StarDestroyer.Net BBS

This fic is a sequel to an earlier one, A Question of Loyalty.


Winter in the north sucks dog's balls. The snow isn't the worst, although it does suck. That honour is reserved for the wind. It cuts like a knife and slips through cracks to get everywhere. Fucking north. Fucking war. Why did morons have to listen to the god damn Rebel and decide to fight the Lady? Can they really believe this cluster fuck is better than her rule? She's not a white saint by any means, but there is peace and reasonably fair law and taxation. Why the fuck did they follow the old nobles who just wanted their petty fucked up little tyrannies back?

I opened the door to the Black Eage and slammed it behind me before anyone could raise a stink. I knew the answer, of course. The Lady made a great villian and so did the Ten Who Were Taken. The Rebel painted himself as the inheritor of the ancient enemy of evil. Well, I guess we fit the bill pretty good. So did they.

"Gaunt, get your skinny ass down here and play," said Clay. He's a big fucker, corporal in one of the better units since he's been assigned to the Black Eagle, and I play cards with him and his boys occasionally. "But if you do, you have to take off that damn mask."

"Not now," I said gesturing with the bundle under my arm. "Maybe latter." I climbed the stairs, heading towards my room. My status as a wizard had gotten me fairly nice quarters, which had ended up being in the Black Eagle. The management had the choice of accepting it, at army rates, or protesting. With one of the Taken in town, so that examples could be spectacularily brutal. None of the Ten were known for being nice.

I knocked on the door. A moment latter and Jen slid the latch and opened the door a crack. She smiled and slipped the chain, opening the door for me. I put the bundle down on the table and came in.

Jen was wrapped up in a blanket even though the fire was blazing in the iron stove. She was smiling shighly. War is hell and the powerless get the worst of it. Jen's village had been near where the Empire and the Rebel clashed. It had been bad for anyone nearby. I didn't ask what happened to Jen's people, I could guess.

She had survived what had happened, mentally and physically. She had made her way to the city and managed to avoid the pimps. With soldiers being housed in what seemed like half the fucking city, they were in the market for refugee women. There wasn't a hell of a lot of work around. She ended up struggling to get by and then becoming a soldier's woman. Mine.

I took her inn, gave her a warm place to stay. With everyone else dead, my mission was over. I didn't wear the badge of the Faceless Man, so everyone forgot about me. I was able to get pretty good lodgings as being a wizard in the Lady's army still means something. Just me, my guilty conscience, and Jen.

Sometime in the winter she went from being my charity object to being my lover. Funny how things work out. I pulled off my mask and put it on the table and began pulling off my gloves. She took my hands in her and began rubbing. "Let me warm them for you." She was looking down, not meeting my gaze. I leaned over and kissed her on the forhead. She looked up and smiled. She had gorgeous blue eyes and a wonderful smile. "What did you bring this time?"

"Unrap it and see," I responded. She pulled away the cloth to reveal slice of pork. "I figured a change from stew would be nice."

She nodded. Before I could get any further there was a knock at the door. "The wizard Gaunt," a gruff voice called out.

"Yes," I replied, replacing my mask. I didn't recognize the voice. A killing spell was only a word and a flick of the fingers away.

"Open up. Orders." I slid the latch back and then the chain. The guy on the otherside was a big bastard, broad shouldered with a salt and pepper beard. A scar went down the right side of his face, half hidden by his beard. He wore the badge of the Faceless Man.

Just off to the side was another guy. Darker skinned and lean with ritual scars on his face. The hilt of a sword stuck out over his shoulder blades. He wore leathers and furs, not a military uniform. "Gaunt. You've been called in. Let's go."

"By whom?" I asked.

"The Faceless himself. Let's get moving."

So I followed the bearded guy through the streets of Ade. The wind had picked up and it was kicking snow flakes through the air and into my eyes. I pulled the hood of my cloak tighter around my face. The guy with the ritual scars and the big fucking sword sneared at me. He was busy pretending the snow didn't bother him at all. Fuck him.

The streets were pretty clear, which was a sign of sanity by the local residents. Night was coming and it was fucking miserable already. Two bastards were freezing their asses off at the gates to the citadel. They both wore the blank oval of the Faceless Man. They recognized beard right away. They saluted and we past through.

