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A KILLING IN THE AIR - Book 1 of the Further Adventures of Bander

Third Edition - September 2012

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2012 by Bogwood, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced, stored in

a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, translating, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Cover by The Trixie Agency incorporating original photos by Lena Sanver, stock.xchng and hslo, Creative Commons.

A Killing in the Air

3

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A Killing in the AirTHE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF BANDER

EPISODE 1

by Randy Nargi

To my fellow adventurers, Michael and Tom


4

TOBIN WOKE UP—ALTHOUGH HE WISHED HE HADN’T. A rough cloth sack was bound tightly around his face and neck, obscuring his vision. He could taste blood in his mouth. His arms and legs were restrained somehow. And his head ached from hanging upside-down.

He shifted his weight and tested his bonds. His skin pressed against the cool metal and his worst fears were one step closer to being confirmed. He cleared his mind, began breathing deeply, and tried to tap into the magical energy around him. Nothing.

It was as he dreaded. The shackles that held him were made of relorcan, a rare metal, yet exceptionally effective in disrupting the flow of magical energy.

“He stirs,” a voice said. Not deep. Not threatening. Just matter-of-fact. With a hint of rangelands accent.

“Time?” Another voice. One word spoken, but it was with authority.“They are just leaving the north entrance.”“Well, he woke just in time, I’d say. Make the preparations.”Tobin felt his arms and legs jerk together, like a stag being trussed

for slaughter. His body swung in the air. He considered briefly making a plea for his life, but dismissed the thought. He knew who held him and he also knew why. They were not interested in pleas.

“They’ve reached the statue,” a third voice said. This voice was lighter, younger.

“Keep clear. On my mark.”Tobin heard the men shuffle away. A cool breeze blew through the

sack and he felt the salt air on his face. He cleared his mind once more. Not to attempt to invoke magic, but to make peace with the universe.

“Now,” the authoritative voice commanded.Tobin’s body jerked savagely and he was flung 100 yards into the air.

Mercifully he lost consciousness before he hit the ground.* * *


5

A FORTNIGHT LATER, A TALL, GREY-EYED MAN NAMED BANDER walked through the trees on the outskirts of the Matham Wood west of Lhawster. He had been on the road for nearly a month and was down to his last few silver coins. Not that he spent a lot during his travels. Bander lived very simply these days. And he lived to walk.

After two decades as an Imperial Guard in Rundlun, Bander was sick of seeing nothing but city walls. So when he mustered out three years ago at the rank of Red Shoulder Captain, Bander decided he’d spend the rest of his days wandering Harion—from Waterside to Laketon to Lhawster to Kreed’s Keep to The Steading to Rundlun to Hamwick and then back to Waterside. It was a loop that ran nearly 2,000 leagues and took him an entire year to complete, but Bander treasured every step. He did, however, like to travel unencumbered—and that meant caching coins outside of each major city he visited. It wasn’t that Bander was concerned about robbers and highwaymen—it was more that he didn’t want to pay the tax levied on gold being transported into each city.

Bander made sure he was alone, then sought out a particular hollowed log next to a boulder as tall as he was. Hoping there was nothing inside that might sink its fangs into his fingers, Bander reached into the log. He felt a braided cord and tugged it, extracting a oilskin pouch from its hiding place. Inside were enough regmarks to keep him in food, drink, and amusement for the two weeks he would be in Lhawster. Or at least that’s what he expected to be in the pouch. Instead there were a dozen rocks. And a flat slab of crystal the size of his hand.

Bander gripped his shortstaff and scanned the area. He didn’t believe that whoever stole his cache would be stupid enough to remain in the vicinity, but he needed a few moments to calm himself so that he could assess the situation. He spiraled out a few hundred yards from the log, looking for tracks. Bander wasn’t a ranger by any means—not even an amateur one—but he’d become more familiar with signs of the forest since he began his wandering. But there were no telltale broken branches, no bits of cloth, no bootprints that he could detect.


6

The wind began to pick up and the clouds swirled above his head. Bander gathered his pack and the pouch and angled back towards the trade road to Lhawster. It was close to noon and the city was probably a couple of leagues away. As he walked, it dawned on Bander that he now had a bit of a problem. His few remaining silver pieces would not last long in Lhawster. Maybe a day’s worth of food and lodging. He wondered if the crystal in his pouch had any value. It was certainly left for a reason. Perhaps to trade for the gold?

He stopped by a boulder, sat down, and removed the crystal from his pouch. It was a slab as thick as his thumb, sliced from a much larger piece, and polished on one face. The sun filtered by the darkening clouds caused the crystal to act as a poor mirror, but still Bander could see his own face in the stone, grey-streaked beard, thick eyebrows, and curious steel-grey eyes. But then Bander saw something else in the crystal. It almost looked like stars in a night sky, swirling and blinking in and out. And then another face stared at him. It was the round face of a young woman. She was frowning at him. A single moment before the woman spoke, Bander understood what he was holding. A scrying crystal. And it was worth much more than the gold in his pouch. In fact, it was worth ten times more than all the gold in all his pouches spread throughout Harion.

“Bander of Rundlun,” the young woman intoned in a serious voice. “I am Silbra Dal of the White, representing the Guild at the House of Asryn. Your presence is requested in Waterside.”

Bander could hear her voice as clearly as if she were standing beside him. Now that he understood what he was dealing with, his usual insouciance asserted itself. “Waterside? Truly? You stole my gold. Why would I go to Waterside?”

Another voice from within the crystal answered. “Because I asked you to…”

It was a voice Bander recognized at once—even after 17 years. Through the crystal, a tall, gaunt woman stepped into view. She was still beautiful, but the years had sucked the color from her hair and her


7

complexion. It was Vala. She nodded at Bander once, then walked out of view like a ghost.

