Chapter 4 – Maneuvers

“Mister Wells wants to talk to you,” Ordermaster Minot said without any preamble, standing just outside the exclusion zone for the scriber.

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.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“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.