It was somewhat warmer inside and their was almost no fucking wind, which was a massive improvement. Beard took the lead and headed down the hall and up the stairs. He lead us to a nice room lined with tapestries and that had every inch of floor covered with carpets. The room had a nice, blazing fire going in the hearth. A tall man was facing the fire. He turned.

He wore armour of black plate with the full helm. A heavy cloak hung from his shoulders he was wearing a sword. The only decoration was a blank oval on the breastplate. I didn't try to meet the gaze that came through the helmet slits. I've seen the face The Limper hides behind a mask. It isn't pretty. A couple hundred years in the grave wasn't kind to him. I have no desire to catch a half glimpse of the wreckage someone called The Faceless Man is sporting.

"Gaunt," said a hollow sounding voice, sounding as if it came from far away. I've heard Soulcatcher's voice was the worst, but this one was pretty bad. "You are one of The Limper's."

"I was assigned to his command," I said distancing myself from The Limper as quickly as possible. The Taken's murderous feuds were legend.

"Yes. And now you are here. Without orders. Doing nothing while a war wages. I, on the other hand, have a use for you."

Well, it didn't take a genius to figure out the correct answer here. "I am at your disposal lord."

"Good. You are familiar with the fortress at Crown?"

"I've heard of it."

"There have been reports of grave happenings. It is probably a diversion to lure me away, but I cannot ignore these reports. Lyze," a nod to indicate beard, "will be in charge. You will answer to him."

"Understood lord," I replied. "The uhh, details about-"

"Lyze has the dispatches," said The Faceless with finality of a tomb door closing.

"Yes lord."

"You are dismissed." I turned and left immediately. Lyze put his hand on my shoulder.

I turned around and he tossed something at me. I plucked it out of the air. It was a small brass badge inscribed with a blank oval.

"Welcome to the team."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I was able to stop by at the Black Eagle. Jen knew there was something wrong the moment I stepped into our room. "What is it?" she said.

"I have to go," I said. "Taken's orders. I don't know how long I'll be gone." Her eyes were wet. I embraced her. "I don't have much time." I pressed my purse which had more than a few silver, into her hands. "Take care of yourself. Do whatever you have to." Fool. She knew that already. "I'll be back, if I can."

She just held me.

I came down stairs. "Finished saying good bye to your woman?" Lyze asked when I came out. The barbarian snickered.

"Yes," I replied, daring him to make something of it.

"Here's the deal wizard," Lyze said, "I'm in charge. I say jump, you jump. You may be some hot shot from the Tower, but this is my outfit and its my way or out feet first. Got it?"

"Got it. Sir."

"Good. That mean barb son-of-a-bitch over there is Tenkiller. He's been a part of my team for a long time. Do you know how you fit in?"

"I'm the new guy at the bottom," I said. Gods I hate these macho soldier games.

"Right. We're going."

"We're leaving for Crown now?" I asked. It was snowing and it was dusk. I'm sure there were worse conditions to start a journey, but I couldn't think of any off hand.

"No, we heading to our racks." He opened the door to the Black Lion and into the snow. I followed. Tenkiller took up the rear. It didn't take us long to reach where Lyze's crew bunked. They had taken over one of the nicer houses in this not particularily nice city. Probably confiscated during the trouble a couple of years back. He knocked loudly on the door and a wiry guy nearly six and a half feet tall opened the door. He was shy about carrying steel.

"This is Gaunt," said Lyze. "He's a spook pusher. This is Talker."

Talker narrowed his eyes and stared at me, but said nothing. He opened the door wide enough for us to get through. Inside it was relatively cosey with a warm fire and bunch of hard men either sprawled asleep, eating, or playing cards. All of them had weapons within easy reach and I'm sure they all knew how to use them.

"Listen up boys," said Lyze. Eyes turned toward him. "We're heading out tomorrow for Crown, first thing in the morning. Pass the word and get some shut eye. Its going to be a bitch out there."

One of the gamblers, a squat dark man asked a question without raising his eyes from his cards. "Who's the fresh meat?"

"Gaunt," said Lyze. "He's our witch, so keep him safe. We might need him at Crown."

"Does he know enough to get the fuck out of the way?" said the gambler.

"I'm still in the army, so I'll have to say no," I replied. A few of them chuckled.

"Grab a bunk and make sure your packed to head off first thing in the fucking morning," said Lyze with all the eloquence onf an annoyed soldier.

