Chapter 7
Tanner checked his watch. Thirty minutes until sunset.
The wood-paneled parlour inside Tinsel’s castle-shaped bed and breakfast was an unusual location for a mission briefing, but it worked.
To casual observers, their gathering looked like a little holiday get-together.
Tinsel was well known for taking in stray visitors.
Deliberately leaked rumors had the rescue launching tomorrow.
The actual launch was midnight, and his insertion team was leaving in an hour.
It was a necessary deception. They had to assume Surasa’s agents included oracles.
Tanner intended to be halfway to the stratosphere before they figured it out.
He’d been communicating with Avelunne and the team all day, but this was the first time meeting the newcomers in person.
He leaned against the heavy oak mantelpiece, keeping his posture loose, though the prospect of action was a live charge in his veins. He couldn’t feel guilty about the warrior call if it was on Kotoyeesinay’s behalf.
He’d picked up Avelunne from the Transition Center and brought her here.
She’d smiled admiringly at the hoard of holiday decor in the room as she hung up her jacket on the coat rack, then sat in a brown velvet armchair near the window.
Her baseball-style jersey for an Ohio sports team called the Dragons was likely a playful gift from Tinsel.
Her cross-body bag shared the chair with her.
Though she hid it well, he saw hints of tension.
A quick glance at both windows, an assessment of the narrow closet door in the back, fingers tightening briefly on her bag when the wind rattled the pane.
Her body might be healed by shifter magic, but her captivity likely left lasting scars on her psyche.
Having magic or sharing a soul with a dragon didn’t protect against post-traumatic anxiety.
He regretted the circumstances that would send her back to her personal hell.
They both heard footsteps and turned to look at the door as it opened.
Zephyr, the team’s portal specialist, bounced in.
With her riot of multi-colored curls and a grin at Avelunne’s shirt, the wind fairy looked young enough to be asking for a hall pass rather than holding the impressive title of Magister.
She sat on the plush velvet settee, dropped her duffel bag onto the highly patterned carpet, then made herself comfortable.
“I’m Zephyr. I hope you’re Tanner and Avelunne, or I’m crashing the wrong party. ”
Before he could reply, the other two team members arrived.
Rumnaan Odair seemed like a very ordinary and nondescript human, but Tanner knew otherwise.
The fairy-human hybrid, a friend of Pendragor’s, was a master thief and demesne unweaver.
More importantly, he specialized in liberating captives from prisons, both mundane and magical.
He sat in a chair with its back against the wall.
Close on his heels was Keteng Bo Ti Wali, a shifter agent for the Shifter Tribunal.
She looked like a world-class long-distance runner, all lean muscle and tightly braided hair, with the focus and gliding grace of a cheetah.
However, she was actually a rare Ice Age shifter, and the only mammoth shifter he’d ever heard of.
Rayne Chekal, an agent for the Shifter Tribunal, had vouched for her, citing her abnormal strength and a hatred for slavers. She sat on the settee next to Zephyr.
Tanner introduced himself and Avelunne, then let the others introduce themselves.
“As soon as—”
He was interrupted by the appearance of Tinsel. She effortlessly carried a huge tray of tiny sandwiches and two ornate silver-and-gold teapots and porcelain cups, which she set on the skillfully carved sideboard.
“Help yourselves. I’ll set out any leftovers for the tourists.” She pulled a brocaded wingback chair out from the corner and sat.
Tanner nodded his thanks. “Alright, let’s get started. You already know our objective. The plan is simple. Avelunne and I will open the door; you three will get us in and the captives out.”
He looked directly at Zephyr. “Once we breach the shield and open the portal, I’ll use the locator charm so you can create a portal you control.
Tinsel is your support. You both agree this is the best way around the teleportation blocks that are built into the demesne’s walls.
” He turned to Rumnaan and Keteng. “Once you go through Zephyr’s portal, you’ll secure the immediate area, then use Avelunne’s map to get to the holding pen.
Avelunne will fly back to Kotoyeesinay. I’ll guard the portals while you get the prisoners out via Zephyr’s portal. ”
“Easy peasy.” Zephyr’s frown belied her casual tone. “I still don’t get why they won’t have fixed the obviously vulnerable portal.”
“Arrogance and convenience,” said Tanner.
“From what Avelunne and her fellow captives learned, the demesne hasn’t been attacked in a millennium.
The defenses are self-sustaining but unattended auto-magic.
The portal we’ll be targeting is their smallest, intended for incoming supplies, rather than sending out armies of super-soldiers to a delusional dictator. ”
Avelunne cleared her throat. “If Tippizoars change the portal security again, they’d have to justify it to Surasa when she arrives.
Better to hide the escape and bury it in the records as ‘stock loss.’ I saw them do it for another prisoner who escaped with the help of two shifters who snuck in with a shipment. ”
“What will be opposing us?” Keteng asked. Her accent suggested one of the African languages.
“Keepers and servants, to start. They’re all bio-magically created.
” Avelunne opened her bag and pulled out her sketchbook.
“I made sketches so you’ll know what they look like.
The keepers are smarter, but they’re weaker and enthralled to obey Surasa, Tippizoars, and the laboratory managers in all things.
Keepers direct the servants, which could be one of several creatures.
” She flipped to a page, then turned it around and held it up to show the team.
“That’s a hellfrog.” Rumnaan pointed to the sketch on the lower right. “They’re almost impossible to kill.”
“Yes, though they are rarely in the shifter section. I gather they are difficult to raise and gain control of. The others have no official names.” She pointed to a creature that looked to Tanner like a zombie jackal with spikes.
“We called these necros. These are the most common, about knee high. Fast, with a poisonous bite. They will eat anything alive or dead. Beheading kills one, but there are always more. They work in packs to herd captives. They obey the keepers, but will run away from Tippizoars, who eat them like snacks.”
Tinsel leaned forward. “The one at the center top looks like a deformed undine with no mouth and tentacles instead of fingers.”
Avelunne nodded. “Keepers. They roam the tunnels freely to follow instructions from Tippizoars on feeding captives, fixing problems, handling transfers between pens, and so forth. At will, Tippizoars can see and hear through a keeper’s senses, so they rarely come to the tunnels themselves.
The keepers can produce audible speech, though we don’t know how.
They smell like sulfur and they melt flesh, dead or alive, with their tentacles for food, though necro flesh seems to make them ill.
Lab managers look sort of like them, but they never leave the laboratory hub.
They supervise other servants who are more useful for work requiring dexterity.
Tippizoars communicate with keepers and lab managers via telepathic charms embedded in their breastbones.
” She turned to the next page in her book.
“Tippizoars. They call themselves a ‘fugor.’”
Tanner hoped never to meet the creature. Seeing it on the page was bad enough. A two-headed, armor-plated beast that looked like a mashup of a tyrannosaur, a cockroach, and a diseased vulture. The two tails reminded him of a scorpion.
“They are powerful and smart. They say they’ve lasted centuries longer than previous facility managers, and we believe it. They lie to get out of trouble, but they do not boast.”
“You keep saying ‘they’,” said Keteng.
Avelunne nodded. “The heads have different skills. One speaks better, one has better vision. They seem to have different minds, like conjoined twins. They argue with each other sometimes. They are quick to anger and only fear Surasa and her magic.” She swallowed.
“They are voracious. Everything in the demesne is always hungry.”