Chapter: A Twisted Rescue: 10 of ?

Author: Sam

Series: A Deeper Magic

Last Chapter: The coup begins suddenly and everyone has to escape. Toto winds up joining Jeb at the last minute.

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Shortly after reaching the first sub-level, Wyatt Cain heard the disturbing sound of heavy boots in a marching tattoo. He ran to the next stair access, fleetingly wondering why the architect hadn't simply connected the floors with one central stairwell. The sounds of gunfire made him jump, and he skipped every other step down to sub-level two, hoping to buy some time.

Quiet permeated the third sub-level. Only a handful of medicos walked around among the labs and rooms. Wyatt pelted from the stairwell and called "Everyone out! Leave now!"

Still on edge, even after nearly a month of peace, the medicos didn't ask why. They apparently saw a royal guard in earnest and decided to listen. Men and women in white suits with yellow coats and aprons headed for the little used back stairs. None of them chose to use the dungeon stairs leading to the sewage and exhaust tunnels which could have been a viable escape route.

Wyatt shook his head and called out "DG?"

She must have heard the commotion as she ran out of a room nearby. "Cain?" She hurried over to him, worry lighting her vivid eyes.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the closest room, shutting the door to give them a bit of protection. He glanced quickly over the disused lab; shelves, counters, and tables stood piled with mechanical debris of all descriptions; a tall computer cabinet had been pushed into the corner behind the door. Briefly, the Tin Man determined the shell might effectively hide the smaller form of DG if needed.

"Cain?" she prompted, drawing his attention.

"The tower's under attack by Long Coats," he supplied. "You need to get out of here . . . through the exhaust system for the Sun Seeder. The tunnels are still there."

She shook her head and said in a firm voice, "not without Glitch."

A frown slammed down over his features; he recognized that tone. "DG there's no time. I can protect Glitch. I need you to . . ."

"No, Mister Cain. I'm not leaving." She crossed her arms and glared back at him. "You can protect Glitch and I'll protect myself."

Wyatt sighed. He didn't have the luxury of arguing, however, as the sounds of gunfire echoed from the second floor stairwell. "Do as I say!" he ordered brusquely then whirled DG around and scooped up her hair. Grabbing her long braid, he wrapped it around the lot then tied the ribbon ends, forming a simple ponytail. He reached for a handful of silver colored washers and dull gold nuts from the counter nearby, sorting through them quickly.

Very quietly, tone alert, DG asked "what the hell?"

He shook his head, raised a well-worn nut, the edges practically smooth with age, and eyed it. Grabbing her left hand, he slipped the nut onto her ring finger. "Long Coats are known to kidnap and rape single women, DG. They hesitate to face an angry husband. Do not tell them your real name or even a real husband can't protect you."

"Then I guess it's lucky most people don't know my nickname here," DG whispered.

A loud bang and the door slamming open brought the pair spinning around. A man with shorn brown hair and watchful eyes strode in, heavy boots striking a loud rhythm on the stone flooring. His uniform sported the metal shoulder-guard of a high ranking Long Coat, though it also prevented him from wearing the traditional black trench coat. He looked over the man in the guard uniform and the pretty lady whose hand he held. The invader signaled his troop to continue down the hall.

Wyatt straightened and challenged the vaguely familiar looking man. "Who are you? Why are you here?" He did not touch the gun at his waist, knowing it would be construed as a threat. For now, he went with acting the surprised guard with no killer instinct.

With an inscrutable smile, the man replied, "I am General Randu. I am under the command of the royal family and over the tower guards. You work for me." His voice sounded pleasant, though an undercurrent of command threaded the words. "Report, soldier."

No hesitation colored Wyatt's low baritone as he promptly answered the supposed military commander. "Lieutenant Wyatt Cain, medico guard for the Western Tower, Sir."

Randu appeared to study Wyatt but apparently did not recognize the man or his name, though Wyatt knew of Zero's former second-in-command. "And," the Long Coat leader drawled, "who is the pretty lady?" His eyes roamed DG's form liberally.

Again without pausing, Wyatt said "my wife. She teaches the staff's little ones." He prayed that DG would follow his lead and not protest the background he'd just created for her protection.

Thankfully the younger woman didn't even blink. She merely stayed still and quiet. Wyatt knew that the submissive behavior wouldn't last long, so he went on the offensive once more. "The Long Coats were disbanded when the queen returned, Sir . . . weren't they?" He infused his tone with hopefully the right amount of uncertain bravado.

Laughing, Randu shook his head. "Ah, but there is a new queen now. Queen Lavender has not presented a challenge to Queen Leona, thus Queen Leona now has the throne."

Slowly, as if struggling with the concept, Wyatt nodded. "Long live the queen . . ."

Randu laughed again and seemed to accept Wyatt's acquiescence for the time being. He glanced back at DG, who nodded once.

She softly added, "Long live Queen Leona?" Surprisingly she sounded much like Azkadellia had upon first being freed from possession.

The idea unsettled Wyatt.

The general asked, almost casual sounding, "and are there patients you are guarding, Lieutenant?"