I replied the safe way. "Yes sir." Soldiers were slumped on couches and beds that probably dated from the original occupants, but there was also a room that had been filled with bunk beds. One of the bottom ones was unclaimed.

I warmed up by the fire, got some cheese, greasy mutton, and bad ale to wash it down, and tried to get some sleep. It wasn't an entirely futile endeavour.

We hit the road the next morning with a minimal amount of bitching. It was still cold as a tax collector's heart. There was about a score of us and the rest of them had horses stabled nearby. I grabbed one and we saddled up and headed out. We left the city and down the road, which was covered in thin layer of snow.

I headed up the line to where Lyze and Talker were riding. "Sir," I said in my best profesional manner, "what is going on?" Not exactly obeying strict military protocal, bu the rules aren't quite the same for wizards.

Lyze said nothing for a moment. "You know about the fortress at Crown?"

"Yeah. Well built place on the top of crag overlooking a broad plain. Hard to to take and you can see ants crawling miles away from its walls."

Lyze nodded. "Its an important place, but not as important as Ade. If the Faceless moves up there, there's no one who can stand up to the Circle if they come in swinging. The garrison commander at Crown is reporting that something is killing his men. Bodies found torn apart in the halls, no sign of the killer. Crown matters. Losing it will hurt."

"So The Faceless sends you and the best wizard he can get his hands on to investigate matters."

"That's the long and short of it. Could it be some sort of demon?"

"That's tricky," I said. "There are still monsters on the edge of human civilization, in the Plain of Fear and other places. It could be one of them. Or something left over from the Domination. The Dominator and some of the Taken bound creatures of this world and brought through creatures from other worlds to be there servants. Most were slain or interred in the Barrowlands with their masters when the White Rose won. Or one of the Circle could have brought through something and bound it." The Circle of Eighteen weren't a match for the Ten Who Were Taken, but they were skilled sorcerers. It wouldn't necessarily be beyond one of them.

"So you don't know jack."

"Not yet," I admitted. "I'll know more once I can get a look around Crown. Hells, for all I know it could be a forvalaka."

"Forvalaka?"

"Kind of were leopard found down south. Nasty."

"Would we need silver?"

"No," I said. "They're just fast, extremely tough, and heal quickly." Oh non-existent and spiteful gods, please don't let it be a forvalaka.

Lyze grunted. "If its flesh and blood, we can find it and kill it." He really didn't know forvalaka. I didn't try to disabuse him. Besides, it probably wasn't one.

Riding in the north during winter is an amazing experience I advice everyone to pass on. It was cold, snow flakes were blown in my eyes, and the wind bit like a knife. Camping wasn't much better. There burnt out remnants of inns and farmsteads were easy to find. The war hadn't been kind to those around Ade.

I mostly rode next to an unpreposing man who went by the handle of Speedy. It didn't seem to fit. He didn't talk much and I didn't feel like conversation so we got along well enough.

After a week of miserable travel at a snail's pace, Crown came into view. It wasn't built on a crag like I thought. It was built on top of a very steep hill in the middle of a very flat plain. It was a damn big.

"There she is boys," said Lyze. "Let's get moving. We might actually sleep in beds tonight if we hurry."

Crown was even bigger up close. We rode our horses up a slush covered switchback road to the gatehouse. The walls were damned tall, maybe fifty feet. A soldier up top through a salute and motioned us in. We passed under a large number of murder holes and into the courtyard. A couple soldiers met us to take our horses. Lyze wouldn't have any of that.

We stabled our horses ourselves and saw to them, a task I managed to execute with marginal competence. Lyze's boys removed all sorts of lethal hardware from their saddles. Well, that made sense. They weren't being sent here as part of sight seeing expedition.

Lyze took me, Talker, and his lieutenant, a stocky guy by the name of Brick, up to the garrison commander's office. That turned out to be a room in the upper corner of the main keep, a big blocky building that was marginally warmer than the outside. The commander was grey haired man by the name of Colonel Willen who was bundled up in a heavy fur despite the blazing fireplace behind him.

He rose from his desk. "Lyze."

Lyze nodded in acknowledgement. "Colonel Willen. The Faceless Man gave me the orders personally to come here and solve your problem. The guy in the mask is Gaunt, the tall guy with the big sword is Talker, and the boulder that walks is Brick. We need to know what's going on."

