A Prison of Worlds (The Chained Worlds Chronicles Book 1) (17 page)

“Lady,
you really don't want to be there,” I coughed around my swollen lips.  I
started to sidestep trying to get a clear shot at the opening I punted the dark
knight through.

“Stop
fighting,” the elf shrieked.  “It was a terrible accident!”

“Of
course it was,” I responded, my voice sounding calm.  “Just like it's going to
be a terrible accident when I shove my sword up his tin plated ass and make his
eyes glow purple.”  Okay, so maybe I had a bit of pent-up hostility.

“He
thought you were one of my attackers and naturally took offense,” the lady
frantically exclaimed.

I
looked at her with lidded eyes.  A human’s head would have been practically
vaporized by the force of that first hit.  It brought new meaning to the term
overkill.  “That’s a lot of offense to take.”

“Sir
Faramond is most vociferous in defense of my honor as I wander through this
city.”

“So
I see,” I snarked, before I realized what she had said.  “Wait a minute.  That's
Faramond?”

“Aye,”
she stated more calmly now I wasn't marching towards the hole in the wall.

“The
same Faramond that claims he got his powers from the fairies.”

“Yes,”
she looked somewhat uncomfortable at this statement.

“He
guards you and doesn't even know the difference the difference between fairies
and elves?”

“I
am not truly an elf,” she stated, with some embarrassment.

“Well,
you sure ain't any fairy I know of.” I peered at her to verify her aura.  She
had a highly energetic aura, was probably a magic user, and sure looked like an
elf.

“I
am of the álfar,” she stated solemnly.

I
looked at her and frowned.  Part of that was from searching my memory for the
term, and some was due to the movement of rubble I heard in the next building
over.  “Isn't that a Norse elf?”

Now
it was her turn to frown.  “There is a distant relation; however our ancestors
are purer of blood.”  Ah, a racist elitist elf.  I see now.

“Hmm. 
Fascinating.  What brings you slumming to this world?”  The thrashing sound had
faded to be replaced by a stomping sound very similar to what I heard before
someone turned my face into hamburger.  “And what can I call you?”

“I
am known as Estella,” my eyebrows may have risen at this.  I had to give her
kudos for noticing under the layer of blood.  “It's been millennia since we
lived in Norway, what did you expect?  Helga?  What is your name?”

“Derek.” 
I silently did some rough calculations in my head and released the dumpster.  “And
what brings you here?” I prodded again.  At that moment, the swordsman stormed
out of the broken building and began a charge towards me.  He was interrupted
about ten feet away when the dumpster crashed on top of him.  From two hundred
feet up I am sure it stung at least a little.  I was impressed that the elf
didn't do more that flinch slightly.

“The
roots of the World Tree pass through this territory.  It is important to know
the area at the boundary of our home.”  I stared at her a moment trying to
dredge up the Norse lore I read and had discarded as not relevant.

“Does
that mean there is a periodic gateway to your realm in the area?”  I ventured
cautiously.

“Aye,”
she said distractedly, looking at the crumpled lump of metal and permacrete
that now engulfed her wayward protector.  I heard an uninterrupted string of coarse
curses coming from it.

Well,
how very convenient.  I had theorized that one possible way to break the anchor
rune was to use a portal to walk to another dimension rather than my usual direct
teleport.  It would either break the rune, kill me, or slingshot me straight to
the anchor Mr. Evil had set up in this dimension.  “When does the gate next
materialize?” I asked, trying to hide my enthusiasm.

“In
five years,” she replied.  My eagerness vanished.  That was less than
helpful.  

I
heard more tearing from the mangled remnants which brought my attention back to
the psycho knight next to us.  Supernatural creatures are resistant to direct
manipulation from magic and psionics; however, indirect manipulation works
pretty well.  I telekinetically grabbed the dumpster again and lifted it up. 
Since it was wrapped around Sir Clueless, it lifted him without interference. 

“Five
years!  Crap,” I exclaimed, somewhat put out.  Eventually, the big bad dragon
was going to come check on his experiment.  Probably not too soon; ancient
dragons are like the elders of most races.  Their sense of time slowly goes by
the wayside as the millennia stack up.  Still, five years is a bit of a gamble.  
I looked up at the sky and tried to get an accurate estimate of the time, while
I patted my jacket for a handkerchief to mop some of the blood off my face.  It
was after twelve which meant I was late to see the chief of the vampires.  That
can't be good.

A
crash sounded from above and an arm broke free of the improvised mold around Sir
Idiot.  As the dust and powder floated down, I set the floating mass spinning
as fast as my waning energy could.  I really should have been a little more
conservative of my power, but I had been really pissed.

