Jules Page 4

As I stepped inside, I felt a tingle go up my leg. Magic barriers.

  Each of the floor tiles had been made of a different metal, stone, or gem. They were done so well that even I could feel the magic dampeners coming from the runes etched into them.

  Simon sat at his desk, reviewing something on a screen inset into the metal. He nodded and scratched down a response on a sheet of yellowed parchment. A few strands of his coarse, black hair hung into his narrowed black eyes, the strands being completely ignored as he finished writing with a note of finality.

  With a satisfied nod he looked up at me expectantly and folded his hands, waiting.

  "Simon." I bowed as I addressed him formally. For certain individuals, a few manners can go a long way. Even for me. "Thank you for letting me in."

  "You came aboard yourself," he responded. A few syllables were clipped as he spoke, his Chinese accent coming through. "I do not believe I could have stopped you if I had wanted to."

  "Regardless," I responded, coming up from my bow, "thank you."

  "I believe you have something important to discuss," he said, ignoring my display of civility and manners.

  "You figured correctly," I responded. "It's about Afanasiy."

  "The Traitor," he corrected me. "We do not refer to him by name here. It is similar to calling out the devil. Speak his name and he will find you."

  "Regardless of what you call him, my request centers around him and his timely death."

  "If it involves going back to the surface, then we have nothing to discuss. I have been keeping an eye on several matters of interest to our Skulk. When the Traitor became more active, more vocal, we took to the sky. I cannot allow my family to be killed because of the actions of an insane individual. I will not take them back down while he still roams."

  With that statement, he dismissed me by looking down and continuing to scratch down his notes.

  It annoyed me, but I couldn't act on my annoyance. Not yet. "What if I told you that I could get the Wolves and the Hyenas to join you in the war and help you take down the Traitor?"

  "There is no war," he stated, not looking up. "The Hyenas are only interested in their own survival. The Wolves have disbanded. With such a shambles of an army, no fight against the Traitor could be classified as a 'war'."

  Placing my hands gently on the edge of the desk, I leaned forward. "I'm going to start one. The Wolf alpha's mate is back."

  The scratching stopped. He looked up at me. One eyebrow went up.

  Ah, there it was. Interest.

  "I can contact the Hyenas on my own," I continued. "Survival may be their primary interest, but I have it on good authority that the alpha has distaste for the way that the Traitor has composed himself lately. And I have direct contact with the Wolf alpha. I can convince her to rejoin to the packs into the greatness they once were. All that will leave is you, my dear."

  He leaned back in his chair, looking me up and down. Tilting his head, Simon asked, "And what is in it for you? Why start a war between the clans, wayward Fox?"

  "The Traitor took me against my will and targeted my family," I responded. "I owe him one."

  He judged my answer against my body language. Recalled my past history.

  "If I said yes, assuming that you are not being the liar you are well known to be, what would be our advantage? Why shouldn't we simply stay above and watch you fight each other?"

  "I know you feel responsible for the actions of the Traitor," I said. "He may be an insane rogue, but I know how Foxes operate. I used to be one, remember? A Fox must be responsible for all his family, even the crazy ones. You help, you get to take out the trash."

  I moved my hips far enough to lean one of them on the desk. "You can do what you wish to him and no one will care. Burn him. Cut his head off. Pour melted silver over his body. Doesn't matter to me, and once I share what he's done to the Wolves and Hyenas he captured, I don't think the clans will care either."

  "What about the other factions?" he asked. "What will you do if the Pirates or the Death Alchemists get involved?"

  I shrugged. "I can't control the other factions," I admitted. "But I'm sure I can contact the people I need to in order to make sure they won't get in the way."

  "A war will draw the Keepers," he responded firmly. "There is no getting around this. Make sure they will not be a problem. Then we will negotiate."

  I smiled and pushed gently off the desk. Bowing deeply, I said, "Thank you for your consideration."

  Chapter Four

  The Smithy

  I transported back to Earth and felt a bit dizzy as my white energy dissipated.

  You've been using our magic too much, said my mother. You need to rest.

