Chapter 5-134: Secrets to Keep, and Miles to go Before we Sleep (1/2)
Shvaughn looked impressed at the immediate Oath. “Who are Sama and Briggs?” she asked quickly. “This is not a secret I like to spread.”
“I believe ye met her already. Sama’s also called The Golden Hag,” The Mick promptly spoke up.
“What?!” Her eyes literally popped flames. “That bitch?!”
“Amazons instinctively loathe Hags,” I said to the boys out of the side of my mouth, taking in her angry expression. “What’d she do, beat you up?”
“There was a sword competition in Chicago a few years ago. It’s where I first met Shvaughn, actually,” The Mick answered, plainly amused. “Senpai Sama competed in it under The Golden Hag, won the whole thing. The only year Shvaughn didn’t, actually.”
The woman was fuming, but in control of herself. “How’d you do?” I had to ask.
“Ah, I got knocked out by a Storm stylist in the second round, who made it all the way to the fourth before Shvaughn beat him, chasing him all over the circle with a flaming sword. I laughed for half the fight watching him trying to get away.” He grinned despite himself, and the Grandmaster blessed him with a smile and laugh, clearly recalling the fight, too.
“Sama’s probably the most dangerous swordmaster on the planet, so you losing to her is no different than another Warlock losing to you... and I rather doubt any Warlock can beat you in terms of Wrath,” I pointed out to her.
Mollified a little, she tossed her burning hair back, still a bit disgruntled. “And who is this Briggs?”
“The most dangerous Hammer wielder on the planet. An armored hulk of an Ancient who can definitely beat you at arm-wrestling. He and Sama are a Team Supreme, and it’s not going to be a good idea to get on either one of their bad sides.”
She studied my face, contemplating that, dipped her gaze to the Shards that were still showing, and made a judgement call, looking at Master Fred.
Fred nodded slowly. She looked a little impressed, glancing at The Mick, who also nodded. Those two were definitely not people to mess around with...
“I have a feeling I’ve stumbled into something momentous here... which, if what I’ve been hearing of the stuff coming out of Detroit you’re in the middle of has any truth to it, is why I agreed to come in the first place!” She turned back to look at me, weighing things. “Do you know how much of a tizzy you’re creating in the halls of the College of True Magic?” she smiled in approval.
“At least ninety-four goldweight and counting,” I answered, which only made her smile more at the spells-hunger of the Uruthimi masters of the College. “True Magic my finely curved arse,” I sniffed loftily, and she actually laughed again.
“All right, I’m in, although why you even asked me to come...” She clapped her hands together.
“Don’t play dumb,” I chided her, being perfectly aware of the potential of a Hungry Heart Warlock. “What is the name of the Temple they are holding my son in?”
“You’re killing me here. How am I supposed to play a slightly ditzy glamour-babe if you keep expecting me to show how smart I am?” she sighed to me theatrically. “They call it the Shrine of the True End. It churns out the Ebon Blood, Starving Tongue, Withered Heart, and Hands of Murder Pacts. The Pact Grantor is a powerful creature that changes its appearance, and has access to some pretty powerful magic.”
“Most of the Grantors do,” I agreed. “The Angelos believes it is a Matrixoth, a Greater Daemon of Famine, although not a powerful member of the species, or it would have a much greater presence.” And very shortly wouldn’t be at all a match for the Angelos...
She gave me another funny look. “I consider myself one of the most-informed occultists on the planet, and I have no idea what that is.”
“Have you ever sat down with one of the otherplanars and had a good, long discussion about just what kind of creatures are out there, instead of dribblings from madmen, idiots swearing a Pact completely overwhelmed by them, or clueless observers who had no idea what they were really looking at?” I asked archly.
She put on a thoughtful face. “Once you put it that way...”
“I’ll fill you in on the reality outside the planet. Lord Mick, give her your keys.”
He complied instantly, despite the look on his face, and she looked equally amused as she caught the tossed keychain. “And why am I driving the sexmobile?” she had to ask, which did get an appreciative grin from The Mick.
I reached behind my back to the Masspack laying almost unnoticed there, and pulled out a small Tome bound in bloody velvet. “I made The Mick a promise for when I hit Five, which I did yesterday. I spent a couple hours writing this out... it’s time to give him some magic lessons.”
The Mick’s black eyes went totally and utterly crimson, glowing with a strange hunger as he stared at the book. “The principles of Blood Magic?...” he trailed off meaningfully.
“You’re going to be taking lessons in the back seat, while she drives. Let’s see how good a student you are.”
Master Fred only looked amused. I was sure he understood the innuendo, and equally sure he knew it was harmless flirting. There was nothing going on between us.
“Lady Traveler, you will have my full and undivided attention,” he assured me, bowing to the waist slowly, and meaning every bit of it.
“Let’s get you started on a formal refinement of that muck you call not-dark-magic Wizardry, and wile away some hours on the road.”
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