Page 37 of A Blade of Lies and Spirits

“I think we might want to focus on the immediate.” A chiding voice drifted from behind me, interrupting whatever the hell I planned to say.

I twisted around. Joan smiled. She’d been directly behind me, and I’d sensed nothing from her until she spoke. The diffused light caught in the colorless gem on her forehead.

Where was Robert?

“Shouldn’t we figure out how to not be shot? We should make decisions and go; bullets hurt.” Her voice, pitched low and sweet, matched her soft autumn skirt and shirt perfectly.

Why had the elf not taken her? Was she a stealth battlemage? He thought Robert was less scary than her?

Elves made no sense sometimes.

The drops of rain crept another inch closer to the ground.

“Joan, why did he leave you here?” asked Chance.

“Maybe he was jealous of my hair. I don’t have to dye it. Elves are like that.” She ran a hand through her hair, almost the same color as the white pebble path we stood on.

Even if it wasted a precious second, the expression on Chance’s face made me choke on a laugh. The light glittered within each raindrop, like a living diamond.

The house's back stone wall enclosed three quarters of the garden, broken by the smashed doors into the dining area to our left, where Chance's shield had been when we entered. Directly in front of me, the long portion of the wall was broken only by Dmitri's window and his entrance into the garden. Elise had thought out the décor of the mansion right down to the various shades of white for the lighting. I could see at least two light sources colored wrongly for his room’s lighting scheme.

The pale ceramic curve of an armor plate peeked from behind the door jamb of the exterior door to the dining area, that type of body armor proved effective against both laser and conventional weapons. Below the squat barrel of a laser rifle was visible. I didn’t like that kind of weapon within thirty feet of me. Further into the room, another figure stood behind partial cover, rifle braced on a sideboard. I could make out his shoulder flash. I winced.

A snarling wolf’s head, silver on red, with a curved knife below. Confirmation. William’s Wolves, a full tactical-team.

Damn. Flattery; it was the same show of force they’d use for a rogue battlemage.

“There will be two squads of eight, two mages attached to each, and a commanding officer. Initial tactic is to blind us with the laser weapons first. Standard issue can be calibrated to cook your cornea without needing to worry about inflicting more serious injuries. That way, they can clean up easily once they’ve acquired their target.” My words almost stumbled over each other.

The raindrops inched down, like honey running down the side of its jar.

“They’ll have conventional firepower and grenades, tear or maybe vomit. Robert had dampeners installed through the public areas in the house to keep ‘Mitri’s magic to manageable levels, so anything you cast in there will be powered down. The garden’s clear because that’s where ‘Mitri took his lessons. If you’re going to snipe magically, do it from here or outside.”

Walker regarded me. “Not my first rodeo, Alys,” he said mildly. “They’re down one mage. But you’re injured. Would be best if you faded back and hid and let him,” he waved a hand in Chance’s direction, “and me take care of it. Or better, why don’t we make a run for the road?”

“Standing Operating Procedures. Lookouts will be too far away for us to take out before real time starts again. I don’t hear alarms, so getting to the road’s no guarantee of safety either. We have to kill them or drive them off.”

I frowned. “We need to conjure rain and smoke—they’ll cut the lasers’ range. Or get their eye protection. Then they’ll fall back on conventional.”

“Because getting shot with a bullet is so much better.” Dry as dust, Chance’s voice.

Joan had closed her eyes. Her hands were extended to the side and cupped. “Mist as requested,” she said, her demeanor light and detached as a symbol in a dream.

As she spoke, thick fog rolled up from the ground around us, surrounding us in a silver dome. A slight breeze kicked smoke into the mix, streaking the grey with zebra patterns of black. Within seconds, I could barely see the outlines of the figures in the rooms as the fog swept closer to us. William would be leading. He was going to be wanting his pound of flesh before he killed me. I needed to signal my location to the opposition, make room for Walker and Chance to work. I didn’t know the extent of Joan’s magical ability with combat, but just the fog preventing targeting with lasers was a help. All the nights I’d walked, carrying Dmitri when he fussed, marched through the gardens while I struggled with rage against Robert and Elise, paced the halls while I screamed inside my head at fate: I could navigate this property blindfolded.

“I’m going for the gun room,” I said. “I won’t engage unless I have to.”

Chance’s expression shaded toward skeptical.

A raindrop hit one of the puddles on the stones Robert used for the garden paths.

“I don’t—” Walker started.

I cut him off. “Robert’s collection. This way I can help, even in this shape. Robert keeps his personal defense weapons in his study; I’ll go there once I take care of the weapons on this level.”

Chance nodded. “Sensible. What did you do with Alys?”

Funny.

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