  "I don't need rest, Mother," I responded. "I need to delegate."

  I slashed a circle at my feet using our magic and sat in the center, giving a little push of my personal energy to make a cold, hard barrier for myself. I was at Jake's smithy once again, resting just behind the building. While I trusted the barriers around his smithy to keep me safe, an extra layer of protection couldn't hurt while I went dreamwalking.

  My first ever dreamwalk was a frightening one, and one I refused to forget—Uncle Glidon's dreams. The experience gave me nightmares for a year straight. I made sure that every time I dreamwalked, I did so carefully. The first and foremost step was to have a target instead of wandering from dream to dream; the second was to focus on your target and only your target.

  Tonight, my target was Shawn, the young Fox that came up with a technique to measure magic.

  Once I had come out of my cult-coma, I sought to wake up as many Foxes as I could. Shawn was one of the only ones that followed me out of the lair of the beast and actually thanked me for it. He was also one of the only free ones Afanasiy hadn't managed to kill yet.

  I felt the sensation of my mind lifting from my body, the magic taking hold and launching my dream. I quickly soared to the sky and through the stars, searching for Shawn's consciousness. He was innocent enough in nature, but helpful enough in skill to warrant me looking for him.

  I floated far from the realm of this reality, into the ethereal Dreamworld. Dreams looked funny from here. It was similar to flying up in an airplane and looking down on the lights of cities. Small specks of yellow light gleamed out at me from the darkness of thought, each giving away a name and location to me. I was immersed in the land of thought, comprehending all the information at once.

  I thought myself straight to Shawn's dreams and plunged downward, crossing the bright yellow barrier and entering his dream.

  A lone Fox bounded across a grassy meadow. He looked up and saw me, large ears pitching forward. He shifted into a biped, and I saw familiar brown, unruly hair flying away from a freckled, youthful face and his short body covered in a baggy cloak and thin cotton shirt. He ran towards me, happily calling out, "Jules!"

  "So you need me to go back," he said slowly. "Dad's lab? That's it?"

  I nodded.

  He looked up at the imaginary moon, shining its silver light through the darkness. After I had made my request, the previously shining sky had faded until only a point or two of light remained, with the moon in the center shining down on us light a soft spotlight. "What do you think is there?"

  "I'm trusting you to find out," I answered. "I need to know if there's any evidence of your father's work left."

  "To go back..." He closed his eyes, fractured images and distorted sounds flashed around us. He was remembering.

  There wasn't much there to remember; a flash of a rusty-red coat. Haunted, echoing laughter cut off by the sharp sound of a scream. Shawn twitched as blood splashed at our feet, the very sky seeming to turn red. He grimaced as the sky grew dark and a rusted metallic smell permeated our surroundings. He flinched and the sky went completely black, drowning us in darkness. Shawn's harsh breath was the only thing I could hear for a moment or two before the moon began to glow again, filling the dreamed up glade with silver
light once again.

  Shawn stood stock-still, focusing on his breathing. I knew what I was asking him to do. He knew what I was asking him to do. I was asking him to go back to a place where he witnessed the slaughter of a whole team through the slats of a hiding spot designed to keep out the Hyena marwolaeths. It worked. Shawn was the only survivor of their slaughter.

  He may have only been a kid at the time. He may have never looked back after Afanasiy took him out of that underground lab. But if anyone could find his way back to that kind of place, it would be the child who learned how to survive there. Children always remember.

  He opened his eyes again. "I'll do it," he said, swallowing. "But what about Afanasiy? He hasn't found me yet, but... If I start moving around now... If I draw attention to myself…"

  I thought hard about it, several of the thoughts forming into plans that took shape around us. The thoughts danced around us in a flash of motion, one in particular standing out. I brought it forward, clearing the other thoughts away, and smiled.

  "Here," I said, "this should do, Foxy. Take your time in finding the lab. Be quick and careful, and only move during the day. Once you're there, pick a hiding spot close by and wait. Make sure you're safe, and then dream of me to let me know you're there. I'll hear it and meet you at the lab."