Silbra Dal instructed Bander to journey to Lhawster and make his way to the Gold Quarter. There he sought out a man named Harnotis Kodd, a wizard who lived in a lavish estate on Adelward Lane. Kodd was fat and old, likely past his 60th year, but he had a cunning look in his eyes that was not diminished in any way by his age. As per the young woman’s instructions, Bander gave Kodd the scrying crystal and then accompanied him to a workroom in the back of the main house.

Without much ceremony, Kodd created a portal to Waterside which Bander stepped through. And just like that he was back in the city he left nearly seven weeks ago. Over 350 leagues traveled in less than a second. Private portals were not cheap, Bander mused. Someone must want him here very much.

* * *The room that he found himself in was large and adorned with six

stone pillars. By the looks of the pennants and tapestries on the wall, he was in some sort of royal hall—most likely in a wing of the Lord Governor’s mansion. An echo of boots from behind him alerted Bander to someone entering the hall. He turned to see Vala. He knew better than to try to embrace the tall warrior, so he contented himself with studying her visage. In person her long grey-silver hair and pale, lined face were much more pleasant than the image he saw in the scrying crystal. He noticed that she was wearing ornamental jewelry—rings in her ears and on her fingers as well as other bangles, necklaces, and baubles. She never used to wear jewelry, claiming that it might give an enemy something to grab on to. Now it appeared that she was either very confident in her combat abilities, or she just didn’t care. And while Bander was studying Vala, she was studying him. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Tobin is dead.”Bander shut his eyes and sat down on a stone bench. He didn’t say

anything for a long time.Vala continued, “He was murdered. And not how you think—”


8

“Tell me everything. From the beginning.”“We are still unsure about much of what happened, but here’s what

we do know. On the morning of the fifteen day of Lenting someone abducted Tobin from his quarters, beat him, bound him in relorcan manacles, and strung him up on one of the old catapults on the Great Lawn outside the Lord Governor’s mansion. Then they shot him over a wall and into a crowd watching the Summer Finding Day parade.”

Bander took a deep breath.“Tobin was dead when he hit the ground,” Vala continued. “It was

a half day later until we were able to identify him. At that point any attempts at revival proved fruitless. I had my men search the area around the catapult as well as Tobin’s quarters and his office in the Esoterium, but we didn’t find anything. The catapult itself was burned, so the mages weren’t able to pull any traces off of it.”

Bander asked Vala to repeat everything one more time. The he sat in silence for several minutes. Thinking. Finally, he said “The manacles are what confuse me.”

Relorcan was a rare and expensive material. Constabularies in most cities and larger towns might have relorcan manacles, but smaller towns and hamlets typically were unable to afford them. They were certainly something you wouldn’t discard—even if you were making a statement with your murder.

“It’s not unreasonable to think Tobin had some well-financed enemies,” Vala said. “If you think about it, we all do.”

Bander did think about it, but he couldn’t come up with anyone who might pay a large sum to kill him. He just wasn’t worth it.

“We’ve been at it for weeks. I need your help with this.”“The trail is too cold.”“I know…there were delays…bureaucracy…and you’re not an easy

man to find.”Bander nodded. He gave up investigation three years ago, but he

couldn’t say no to this. “Show me where he lived.”


9

As they walked through the park-like grounds of the Palace District, Bander and Vala fell into a comfortable conversation. Bander had some vague recollection that Vala had served in the Guard, but now he learned that she was employed by Lord Governor Asryn as First Man (or in this case ‘First Woman’) of the Falward, Asryn’s secret police organization. The Falward, which many likened to the old Order of the Gargoyle, had a reputation for brutality and although Vala’s demeanor was naturally cold and reserved, Bander had a hard time seeing her as the head of the Falward. Still, judging by the fine cloth of her cloak and the South Plains leather of her boots, Vala was doing well in her position. So something was working.

She led Bander to a relatively new part of the palace complex devoted to magical research: the Esoterium. Tall walls, manned by guardsmen, surrounded a half dozen small buildings and a barracks.

“This was the old prison…” Bander mused. He didn’t add that he spent more than one night behind bars in the old Waterside facility back when he was much younger.

“Yes. They tore it down and built the Esoterium six years ago. It was one of Asryn’s first acts as new Lord Governor.”

Even down in the capitol he had heard of the grand aspirations of Abuth Asryn IV, part of the so-called “New Blood of the North,” a loose affiliation of politicians who were determined to advance society through magical research. And although many in the Imperial Court were skeptical, Asryn and his cohorts ultimately convinced the Emperor that it was prudent to devote resources to counter the magical aspirations of the rival realms of Kaarna, Triscar, Gadmark, and the Tengan Territories.

“And is it producing anything?” asked Bander. “Or is it some sort of boondoggle designed to fill the coffers of Meomannan Quill?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask,” said Vala. “I don’t get involved in politics.”

“We’re all involved,” Bander said. “Whether you think so or not.”The barracks turned out to be a series of maze-like hallways

connecting suites of private rooms for the magical researchers as well as


10

group quarters for a special detachment of guardsmen assigned to security duty.

“Pretty tight,” Bander nodded as they made their way through the barracks. “Who’s in charge here?”

“Rolo Caldward. He’s an old-timer. Came up with Asryn from Rundlun.”

“Let’s have a chat with him.”“That’s already on the agenda. You need a brooch anyway. And

there’s paperwork. This whole place runs on paper. But first, let’s take a look at Tobin’s quarters.”

Vala steered Bander down a corridor which ended in a light wooden door which was normally unlocked, but was now guarded by one of Vala’s men. “No locks,” she explained. “We assumed that with everyone around—not to mention the wards, we didn’t have to deal with locks. Of course some of the mages installed their own, but Tobin didn’t.”