“So
miss Hel... er, Estella I noticed that you have some expertise with magic,” I
subtly bring the conversation around to my interest while continuing to wipe the
blood off my face.  I think most of my face was back to normal, or at least I didn't
feel any fresh blood, but my mouth felt like I had lost one of my eyeteeth. 
Crap.  Did I mention that that crazy knight was the strongest thing I ever had
the displeasure to meet?

“Yes,
I have some expertise on elemental enchantment and of course all my kind are
skilled in illusion.  You look like you are still in pain, would you like me to
soothe it?”

I
gave her a flat stare.  Did she honestly think I would lower my innate spell
defenses to anyone, let alone a stranger?  A strange elf from Norway?  Not
happening.

“Eh,
no thanks,” I muttered.  A sharp pain was coming from one of my upper teeth.  Yep,
it was gone.  A new one was already starting to form.  Great, I was teething
now.  “Um, what kind of elemental magic?”

“I
have trained to become one with the elements, to me they are like a part of me and
I can...” the rest of her gushing faded away under my disappointed musings. 
Bah, sounded like she was some sort of mystic.  Become one with nature; she
just does it.  Flipping useless to me.  Though if I can ever find out enough to
get past the basics I may be able to reverse engineer those kind of spells,
given enough time.

As
she continued on about the joys of nature, I fished through my torn coat and
pulled out an extra card Jeremy had given me.  Usually, there's a tiny holographic
ad scrolling across it, but it must have gotten damaged in the flight through
the last three buildings, or maybe my aura shorted it.  Now it just shows Jeremy's
basic contact information that’s written on the card.  “I would love to hear
about your spell stuff, but I am really late for an appointment.” I handed her
the damaged card.  “Give Jeremy a call when you want to talk some more.”  I am
sure elves can figure out the phone system on this planet.  Unless the Nordic
elves were the slow ones.  I turned and started to briskly walk away.  I think
I hardly staggered at all.

“Goodbye
Derek,” she called after me, causing me to wince slightly.  She seemed a bit
bubbly for having been a mugging victim, but then again perhaps not having been
the one slammed through a few buildings was good for her attitude.

I
waved over my shoulder and called out, “Night Helga.”  I could tell when I left
the range to manipulate the dumpster when I heard a loud thundering crash
behind me.  I know it probably didn't even scratch the moron's armor, but it
did cheer me up a tiny bit.

Ten
minutes later I was out of the Blight and in front of the Tower Plaza
entrance.  Unlike the area that Kingston had laired in, this wasn't multiple
skyscrapers raising around the street.  There was just one massive building
that extended like a mountain above the entrance and many blocks on either
side.  The walls were obsidian, reflective but not really mirrored.  On either
side of the entrance were two large men dressed in tuxedos.  This was more than
a bit odd since I was pretty sure that style had gone out the way of the dodos
almost a hundred years ago.  Despite the recent resurgence in all things 20
^th
century, this looked a little too authentic.  I concentrated slightly to
examine their auras, and only got a swift glimpse of them before I was
staggered by a tremendous lancing pain in my skull.  My loose use of my talents
had finally come back to roost.  Groaning, I massaged my temples as I
approached the guards.

“I
am here to see the master of the city,” I told the nearest.  “I had an
appointment at midnight.”  The fellow stared at me expressionless for a few
seconds.  The brief flash I had of his aura before my brain had self-destructed
had shown him to be a middling powerful vampire.  Perhaps he had nodded off.  I
turned to the other one.  “Your friend seems to have fallen asleep.  Could you
let your boss know that Derek is here to see him?”  Another flash of agony
spearing through my head.  I was guessing that one of them had sent a
telepathic message to someone.  How useful it was to know that overuse of one's
talent could turn me into a mental detector.  Maybe I could learn how to Morse
code in screams.  I was about to turn and totter over to a bench for a well-deserved
sitdown when the first guard finally responded.

“Welcome
Mister... Derek,” He paused at my name.  I suppose most people have a last name,
but I never really saw a need for one.  “You are expected, although late.” 
This time I could feel his attention on me as he actually turned his head to
look at me.  “You seem injured, do you need assistance?”

I
suppose I did look like I had crawled into and out the other side of a meat
grinder, but my physical wounds were almost gone except my budding new tooth. 
It was just my brain that wanted to crawl into a deep hole and hibernate for a
week.  “Thanks, but no.  I could use a moment in a restroom though.”

“Please
enter.  Follow the lights,” the man commanded, and went back to ignoring me. 
Perhaps the sight of my blood offended him... or maybe since he was a vampire
he was concentrating on not jumping the tasty human.  Great, maybe I should
have cleaned up beforehand.  Shrugging to myself, I walked through the now open
doors to beard the lion in his lair.

