Grand Magus Lorenzo Rossi scowled, then marked where he was before he shut down the scriber. The past few years working with Wells had been quite profitable, with the enchanting and the tile-based approach that had been licensed to the Guild. There had even been some interesting new creations made from it. Yet Wells was not exactly in his good books at the moment, considering how much more difficult he’d made it to get mordite.
Which made enchanting in general significantly more difficult.
“Very well,” Rossi said, since as annoyed as he was, Wells was an important customer. Maybe not the best customer, but an important one. A man that could destroy one of the six true portals was hardly to be kept waiting. He secured the scriber and rose from the bench, making his way out of the lab.
He had to cross over back to Earth through the Guild’s teleportation system but, since Wells had supplied some extra enchanting for the Guild’s own use, that was less of an imposition than before. Unsurprisingly, one of Wells’ drones was sitting in a small meeting room. Rossi had yet to meet the man in person and doubted he ever would.
The small display on the side of the little box lit up, showing Wells’ face. He prided himself on keeping the Guild up to date with mundane technology, but sometimes he was a little discomfited by how Wells used it. Especially since it was clearly integrated with some amount of enchanting. Not that he was rude enough to probe it with his tools, but he could sense the magic involved.
“What can I do for you, Mister Wells?” Rossi asked, putting on his professional face.
“It’s more the other way around,” Wells said neutrally. “How would you like exclusive access to a new portal world with enchantment resources?”
“What.” Rossi laughed, his composure deserting him at the ridiculous concept. “That’s not really a question, Mister Wells.”
“I suppose not,” Wells said. “I am prepared to offer you that, with the understanding that you will apply pressure against the coalition that is opposing us.”
“The Guild of Enchantment generally remains apolitical,” Rossi said cautiously. Which was self-evident, given that they were dealing with both factions on equal terms.
“Are you familiar with nuclear weaponry?” Wells asked, and Rossi frowned.
“Naturally. I do stay up to date with Earth’s advances.”
“The dragonblooded suggest, and I agree, that if these people break the secrecy of magic we’ll have a nuclear conflict on our hands,” Wells said, lips compressed to a thin line. “It doesn’t seem to me that don’t prey on normal people is too great a burden, but apparently it is.”
“And they threaten you directly,” Rossi said, not overly impressed by the threat of a nuclear deployment. Compared to what magic could do, simply wrecking a city wasn’t so fearful a prospect, and the mundane’s own terror of it made him doubtful it was a serious possibility. Wells’ background as a mundane probably made it seem more important to him.
“And they threaten us directly,” Wells agreed. “But as you said, you’re apolitical and you really don’t need Earth. I don’t expect you to care about that. Which is why I’m offering you a private portal world and all the resources within it.”
“That is hard to believe,” Rossi said, leaning back and considering the offer. If it were true, it was priceless. Assuming there was useful enchanting material, a private portal world could not only be mined for resources but used to house secure laboratories. Or people. “Can you stabilize it the way Duvall does?”
“Not at this time,” Wells admitted. “There is an enchantment that does much the same thing, but it isn’t permanent the way Duvall’s work is. But you can always contract her. I don’t see any reason this portal world would be different from any other.”
Rossi sighed. Duvall’s portal world stabilization was exceedingly expensive and time-intensive. It would have been fantastic to have some competition. But an enchantment that mimicked it would be good enough for the moment; after all, they were the Guild of Enchanting.
“I hesitate to ask, but do you have proof of what you’re offering? The idea of a new portal world is rather extraordinary.”
“Certainly, but you’ll want a portal frame or homebond yourself,” Wells said. “There’s no full portal to it. Not yet.”
Rossi touched the signet ring on his finger, which not only marked him as the head of the Guild of Enchanting but was indeed a homebond. One of the most valuable enchantments available, if rarely used. But for peace of mind, nothing came close.
“I have both,” he said. “I will assemble some of my team before I enter an unknown portal world, though.”
“Good idea,” Wells said. “Just tell the drone when you’re ready.” Rossi nodded sharply, then stood up and left the room, almost bowling over Ordermaster Minot.
“Get Goliri,” Rossi told him, referring to their head of security. “I want a full team. We’re going to be landing in a portal world and it’s not going to be secure. Also get one the portal frames from the vault.”
“Yes, sir,” Minot said, some people to run errands. In half an hour he had an entire expedition put together, and Rossi tapped the box.
“We’re ready,” he said, and Wells’ face appeared again.
