Chapter 6 – Planning

“What do you mean you won’t provide them?” Harper Janry goggled at Lorenzo Rossi of the Guild of Enchanting. It was true that with the Night Lands portal severed, the cost for a lot of enchantments had started to rise, but the supply issues hadn’t seemed too bad. At least, not so far. “Are the stockpiles really in that bad a shape?”

“No, that is not the problem,” Rossi said, hands clasped over his belly as he regarded Harper. “In fact, we have sourced some new enchanting material. Rather, the Guild of Enchanting shares its worries with the dragonblooded and certain members of the supernatural community about the dangers of upending the status quo on Earth.”

Harper opened his mouth, then shut it before arguing. Archmage Janry hadn’t put him in the role of envoy because he spoke before he thought. The Guild of Enchanting was one of the most powerful organizations among mages, perhaps even more powerful than GAR. Especially after GAR had been crippled by the most militant and Earth-based branches pulling out of it.

If the Guild of Enchanting was concerned about something, that was a political stance and it was something they would have made clear. Clearly someone, somewhere, hadn’t passed along the appropriate messages, because Rossi wouldn’t blindside him. The head of the Guild of Enchanting was not dumb, and he wouldn’t just spring an embargo on him – and who knew how many other Houses – without some form of notice. That was a failure that Harper could address when he got home.

“It seems a notable change of policy for the Guild of Enchanting to take sides in a political disagreement,” he said instead. Not that the Guild of Enchanting was apolitical, but theirs was a relatively mercenary approach. They cared less about the topics that archmages struggled with and more about what was best for the craft.

“The dealings of the Guild of Enchanting are generally confidential,” Rossi said, clearly picking his words with care. “But certain clients have made a very strong argument that the actions of the Archmage’s Council and the Seven Lesser Courts are not in the interests of the supernatural community.”

Harper didn’t need to be brilliant to read between those lines. The American Alliance and the rogue Houses had somehow gotten the Guild of Enchanting on their side. It was not a small thing — while corite-based enchantments in Faerie would last forever, not every enchantment was based in corite and any new enchantment of any complexity came from the Guild. While they had some stockpiles of raw material, they didn’t have the expertise to create the high-quality work most mages expected. Expanding onto Earth would require cannibalizing existing wards or glamours, and most of those were deeply embedded into House security.

“I see,” he said, biting off a considerably different set of words. “I must admit I am somewhat surprised that the Guild of Enchanting is turning down such a large contract. There are entire estates that need to be built and furnished.”

“There are some considerations more important than money,” Rossi said, so piously that Harper almost laughed. The man wasn’t fooling anyone.

“You do realize how many people are going to be unhappy,” Harper pointed out instead. “Essentially all the Houses in Faerie are united in the determination to make Earth safe again. To prevent another disaster like the debacle with the Night Lands.”

“There is some risk,” Rossi agreed. “But the Guild has considered the merits of the arguments and cannot support widespread changes in the policy toward Earth.”

Harper suppressed a sigh. There had to be something really big going on if the Guild of Enchanting was betting against the largest and oldest Houses in existence. Admittedly, the Houses in question weren’t the most familiar with direct combat, but it would hardly come down to a war. There were enough ways to dominate mundanes without resorting to brute force.

In a sense the refusal to supply the enchantments House Janry needed was a secondary matter. It would be painful, but the House’s coffers were deep and they had enough infrastructure that they could repurpose some of it, especially if they could get the other Houses to pitch in. The Guild of Enchantment’s opposition as an opinion on who would prevail was far more damaging.

“I suppose you aren’t going to budge on this issue,” Harper finally said.

“I’m afraid not. The Guild of Enchanting appreciates House Janry’s continued patronage, and after the current crisis I fully expect things to return to normal. But for the moment we have to be more circumspect with the tools we provide.”

“Well, then, thank you for your time.” Harper rose and offered Rossi a bow. “I’ll speak with Archmage Janry and see what we can do.” Not that the archmage was going to reverse course, but Harper needed to be polite.

“The Guild of Enchanting is always glad to talk,” Rossi said with a smile. “This too shall pass.”

Harper smiled, nodded and took his leave. The consequences of the Guild of Enchanting taking a side needed to be dealt with as soon as possible. Some of the weaker-willed Houses, or rather archmages, might well see it as a reason to bow out of a conflict that they were only half-heartedly committed to in the first place.

