically going after the same thing, and if we work independently, we might accidentally trip each other up at a bad time.”
“Or I’ll burn your face off, and you’ll stab me to death in an alley?” said Moran.
“Something like that, yes,” said Caina.
She watched Moran. Caina could see the wheels spinning behind Moran’s eyes. The woman had an excellent poker face, and there was something frankly unsettling about her gray eyes. This was an extraordinarily dangerous woman. Caina would have guessed that, even if she hadn’t seen Moran use magic.
But, then, she had already saved Caina’s life, hadn’t she? She had saved the life of everyone in New York when she had thrown that bomb into the rift way. Caina had been in Manhattan on the day of the Rebel attack, and she had wound up fighting and barely escaping from a group of orcish mercenaries in the employ of the Archons. Had Moran not thrown that bomb into the Shadowlands, New York would have been destroyed, and Caina would have died with everyone else in the city.
The official news lied about a lot of things, but Caina was pretty sure it hadn’t lied about that.
“Are you with Homeland Security or the Inquisition?” said Moran. “Because if you are, we can’t work together. This needs to stay quiet.”
“I’m not,” said Caina. “Homeland Security can take the credit for Sulzer’s downfall for all I care. I don’t care about credit, and I also prefer to keep things quiet.”
“Then let’s talk,” said Moran. She looked around and grimaced. “Preferably someplace other than a grimy alley right next to our target.”
“Agreed,” said Caina. “Let’s stop by my van first. I want to change.”
Moran smirked. “Chilly?”
“You’re the one wearing the heavy coat in ninety-degree weather,” said Caina. “I’m quite comfortable. But an outfit that doesn’t show quite so much skin would…”
She trailed off as a flicker of green light caught her eye.
At the same time, the crawling tingle that meant the presence of magic went over her skin.
Caina took a quick step back in alarm, scanning the alley for any sign of enemies. She and Moran were alone, and Caina took a quick glance up, making sure no snipers were lurking on the rooftop of the Cattleman’s Pride and the retail establishment across the street. No one ever looked up, after all.
But it was a wasted effort. Caina and Moran were alone in the alley.
But Caina saw the green light shining through the brick walls of the Cattleman’s Pride.
It wasn’t really light, of course. The vision of the valikarion beheld the currents of magic without any physical senses, but Caina’s brain interpreted the sensation as lines and auras of glowing light. But somewhere within the Cattleman’s Pride, someone was using necromantic magic.
Powerful necromantic magic, come to think of it.
“What is it?” said Moran, taking a step back, elemental fire dancing around her thin fingers again. She had seen Caina’s reaction
“Someone’s casting a spell inside the club,” said Caina. “A powerful one.”
Moran gave her a sharp look. “How do you know that? Are you a wizard?”
“No,” said Caina, “but I know a necromantic spell when I see it.”
“Necromantic?” said Moran, her eyes widening. She cast a spell, and Caina recognized the spell to sense the presence of magical forces. “What the hell? Who the hell is using necromancy in the club? Does Sulzer have a goddamned myothar in the basement?”
“I don’t know,” said Caina, “but we can discuss it elsewhere.”
“Yeah...wait, shit,” said Moran. “Let’s move. Come on.”
She jogged for the end of the alley, and Caina followed, her heels clacking against the asphalt. There was a time for stealth, but she was increasingly sure that this wasn’t it.
“You’ve had an idea,” said Caina.
“I was Masked for most of the time I was in the club,” said Moran. “Wizards can’t sense Cloak spells – except you, apparently – but they can sense Mask spells. If Sulzer is a wizard or he has one working for him, he would sense the Masking spell.”
“Which means the necromantic spell might be in response to you,” said Caina.
“Yeah, just my luck,” said Moran.
They came out of the alley and into the parking lot behind the Cattleman’s Pride. It was a big parking lot by the standards of this part of Brooklyn, surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with a roll of razor wire. The club charged employees an exorbitant fee to use this lot, so Caina had parked her van in the structure a few blocks away. That was even more expensive, but she had a lot of specialized equipment in her van, and she didn’t want Sulzer’s people stumbling across it by accident.
“Maybe we should get out of here,” said Caina. “Like, right now.”
“Good idea,” said Moran, looking around. “Don’t suppose you have a car here?”
“No,” said Caina. “I’m parked in the ramp a few blocks away.”
“Huh, me too. Great minds think alike and all that,” said Moran. “Let’s get to our cars and get the hell out of here. We can meet up and talk more tomorrow.”
“Agreed,” said Caina, “we...”
The tingling against her skin got worse, and she felt a sudden chill in the air.
She saw the currents of necromantic power flowing from the club.
“Something coming for us,” said Caina.
“A spell?” said Moran, looking around. “If they’re casting a necromantic spell at us, I can probably block it.”
“No, creatures of some kind,” said Caina. “We’ll have to fight.”
Moran scowled but nodded. “Let’s get to the street. No security cameras there. And you can summon that glowing sword thing of yours if need be.”
