Chapter: A Time for Action: 9 of ?
Author: Sam
Series: A Deeper Magic
Last Chapter: Az gives DG a history and culture lesson while revealing her own betrothal.
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Early morning sunlight shimmered across the gold-flecked onyx marble floor. Three men stood in the main sitting room seemingly unaware of their opulent surroundings. Despite the public room, the men appeared to be dressing, though no discarded clothes sat around, denoting they were merely putting the finishing touches on their new outfits. As they slipped into the brown and gold jackets that completed the royal uniforms they wore, the men spoke in low tones.
"Look, if this gets bad, we're going to need backup. We need a way to get the family and staff into safety, too." Wyatt settled the jacket on his wide shoulders, feeling odd to once more sport a uniform. He began buttoning the jacket, privately comparing the sturdy outfit with the emerald and silver uniform he'd worn while serving as the Mystic Man's Tin Man. There seemed to be little difference aside from the color; allegiance to the Mystic Man had ultimately meant allegiance to the House of Gale.
Jeb settled the sword belt over his slim hips. He seemed uncomfortable in the new uniform, long used to the piecemeal ragged denim and scarlet neckerchief he'd worn as a resistance fighter. "I've heard that if Lux asks for help, the messengers are killed. It's why no one was able to get help during the witch's reign."
Wrapping a long, braided leather whip around his waist, Dylan glanced up. Without looking, his nimble fingers clipped the whip in place, leaving the strong heavy handle dangling over his right hip in preparation of quick access. No opinion of his current clothing registered on his face. "There is a way . . ."
"Hello. Wow! Nice. . ."
DG's voice drew the attention of all three men, Wyatt turning fully, hands stilling on the buttons of his jacket. The woman stood there finally dressed in a traditional loose blouse, long skirt, and camisole of blue, turning her from a child of a foreign land to a woman of the O.Z. Her hair flowed half-down her back in ripples, signaling her single state, yet one lock had been intricately braided in a white ribbon, suggesting she had a suitor. However, despite DG's beautiful transformation, Wyatt's lips twitched as he noticed she ran around in stocking feet. He hadn't known her to eschew shoes before, but he wouldn't put anything past her.
"Brown is good on you," DG added, not clarifying which man she spoke of. "I'm going to visit Glitch. Wanna come?"
Wyatt nodded and closed the last two buttons on his jacket. Reaching for his gun belt, he said, "I'll catch up, Princess. We're discussing security."
Normally she would have thrown herself into the discussion, but her worry for their friend appeared to hold sway over her. "Right. Fill me in later." She smiled at the two other men and turned, leaving as quickly and quietly as she'd arrived.
Watching the empty door, slowing fastening the belt over his hips and settling the revolver in place, Wyatt looked thoughtful, frowning. A hand on his shoulder made him jump and he whirled around, facing his son, Jeb.
"I heard she was raised by nurture units?" the younger man asked. His darker blond hair fell over his grey-blue eyes, making him appear rakish.
With a nod, Wyatt responded, "Yeah, on the Other Side. Names of Hank and Emily."
Jeb looked towards the door then back at his father, frowning slightly. "Maybe they can go into Milltown and ask for support from the House of Idae?"
"Father View?" Wyatt filled in. He nodded, crystal blue eyes narrowed in thought. "That would work. Raw can go to the Viewers and see if they'll help, too. We should send them as soon as possible." He looked towards the hall once more. "And we need an escape plan in case of attack."
A thoughtful look on his pale face, Dylan opened his mouth to speak but the sound of running boots interrupted, causing all three men to whirl towards the door, reaching for their weapons.
Azkadellia, still in dressing gown and slippers, hair hastily piled on her head and tied with a dark ribbon, hurried into the room but signalled the two guards accompanying her to go on. As they ran off, she called to the newest royal Tin Men, "a platoon of men on horseback are approaching the tower." She put a hand over her mid-abdomen. "Dressed in Long Coat gear." Her tone revealed her knowledge that the news would not be welcome.
Quickly moving to her side, Jeb's voice sounded tight and urgent. "How long before they get here?" Apparently, despite spending annuals fighting the formerly possessed princess, the leader of the resistance put his dislike and even his distrust aside in their mutual distress.
"Ten minutes?" Az guessed, turning to the younger man. No recognition of the younger Cain showed in her brown eyes; she had never met independent members of the fighting force against the witch.
Dylan stiffened. "We need to invoke the Clan Cooperation Treaty." He ran a hand through his platinum-tinted locks and turned his steel-grey eyes on the princess. "How many advisors are available?"
Shock crossed Az's features as she whirled to the other young man. "How did you know?"
Jeb looked confused, but no one took the time to explain. Rather Dylan shook his head and reached out to grip Az's wrist. "No time, Princess. We need to send parlay and the advisors are needed for that."
Az stiffened but said, "You are correct. Several pairs will be quicker but we haven't many advisors to send. Raw and Tutor are the only ones available."
As if called by his name or their concern, Raw entered the room with young Kalm in his wake. Both wore the traditional furred robes of their people, but those garments were in pristine order with a hint of brown and gold woven through the fabric to denote their status in the royal house. The elder appeared to take in the situation at first glance since he crossed his arms and frowned. "Raw take Kalm north."
"Yes," Az turned and glanced over the viewers she'd been forced to imprison and torture not long ago. "Let Hank and Emily know to go to Milltown. Tell them to ask for Clan Cooperation Peace for Lux. Tell them they must have no more or less than a pair when they ask." The princess didn't clarify her orders. She turned her head and asked, "who will go west? East?"