  He nodded and I dismissing the plan, watching the thoughts fold into small stars in the night sky. A few more bright points of Shawn's own making were starting to poke through the sky, telling me that Shawn was growing more comfortable as we talked it out.

  "Will you help me find my father's lab?" he asked, big, brown eyes nearly pleading with me.

  "Oh, darling," I said softly. "I wish that I could. I have other appointments to keep once I'm done here."

  He seemed almost defeated, his child-like face lowering. He looked up at me again, puppy-dog expression down to a T as he pouted. "I'll do it. But promise me one thing."

  I laughed and tipped his chin up with a finger. "What?"

  "If I'm not there ... if I haven't contacted you in too long ... if I get caught by Afanasiy and ... and..." He gulped. "Will you please come find me? If I'm under his control again...Will you kill me?"

  I nodded, drawing my fingers in an "X" over my heart. "Promise."

  Waking up from our shared dream was gentle, as it always was when the separation was mutual. I sighed, relaxing my body for a moment or two. It was a moment or two too long for my taste, but Mother was hovering just outside the circle with a concerned look across her black eyes. She wanted me to rest, I could feel it. I rested long enough to appease her without losing time.

  With a wave of my hand, I dismissed the energy around me, dispersing it into the air. A small circle was left burned into the grass beneath me.

  Two contacts down. The Hyenas were next.

  Standing, I transported myself back to My Fair Lady.

  Chapter Five

  My Fair Lady

  When I entered the blue-lighted nightclub, Sting was at the piano again. He was thundering out jazz compositions with the energy of a hyper pygmy goat.

  There was a twin-headed Doppobocca at the microphone, scatting like a pro. These squatty, yellow aliens landed somewhere in Italy, and apparently enjoyed the culture so much they decided to stop by Earth on a regular basis. Doppobocca was not their species name, just what the fairies from Italy decided to call them. It was an Earthling nickname, as far as they were concerned, and the Doppobocca didn't seem to mind in the least.

  The alien's two heads were currently scatting something I had never heard before and probably would never hear outside of Sting's nightclub. The heads scatted back and forth, while the single, thick body moved and danced to the beat.

  I made my way to the bar, ordered some Pixie wine, and watched the crowd. I was watching to see if my Hyena contact would show up. She liked to frequent My Fair Lady as much as I did, if not more because she had more time. Tonight should have been one of her nights, if I remembered correctly.

  "Quite a turnout tonight, isn't it?" someone said behind me, loudly.

  I glanced over my shoulder and took in intense brown eyes broken up by a jovial smile on a narrow face. Some of his blond hair was matted in the front, bobbing with every habitual flick of his head in an attempt to get it out of his eyes.

  I shrugged slowly with a single shoulder. Gave him a teasing smile as I turned back to the crowd. "Aren't you in the wrong place, Keeper?"

  His expression fell as he looked down at his outfit; it was a simple, brown vest held open over a grey shirt with sloppy-looking carpenter jeans. I pointed at the back of his hand, which bore a tattoo in the shape of the Keepers' insignia: lady justice. Scales in one hand, sword in the other, blindfolded.

  It was a human insignia that the Keepers adopted for themselves, in an attempt to maintain the idea that justice is blind. In their case, justice was not only blind, but mute, deaf, and dumb as well.

  He lifted his hand to stare at it and frowned, as if he had forgotten it was there. After a moment, he shrugged it off and smiled. "I'm not on the clock," he responded jovially. "I can be anywhere I want. And talk to whoever I want."

  "Got it," I said. "So get back to your lonely drink."

  He held up a long glass filled with tree sap, alcohol, a tap of blood and a hint of cherry. It was called a Maiden's Bluff. I hated the taste of it, but it was a popular favorite.

  "It's never lonely when you're drinking next to a be-a-utiful woman," he said, toasting me before taking a long drink.

  As he threw his head back, his hair shifted just enough for me to see an angle to his ears. He wasn't human.

  Usually Keepers were comprised of Terran mages and knights. Nothing else.

