7

Looking back on that ride, Cain would realize that he survived by Sheer Blind Luck. Galloping at breakneck speed, in the rain, in the dark, with no lantern or light of any type, through forest trails and the fields of the Pappay, he should not have made it.

Even when the rains let up just before dawn, when he finally reached the pass leading down into the valley where Central City was situated, he still had a horse close to foundering, slick half-cobblestone roads, and his own exhaustion.

Yet somehow, whatever Luck he did have held up. When he finally reached the gates of the City, he was stopped by a company of Royal Army soldiers. The City was locked down tight.

"Hold it, pal!" The lead soldier held up a commanding hand. "State your business in the City."

"Wyatt Cain, Tin Man," Cain identified himself. He ground his teeth, and said, "It's already happened, hasn't it? Damn it!" He wheeled his horse, glaring up at the skyscrapers of the city.

"How do you know?" demanded the soldier, a captain.

Another soldier interrupted. "Cain. That's the Colonel's name."

The captain peered up at Cain. "You're Jeb Cain's old man?"

"Jeb is my son, yes."

"Let 'im pass! Move it, there, you lazy sacks of shit! Make way!" The captain waved Cain through the barricades.

Kicking his poor mount into a struggling canter, Cain steered the animal through the streets of Central City. Horses were rare within the City, and he hated to think of the picture he made, riding down the center of the streets. Damned foolish, no doubt, but he didn't have time for niceties.

At the Royal Palace, he let the horse bash right through the line of guards. Shouts and running feet filled the air as soldiers soon surrounded him. He ignored the many guns, his only goal to get inside and speak with Glitch. Coolly tossing the reins to a surprised young officer, Cain turned on his heel. He didn't care if he had to fight his way into the palace.

Fortunately, before it came to that, a voice roared out to let him pass. Looking up the steps into the main Palace, Cain saw Raw bounding towards him.

"Cain!" the Viewer roared, grabbing his arm.

"Sir Raw!" a few soldiers tried to protest, but the Viewer's fierce growls kept them from interfering. Raw bodily pulled Cain into the palace.

"What happened, Raw? Tell me everything." Cain ordered as they took the steps two at a time.

"DG and sister are gone. They went out, never came back."

"Where did they go? Do you know who took them?"

Raw shook his head. His command of the common language wasn't strong enough to explain everything swiftly. He pulled Cain into a lift and punched the buttons to take them high in the skyscraper, to the floors reserved for the Royalty.

The doors to the lift opened, and Raw wasted no time hustling Cain down the hall.

"How did you know to come meet me?" Cain asked.

Raw rolled his eyes. "I felt you reach the City. Felt your worry."

Cain could only raise his brows in surprise.


A sudden violent jolt tossed DG across the back of the truck and into the side, which woke her. Feeling woozy, she groaned, trying to remember what was going on. Peering around the dark interior of the suddenly unmoving van, she soon remembered. Right. Van. Kidnapping. Oh my god, Johnson! Oh, Johnson. She tried not to gag at the memory, but behind her tightly closed eyes, she could see, in slow motion, how his head had…. had….

The only thing worse than the memory itself was the realization that if she did start to throw up, she still had a gag tied around her mouth.

Just then, the door to the rear of the van was flung open. Squinting into the light, DG saw two men, both in beaten up, worn Long Coats, both looking less than respectable. One, the older one, was balding. The younger looked like he had a sneer permanently affixed to his face.

"Hello Princess," Sneer drawled. Baldy elbowed him.

"Just get the tool box," he ordered. Sneer clambered into the van. He smirked widely at DG, and then reached for her.

Just before he could lay hands on her, DG kicked out with her tied-together feet. His yowl of pain and the way he fell sideways was very satisfying. Unfortunately, he recovered quickly. First, he backhanded her viciously, then he hauled her about, tossing her to the other side of the truck. The toolbox had been behind her. DG could feel blood trickling from her nose.

Baldy just shook his head at Sneer. "Idiot. Come on, let's get this thing fixed."

Luckily for DG, they left the door open, obviously confident she couldn't get away. Of course, with the gag and her legs tied together and her arms tied behind her back, she was trussed up like a sausage and really couldn't escape. But she craned her neck, trying to see where they were.