“I doubt it would have made a difference. He was taken from here?”“As far as we can tell, but you see how impossible that is. We’re in a

secure building within a fort within a walled district. It’s guarded by forty men and a few dozen of the most powerful wards in the city.” Vala touched her fingers to the wood-paneled walls. “Relorcan veins run through the building. No one can teleport in or out.”

“Truly?”“Asryn spared no expense. Or Aglaard Shie demanded it. He’s the

administrator.”Bander nodded. He had heard the name before.“There are even a bunch of faerlings around. Somewhere.”

Faerlings were semi-intelligent ape-like creatures which had a unique ability. They could detect human thoughts, which made them a welcome addition to guard stations.

Vala approached the guard. “All quiet?”“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped aside.


11

Inside, Tobin’s chambers were pretty much what Bander expected. Clean, simple, functional. The mage had lived by a spartan philosophy. He had purposely avoided excess in all its forms. Which made him unpopular at celebrations, but a smart, dedicated researcher and a much-valued member of the kind of team both Bander and Vala had been a part of all those years ago.

As he examined the room, Bander could sense his friend’s presence. He touched the melted candles by the bedside, opened up the tall wardrobe and went through Tobin’s clothing, then examined some of the books on a heavy bookshelf near the door. Nothing looked out of place. But, as expected, there also was nothing personal in the room. No trophies. No paintings. No love letters.

Bander felt Vala watching him as he continued looking around the room. She and Tobin were very similar. Both had little use for emotion. In Vala’s case, it was due to a traumatic episode that had torn her life apart when she was a young girl. In Tobin’s case, his austerity had been a choice.

“Were you the one who brought him to Asryn?” Bander asked. “Recommend him?”

“I had nothing to do with that. He just showed up one day. I saw him in the mess hall talking with Shie. He saw me across the chamber and it registered on his face. Not surprise, you know—”

Bander smiled. “No. Never surprise. Did he do that eyebrow arching…?”

“Yes.” Vala almost smiled back, but she didn’t. “Anyway, we talked a lot that night. He watched me get drunk. It took a while.”

“I bet.”“Then I went back to my chambers. I saw him maybe four or five

times after that. We had dinner a few times. But…”“It wasn’t the same.”Vala nodded. “It never is. Never can be.”“What about me? Do I get a couple of fine meals out of this?”


12

“Certainly. At least you like to get drunk.” Again, she almost smiled. “Let’s find Caldward.”

* * *Master Rolo Caldward wasn’t hard to track down. There was a

guard office on the other side of the barracks. Caldward was there with a adjutant going over the details of providing security to a supply caravan coming in from the south. He was a heavyset man of around 50 years of age with a red complexion. To Bander, he didn’t look military at all. There was a softness about him.

Vala introduced the two men. Caldward looked Bander up and down, but mostly down before mentioning that he knew Bander’s commander, Tad Stircas. Bander despised Stircas so the name dropping had no real effect, other than to confirm Bander’s initial assessment that Caldward was an ass.

“This has dragged on for far too long,” Caldward said. “Naturally, the Lord Governor is very troubled by this turn of events, but we can’t let the nature of this misfortune affect the important work that’s being undertaken here.”

“Bander’s particular expertise is in the investigation of…sensitive…matters,” Vala explained.

“Yes, yes.” Caldward’s hands fluttered. “We’ve all read about your exploits down south, Captain. But we must have—will have—this matter resolved quickly. The mages are under the belief that Tobin Leroth’s past caught up with him. A vendetta of sorts. Natural, given his background.” Caldward’s eyes narrowed and Bander could tell that the fat man was thinking about both Bander and Vala’s questionable past.

“In my experience, you have to be honest with mages,” said Bander. “Their heads may be in their spell books, but even their fleeting thoughts find the truth rather quickly.”

“Our mages believe what they are told to believe,” Caldward said. “The Lord Governor’s generous donations to the Guild ensure that. Still, we will not abide distractions and time is of the essence. The next time


13

we speak, I look forward to hearing what you’ve uncovered about this vendetta.” He waved his hands again, dismissing them.

Vala and Bander left Caldward’s office and went down the hall where another adjutant forced him to endure paperwork and briefing on the rules and regulations pertaining to his assignment. Finally he was rewarded with a palace brooch, signifying that he was on the Lord Governor’s official business and had freedom to enter most areas within the city.

“I think I’m ready for that drink,” he said as they departed the guard office.

“One more stop. The laboratory where Tobin worked. We’re meeting Silbra Dal there.”

“The girl mage?”Vala glared at him. “That ‘girl’ is a fifth adept of the White. She

was sent by Ramipoor himself as the Guild Representative.”“I was wondering when the conversation would get around to the

Guild.”“Initially it was a very short conversation, believe me. It was only

through the intervention of Aglaard Shie that they allowed me three days to investigate this—”

“Three days? No one said anything about three days. Tobin deserves more than—”

“Exactly. And that’s the only reason we’re involved at all.”“You’re wrong,” said Bander. “The reason we’re involved is that the

Mage Guild hasn’t been able to solve this themselves.”Vala didn’t reply to that. She just walked more quickly towards the

lab.* * *

The young sorceress met them beside a large fountain in a courtyard between two buildings. Without any sort of preamble, she began a tour of the facility.


14

“The lab itself is divided into two areas: research and testing. Tobin Leroth worked in the theoretical magic division, so he spent much of his time in the East Library here,” Silbra Dal gestured towards a single-story brick structure across the courtyard.

Bander had no idea of the nature of Tobin’s particular project other than it had been almost certainly related to combat magic. He asked Silbra Dal for more details, but as expected, she “respectfully declined to answer.” Instead she brought them inside the sunny East Library and introduced them to two mages who worked with Tobin.