  I didn't recognize the shape of the ear. Before I could get a good look at it, his hair shuffled back and blocked my view, his head coming forward as he finished his drink. He flashed me a wide grin and exposed canines that were longer and sharper than an average human's.

  Something began beeping on his hip and he glanced down. An old beeper sat clipped to his belt, screen lit up with a red glow. He frowned as he checked it. "Oops," he said, "speak of the devil."

  He saluted me, taking another drink. "May I know the name of such a beautiful witch," he asked, "or will you let your lovely face curse me forever?" When I stared at him for an answer, he grinned again and said, "I'll tell you mine."

  I let out a soft, low laugh and raised my wine glass to him. "Jules."

  He bowed low, saying, "And my name is Hansel, great lady."

  Dropping a handful of coins on the counter, he plucked a pike that leaned against said counter, handling it like it was another arm. He saluted me with his free hand and said, "Pleased to meet you."

  He made his way to the door as someone else approached me from the other side.

  "Well, you two certainly seemed chummy. I never picked you to make nice with the Keepers."

  "I wasn't 'making nice', Ruby," I responded, taking a sip of my wine and turning to the new voice. "I wasn't in the mood to kill him is all."

  Ruby stood almost as tall as me, but she had more meat on her bones. Her hair was a deep fire-red, and her green eyes complemented her light-skinned complexion.

  Her half-jacket fluttered around her ribs, her skin-tight shirt only an inch or two longer. As she shifted her hips against the counter, the belt that lined her low-cut jeans jingled, the beads at the end swinging with the motion.

  Despite her slutty appearance, the armor wrapped around her shins and feet made most stay far enough away. I'm sure the various red and blue stains that weren't bothered to be cleaned off helped scare others away.

  She twisted her faerie-elf features with a smirk. "I never picked you to need a mood, then," she responded with a laugh. She leaned on the counter and ordered a pure ale before turning back to me. Her Cheshire cat grin was wide on her pointed face, making her smiles look even more threatening.

  Well, she was a Hyena. Hyena sm
iles were frightening no matter what face they happened to be on.

  "Weren't you just here, Julia?" she asked. "Like a day or two ago? Don't you have other places to be?"

  "First of all, darling, a day or two doesn't count as 'just' being somewhere. Secondly, you weren't here last time. If you were, I wouldn't have had to come back."

  The Doppobocca had finished scatting. Sting was alone now, a soulful blues rift gently reaching out into the crowd. The reptilian-looking barkeep dropped an ale down next to Ruby, who swiped it up and chugged with all the grace of a sailor.

  "I'm going to start a war," I said quietly, counting on her excellent hearing. "And I need the Hyenas to play nice."

  "There's no guarantee of that," she said into her drink, her eyes sharply watching the crowd. "You know the Clan doesn't do war."

  "What if I have proof that a member of your Clan was tortured and ultimately killed?" I glanced up to see if she was watching me. She was.

  She huffed and looked away. "They might listen. They might not. Hyenas are concerned about survival. Nothing else matters. If one of our members was stupid enough to be caught and killed … Well, they were just that stupid."

  "It's Afanasiy," I said. "I need him dead."

  "I figured as much," she said with a bored sigh. "You never got over what he did to you."

  I shot her a glare. "Can you convince the Hyenas or not?"

  She swirled alcoholic nectar around in her glass, thinking. "Maybe. What else would be involved?"

  "Fighting," I answered. "Lots and lots of fighting."

  "Fighting means blood. Blood means others will be attracted, for one reason or another."

  "The more factions that want his head, the better. As far as the Keepers, I'll handle them. Simon told me he'd help as long as I dealt with the lawmen, so I'm going to deal with them. I've got a way to reunite the Packs under one leader, and their alpha already hates Afanasiy." A cruel laugh slipped from my lips. "By the time I'm done, everyone will want a piece of that bastard."

  She shrugged and picked up her mug. After a long drink, Ruby slammed her mug down with a wild, threatening grin. "Hyenas are only interested in survival. We don't work on deals and supposition. Get your shit together and come back when you're ready."