Just at the very limits of her scope of view, she caught a wonderful sight in the pale morning light. Azkadelia's Tower. With that point of reference, she could figure out where they were. She'd been taken west out of Central City, and they were passing just south of the Tower.

Unable to take any action to affect her escape, DG tried the next best thing. Remembering recent lessons from Tutor, she closed her eyes, and with her magic, reached out along the connection she'd built with her sister.

Az? she called mentally. Az? The spell was called a Sending. People with magic who were closely connected should be able to communicate this way, Tutor had said. But until now, DG and Azkadelia had only tried it from opposite sides of the Library.

Az?

DG? Oh DG, where are you?

I'm still in the van. It's broken down, we're behind you, I think. I can just see your Tower from here.

DG, I'm so scared. Zero is taking us to the Dark Altar!

What's that?

It's where our Ancestor Dorothy Gale defeated the Wicked Witch of the West. It's a fortress in the Western Mountains.

I thought we did that?

Different Witch. Zero has gone mad, he believes you're holding me in some sort of spell, and if he… if he murders you on the Dark Altar in the Witch's Fortress, I'll be free AND I'll have the Wicked Witch's power as well. He keeps…DG, he keeps stroking my hair and my face and telling me how he's devoted to me and he'll make sure I'm free to rule…

Oh god, I wish Cain HAD killed that son of a bitch!

DG, what are we going to do? I tried, but I can't seem to do any offensive magic. He keeps a Vaporizer going near me all the time, my head hurts...

I know, sis, just keep calm. I have an idea.

DG what are you going to do?

I'm going to try Sending to Cain.

He doesn't have any magic, he won't get it.

Oh yes he will. I know he will, Az.

But you don't know where he is, he could be too far away.

He's not. I can tell. He's coming for me, coming for us, Az. Don't worry.

DG let the connection with Azkadelia go, the LongCoats were returning. Baldy merely tossed the toolbox into the back, while DG glared her fiercest at Sneer. Sneer looked at her, then licked his lips.

"You think a princess is any better than a whore?" he asked Baldy.

This time, Baldy cuffed him upside the head. "Shaddup you moron! Zero wants her alive, and if she ain't popped, all the better." Pushing Sneer out of the way, Baldy slammed the doors shut. DG heard them climb back in the front and start the van up.

She had to think fast. The message had to be short, because she had to push all her power just to get it to Cain. She hoped, if he didn't know what she meant, he would find out in time to come and save them.

Concentrating, she let memories of Cain fill her mind. She remembered his eyes, bright pale blue like laser beams, and the shape of his face, with his wide mouth and strong jaw. She remembered his scent, masculine musk and old leather. She focused on how he made her feel safe, how his support held her up when she was scared. She concentrated until thoughts of Cain filled her head, letting her magic build and swirl inside.

With a solid push of her power, she Sent four words.

CAIN! WEST! DARK ALTAR!


When Cain entered the room, all heads turned towards him. Ahamo stood, muttering "Thank god." The Queen gave a wordless cry of relief. Guermo and several other guards, plus Tutor, nodded their greetings equably, as if they'd expected him to appear all along. Glitch bounded over immediately to grip Cain's arm, and Jeb immediately spun the map of Central City around so Cain could see it. Several other officers and what appeared to be noble warriors were in the room, including two nearly identical men wearing dark fur pelts as cloaks.

"'Bout time you got here," Jeb said as Cain joined him at the table in the middle of the room.

Cain eyed his son's uniform. "Colonel?"

"Here's what we have so far," Guermo started, getting right into briefing Cain. "Yesterday evening, the Princesses were scheduled to attend opening night of a new Opera. They left in a car with their bodyguards." He paused, glancing at Cain. "Apparently, the driver was not one of ours. Or at least, not loyal. Witnesses at the front of the theatre say the limousine pulled up, paused, and then moved on, turning right at the next side street."

"If it was a big crowd," Cain replied, "Johnson would have changed the arrival point to a rear entrance."

"We think that was what happened."

Cain turned to an officer, issuing orders. "Shake down everyone on the theatre staff. They organized the publicity? Did they include the information that the Princesses were attending? Find out if the publicity was designed to pull a crowd, to force the detail into changing to the rear entrance." The Queen gasped a little. If Cain was right, then the resistance to the restored order was far more widespread than any would have anticipated.