"Nothing good," said Willen. "Started last month. Lost a guy on the parapet. One minute he was there, the next there was a blood stain and a mutilated corpse in the snowbank below. Search came up with jack shit. Didn't have nothing for a week after that and then I lost two guys on top of a tower. One of them managed to scream. The rest of the boys got up there pretty quick, but whatever killed them was gone by then. Four days latter it took someone inside the keep. Found the blood, the head, and some of the torso. Its killed fourteen of my men and scared the ever living fuck out of the rest. It kills only a night and it always makes a clean getaway."

"Tracks?" Talker asked.

"No," said Willen. "Some of the snow was messed up, but that's it."

"Do you still have the bodies?" I asked.

"No. Burned them." Fuck. So much for that idea. "We have patrols every night," said Willen. "Four men strong. And everyone sleeps with friends behind locked doors. It hasn't taken anyone in eight days."

Lyze looked at me. "That wasn't going to last," I said. "Its not attacking soldiers because it wants to, there's plenty of easier meat down on the plain. Its killing us because its compelled to. Its master won't relent just because the job's getting harder."

"You sure?" said Lyze.

"Positive? No sir. But since I'm gambling my life on the answer, its the one I'm going with."

Lyze nodded. "We need a couple of your boys to show us around this place. Talker, take Gaunt and Speedy and see what you dig up."

I almost objected to being put under the command of Lyze's pet barbarian, but wisely decided against that. Wallen called in a bright eyed young guy by the name of Mirken to show us around. Talking with Mirken and you wouldn't believe that the guy lived in a haunted castle where the resident ghoul ate someone once a week.

Mirken gave us a tour of every cell, cellar, storeroom, armsroom, gardrobe, barracks, nook, cranny, and trysting spot in the entire damn place. Talker didn't say a damn thing during the whole time. It took a hell of a long time and my legs were screaming for mercy by the end of it and my stomach was definitely not happy with the current state of affairs.

We finally finished and headed to get chow. We were at the tail end of dinner and were only able to grab what was left over. Dinner was a quiet, somber affair and the locals were looking at us like they were considering staking us out in the courtyard for the monster. Well fuck them, fuck Crown, fuck Talker, fuck Lyze, fuck the Rebel, and fuck the Faceless. Fuck the war too, while I'm at it. I started spooning up thin stew and stuffing down hard bread. I was going to walk away from this place alive if I had to kill everyone else in the process.

The shit hit the fan, of course. I had just finished putting a defensive ward on my door so nasty that it would slow down one of the Taken when I heard running outside my room. I opened the door and saw Brick and a half a dozen soldiers. "There's been a killing."

We hauled ass across the keep, which was decent sized. It didn't take us long to get there. Something had broken down the door to one of the bunk rooms and smashed them to kindling. Inside was a horror show.

Blood was splattered everywhere. Hell, three of the guys inside hadn't finished dying. Something had severed limbs and torn huge holes in torsos. It was bad, bad business. I managed not to puke.

"Fuck me like a goat," said Brick. Talker showed up with more guys. Some of them got a good look. A few of them got a little green around the gills as well. Talker was looking around at something.

"Gaunt," he said. I walked over to the big bad barb. "Tracks," he said. He gestured to the guys who had come with him, which was four guys in full harness. "Let's move."

Talker followed the blood trial and we followed Talker. The thing, whatever it was, headed downstairs. It was well into the night by now and everyone was using lamps or torches. I expected to see the thing at any moment. Nope.

I couldn't see whatever it was Talker was following, but he seemed to be able to find it. We kept on going down, to the storage cellars beneath the keep. This didn't make any fucking sense at all. We had searched this area. Thoroughly. Twice.

So we headed down the spiral staircase without too much complaint. We were jumpy as hell, had our weapons out and all that. Talker moved into the corridor and I followed him. Then there was a scream from behind me and hot blood splashing over my back and neck.

I dived to the side and turned around. There was something on the wall of the inner core of the stairway. It had dropped down and decapitated the man behind me. I couldn't see much from my position, just a pair of long scything blades. It drove them into the skull of another man. I heard a crossbow discharge and several men struck at it with weapons. I think they might have hit, but they didn't stop it.

It dropped down further, revealing part of a body that looked like a gigantic black armoured centipede. It's scythe blade mandibles took off a guy's arm just above the elbow and then it took a mace blow. I heard the impact. It didn't even slow down and took off the guy's head.