Dylan stepped into Raw's path and held up a hand. "If we don't have enough to cover all clans, we need a meeting point to regroup before sending to the remaining ones. I recommend Shiz Academy. Only vagrants use it now and the Long Coats may not see it as a threat."
"Done. Raw, cover Mount Runcible, too," Wyatt said, signalling Raw to get Kalm out of there. As the two passed Dylan, the Tin Man said, "I'll get DG and we can go east to the Guild Fighters." He headed for the door then turned. "Someone needs to tell the queen."
Jeb nodded. "I'll catch up to them and let them know then gather who I can from the resistance. That leaves the south." He turned his steel-blue eyes on the princess and said "if you take Dylan, you'll be a pair. Will that do for this parlay?"
Dylan tugged gently on Az's wrist. "It will. We'll cover the Papay, Finaqua, and the Unwanted." He looked at Az. "We'll get you clothes once we're safer." Without further pause he tugged again on the princess's wrist and led her out the door and down the hall, towards a back exit.
The father and son looked at one another and Wyatt put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Stay safe, Jeb. We'll meet at Shiz."
With a brief nod, Jeb whirled around and sprinted down a different hall from Dylan or Raw.
Wyatt left at a run as well, taking the stairs towards sub-level three and the brain storage-surgery suites . . . the elevator would take too long. He needed to get DG out of there . . . and find a way to protect the defenseless Glitch from this invasion.
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Something disturbed his sleep. The small brown and grey, scruffy looking dog opened brown eyes, jaw stretching wide in a huge yawn. He rolled to his belly and, butt rising first, stretched long and luxuriously. Giving a slight wag to his tail, the shape shifter looked around, trotting from under the bed, small ears perking at a strange noise. He froze, listening.
Gunfire . . . running boots . . . screams . . .
Horror filled the little dog as flashes of a former coup shuddered over him. Older than he appeared, distracted by the remembered horror of the witch's violent bid for power, the magical tutor became aware of his own danger too late.
Someone smelling of leather and sulfur scooped up the dog sometimes called Toto. Without pause, the man roughly slipped a hard, unyielding collar over the small furry head and clicked a button on the back. Oddly enough, a slight vibration seemed to emanate from the collar.
The shape shifter reacted without thought, reaching his head around and sinking his teeth into the exposed flesh just above the man's thick glove.
With a yelp, the unidentified attacker dropped the small mongrel.
Taking advantage, Toto sprinted from the room and into chaos. In only minutes, the hall had filled with smoke and a trio of unmoving bodies sprawled where they had fallen, guardians of the royal sleeping hall no more. The sound of gunfire had moved further off, but the dog didn't pause, he ran pell-mell down a side hall and towards the servant stairs.
The violence was no less on the ground floor as Toto found himself forced to dodge a set of men dressed in the black leather and long trench coats of the witch's guard. He didn't let himself wonder about the ramifications, knowing he would have the luxury of thought after he escaped. Rather, the small dog headed at top speed for one of the narrow, high casements lining the hallway.
Gathering his strength, praying for the small bit of magic he possessed to aid his flight, the dog jumped for the four foot high ledge.
Having made the impossible leap, he continued his mad dash, vaulting from the window and into the tall white flowers of the western moon garden. Lifting his nose to the air, he tried to scent a familiar person . . . a friend in the madness. Surprise vibrated along his spine . . . or was it the cursed collar . . . and he turned to chase after the scent he'd caught.
As he ran up to the quickly moving man, he let out a small yip. The man, dressed in royal brown and gold, turned, a look of surprise crossing his young features. Toto took the time to acknowledge that this was Jeb Cain, son of the former Tin Man, Wyatt Cain. Yipping again, the dog leapt at the former resistance fighter.
The young man had fine reflexes, catching Toto in midair. "What the hell?" he questioned, voice shocked.
Toto yipped again, knowing he couldn't explain in dog-form, but not wanting to take the time and exhausting effort of shifting into a man. Rather, he shoved his nose into Jeb's neck then pointed his muzzle to the west, encouraging the eighteen annual old man to get them out of this nightmare. He figured he could explain later, once they were relatively safe.
Jeb seemed to accept that he'd acquired a four-legged companion, because the man simply hugged the small dog closer and ran, crouched, towards the west. The cracked, bare land offered little cover, but the resistance fighter used what he could as he carried his new companion away from the Western Dark Tower and towards an unknown future.
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Continued in Chapter Ten: A Twisted Rescue
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The Twelve Clans of the Outer Zone with the Ruling House of Each Clan:
Aquam Clan/ House of Rimi . . . (Ice- Mount Runcible)
Cogitatio Clan/ House of Idae . . . (Milltown)
Corde Clan/ House of Animum . . . (Viewers)
Fortitudo Clan/ House of Greyhatt . . . (Guilds- Munchkins)
Lux Clan/ House of Gale . . . (formerly House of Ozma- Gillikin)
Mortem Clan/ House of Shiz . . . (Alma Mata- Gillikin)
Nature Clan/ House of Terrae . . . (Vinkus- Thousand Year Grasslands)
Papay Clan/ House of Somniabunt
Phlogiston Clan/ House of Pyre . . . (Fire- Desert surrounding O.Z.)
Sapientiam Clan/ House of Quinolui . . . (Quadling- Realm of the Unwanted)
Spiritus Clan/ House of Aeris . . . (Air- Lake Country)
Tenebris Clan/ House of Fugae . . . (Witch's Dark Tower- Gillikin)