Pretending to trust in this man's as yet unproven credentials, Wyatt nodded, his behavior geared at making it seem he'd gone no further up the ranks due to complacency and slow wits. Wyatt replied rather quickly "one of the mechanics. Head injury and coma." He didn't elaborate further, as he claimed to be a guard not a medico, so he wouldn't know specifics.

Seeming to accept the simple reply, the other man grinned widely and quickly glanced over DG again, who still stood quietly holding Wyatt's hand. Laughing suddenly, Randu nodded. "Well, soon enough, Mrs. Cain, you'll be promoted to Royal Tutor, I've no doubt."

Surprise registered on DG's features. "Oh? Is someone pregnant?" She looked to Wyatt as if verifying permission for speaking.

Shaking his head, Randu's smile widened. "Not yet, but my suit is going nicely and I look forward to a hasty marriage and lots of . . . royal babies." He bowed his head as if in humility, but nothing about his grin bespoke anything less than arrogant pride.

"Congratulations, General?" DG replied softly, glancing at Wyatt again then quickly away as if shy, the veritable picture of a nervous new bride.

"Ho ho!" Randu chuckled. "And do I sense another pregnancy?"

DG's eyes widened and she flushed, but Wyatt, who looked equally shocked, knew her reaction was from anger at the assumption, not wifely pleasure. He drew the attention by adding his voice to DG's. "Congratulations, Sir." Wyatt knew undercover work was only as good as the cover, and theirs was precarious at best; they'd be lucky not to end in a verbal brawl that gave their relationship away. However, as they already had started the deception, Wyatt saw a huge advantage to being in the tower: he could get information to the others. His pretense at gullibility and under-intelligence could make him seem non-threatening to the invaders as well, adding to their willingness to discuss important things around Wyatt. He looked towards the door; the hall had fallen quiet. "Sir? I should check the level. I've got patrol every hour."

Randu nodded in apparent affability. "Naturally. I don't think the medicos are around anymore, though. They all ran away, I'm sure." His opinion of medical staff seemed rather low.

Frowning, Wyatt straightened and saluted Randu, fighting his dislike. He tugged DG gently by the hand, leading her into the hall and making a show of looking around. He could hear Randu behind them as Wyatt led DG towards the only closed door he saw . . . and the one from which DG had originally emerged. The threesome looked in every open door they passed, seeing nobody.

All the while, Wyatt's mind raced over possibilities for information gathering as well as ways to try to move Glitch, and subsequently DG, out to a safer location.

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"Bastard!" DG thought, fighting to keep her opinions unspoken and her anger in check. The last few minutes had been harder than climbing the tower balcony during the eclipse. Controlling her emotions became more difficult with each beat of Randu's boots on the dark stone floor.

The invader had brought bad news with his verification of Leona's coup and the general's romance with the newest queen. And acting so friendly . . . DG didn't need to be Raw to see right through that act. She just hoped the Long Coat wouldn't see past her 'good little O.Z. wife' act.

A slight shaking of her left hand drew her attention, and DG flushed, easing her tight grip on Wyatt's hand; he'd never dropped their contact since meeting Randu. Wyatt didn't turn, checking each open door they passed on his supposed patrol, but a brief squeeze back on her hand let her know he felt as tense, as disturbed, as she did by the turn of events.

Noting the next door led to Glitch's recovery room, where the royal advisor lay defenseless, injured, and asleep, DG took a deep breath. "Why did the medicos run away?" She had to remember to use her soft 'Az' imitation; her normal combative attitude would probably endanger them. She'd only met a handful of women so far in this land but only one had been tough, and Lorraine had backed down at her husband, Ralph's, insistence.

Randu seemed content enough to answer her softly spoken question. "Probably thought they were under attack." His smile almost appeared to be a constant expression. "But that's foolish. Only those who resist the queen's rightful rule are disciplined."

Again, DG felt Wyatt shake her hand to remind her to loosen her grip; she clutched his gun hand and squeezing it wouldn't help if he needed to draw and fire. "So, who'll take care of the patient?"

Wyatt answered this time, his voice matter-of-fact. "They'll have to come back. They're medicos. They have to take care of patients."

A chuckle from Randu had DG biting back a retort. Wyatt's dumb act made her uncomfortable; she knew how brilliant he really was. But, DG knew that Wyatt had a reason for acting complacent and . . . stupid. It was the same reason DG had for being . . . docile: to fool Randu into overlooking them as a potential threat.

The pair walked past Glitch's closed door, but stopped when Randu called out "you missed one, Lieutenant."

So far their very different appearances from their recent wanted poster hadn't seemed to register on Randu's memory. But if a third member of their four-man outlaw band were presented, she doubted this general wouldn't notice the resemblance. DG opened her mouth, mind racing.

"Not allowed in patient rooms," Wyatt intoned, as if reciting well-drilled orders. "Might make them sicker." The Tin Man began to walk again and, much to DG's shock, Randu merely chuckled and followed, not pushing the point.

DG doubted the man was really as genial as he seemed. This entire conversation had to be a series of tests.