The older of the two was a grey-haired, bearded man from the South named Eaith Garfaen. He had an annoying habit of not meeting anyone’s gaze when conversing. Instead he would look off in the distance—as if blind (which he wasn’t). His famulus apprentice was more jovial: an eager young man named Hal Deorr—originally from Vale. Both mages expressed the requisite sympathy for the loss of Tobin, but it was clear that their relationship was simply professional. Tobin had kept to himself, even among the mages.

As the grey-haired mage hastened to remind them, he and Hal had been fully interrogated by the Falward as well as by the Guild Representative. Their answers remained the same: “No, Tobin Leroth had not been acting oddly. No, he hadn’t received visitors recently. And no, there had not been any unusual developments in the research.”

Before Bander could pose another question, there was a loud, low boom and an explosion rocked the courtyard. Books tumbled from the shelves of the library and the air swirled thick with dust. Outside, cries of alarm echoed throughout the yard. Bander and Vala raced to the window. Across the narrow courtyard, heavy black smoke billowed from a collapsed wall of the testing lab. Mages scattered like chickens. From the smoke a fiery creature emerged. It was humanoid, but stood half again as tall as a man. Flames billowed from its body as it raged through the courtyard, smashing ornamental planters and stone benches.

“A construct is loose,” hissed the older mage. “Flee!”Bander and Vala did just the opposite; they barreled out of the

library into the courtyard, weapons readied. But between Bander’s


15

shortstaff and Vala’s sword, they were not at all equipped to deal with something that projected flames out as far as a man’s outstretched arm. There was no way to get close enough to strike the creature.

Bander spied the fountain in the middle of the courtyard and got an idea. He scooped up a chunk of broken brick and hurled it at the construct. It struck the creature in a fiery spray of sparks. The creature turned toward Bander and registered him as a foe.

Whump! Following Bander’s lead, Vala pitched a brick of her own into the construct. “What are we doing?” she screamed to Bander.

“Follow me!” He struck the firespawn with another brick and it began to lope towards them. Vala continued the barrage.

Bander and Vala led the fire construct towards the fountain, which featured a statue of Vargir in a low pool about five yards across. Bander leapt into the pool and waved his arms menacingly at the construct. As he had hoped, the creature’s elemental nature precluded much reasoning on its part. The construct chased after him—right into a large volume of water—which instantly plumed into scalding steam.

Bander threw his body out of the fountain and rolled painfully on the ground. He looked up—hoping to see the creature writhing in pain from the water, but no such luck. Its fire had burned all the water away—with no damage to the construct. If anything, the firespawn was raging even more violently.

The creature sprang from the nearly-empty fountain and loomed up over Bander’s prone form.

But suddenly a blast of magic energy struck the construct and enveloped it in a swirling plasma sphere. Bander glanced over to see Silbra Dal locked in concentration, binding the creature with a holding spell. A group of mages quickly joined their spells with hers and soon the construct was sent back to whatever plane it had come from.

“Did you really think that would work?” Vala muttered to Bander. Before he could answer, she turned to help Silbra Dal to one of the

undamaged benches. Clearly the effort had drained the young sorceress.


16

Still, Bander was impressed. She had immobilized the construct before any of the other mages could act. That took a lot of courage.

Two guardsmen escorted Silbra Dal back to her quarters to recuperate, while Vala brought Bander to the Falward barracks just north of the Esoterium. They had to go slowly while Bander tried to walk off the pain from his strained muscles.

Inside the barracks, not far from Vala’s quarters, was a series of bunk rooms. Vala led him to a small room at the end of the hall which contained six beds. Three were unused.

“Sorry we don’t have anything more comfortable,” Vala said. “As part of my reorganization, I wanted to strip away all the trappings of entitlement. Get back to soldiering.”

“This is luxury to me,” Bander sat down on one of the beds.“Well, I can at least offer you some clean clothes…”“I’m not sure we’re the same size.”Vala didn’t smile. “There’s a supply room down the hallway. Yarden

is the quartermaster. He’ll provide you with dress clothes and give you some healing salve. He’ll also direct you to the baths and our barber.”

“I came here to solve a murder—not win a pageant.”Vala shrugged. “It would be disrespectful to meet the Lord

Governor looking like you do.”* * *

After Vala left, Bander did indeed follow her directions and cleaned himself up. Yarden, the quartermaster, initially had a difficult time finding a dress jerkin and breeches that would fit Bander’s large frame, but was able to cobble something together and make some quick alterations.

“You’ve seen some combat,” Yarden said, noting the thick scars that crisscrossed Bander’s shoulder, chest, and abdomen. “Don’t bleed on these clothes. I’ll be wanting them back in the morning.”

“I’ll try not to,” Bander said.


17

With two hours to wait before the Lord Governor’s reception and fearing his muscles might cramp up without exercise, Bander decided to walk the grounds of the Lord Governor’s estate. Known as the Palace District and effectively a walled city-within-a-city, the estate was built on the site of the old Waterside citadel. Bander had already seen parts of it: the Esoterium complex, barracks, training grounds, and armory, but he also discovered parks, orchards, warehouses, stables, residential areas (including a guest embassy), the Lawhouse complex of courtrooms and the new Waterside prison, and a small village of workers called Craftertown which primarily supplied the estate and government’s goods and services.

As dusk began to fall, he straightened his borrowed clothes and made his way to the Lord Governor’s mansion, which was truly more of a palace. In fact, the old Stronghold of the Seas fortress, which predated the actual city of Waterside, served as the foundation for the mansion. Bander entered between double sets of thick walls and strolled into a stately hall crowded with nobles and dignitaries. The smell of roasted meats and fresh-baked bread blended with incense and perfume hit Bander as he made his way deeper into the mansion. His ears, used to the relative quiet of the empty road, were assaulted by the combined hubbub of a few hundred guests trying to be heard over the music and singing of troubadours.