Talker had drawn his big fancy curved sword and moved in. He aimed at a leg joint and struck. It came off, dripping yellow ichor. I fired of a spray of light beams that would fry flesh. It didn't seem to care. It did try to remove Talker's head.

Talker dodged and then slashed it's back armour. The shiny black plates held. Great. I hammered it with a pair of shadow bolts. It flinched back, but didn't retreat. This wasn't going so well.

That's when Talker smacked one of its big compound eyes with its sword. It shrieked, a terrible high-pitched sound and bolted up the wall and into the darkness. Talker and the survivors peered up into the darkness, watching for a reappearance. I leaned over, pulled my mask up, and puked.

Talker, the surviving boys, and I headed upstairs to report to the boss man. Lyze had taken over the audience chamber of whatever lord had run this place before the Lady and the Taken jumped out of the grave and started taking over. The dais was still there, but empty. Lyze and Brick were in standing around the table in the center of the room, looking at a plans of the castle. A couple of guys stood around on guard. Heads turned towards us as we came through the doors.

We weren't a pretty sight, still splattered with the blood of the dead. They weren't happy to see us. "What the fuck happened?" Brick rumbled. Lyze seemed content to let Brick do the talking for now.

"Talker tracked it down to the cellar," I said. "It hid in the stairwell and dropped on us. It's like a giant bladed centipede. Crossbows and swords didn't do dick to it. I whipped out a few magics, but they didn't bother it much. Talker did chop a leg."

"Then what the fuck good are you?" Brick said.

"Plenty," I said, "now that we've got a piece of it."

"The leg?" said Lyze, speaking for the first time.

"Yes," I replied. "I can whip up a tracking spell from it. And I'm pretty sure I know how its sneaking around."

"Oh?" said Lyze.

"It can shift its size. Hide and move around as small and shift up to attack."

"Size shifting?" said Brick skeptically. It was clear that all the wizard war shit he had been through, however much that was, still hadn't jostled loose some good hard headed pragmatic materialism. Too bad for him the world didn't work that way.

"One of the Taken wears the name Shapeshifter and you find size changing hard to swallow?" I asked sarcastically. Brick went pink, but didn't say anything.

"Okay," said Lyze. "Is this thing smart?"

"It's got at least the cunning of a predatory cat," I said. "Bare minimum. Probably smarter than most of the men in this castle."

"Will it know about sorcery?"

"Somewhat."

"So it might know that you can track it from its leg?" Oh shit, I hadn't though of that.

"Yeah," I said.

"That makes things easy then," said Lyze. "You try to whip up some magic that can hurt it and that tracking spell. In a place of my choosing."

Oh fuck. I had become bait for a killer demon. "Let me think," said Lyze. He turned to Brick and Talker. "Where's the best place in here to set a trap for this thing? And what tricks to bring to it?"

They got no chance to answer. Big black and mean was back, apparently deciding there was no time like the present to settle the business. The killer centipede smashed through the double doors, scythe blade mandibles flashing.

I whipped out a few magics, but they didn't bother us much

Us? Or It?


And I think the centipede just proved how smart it was... It tracked it's leg back to you.

I like this story. It feels like a noir story, in the way everyone is hard edged and pretty much playing an angle, as well as the no bullshit first person narration. I apreciate all the tough talking and how that even though Lyze might be somewhat of an asshole, at least he is competent.

Lets see how many survive the coming fight. Won't be pretty, I'm betting.

I scrambled back from the killer demon. "Keep that fucker away from me!" I yelled. "I need time!" I needed time to even think of something that would hurt this fucker. Currently I had nothing, except maybe the Door into Winter, which would kill everyone near it and maybe hurt it. Not an ideal choice.

Talker and two of the boys hit it from the side. Talker's blade scored an plate, but no one got through that armour. Another soldier tried to stab it in the remaining eye with his spear. The centipede bit off the head of the spear and then scissored its jaws into his chest. They tore through mail like mouldy cheese. Blood sprayed and he fell.

I began to whip something up on the fly. Talker took off another one of its legs and Lyze circled around to the other side, sword in hand. Talker bounced a blow off of its head and it turned and hissed at him. The barb backpedaled out of the reach of the flashing scythe blades. The soldier next to him wasn't so quick. The centipede severed his left leg just above his knee. He fell screaming.