“Opening the portal now,” he said, and vis flashed for a moment before a circle showing an expanse of dark and rainswept stone appeared in the air and mana poured out. He waved Goliri forward, and the man crossed through with the portal ring in tow to secure the area.
It occurred to him belatedly that Wells should have supplied a more complete description of the destination — certainly he’d explored it, if he promised enchanting materials, but he didn’t appreciate the lack of information on what hazards there might be. Though if Wells had said nothing, there might not be anything notable. It still paid to be cautious, but he doubted Wells would be so stupid as to try anything underhanded. Not when he was trying to curry favor.
“Clear,” Goliri reported over scry-comm. “Portal frame functional. No threats. You can come ahead.”
Rossi stepped through the portal, which he was aware Wells was still actively holding open, and looked around the portal world, sweeping it with his senses. It looked like a wasteland of stone and water, with rain pouring down from a dark gray sky, and not at all hospitable. But his metal-aspected vis found a not-insignificant amount of material threaded through the rocks beneath their feet, and even in the water collecting in pools and streams about them.
He flicked out some vis, condensing a strand of the metal out of the water and feeling the amount of mana inside. It seemed acceptable, so he twisted the metal into a wire and overlaid his vis, watching it take the enchantment. It would take more experimentation to figure out all the properties, but there was definitely something to it.
“Start setting up an outpost,” he told Goliri. If they were going to be mining enchantable metal from the portal world, or even rock or water, then they needed something to protect them from the elements. And whatever creatures might be out there. He turned back to the portal and stepped through, facing Wells’ device.
“You’re as good as your words, Mister Wells,” Rossi said.
“Then you’ll take a position?” He pressed.
“Yes. Tentatively, at least. More work needs to be done to fully satisfy me of the usefulness of the world’s resources, but even as it stands I believe you have convinced me. Anyway,” he said with a small smile. “Such a massive disruption would be bad for business.”
***
Agent Daniel Lowry grunted as a bump in the road almost made him spill his latte. He frowned at the driver, but it really wasn’t his fault. This deep into the countryside it wasn’t surprising that there was so little maintenance. Daniel was frankly surprised there was power this deep into the sticks. There was nothing around but empty countryside, which meant that Daniel’s coffee was going to be the last good one he was going to get for a while.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and pulling up the map to see where they were. At least there was service, even if they were far away from anywhere civilized. The northern part of Nebraska was barely inhabited, certainly lacking any cities, and it took forever to drive places. Why a supposedly wealthy person like Chester Fredrickson would willingly live in such a place he could not fathom.
“The compound is just ahead,” the driver said, noticing Daniel’s preoccupation. The other two agents next to him also looked up from their laptops, and started packing them up.
“Compound?” Daniel asked. His briefing had been less on Chester’s location and more on resources and holdings. Internal Revenue didn’t concern itself so much with the physical nature of things as the monetary nature. He knew the value of Chester’s holdings, but not their nature.
In response, the agent pointed to what looked like an actual wall, with a gate across the road. Daniel frowned and started typing on his phone. Surely some portion of that construction was illegal. Violating some kind of environmental regulations if nothing else. Since his job was to take Chester down a couple of dozen pegs, there was an endless amount of red tape and fines he could use to snarl the guy.
The gate was manned by people in an actual guard station in the wall. The driver flashed his federal agent identification, but it took entirely too long for someone to open the gate. Daniel added some notes about obstructing federal agents.
The so-called compound was a small town inside the walls, with full-on streets and buildings and shops all around a large central mansion. Daniel scribbled notes about Chester possibly running a cult in his notebook as his driver steered the car inside. There were plenty of people around, but it wasn’t the safe anonymity of the city. Everyone seemed to notice the car driving in, and Daniel shifted uncomfortably.
They pulled to a stop outside the mansion, and Daniel got out of the car, hefting his messenger bag and tucking his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. It was annoyingly cold outside, and he followed his fellow agents Richie and Samuel to the door. Richie pressed the doorbell, and they waited a moment before a woman opened the door.
“Come on inside and warm up,” she invited them, and Daniel scurried inside out of the weather. Even if it was the beginning of spring it was too chill for Daniel. There was a rack for coats that he ignored, preferring to get right to business rather than stay.
“We’re from Internal Revenue,” Daniel said, removing his badge from his breast pocket. Irritatingly, the woman didn’t seem to be too impressed. “We’re here to see Mister Fredrickson.”