Bander scanned the throng of partygoers for Vala. He knew that she shared his discomfort of events such as these. She’d likely be on the fringes of the crowd, biding her time until she could politely depart.

“A drink, sir?” asked a voice at his elbow. Bander turned to see Silbra Dal, dressed in a shimmering dress robe with lace trim. She offered a goblet of wine to him with an enigmatic smile. He bowed slightly, took the goblet, and toasted to her health.

“That was quite a display in the Esoterium,” he said. “You work quickly, Mistress.”

“The mages were careless, I’m afraid. And woefully ignorant of the proper conjuration procedures for a fire construct of that magnitude. There will, of course, be repercussions…”


18

“And will there be repercussions for the death of Tobin Leroth?”“Of course,” she said. “As soon as you help identify those

responsible. The Guild will proceed from there.”Bander took another sip of the wine. It was rich and oaky. Much

finer than the varieties he usually drank. “And has the Guild exhausted its own inquiries?”

“Not at all, Captain. As you know, it can be most helpful to view a problem from several vantage points.”

“Ah, I take it that I am a vantage point of sorts…?”“Don’t be modest, sir. Your investigation of the Walding kidnapping

is being taught as a case study at the Academy. You broke the Fullscoppe case, saved the Regent, located the Talisman of Lystwin— shall I go on?”

“All ancient history. As you know I’ve spent the last three years on an extended jaunt, and the only mysteries I’ve contemplated are why we don’t ever see baby pigeons or what gets planted to grow Iorlian seedless grapes—”

“Still, an inquisitive mind remains an inquisitive mind…” She favored him again with a half-smile.

“I suppose. Although, as you know, Tobin was an old friend. Of mine and Vala’s.”

“I am aware of the relationship. You believe that to be an impediment to your investigation?”

“Don’t you? We will hardly approach this case with the detachment necessary to—”

She cut him off. “Detachment? That is the last thing the Guild wants from you. It is precisely because of your feelings for Tobin Leroth that you are the right man for the job. Tell me truly, would you be here just to collect the gold we’re offering?”

Bander knew she was right. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, then drained his goblet. “Thank you for the wine, Mistress. Please excuse me.”


19

She nodded at him and Bander continued to weave his way deeper into the crowd of revelers. The hall splintered off into corridors, alcoves, and passages—all filled with small groups of celebrants. Bander helped himself to another goblet of wine from a serving girl and leaned up against the cool stone of a marble pillar.

He tried to block out the noise and the smoke and the glow of hundreds of colored lanterns strung throughout the hall. And then he saw Vala as she stepped from the shadows in an alcove ten yards away. She was dressed in a gown of violet sheercloth with her hair twisted and pleated into a formal style. A nobleman, tall and dark, stepped beside her. It looked like they were in the middle of a conversation, but needed to step away from the crowd to hear one another.

Bander pushed towards them, catching Vala’s eye while he was still a few yards away.

“There you are,” she said, almost shouting. “I was worried that the prospect of attending the Lord Governor’s reception made you hightail it back to Lhawster.”

“Not yet, but the night is still young.”Vala turned to the nobleman. “Lord Lagurian, may I present

Bander, former Captain of the Imperial Guard—”Lagurian fixed Bander with an amused look and smiled. His teeth

were enormous and reminded Bander of a gelding he once had named Dusty. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“And I yours, sir.”“Lord Lagurian sits on the council of our friend in Laketon,” Vala

said.“Really?”“He is Eresthar’s Magister of the Measure.” Bryn Eresthar was the

one-time Lord Governor of Waterside and now Lord Governor of Laketon, the only man in ten generations to rule two different city-states at different times. He was also an old friend of Bander, Vala, and Tobin.

“Does Bryn know about Tobin?” Bander asked.


20

“Yes,” said Lagurian. “The Lord Governor is very troubled by the news. He is meeting with the Emperor this week else he would certainly be here himself.”

Bander nodded. He saw his friend several times a year during his travels and noted that the man seemed to be increasingly weighed down by the demands of his office. In fact he had been away on state business when Bander passed through the city last month.

Vala patted her hair, which seemed like a very foreign gesture to her. “Bryn doesn’t know that you are here,” she said to Bander.

“Probably for the best,” Bander said. “There would be no keeping him away if he knew.”

“So Captain, have you made any progress?” asked Lagurian.“Bander has arrived here only today,” Vala said. “He will—”At that moment the din of the crowd subsided and Bander turned

to see the partygoers make way for Lord Governor Abuth Asryn IV and his entourage. Asryn, who fancied himself a “man of the people” took every opportunity to clasp hands, slap backs, or kiss the hands or cheeks of ladies as he passed through the hall.

Vala hastily excused herself to Lagurian and led Bander off to follow the Lord Governor’s entourage into a private chamber. Bander was stopped at the door briefly by the head of Asryn’s personal bodyguard, a thick, hulking man named Neeth. “He’s with me,” Vala said as she strode into the chamber.

It was a relatively small room compared to others in the manor, perhaps ten yards wide and fifteen long. The several dozen members of Asryn’s entourage as well as other hangers-on quickly filled the space and so the room was nearly as crowded as the hall outside.

“There’s my girl!” Lord Governor Asryn proclaimed when he noticed Vala. Asryn was a short man, but loud. His family owned vast cattle holdings in the Southeast and was very wealthy, though Abuth Asryn IV wanted everyone to believe that if he wasn’t doing his duty as the Lord Governor of the most powerful city-state in the realm then he’d be back on a ranch in the Steading, wrangling steers or some such.