Guermo continued, pointing at the map, "The limousine was discovered this morning, here. Bullit's body was beside the car, Johnson's inside."

"They blew his damned head off," Jeb muttered from Cain's shoulder. Cain's fists tightened where they rested on the table. Johnson had been a good man, a solid Tin Man, but Cain had no time to think about dead men now.

"When did you realize the Princesses were gone?"

"Last night," Glitch answered. His voice was solemn and even. Cain realized this was now Ambrose, the Queen's premier advisor. "We started to get concerned when the normal time they'd return came and passed with no sign of them. We realized it for certain when a messenger arrived from the theatre, bearing the company's note expressing their respects and regrets that the princesses had… 'felt too unwell to attend' that evening."

Cain winced. "So they had, what, a four hour head start at that point?"

"We immediately closed the City," Jeb picked up the tale. "The military has been handling block by block searches."

"No messages, no contact, no ransom requests?"

"None," Ahamo answered.

Cain shook his head. "Call off the searches, they're not in the City anymore." He stared at the map, trying to order all the information he had in his head.

"What do you know?" Glitch asked.

Cain grimaced. "About four days ago, I heard something in the realm. It was a mutter of 'plan', 'princesses'..." he hesitated, then admitted. "And 'Zero'."

"Zero!" Jeb exclaimed.

Cain turned to him. "You were right, son. We should have just killed him. I went out to the old camp, at least three people had come recently, and let Zero out of the tin can." Turning back to the Royal couple, he knew he had to confess his mistake. "I probably should have ridden here right then, but instead I went back to the realm, to see if I could pick up the trail of the conspirators. I couldn't track down enough information, until yesterday afternoon I got word that they'd already moved out."

The Queen, her expression tight but not condemning, looked at him. "You've ridden all night?"

"Yes ma'am." In an extraordinarily demonstrative move for him, Cain went around the table and knelt before the Queen. "I'll get you your daughters back, Your Majesty, I swear it." That he'd give his life to do so went unsaid. It wasn't necessary. Wyatt Cain was a Tin Man. He'd do what had to be done.

The Queen nodded with tears in her eyes. "See that you do, Sir Wyatt," she ordered.

Cain bowed shortly then returned to the table and the maps. "Leave off the city searches," he said. "Get the troops organized. We need to estimate how far they could have gotten. Assume they have vehicles, not horses, calculate an outer perimeter with the City at the center point. I want to send troops out to the farthest points as fast as we can, and let them work inwards from there."

Glitch started jotting numbers on a slip of paper. "With the rains and road conditions last night, we're talking a radius of about thirty spans. And it's expanding every clear minute of weather."

"Right," Cain agreed.

"That's half the Zone!" protested Guermo.

Cain turned to snap at the former LongCoat, when suddenly a pain unlike anything he'd ever experienced lanced through his skull. His knees gave way and he fell, hitting the floor hard. He couldn't hear the exclamations of surprise around him, his ears ringing from the message that just forced its way through his head.

CAIN! WEST! DARK ALTAR!

"Father?" Jeb grabbed his father's shoulders.

"DG!" Cain groaned, clutching his head. Both the Queen and Tutor hurried to his side.

Tutor peered into Cain's face. "She did a Sending!"

"To Mr. Cain?" The Queen asked, amazed.

Cain groaned again, trying to get the pulsing feeling in his head to cease. "West. Dark Altar."

Everyone gasped.

"I don't even want to know what that lunatic is thinking!" snarled Glitch. He reached for Cain, pulling the Tin Man to his feet. "Raw! You're with me and Cain. The rest of you, get moving, get the troops into vehicles and headed west to the old Western Fortress." Clearly, the old Ambrose knew how to manage security issues. He supported Cain while the Tin Man shook off the pain of DG's magic. "I've got something that'll get us there in a hurry," he told Cain.

The three loyal friends headed out of the room.

"Wait!" someone called.

Turning, Cain saw the two identical young men following them. He realized they were Seal Folk. Cain remembered they had a basically warrior culture. They were probably carrying a number of concealed weapons.

"We would come with you," the one with the goatee said.

"I've only got room for one more," Glitch replied. "Who's it going to be?"

The two Seals exchanged a look, and then the one with only a moustache stepped forward. "I will go. My brother will follow with the rest."

"Let's go," Cain growled.