“My husband is fairly busy, but I’ll see if he can make time,” the woman said, somehow maneuvering them into a front room. “Wait here for a moment, I’ll come get you.”
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“We’re from the federal government,” Daniel protested. “Make sure he knows that we’re considering a full audit, and that his swift cooperation may have an impact on what we’re required to do.”
The woman’s face firmed, her smile fading, and Daniel felt a faint prickle on the back of his neck. Something about her put him on edge, and from the way that Richie and Sam stiffened up, he wasn’t the only one. Not that she was threatening them, but there was something definitely unfriendly about her look.
“I see,” she said shortly. “I will tell my husband that, too.” Which sounded like a threat somehow. Then she breezed out the door, leaving the three of them in a well-appointed room. Daniel scowled.
“I don’t like it,” he said aloud. “Already feels like they’re hiding something.”
“We already know they are,” Richie said. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have been sent here.” Sam just readjusted the holster of his gun. Daniel didn’t think it’d come to a shootout, but it was good to remind people where the real power stood.
He paced along the wood floor, noting that everything was wood — the walls, floor, ceiling, furniture, all of that. It was astoundingly rustic, but perhaps to be expected so far out into the country. Or maybe it was just a cult thing. The longer it took, the more annoyed he got, so by the time the woman returned he was in quite the mood.
“It’s about time,” he snapped, before she wordlessly led them deeper into the mansion.
The man in the small library matched the picture they had of Chester Fredrickson, maybe too well. It didn’t seem that he’d really aged in the past fifteen or twenty years. Though maybe it was just the beard.
“Chester Fredrickson?” Daniel asked, just be sure, as he reached for his credentials again.
“I’m Chester,” the man acknowledged.
“Agent Daniel Lowry, Internal Revenue,” he said. “We’re here because of inconsistencies with your reporting.”
“Shouldn’t you be talking with my accountant?” Chester asked, and Daniel smirked.
“It’s your finances, you’re the one responsible for it. Now, I need you to produce all your financial information for us. Until we’ve finished the audit, your accounts will be suspended and you won’t be allowed to leave the state.” He always enjoyed people’s reaction to that, but Chester’s expression barely flickered.
“I don’t believe I will be doing that. Honey, call our lawyer.”
“Are you refusing the lawful order of an agent of the federal government?” Daniel pressed, shoving his identification toward Chester. The man somehow wasn’t there though, he managed to slide around them to where his wife had a phone.
“You’ve got no warrant, I didn’t even have to let you in,” Chester said, then took the phone. “Apparently I shouldn’t have. Hey, Caspar? Yeah, it’s a bit of an emergency, there’s some people claiming to be feds here. No, no papers.”
“Now you listen to me,” Daniel said, stepping forward. “You have to comply or everything is going to stay shut down. You can’t just ignore me.” Chester turned toward him and something about him made Daniel step back, his hand dropping to the gun at his waist.
There was a sound behind him and Daniel spun around, finding two huge men flanking agents Richie and Daniel. It wasn’t clear whether his fellow agents had drawn their guns or not, but either way they had been disarmed, the pistols looking like toys in the hands of Chester’s bodyguards. He spluttered in protest.
“Assaulting federal agents? I’ll see you locked up for this! You’ve just made a big mistake.”
“Hang on Caspar, I need to get Julia.” He poked at the phone for a moment and then put it back to his ear. Daniel took a step forward but was stopped by one of the bodyguards, who had somehow managed to get between Chester and himself.
“Yes? Yes. Hello District Attorney Julia,” Chester said, emphasizing the title. “It’s just that I’ve got three people claiming to be federal agents who came onto my property, threatened me, and drew weapons. No, they’re uninjured.”
Daniel scowled. He didn’t actually know who the district attorney was, but they shouldn’t be interfering in a federal investigation. Clearly she was just on the take from Chester, but it’d be a bit of a block.
“Right, okay. See you soon.” Chester poked the phone again. “Caspar? Yeah, can you come by in about twenty minutes? Sure, that’ll work.” He finally turned to face them again. “The police are coming by in about twenty minutes, along with my lawyer. You can leave, or you can sit in the front room until they arrive.”
“You can’t do this to us! We’re agents of the federal government, no two-bit local police are going to touch us,” Daniel said, still in disbelief at the sheer gall of Chester’s people.
“I think you’re in for a big disappointment,” Chester said.