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“Your Grace,” Vala bowed. “May I present Bander of Rundlun, former Captain of the Imperial Guard, here to assist in the investigation of Tobin Leroth’s murder.”

Bander bowed deeply. “Your Grace, I am your servant.”“Aww, we’ll have none of that. The pomp and ceremony stops at the

door. Let me get a look at you, son.” Although the Lord Governor was a good decade younger than both Bander and Vala, he insisted on adopting the demeanor of a friendly older uncle with them and just about everyone he met.

“Bad business with the mage. Bad business.”“Indeed, your Grace. Please rest assured that we shall discover who

is responsible.”“Did you know the man?”“Yes, your Grace. Tobin Leroth was an old and dear friend. Before I

joined the Imperial Guard, Tobin, Vala, and I had the honor of escorting Lord Governor Eresthar through the Tenga Wilderlands. But that was many, many years ago…”

“Ha, Eresthar. I bet he was whining for his mama the whole way—”Bander smiled. “I do recall a bit of whining when we became

trapped in the Temple of Tamoa.”Asryn barked out a laugh and clasped Bander’s shoulder. “I like this

man!” He sloshed a goblet into Bander’s hand. “Drink up!”“Thank you, my Grace.”“Aye, a good bottle that. Not like the swill we’re serving out there.”

He laughed again and took a swig of his own wine. Then the Lord Governor’s voice became quiet. More serious. “Find who did this, Captain,” he growled. “Find them and I will mete out justice with my own hands.”

* * *The next morning, Bander awoke in the Falward barracks an hour

before dawn. It was force of habit. He had slept badly, his head still ached from the wine last night, and his muscles were tight. The air that


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flowed in the open window was cold and damp and smelled faintly of saltwater.

He draped a blanket over his shoulders, lit a lantern, and walked down the hall past bunk rooms of sleeping Falwards to the bath chambers. The water had not yet been heated for the day, but that was fine with Bander. He placed the lantern on a bench and plunged into the dark bathing pool. The ice-cold water clamped his head tight and made him gasp, but after several moments, the fog in his mind began to clear. He washed and then submerged for a final rinse. As his head broke the surface of the bath, Bander saw a pair of bare legs standing on the edge of the bathing pool, faintly illuminated by lantern light. The legs were female and they belonged to Vala. She didn’t say anything, just slid into the bathing pool next to him. She was naked except for her jewelry and scars, which numbered more than his own.

“It appears I am not the only early riser,” he said.Vala unpinned her hair and splashed her face with water. “In truth,

I haven’t been to bed yet.”“I see. Perhaps the fates smiled upon Lord Lagurian last night…?”She snorted. “Hardly. My tastes don’t run to lords these days.”Bander knew enough not to pry, so he changed the subject. “The

Lord Governor was not who I expected.”“They never are.”“I only meant that he seemed more genuinely interested in Tobin’s

death than I would have thought.”“One of Asryn’s few talents. He can make you believe that every

word you utter is the most important in the Empire at that moment.”“Did he know Tobin?”“I doubt it.”“Did he meet him?”“I’m not sure.” Vala began to wash her long silvery hair. “But if he

did, it would have been at an event much like last night’s. Despite his


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public proclamations to the contrary, the Lord Governor does not possess a high degree of interest in magical research.”

Bander didn’t say anything for a while. The cold water was becoming uncomfortable. He climbed from the bath and shook his head like an old shaggy dog. “We need to know what Tobin was working on. That’s the key to this whole thing.”

“I doubt very much that Silbra Dal will offer that information. She rebuked you once.”

“I can be very persuasive, if you recall.”Vala shook her head. “Maybe a few decades ago…”“I don’t know, Vala. She was entranced by my charms at the

reception.”“The mage is quite polite—”“No matter. There may be others we can speak with.” Bander

covered himself with the blanket. “Where can I get something to eat at this hour?”

Vala pulled herself from the bath in a single graceful movement and stood beside him, dripping cold water. “My quarters,” she said.

* * *Just before noon, Bander and Vala left the Palace District by way of

the Citadel Gate which marked the beginning of Widders Way, the long, parklike boulevard marking the boundary between the Temple District and the mansion-filled Gold Coin District. Their destination was neither. Instead they sought out the part of the city where a famulus mage might spend his day off: the Merchant’s Quarter.

Vala was dressed in the black leathers of her office and Bander wore a borrowed Falward uniform without any insignia save the palace brooch he had been issued yesterday. They cut imposing figures as they strode through the already-crowded streets of the Quarter. No merchant welcomed a visit from the Falward, so shopkeepers arranging their wares averted their eyes as Vala and Bander passed.


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Mill Street ran along the southern border of the Bazaar, a maze-like square teeming with hundreds of shops ranging from ancient two-story buildings of timber and stone to tent-like stalls erected that morning. The Bazaar ran for a full two furlongs on each side and arguable was the center of commerce in the North. Inns, taverns, bistros, and public houses bordered the square. Vala led Bander to a relatively new establishment at the end of Mill Street called The Plover’s Twin. It had been built just last year upon the ashes of the previous alehouse, The Crooked Goat, which Bander recalled from his past visits to the city.

The Twin was filled with light-colored wood and decorative plants and had a row of large windows facing Mill Street. It was the complete opposite of the dark old pub Bander remembered. Vala explained that this establishment was owned by the Tyroda family, a long line of barkeeps and innkeepers who also ran the venerable Plover Inn in the Silver Coin District.

While Vala spoke with the publican, Bander surveyed the tavern. It wasn’t crowded. Most of the patrons appeared to be merchants and tradesmen who looked a bit more prosperous than the usual pub rabble. There was no sign of Hal Deorr, the young mage they were looking for.