Lyze stabbed the centipede in the gap between two plates. His sword didn't go very deep, but it drew ichor. Yellow fluid leaked out of the wound and the centipede trilled. It whipped its head around like a striking cobra. The scythe blades just missed Lyze.

I finished the spell. The air temperature dropped like a stone. Frost formed over the front half of the killer centipede. I could see everyone's breath gusting from their mouths. The centipede slowed, moving about half as fast as it had been.

Talker wound up and smacked it just below its head. The frozen armour plates cracked. It hissed and turned towards Talker. Brick stabbed it in one of the broken plates. His blade went deep. Yellow ichor jetted from the wound. He was a little slow getting his sword out of his wound. Too slow. The scythe blades severed his head. Blood fountained from his neck and he fell.

Lyze hacked it in one of the damaged plates. More ichor flew and the centipede reared back and trilled. It's rear legs went into reverse as it menaced us with is scythe blade mandible. I hit it with a heavy duty shadow bolt. More plates cracked. It turned and ran. Damn it was fast.

"Gaunt," said Lyze. "Get working on that tracking spell. I'm not going through that again."

"Got it chief."

"Talker, stand guard over him. The rest of you make sure everyone is up and armed. Let's finish this shit."

It took me a while to get it going, but I was able to whip up a tracking spell. Performing more subtle magic in a room full of heavily armed soldiers is not the easiest thing in existence. I also took the time to prepare a few tricks. I was pretty sure that thing wouldn't die easy.

"Ready yet?" Lyze barked.

"Almost," I said. "Just a little longer." He grumbled, but let me finish. Having figured out exactly what elements I needed to combine to get the right results, I set about casting the clever little thing. It took me about a minute, give or take. A ball of blue-white light floated above my hand when I finished. It began drifting out of the room.

"It'll lead us straight to the centipede thing," I said. Soldiers began leaving the room, following the ball.

"Let's kill this thing," Lyze said. The glowing ball lead us downstairs, back to the store rooms. It went down a corridor and stopped at a door. A soldier opened it and we followed it inside. It wobbled over to the back of the room where it hovered.

On closer examination there was a stone missing from the wall and a burrow that extended into the darkness. "Fuck," said Speedy.

Lyze eyeballed the situation and then started barking orders. "Guys with spears and halberds cover the hole. Get a trough and some of that oil for the siege cauldrons down here. Yesterday!"

It didn't take too long for the men to come back. They brought a trough from the stables, which Lyze had one end chopped off and propped up on barrels leading down to the hole. Then came the oil.

It wasn't just oil. Alchemists mixed in a few other things with it so it made a better incendiary weapon. They started to pour it into the trough, which ran down into the hole. After the first jar there was still some left in the bottom of the trough. "Light it," said Lyze.

A torch dipped down and fire ran down the length of the trough and into the hole. Fire billowed back, accompanied by a horrid scream. The centipede emerged from the hole, swelling as it did so. Flames covered its body, dripping down upon the floor. I dropped the hammer on it.

Intense cold blasted it, extinguishing the flames. Frost covered its body. I could hear the armour plates crack from the rabid temperature change. The spears jabbed in, punching through the cracked and brittle armour to sink into vulnerable flesh. It screamed again and flailed its legs, but it was no use. It couldn't bring its mandibles to bear.

"Hold it!" Lyze screamed. "The rest of you, stick that thing!" More spears and halberd blades sank into the creature's unnatural flesh. Yellow ichor poured from its wounds. Talker hefted his blade and advanced. He paused for and then cut. Ichor geysered from the wound. He struck again at the same point and then again. More ichor sprayed as he cut it in half.

The back half spasmed mindlessly, the front still twitched with malevolent intelligence. Sword, axes, and maces went to work on both halves, chopping and smashing them into still, dead pieces. It took a while, but it worked.

Lyze and I watched it happen. "Good work Gaunt," he said at the end. "Go clean up and get yourself some sleep. We ride in the morning."

"Where to?" I asked.

"Back to Ade. And then to wherever The Faceless Man wants us to go next. Unless you think the sorcerer is nearby, in which case we still have work."

"No reason he would be and no sign of it," I said. "If he could master this thing, easy enough to send it here and remain safe and comfortable somewhere else."

"What I thought. Go get cleaned. We won't quite be leaving at first light." I still had half a night left in which to get some sleep. Better than nothing. And soon enough I would be back with Jen. Things could be a lot worse. I started upstairs.