***
“I wish they weren’t smart enough for it, but frankly going through the mundane government is going to give us more problems than attacking directly,” Alpha Chester told Callum. “I have some of my own people locally, but there’s nothing I can do about Washington.”
“And you think we can,” Callum said, tapping the table in the war room and glancing at Lucy. She shrugged.
“I’ve got people threatening to bring the National Guard, or at least SWAT teams, down on me. Which I will not allow.” Chester’s voice sharpened. “I understand and agree with your condemnation of preying on mundanes, but I will defend myself against them.”
“No, that’s fair enough,” Callum agreed. “It doesn’t matter that they’re just tools, they’re still dangerous. So, hm. Get in, remove or alter records and orders, and find out who’s being bribed?”
“And who’s bribing them. It may not be appropriate to remove government functionaries, but supernaturals are fair game,” Chester said darkly.
“True,” Callum agreed. They knew, broadly, who was responsible. GAR, and the Archmage’s Council backing them. But Callum wasn’t really ready to try and assassinate several dozen Archmages. GAR might well be a potential target, now that he had a proper redoubt and the requisite infrastructure. Even if he still didn’t have a shield, he didn’t really need one when he never appeared personally.
Not that either thing would help with the gears that had already been set in motion. Aiming the enormous apparatus of the federal government at Chester was probably the hardest thing to combat, which was of course why it had been done. Callum didn’t like how easy it was to suborn the mechanisms of state control, but that was a completely different problem and not one that he could fix.
“What do you think, Lucy? Can you hack the government?” He raised his eyebrows at her and she laughed.
“Oh, goodness no. Not that way at least. But since you can get me into the physical server rooms I don’t need to. I just need to dredge up the right database searches. You get to have all the fun dealing with the physical documents.”
Callum grunted. The requests to harass Chester and the associated records were almost certainly backed up in hardcopy somewhere, spread out over however many facilities. He wasn’t overly worried about his actual capabilities, since with his drones and his spatial magic, there was practically no way any mundane agency could defend against him. But finding where the records were in the first place was a steep challenge.
“While we’re at it, maybe we can get rid of your records too,” Lucy suggested. Callum chuckled.
“Yeah, I’m still technically on the terrorist watch list, aren’t I? Would be nice, even if I’m not living in the US anymore.” He had never wanted to move out permanently, and would have enjoyed staying in Tanner or Winut, but he had to be realistic. There was no way that he could exist anywhere as a normal person.
“Alright, we’ll take care of it,” he told Chester. “Keep lawyered up though, no idea how long this will take.” Unfortunately, Chester didn’t have the same luxury Callum had, to withdraw to a private portal world. Not only did he need the mana from the Deep Wilds to survive, but his people were scattered everywhere. The compound was only a useful place for them to coordinate, not the actual source of Chester’s power.
“Oh, I certainly intend to,” Chester assured him. “Just don’t take too long.”
“We’ll get right on it,” Callum said. “I’ll let you know when we make progress.”
“You know, I always wanted to hack the IRS,” Lucy said, once they’d hung up. “I don’t know how you plan to deal with the people who already know, though.”
“Eh, it’s a bureaucracy. Remove all the files and they’ll end up just closing things down because everything requires documentation since nobody wants responsibility.” Callum sighed, knowing that was too naïve a position. “It’s not simple. If there’s someone with a real vendetta, who’s just abusing their power, that’s different from random people in a larger system. We’ll just have to take it as it comes.”
“We’ll start after lunch,” Lucy said, glancing out the front window where Alex was running around like a madman, lost in whatever world the two-year-old had conjured for himself. There was a wall to keep him from straying outside of the enchantment border where Callum had corrected space and gravity, but sometimes Callum doubted that would be enough. Kids had an amazing capacity to get where they shouldn’t.
“After lunch,” Callum agreed, rising and crossing to the door. It would be the work of days or weeks to get things done, so there wouldn’t be a problem if he spent some time with his son first.
***
Seeker Jarmin sniffed deeply, following the scent of mage. The trail of their magic workings was unique, and it lingered no matter how careful they were about it. With one step he moved from one clearing to another, hunting down a trail from the last known sighting of Archmage Taisen’s forces.
It was one thing to know that House Taisen existed and for the Archmage to show up from time to time, and it was another to know where they were. The mages in Faerie might be too limp-wristed and weak to attack Taisen directly, but the Courts had no such problem. Not only was the man a menace, he was an absolute bore. Installing a chokepoint between the Ice Plains and the valley the mages had been given had deprived so many people of so much entertainment.