***

Rossi watched Harper depart through the teleportation system, and the smile slipped from his face. He had hoped they would have more time before the Houses started their moves, because the Guild wasn’t quite ready to commit. The portal world that Wells had provided them was still being developed, and despite his prodding Wells hadn’t quite been ready to commit to providing additional ones. Sadly, events had forced his hand, and now they would have to accelerate their work.

He left the meeting room and headed deeper into the Guild’s central office. His mage mark verified him and let him pass the heavy security around the rooms in the middle. The secure vaults were where the most intricate enchanting records kept, and for the moment where the connections to the new portal world were located. There were three in all, the portal frames fueled by the mana flow from the portal world itself.

The transportation rooms were heavily shielded to prevent any mana leakage in either direction. They were secret for the moment, and even when only opened temporarily the strange mana could leak out into Faerie, something the locals would surely notice. Even mages would notice the turbulence if they left it open too long.

He channeled vis through the portal frame, the embedded storage crystal augmenting his efforts to open the portal, and stepped through into a room that looked almost identical to the one he’d left. Pale blue stone walls, flat and unadorned, with a single exit. He nodded to the guard at the post just inside the door, and continued through a hall into a large production shop. One that wasn’t in full use, not just yet.

“Guildmaster,” Ordermaster Minot said distractedly as he examined one of the scribers. “It’s almost there, but not quite perfect. Wells means well—” Minot stopped and grimaced at his own wording. “It’s just not as accurate as we need. The spatial differences are just enough that anything we make here would be less efficient.”

“Then we need Duvall,” Rossi said.

“Good luck,” Minot said, straightening from the scriber. “I don’t think she’s going to come out of her estate until this is all over. She’s done it before.”

“Then I’ll simply go to her,” Rossi said. “Have one of the portal frames packed up. Even if she’s not a fan of the person who opened access to this new world, she should see the value in having ever more work demand.” He snorted. “It’s not like GAR is using her apprentices for porters anymore.”

“I believe she still likes the starberry tea,” Minot said. “I’ll have someone dig a cannister out of the vaults.”

“Yes, excellent,” Rossi agreed. Part of him winced at parting with the tea, since it could only be made once a century when starberries bloomed, and it was frankly scarcer than the wine made with the berries themselves. But it would be worth it to get the spatial archmage on their side again.

***

Seeker Jarmin was equal parts frustrated and amazed. The Ghost lived up to his name, and Jarmin was having great difficulty catching a scent. He’d visited each of the locations The Ghost had been present and, despite his skill and prowess, Jarmin couldn’t locate anything belonging to the man. There wasn’t even a conspicuous absence to follow, just occasional muddled patches that might have been a trail, if they actually led anywhere. Which they didn’t.

After visiting the sites of various actions, some joint activities with House Taisen and some solo operations, he knew he’d have to take a different approach. Whatever The Ghost did, however he covered his tracks, it was proof against Jarmin’s abilities. But The Ghost was also Callum Wells, and Wells might be easier to find — especially through his son, who shared his blood.

Not that it was easy, by any means. A dragonblooded controlled Wells’ original haunt, and the shifters had obscured his subsequent addresses, but after enough snooping around he found that Wells still maintained links throughout the world – some sort of personal portal network – though nobody seemed particularly clear on how it worked.

It was almost by chance that he found it, but he finally picked up Wells’ actual scent from Alpha Chester’s compound. They had nearly as much warding up as Taisen’s base, but remaining ethereal was sufficient to avoid notice. He didn’t dare prowl around in even a changed form since, unlike humans, shifters could spot a fraud instantly. But it was not hard to separate out the few human traces, especially the exuberant residue of a mortal child.

He almost thought that he had Wells then and there, but the only trail in or out was an enchanted piece of metal that had such heavy distortion around it that any trail it may have led him on had been washed away. But even if that lead was dry, there was the rest of the probable network, so he began hunting.

Jarmin let the winds take him as they would, following intuition more than anything as he covered the miles, flitting hither and yon. It felt far easier than trying to track down The Ghost. Callum Wells was a real person, someone the world knew, while The Ghost was hidden and shielded and protected.

It was the work of days, following the faintest hints here and there, but eventually Jarmin ran across a whiff of Wells’ magic, weirdly isolated several dozen feet in the air. Tracking from there, he traced a convoluted route until he found a tiny device parked inside a hollow log. It was part mundane technology, but within it was also a piece of enchantment; an active spatial connection.