“It’s called a valikon,” said Caina, looking to see if Moran recognized the term.
“You gave your sword a name?” said Moran. “Well, okay. Seems a very masculine thing to do, but whatever works.”
Caina stifled a smile. No, Nadia Moran had never heard of a valikon. But few people ever had. Few of the modern Elves even knew what a valikon was or even knew of the valikarion. The High Queen and the Lord Inquisitor Arvalaeon knew, certainly. Lord Morvilind had probably known of the valikons and the valikarion, but he had died to destroy the Archons, and his knowledge had died with him.
And unless Caina missed her guess, Moran was about to see what a valikon could do.
Assuming they weren’t both killed, of course.
“Come on,” said Caina, and they started running again. They ran through the parking lot, past the startled gate attendant in his booth, and into the street. Caina turned a corner and headed down the sidewalk, old brick buildings rising on either side of the street.
The green haze of necromantic power surged before her sight.
“Here it comes,” said Caina. She came to a stop and called her valikon to her hand, and the sword assembled itself out of shards of silver light. “Get ready.”
Moran looked around, scowling. “What are we...”
The specters rose out of the street.
They were ghostly images fashioned of haze and blue light, their eyes glowing, their bodies translucent. The specters looked like orcish mercenaries clad in their distinctive armor, a mixture of ballistic plates and chain mail. Fatal wounds marred their bodies, gunshots to the head and chest. Almost certainly these were the specters of orcish mercenaries who had been killed during the battle of New York. The souls of the mercenaries had passed to whatever fate awaited them after death, but the violent energy of their deaths had left an impression in the Shadowlands. Sulzer, or whatever necromancer he sheltered, had used dark magic to charge those impressions with killing power and send them after Caina and Moran.
“What the hell?” said Moran, her eyes narrowed. Caina suspected that Moran had never encountered specters before. Strangely, she looked more annoyed than afraid. Fear would have been a more appropriate response, given that there were dozens of the creatures surrounding them in a ring. “What is this, a light show?”
“Specters,” said Caina, watching the ring. God, there had to be nearly a hundred of the creatures. “Minor undead. They’ll try to swarm us and drain away our lives. Don’t let them touch you for too long. It...”
One of the specters glided towards Caina, reaching for her with translucent hands. Caina sidestepped, slashing the valikon as she did. The specter was immaterial, but she felt the blade tug and catch on something as her weapon sliced through its chest. A valikon was proof against all kinds of magic, and the touch of the ancient blade unraveled the necromantic spells that empowered the specter. The creature shuddered and dissolved into nothingness. A single touch from the valikon could destroy a specter.
That was good, but there were nearly a hundred more of the undead creatures.
Moran gestured and cast a spell. A sphere of fire whirled to life over her fingers, so hot that Caina felt the heat of it wash over her arms and face. Moran flicked her fingers, and the sphere of fire leaped from her hand.
It passed through the specters without touching them and splashed against the street, melting a line of asphalt.
Caina shook her head. “Fire won’t do anything. You’d need lightning, or...”
More of the specters lunged at her, and Caina dodged, slashing the valikon right and left. The silver blade passed through the specters and unraveled them, but more of the creatures advanced. Caina was caught in a ring of them, and she needed to get out. Yet if she tried to run through the specters, the chill effect of their touch would overwhelm her, and she would collapse.
Then the specters would swarm her and kill her like vultures swooping upon a dying animal.
“Lightning?” said Moran. “Why didn’t you say so?”
She gestured again, and Caina felt a massive spike of magical power. Currents of magical force flowed into her hands, and Moran cast a spell. Eight fist-sized globes of blue-white lightning leaped from her hands and tore into the specters. The undead unraveled beneath the force of Moran’s magic, and she started casting again.
Caina seized the opportunity and attacked, swinging and stabbing her valikon. Moran cast another volley of lightning globes, and another, and the ring of specters fell back in disarray. Caina cut down another specter with every stride, remembering the movements her instructors had pounded into her muscles. Stab, thrust, retract, the valikon ripping through an undead creature with every step, the hieroglyphs on the blade burning brighter and hotter.
Then Caina slashed through one more specter, and none of the creatures remained.
Caina looked around, but she and Moran were alone. Moran’s magic had made a lot of light and noise, but no one seemed to have noticed. Or if anyone had noticed, they had taken the sensible course and fled in the other direction.
She met the other woman’s gaze.
“Okay,” said Caina. “Now that was a light show.”
Moran’s lip twitched. “Ha. Thanks. Well, those specters were following me, so it seemed only fair.” She tilted her head, and Caina heard the distant wail of sirens. “Guess someone saw our little light show. Shall we get the hell out of here?”
“Good idea,” said Caina.
“Thanks for not cutting my throat, Marianna,” said Moran.
Caina hesitated and then decided to extend a bit of trust. If Moran wanted her dead, it would have been easy to let the specters do it. “My name is Caina.”
***