It was an insult that couldn’t be forgiven.
He’d been stymying the expansion of Faerie onto Earth as well, but that was all in good fun. Moves in the Great Game were perfect entertainment. It was just that Taisen went about it in the dullest possible manner! Even The Ghost was more interesting, and he barely did anything.
Jarmin took another step, then jumped into the air, floating on the wake of the mage’s passage as he followed the flight spell they’d used. Anyone could follow that strong a trail, provided they stumbled on it to begin with. A few minutes of tedious tracking later, he found himself by a river where the entire landscape had been flattened. While Taisen’s people cleaned up after themselves, it was obvious some forward base had been there at some point.
He stretched out his hands, his fingers touching the remnant magic with virtuoso skill, playing through the interwoven spells that had been cast. His feet led him where they would, his eyes half-closed as he delved further and further back through time. In his mind’s eye he rewound the destruction of the forward base, people coming and going, a brief battle, then more useless milling about.
It was the formation of a portal that interested him, and he prowled around where the portal frame had once been. He could almost see the enchantments, that strange pastime of human mages; strange but frustratingly useful. It offended his sensibilities for something so bland and boring to be desirable.
He sniffed again, his nose sorting through all the various effects that had passed through that particular point, until he caught the scent of an actual portal. That was what he’d been waiting for, and he reached out to grab onto the magical connection, feeling the tenuous link shiver between his fingers. Jarmin had to be careful, but he was a Seeker for a reason. His finesse with such fragile, lingering echoes was second to none.
A moment later and he grasped the connection, letting it haul him through time and space to the other end, his entire form faint and ghostly as he traversed the mage-wrought corridor. He popped out into a large, brightly-lit room — momentarily empty and with no enchantment structure in evidence. That hardly bothered him, because it also meant there was nobody around he needed to avoid.
Jarmin spun a disguise for himself with a few snaps of his fingers, rendering himself the blandest, most forgettable human possible, and moved out of the room to find out where he’d ended up. Still Earth, of course, but the completely enclosed corridors with no windows made it hard to tell the location. He stopped in a hall that seemed to be on the outside of the place, waiting for a preoccupied mage to pass him by, and ghosted through the wall.
Solid ice met him, and he jerked back in surprise. It would take more than a poke outside to find his location. Yet, just the ice itself spoke to him, some of the stories whispered on the wind. Hyperborea, it said, which didn’t mean much but it did give him some suspicions. Instead of outward, he looked for a way upward, climbing stairs and skirting indoor gardens. With everything enclosed, he was as good as certain the facility was buried under the ice.
Once he’d gotten as high as he could without crossing through a door guarded by some grim looking guards, he ducked into a nearby empty room and shed his disguise. He went out through the wall again, up through the ice, ephemeral and unseen as he followed cracks and rifts toward the surface. It took a surprisingly long time, making the installation hundreds of feet below the surface, and when he finally emerged there was nothing but a waste of snow and ice.
At last all the pieces came together, and Jarmin laughed, voice echoing over the frozen fastness. He wasn’t familiar with all of Earth’s geography, but he could recognize Antarctica at least, and he could feel the terrible stories of the place in his bones. There was nothing of hope on the ice or under it, only terror, despair, and isolation.
Jarmin loved it. He knew some others who would love it, too, ones that would enjoy setting themselves upon an Archmage. Now that the base’s exact location had been found, it was only a matter of time before they came.
Once again he let himself be carried by the wind, blowing into the twelve-winded sky, to let himself be carried over the sea. The ocean waters glinted below, promising death to any who dared their depths. Even Jarmin.
At the same time it was exhilarating. Jarmin had tracked down all kinds of things for the Fae Prince over the centuries, from maidens to beasts to priceless treasures, and he had honed his abilities so well that little in outer Faerie challenged him. Earth, though, was just weak enough to make it a sport, without actually running the risk of him actually failing.
Failing wasn’t fun, after all.
Once he reported back to his Prince, he would be free to go after the real prize: hunting down the Ghost. The fact that the man had managed to break into the Courts undetected was intriguing, even if the Princess’ own power had ruined the subterfuge. Tracking her down would have been easy enough, but getting that close would be dangerous even to him. Inside her Court, he’d have to play by her rules, and only Oberon knew what rules someone who’d been living on Earth for most of her life would invent.