He cackled silently, making sure not to manifest by accident. It was no secret The Ghost had keen senses, not unlike those of a Fae Prince. Jarmin suspected that perhaps he had gotten that from the Princess, though The Ghost’s child was undeniably merely human. It seemed strange for the human mistress to have a child before the Princess, but Blackblood was already strange for attempting to deny or hide her heritage. One more oddity was hardly important.

Clearly The Ghost – or rather, Wells, as this was not part of The Ghost’s operation – had never expected his little device to be found. It was well-hidden, with barely any trace save for a minor flow of mana — a flow out through the portal, which was unusual considering the already low mana levels on Earth. Such a minor deviation would be barely noticeable, except to someone like Jarmin.

He reached out to touch the connection, letting himself flow along it. He could almost feel the secrecy, the exclusionary nature of the tiny connection. Something nearly forbidden, which was the sweetest of fruits. His form flitted out through the other end, and all his glee turned to ash as all the mana suddenly vanished. His ethereal form was stripped from him and he choked on nothing at all in a black-skied, hellish desert that stretched away in every direction.

***

“Holy shit.” Callum reflexively stumbled backward, nearly slipping and falling in the shower. He was completely blindsided by fae magic squirting through one of his nexus connections and turning into some short, suited fae. A fae that promptly started flailing and choking in the airless, mana-deprived surroundings of the moon.

“Mm?” Lucy’s vague sound of inquiry came from the bedroom, but he didn’t have time to answer. He teleported out to the cache, still dripping, and pulled a shotgun and fae-bane ammunition to himself. It wasn’t like there was room in the shower to load and fire.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The fae wasn’t immediately dying, either; vis billowed out to surround him and stave off the harsh environment. While it kept evaporating away into the vacuum, the fae had enough power to make headway, and who knew what would happen then. Callum pushed a bit of his own vis out onto the moon and formed a portal between the shotgun and behind the fae’s head and fired. A glittering plume of atmosphere spread out from where the fae had been, while in Callum’s perceptions the vis acted in a similar way, dissipating into the vacuum.

He shivered, the concrete of the barn cache cold under his feet, water and shampoo dripping onto the floor from his skin. He found himself somewhat disconcerted by the fact that he’d dealt with the entire thing while naked and lathered up, but his enemies were not polite enough to wait until he was ready. Callum dropped the gun on a worktable, promising himself he’d clean it up later, and teleported back into the shower. The hot water helped his muscles unclench too, his body only realizing the terrifying nature of the intrusion after it was over and done with.

“What’s up?” Lucy called, somewhat more clearly, standing at the door of the bathroom.

“Fae incident,” Callum replied through the shower curtain. “Give me a couple minutes and I’ll fill you in.”

“Okay,” Lucy said, and Callum wasn’t sure she even realized he’d teleported away. He’d only been gone a few seconds at most, thought it had seemed longer at the time. It seemed more than passing strange to just continue on as if nothing had happened when he’d just fended off a home invader, but there was nothing else he could do. Not immediately, anyway.

Half an hour later, he was properly showered and dressed and there hadn’t been any other intrusions to the nexus. Once he was certain the fae was truly dead he had teleported the body back to Earth, mostly so it didn’t lose all its magic. He wasn’t sure if Felicia’s ability would work without some kind of magical continuity.

“I guess the moon nexus did work though,” Lucy said. “I mean, if he could survive on the moon’s surface maybe this was kind of a big deal type fae? I don’t think most of them can do that.”

“If nothing else, he had some kind of teleport-type powers,” Callum said. “At the very least, he came through the portal as just a big bunch of magic, or something. The anchor drones are intact so he just passed right through them.” He sighed and leaned back in the chair, watching Alex happily eating breakfast. “I’m not happy someone found one of my drones but it turned out as well as I could have expected.”

“Oh, you’re not going to be taking more precautions?” Lucy teased.

“All I can do is shut down the portals when I’m not using them, but that means blinding myself.” Callum grimaced. “I thought that cloak was supposed to hide me, but then again, I can’t wear it all the time, especially not in the shower.”

“Fae magic is tricky,” Lucy replied.

“Bacon!” Alex said, waving a piece of it before cramming it into his mouth.