I
stopped just inside in surprise.  The entrance was actually a huge atrium with
an outdoor motif.  Parts were made of meadows.  Further in was an actual forest
with some impressively sized trees.  Above us was a starlit night sky with a
full moon.  That kicked my sleepy brain into gear; the sky at least was a
hologram.  The trees and grass looked real, but since I was too pooped to
examine their auras, I suppose that the only way I would find out for sure
would be to go over and touch them.  To heck with that.  I just wanted go to my
meeting and then head to bed.  I hadn't planned on sleeping deeply for a few
more weeks, but tonight had really tuckered me out.

A
flash of light caught my attention and I turned to look at a softly glowing orb
of light gently bobbing in the nonexistent wind.  Wait a second, there actually
was a breeze and I think I really smelled grass.  I would expect this kind of
illusion from the shifters, if they had the money, not the vampires.  If I saw
puppies frolicking in the meadow, I wasn't sure if I could resist puking.  I
nodded in greeting to willow wisp.  “Take me to the restroom.”

It
bobbed sharply and headed off to the trees.  Following it, I admired the
scenery.  Honestly, it looked nicer than the government maintained parks in the
city and those were almost like camp grounds.  A little way into the trees a
bush sparkled and then reformed into a modest little door with a gentlemen's
symbol on it.  I walked in and noted a spacious but utilitarian bath room.  On
the far side was a door marked 'showers', but I simply went over to the sink
and examined the damage.  I had already known my clothes were trashed. My coat
was lying in tatters on me with copious dribbles of dried blood on it. 

Opening
up the front, I noted that the shirt I had underneath was in a much better
state.  Only small spots of blood and a few tears.  I think I may have gone through
the building headfirst, because my pants were almost free of damage.  Mostly
dusty.  I tossed the coat in the slot in the wall marked trash and patted my
clothes mostly free of concrete.  The cloud of waste I stirred into the air was
efficiently whisked away by the building's ventilation system.

Then
I examined my face.  It was caked in blood, but my flattened nose had
reconstructed itself and it now looked like someone had bled on me instead of the
other way around.  Appreciating the old fashioned water faucet instead of the
more common sonic cleaners most modern businesses used, I went to work
scrubbing my face and hair of the blood.  I understand all the supernaturals in
the city were encouraging the retro trend.  Not only did the sonic cleaning
drive them batty, but many of them were from simpler times and were actively
encouraging the fad since they felt more comfortable in that environment, regardless
of how ecologically unfriendly it was. 

The
water was briefly stained with red before running clear again.  After a few
minutes of soapy activity, I looked up again, and was able to see my face once
more.  A bit pale and tired, but definitely better.  I sighed, back to the work
at hand.

Exiting
the room, I saw the wisp bobbing in the air, patiently waiting for me.  As the
door faded behind me, I followed it deeper into the woods, where another door
appeared where a bush once was.  This one appeared to be an elevator.  The
doors slid to the side as I approached and I stepped in.  The inside was more
traditionally set in chrome.  Over the door, there were numbers, but there were
no controls.  I suppose you weren't coming up unless you were invited.

The
numbers above the door rapidly changed; however, I felt no movement.  I suppose
they could be using momentum compensation, but Jeremy said that it was
notoriously expensive and remarkably buggy unless you used the proprietary
systems in the air cars, which were for short sharp shocks.  Most had a
tendency to overcompensate if used for more than a moment, and after a brief
spike of over a hundred gravity force there wasn't much left of a human except
jelly glued to the wall.  I made a mental note not to let Jeremy visit.  A
minute later the door opened into a wide, though not absurdly large hallway. 
Unlike the atrium below, there were people bustling to and fro, obviously
having far more interesting things to do than look at me, though I think I did
draw a glance of disdain from a few.

The
glowing orb floated sedately down the corridor, and I followed behind while I
looked at all the people I was passing, trying to guess which ones were
vampires and which were humans.  I was pretty sure the ones that slinked down the
hall with superhuman grace were vampires, as were the ones wearing clothing
from the wrong era.  The others I really couldn't tell without making my brain
explode again.  Since the agony was just now dying down to a dull throb, it
wasn't really that hard to restrain my curiosity. 

After
a few minutes of trudging down seemingly endless corridors, I arrived at a
rather ornate double door.  The designs on the borders were reminiscent of
another era, something I suppose I would be getting used to if I dealt with
bloodsucking immortals long enough.