“The barkeep knows who Deorr is, but hasn’t seen him for a week, but the mage does frequent this place,” Vala reported back. “Apparently he also spends time at a gaming hall on Spoke Street. I’m going to go there. You stay here in case he shows up. I’ll be back in two hours. Less if Deorr’s there.”

Bander nodded and seated himself in a corner table with a view of the front door. A serving girl walked over to his table. She was young—not yet 16—and had an unruly mass of curly red hair. Bander guessed she was new to the job. She still seemed interested in her customers and hadn’t acquired the protective veneer of a professional tavern wench. He ordered a flagon of spiced wine and some honey cakes, and leaned back to wait.

More patrons trickled into The Plover’s Twin over the course of the next hour, but none of them were Hal Deorr. And none of them ventured close to Bander’s corner table. He guessed that his Falward


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uniform had something to do with it. The citizens of Waterside had good memories. Under Vala’s predecessor, the Falward had a reputation for ruling the streets of the city with an iron hand, terrorizing merchants who didn’t cooperate, and causing certain citizens to disappear from their homes in the middle of the night.

The red-haired serving girl brought him another plate of honey cakes and refilled his glass. He placed his shortstaff on his lap and examined it for cracks. The weapon was three hands long and carved from fire-blackened ironwood. Bander typically went through three or four of them every year, so he never got attached to any one particular weapon, and he certainly did not give the shortstaff a name like other warriors did with their swords. This one had seen some action back in mid-Horning at a freehold near the Rainbow Hills, but he’d avoided any physical altercations since then.

Bander looked up from his shortstaff to see two men enter the tavern. Unlike most of the other patrons, these two were tall and thickset, dressed in the distinctive suede capes and wide-brimmed hats of Underfoot rangemen. Definitely out of place here. The taller of the rangemen, who had sandy hair and a short beard, spoke with the barkeep. The other, darker with a big bull neck, surveyed the Plover’s customers—including Bander. Bander met his gaze with the bored, but aggressive stare he’d perfected as an Imperial Guard and eventually Bull Neck looked away.

The two rangemen left after a few minutes. Bander signaled to the serving girl and asked her to tell the barkeep that he wanted a word. The man received the message, nodded at Bander, and walked over. He was a redhead like the serving girl and Bander wondered if they were relatives.

“Is everything to your liking, constable?”Bander ignored the question. “Sit, please. I would have a few

words…” He leaned back in his own chair, but was careful not to break it. “Those men—the rangemen—what were they inquiring about?”

“They were in need of a mage, they said. Some sort of issue with their wagons…”

“And why would they not go to the guild hall?”


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“I got the impression that they did not have the coin to hire a mage through official channels.”

“So they were looking for a famulus?”“I believe they were, constable. They asked about young master

Deorr. Said that he was recommended…”“And what did you tell them?”“The same as I told you, sir. That Deorr sometimes spends time

here—and sometimes he plays pone at the gaming hall.”“Did they ask which gaming hall?”The publican paused for a moment, trying to remember. “I don’t

believe they did, but there is only the one here in the Merchant’s Quarter.”

Bander was getting a bad feeling. “What’s the name of this gaming hall and where exactly is it?”

* * *The name of the gaming hall was Riddledorp and it was the one

Vala went to. Except when Bander arrived at the sprawling, one-story structure on Spoke Street, there was no sign of Vala. Bander strolled through each room in the hall and questioned the proprietor as well as four serving girls. No one had seen Vala. There was also no sign of Hal Deorr.

Bander left Riddledorp and headed south along Spoke Street back towards the Palace District. It was possible that Vala might have been called back to the Falward barracks by one of her men, but that would have required a chance meeting. Too much of a coincidence. And Bander didn’t believe in coincidences.

As he turned the corner towards Bedbury Alley, he caught a glimpse of motion in his peripheral vision. The street was clotted with people, but there was something too purposeful about this movement. Bander was being hunted.

Bedbury Alley was a twisting east/west passage between Spoke Street and Widders Way. It was barely wide enough for three men to


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walk abreast. Bander turned the corner and moved quickly down the lane. His eyes darted around—looking for the right spot. He glimpsed a rug merchant’s storefront—adorned with a rack of colorful Myssian runners. Perfect.

Bander slipped behind a hanging rug and squatted down, his legs tensed and ready to spring. From his hiding place, he saw the two rangemen from The Plover enter the lane ten yards away. He waited until they got close then struck—smashing his shortstaff with all his might into Bull Neck’s left knee. As Bull Neck cried out and went down, his partner turned and drew a short sword. Bander exploded out and—using the rug to entangle his foe—crashed down on the sandy-haired rangeman. The sword went clattering away, and Bander crushed the man’s head against the cobblestones like a ripe sugarmelon. One down.

Bull Neck lurched about in pain, but he had the presence of mind to loose a weapon from his belt. It was a long rangeman’s whip, with a four yard braided lash. As Bander turned to face the big rangeman, the whip arced out and sliced Bander’s face—barely missing his eye. Bander jerked back and stumbled. Bull Neck grinned and threw the whip out again. This time Bander blocked the blow with his shortstaff, which the whip encircled. Bull Neck pulled back, ripping the shortstaff from Bander’s grip—but that’s exactly what Bander wanted. With the whip encumbered by his shortstaff, Bander launched himself at Bull Neck, closing the distance in one leap. His elbow smashed into the bridge of Bull Neck’s nose. Two down. And done.