They finally reached the end of the corridor. Wyatt turned but didn't let go of her hand yet. He looked down at her with intense crystal-blue eyes. "You can't come to me on duty again, Deeg." He ran the initials together much like Azkadellia used to when they were children. "I have work."

"No," Randu interrupted, his voice amused. "I want you both upstairs. Lead the way, Lieutenant . . . sleeping quarters."

"Shit!" DG thought, wondering if they'd been caught. She couldn't figure out why the sleeping quarters . . . and did Wyatt even know where the bedrooms were? She knew he'd spent the entire night sitting up, waiting for news of Glitch. "The sleeping quarters?" DG questioned out loud, reminding herself to blush shyly. She felt a good new bride would be embarrassed to let some strange man see where she slept.

"Of course," Randu answered but didn't elaborate.

It was DG's turn to shake their entwined hands as Wyatt's grip tightened to a painful vise. Instantly, he relaxed his hold but didn't let go. She gently squeezed once, trying to reassure the tall, blond bodyguard. He didn't respond, turning towards a set of back stairs.

As the trio climbed several levels, DG began to wonder if Wyatt had been wrong. She wondered if the threat of a husband, even one in the flesh, would prevent Randu from raping her. A shudder travelled down her spine and her hand clenched Wyatt's once more. This time, he didn't shake her to release the pressure, simply squeezing back.

The group turned into a hall unfamiliar to DG. She frowned but didn't argue. The walls of black marble lacked the gold veining of the royal level, and the narrow cut-glass windows didn't let in as much light as the wide crystal windows of the higher level. At the third door from the steps, Wyatt stopped and opened it onto a medium-sized room. A full-sized bed, free-standing armoire, and small dressing table with chair sat along two walls. A sturdy wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed and a second wooden door graced the plain wall on their right.

Wyatt turned to Randu. "It's not big, Sir, but you can have our room if you need one."

General Randu laughed and shook his head. "No. I've got a room on a higher level." He turned and looked inside. "You two go on and spend the day together." He smiled down at DG, who wanted to claw his face. Still smiling at her, Randu said "it's obvious you've only just been married. Tomorrow you both," he looked at Wyatt, "begin your work for the queen." He gestured them into the room.

Without question, Wyatt pulled her into the room. "Yes, Sir," he said, confusion lacing his voice.

Randu shut and locked the door, trapping the pair. The sound of his footsteps, accompanied by chuckling, faded as he left them there, trotting down the steps.

DG let go of Wyatt's hand and glared at him. "Now what? He obviously didn't fall for this stupid . . . "

"He's testing us," her bodyguard responded.

Stopping her tirade, DG looked at him, studying his face, his eyes. Finally, she sighed and paced to the narrow window overlooking the dry moat several floors below. "Testing us," she repeated. "What do we do now, Mister Cain?"

Wyatt opened the armoire and sorted through the feminine clothing and masculine uniforms inside. "You can start by calling me Wyatt. Most wives don't call their husbands 'Mister' in the O.Z."

Whirling, DG noticed the clothes, surprised. "How did you know to choose this room?" She walked over, amazed that the uniforms appeared to be Wyatt's size. With O.Z. fashion, the feminine clothing would be adjustable if she continued to use a shaper.

Wyatt pulled out his own clothes, duster, and fedora, wrapping the duster around the entire bundle. He looked down at DG. "I came up to wake Jeb and Dylan and was told to use the uniforms in here until they could make me some. Apparently the guard and his wife are up north visiting relatives. They won't return during this coup." Sighing, he turned back to the armoire and shoved his own clothing to a far, dark corner of the free-standing closet. "Now we need a plan for when he comes back." He looked up and nodded once. "You're doing good."

DG sighed and walked to the bed to sink onto the thick counterpane. "I'm finding I don't like undercover work . . . Wyatt." She looked up at him and frowned, noticing for the first time just how tired he looked; there was dark bruising under his normally brilliant eyes. "Mister . . . Wyatt, you didn't sleep last night," she accused.

Turning from the armoire, he nodded. "Two nights, actually. We wanted to get the information to you before something happened." Running a hand through his short light-blond hair, the Tin Man shrugged slightly. "We barely made it."

She patted the bed. "Come on, Cain . . . Wyatt. I'll wake you when he comes back." He began to protest but she cut him off. "Let me watch over you now, Wyatt. It's my turn."

A heartbeat passed then another. Finally, Wyatt nodded and stepped forward. He began unbuckling the gunbelt and paused, crystal-blue eyes widening in sudden realization. "He left me the revolver."

DG's own vivid blue eyes dropped to his narrow waist then raised to his face. "That's a good sign."

"Yes, it is." He smiled slightly then masked his emotions once more. Slipping the belt off, he placed it carefully in DG's hands before sinking, fully uniformed, onto the bed.

She carefully wrapped the belt around her own waist, surprised by the unfamiliar heaviness of the gun on her right hip. Turning, she watched as Wyatt quickly dropped off to a sleep he'd denied himself too long. Silently, DG began to mentally sort through the information they had so far. They needed a way out . . . and a way to save Glitch.

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Continued in Chapter Eleven: Through the Recesses

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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)