I
politely knocked once and walked in.  I may have acted a bit too soon, since a
middle aged gentleman, seated at a long dinner table more suited for a party of
twenty rather than one, was just waiving a manservant towards the door.  The
gentleman had graying temples, an elegant aristocratic nose, and a well-groomed
mustache.  He had what appeared to be a fluted glass full of wine in one hand
and a sheath of papers in the other.  With a raised eyebrow, he nodded towards
me.  “Won't you come in, Derek.”

“Greetings,”
I nodded and smiled.  It was obvious that this was more of a casual dining room
than an office.  “Are you Mr. Fiero?  Nice to meet you and...” My eyes swept
the rest of the table and took in the other two people at the table.  One was
an apparently young woman sitting demurely to the man's left.  She was a dark
haired European beauty dressed in the classic sleek black dinner formal.  To
her left sat a familiar looking vampire.  The smile left my face.

“I
see you recognize me,” the man stated dryly.

“Well,
you left a strong impression on me, despite our short acquaintance,” I replied
uncomfortably.  I did indeed know the man, since he had apparently tried to
assassinate me barely a day before.  He was dressed smartly in a black and
scarlet suit, having apparently abandoned his work suit and tie for something
more fashionable and less reduced to small rags. 

He
had come rather closer than I liked to success, and it occurred to me that I
was in a room with at least two very old vampires.  Perhaps three if the girl
was more than she appeared to be.  True, the vampire was more dangerous to me
due to his formidable dagger rather than his personal power, but if one old
vampire had a magical weapon there was no reason to think that other vampires
may not have similar tools.  The fact that he was here spun this encounter into
bit more of a sinister twist.  My eyes flickered from the assassin to the
master of the city.

“Well,
this puts a different bent on things,” I said mildly to Mr. Fiero.  “Does this
mean that you don't truly need my services?”  This might not only put a crimp
in my master plan but bode ill for my health.  Still no point in standing
around looking stupid.  I could be in a comfortable seat and achieve that.  I
shrugged to myself and sat at the corner of the table, where I had a nice view
of the three.  The woman smiled slightly at this while Mr. Fiero's rather bland
expression was interrupted by a facial tic.

“Actually,
Sebastian is visiting at my request,” the master's nodded in the assassin's
direction.  “I belatedly heard that he had... engaged his services and was
working at cross purposes to me.  I asked him here to ensure that all parties
knew that such behavior was ill advised, for the greater good of the city.  I
am sure there won't be any more troublesome incidents.”  At the last statement,
the pleasant look toward Sebastian turned sharp, before fading back to the
original pleasant mask.

I
nodded and smiled.  If I was to take it at face value it was all a happy
circumstance.  It also made a certain amount of sense that they wouldn't try to
kill me right after I had agreed to work for them.  Of course, it could be a
conspiracy.  Oh well, I would take the easiest route for the moment.  I was too
tired to overanalyze it at the moment.

“If
I had known that our master had plans in place, I would never have taken
actions against our interests,” Sebastian declared earnestly, one hand on his
chest and a devilish glint in his eyes.  Normally I appreciate sarcasm, but
since the bastard had come very close to seriously injuring me I was not an
appreciative audience.  “I will, of course, contact my employer and inform him
that I will have to forgo our agreement.”

“Don't
bother. I've already come to terms with him.  No doubt you'll hear from him
soon,” I stated shortly.  Then my nose caught the scent of something delightful. 
For the first time, I registered that the table actually had some food on it. 
Actually, it had a lot of food on it, mostly French cuisine I was not familiar enough
with except to know its nationality.  I looked at it and back to my host in
puzzlement.  Vampires don't eat, though they may drink almost anything.  Either
the female was not a vampire or this was intended as a more sociable setting
than I had thought.  Obviously Mr. Fiero noted where my attention was.

“I
apologize for the food not being as fresh as I would like.  I was expecting you
a little sooner.  You look a little worse for wear.  Did you run into any
problems?” he asked me politely, giving a minute look at our local psychopathic
killer.

“Yes,
well, I took a shortcut through the Blight and got jumped by a freaking fairy-lover,”
I grumped.  Maybe I was still a little bitter.  Sebastian's eyes narrowed, and
I could see he was thinking what was directly across Blight and at what time I
would have been at his employer's.

“Now,
now Derek isn't that a little bit close-minded of you?” the woman spoke up for
the first time.  I'm afraid I didn't really understand her reference so I
looked at her in puzzlement.

“Um,
no, not really.” I put it out of my mind and started piling my plate with the
food in front of me.  Apparently it was all for me and it seemed a pity to let
it go to waste.  “So, your fellow... what's his face, tell you what I needed
from you order to accomplish what you want?” I asked in between mouthfuls.

“I
admit he was somewhat incoherent.  He seemed to be recovering from some sort of
debilitating illness,” he stated slowly as he watched me eat with a slight
downward curl of his lip.