In the lift down, the Seal turned to Cain. "I am Conor. I lifted you from below the ice. I am most pleased to see you." His cheerful grin was disturbing to Cain, considering the dark events they were caught up in. He looked positively delighted to be rushing into danger.

Cain eyed him a moment, then answered evenly, "Obliged for the help."

In the huge street level enclosure, Glitch led them to a particular vehicle. "I've enhanced it. Just finished yesterday and a good thing too."

"Is it fast?" Cain asked.

Glitch smirked. "Fastest vehicle yet. Stripped down for less weight, angled for streamlining." He indicated they should get in. Cain took the seat beside the driver, while Raw and Conor got in the back. "Strap yourselves in," Glitch warned. He started it up, and the engine roared with power. The three passengers were pressed into their seats as Glitch accelerated out of the enclosure. The movements of troops and vehicles swirled in their wake.

They reached the outer wall of the City in moments, and then Glitch really turned up the speed. They fairly flew down the road, seemingly spending more time in the air from the sudden bounces than on the actual ground. Cain set his jaw and stoically refused to let himself close his eyes. The countryside blurred as they passed. Risking a glance behind him, he saw that Raw did close his eyes, clinging to any handhold he could.

But Conor was leaning forward against his seat restraints, his hands clutching the backs of Glitch's and Cain's seats, his eyes and grin wide with delight.

"Can it go faster?" he hollered to Glitch.


Martial arts training, DG told herself furiously as Sneer and Baldy manhandled her into the ugliest squat, square, grey fortress DG had ever seen. I'll get Glitch to teach me martial arts, and Cain will show me how to shoot a gun, and I'll carry one always. Because this is fucking ridiculous.

Grey storm clouds were forming over the mountaintops rising behind the fortress. The daily rains were going to start with a bang. But DG wouldn't get to admire it as the LongCoats literally dragged her through the forbidding gates. DG squirmed and struggled, ineffectually since she was still trussed up like a turkey.

Alright, I'm sick of this Lois Lane shit. Time to turn into Ripley, she decided. Faking despair, she slumped, forcing the LongCoats to carry her entirely.

After descending many stairs, they brought her to a large hall. She looked around, hanging an expression of wide-eyed fear on her face. She could only see a few more LongCoats, maybe ten in total. Apparently Zero did not have quite the support DG had feared. This must be a random attempt.

She spotted the low wide Dark Altar, a slab of some unknown stone, set almost centrally in the chamber. Behind it appeared to be a pit. That made DG nervous. They were deep underground now, and of course the pit emitted a sickly yellow glow, and the air held a sulfurous smell. She really really hoped her murder didn't involve a close up examination of what ever passed for the O.Z.'s lava.

"Excellent!" Zero's voice was sickly exuberant, like a demented child seeing he now had the complete set of his favorite toys. DG saw him come into the room, two more LongCoats escorting a dazed Azkadelia. The elder sister wasn't nearly as filthy or bruised as DG, but her eyes were bloodshot and empty. DG could feel her confusion, brought on by several hours of Vapors, and her fear.

DG longed to Send to Az, but didn't dare. If she was going to have a shot at saving them, she needed to hoard her power.

Zero seemed to fuss at the men holding Azkadelia, making sure they positioned themselves and her according to his sick requirements. He seemed to be both disgustingly obsequious to Az, and at the same time, threateningly familiar. His behavior made DG think of serial rapist killers. The man had obviously cracked, badly. And as dangerous as he'd been as the Sorceress's lead henchman, he'd become ten times more dangerous since being locked in the tin suit.

Turning to her, Zero smiled evilly, and DG involuntarily shuddered at the look in his eyes.

"Hello, girl. Hello, light, hello, Othersider bitch." He came closer, and DG realized she'd never quite understood the expression 'unholy glee' until this moment. Even the other LongCoats looked nervous around Zero. He reached out, taking her chin between his thumb and fingers, pinching hard enough to bruise. He turned her face this way and that, examining her. "You certainly don't look like someone who could imprison the Sorceress. Well, however you did it, it's going to be broken soon."

Stepping away, he ordered, "Tie her to the Altar."

TBC

A/N I thought I was going to get all the excitement into one chapter, but that didn't happen. For the first time in a long time, I'm having a lot of fun writing climactic action-y stuff.

Words so far: 25,637

Pages: 68