Bander leaned back against the alley wall, gulping air. Blood dripped from his cheek in fat splats on the cobblestones. Shopkeepers and passerbys stared at the bodies, but all kept their distance. After he had caught his breath, Bander examined Bull Neck. The man was alive, but unconscious. Bander turned his head so the rangeman wouldn’t drown in his own blood. After retrieving his shortstaff and the rangemen’s weapons, Bander searched both men. He found several knives, two satchels, and three belt pouches. Everything got tied in a bundle made of Bull Neck’s cloak. Now it was time to wait.


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A quarter hour later, two city guardsmen arrived. One drew his sword and approached Bander, while the other stood 20 yards back with a loaded crossbow. Bander stood up and held out his palace brooch.

“I am working with Vala, First Woman of the Falward. My name is Bander and I have jurisdiction granted by the Lord Governor.”

The guardsman with the sword cautiously moved closer to inspect Bander’s brooch. “What happened here?”

“These two Southerners tried to attack me. One of the men is dead. The other is my prisoner. I need him conveyed to the Lawhouse for interrogation at once.”

“Yes, sir!” The guardsman noticed Bander’s bloody face. “Do you require a healer, sir?”

Bander wiped his cheek. “No, but the prisoner will.”* * *

Without stopping, Bander made his way to the Falward barracks and asked the captain on duty if Vala had checked in, but was told that no one had seen her today. He went to his bunk room and dumped his makeshift pack on the bed. Item by item he went through everything. There were over a thousand regmarks worth of cut gems in the pouches, as well as enough gold coins to keep the men living in high style for weeks. The knives had a double-headed serpent mark near the hilt signifying that they were from Pecht, a well-known sword smith in Laketon. The whip, satchels, and pouches were made of Steading leather. The good stuff. But there were no scrolls, no maps, nothing that might suggest why the rangemen were so far north and what they might be doing in Waterside. He was confident that Bull Neck might be able to shine a lantern on that particular question.

Bander kept the coins, gems, and a belt pouch then dumped everything else into a chest beneath the bed and headed to the prison across from the Lawhouse complex. He identified himself to the guards manning the sally port and was led inside and down to the cell holding Bull Neck. The rangeman was asleep on a cot with a bandaged face. Attending him was a drawn, wizened Kaarnan healer by the name of


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Hoorik Embra. He seemed reasonably competent, but he had bad news for Bander.

“This man is not responding to my spells. He remains in a deep, unnatural slumber.”

“Unnatural?”“His heart beats steadily. His wounds have been treated. He has no

injuries to his head. There is no earthly reason why he should not awaken.”

“Poison?”“None that I can detect.”Bander thought for a moment. Then raised his short staff to strike

the unconscious rangeman. Hoorik stayed his hand. “No need to be so crude, sir.” The healer laid his left hand on Bull Neck’s chest and then, in a single sharp movement, forcefully pressed down upon the man’s heart. Still Bull Neck did not stir.

“No man could remain still against that palpitation.”Bander couldn’t argue with that. Another possibility came into his

head. “Did you examine his body?”“Only where he was injured.”“Let us remove his garments.”It took both of them several minutes and quite a bit of effort to

maneuver the big man out of his breeches and shirt. Bander inspected the skin on the rangeman’s chest above his sternum.

“What do you seek?” asked Hoorik.“Chest wounds, scars—”The healer shook his head. “There is no siddith within him, if that

is what you are thinking. The symptoms of that would be quite obvious, sir.”

Bander remembered the one and only time he saw a live siddith. It was a fearsome parasitic creature the size of a man’s fist with a single unblinking eye. Insect-like and extremely rare, siddiths were used by dark


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mages as a means of coercion and control. The one he had seen over 20 years ago had been implanted in the chest of an assassin sent to murder Regent Findlyn. When the assassin was captured, the siddith burrowed into the man’s heart and devoured it. That image never left Bander’s mind.

“You may be on the right track, however,” the healer continued. He rummaged through his satchel until he found a vial with a red lacquered top. The vial contained a rust-colored powder which Hoorik sprinkled on Bull Neck’s lips and tongue. The healer then adjusted the rangeman’s head and neck to keep his mouth open.

“Ground powdered edgeweed,” Hoorik explained. “It will draw out any of veinworms which may be living within this man.”

“Could veinworms keep him in such a stupor?”“It’s possible. The venom of the blue veinworm causes that reaction

in those with a certain mineral deficiency in the blood. Though I have to confess, I have never witnessed such a thing myself.”

Bander drew close to inspect Bull Neck’s mouth. “I don’t see any.”“It takes at least an hour for the edgeweed to draw them out. If

there are any to be summoned, that is. I will wait.”“Thank you, healer. The life of a very important person may

depend on making this man able to speak to us. I shall return within the hour. If you learn something before then, leave word with the Falward.”

“Of course, sir.”Bander left the prison and headed back into the city proper,

specifically to The Plover’s Twin. His body was starting to cramp badly—making him regret the decision not to request healing from Hoorik. At the Plover, the red-haired serving girl was still on duty, but she reported that Vala had not returned. He then decided to trace the path between the tavern and the gaming hall, step by step, but unfortunately the most expeditious route Vala could have taken would have been to wind her way northwest through the Bazaar itself. He slowly navigated the maze of stalls, shops, wagons, and tents and pushed through the throngs trying to imagine which way Vala would have gone, questioning merchants as


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he walked. No one had seen Vala. Or at least no one admitted to seeing her.

It was the same story at the Riddledorp gaming hall. No Vala. No Hal Deorr. Bander could feel his patience evaporate in the late afternoon sun. He was eager to get back to the prison see if the healer had caught any veinworms, but he had to make one more stop. This time he traveled through the Temple District—with its imposing fanes, churches, sanctuaries, and temples. There were far fewer people on the street in this area, and most of the buildings were shuttered and abandoned. At the gala last night Bander had heard bits of a discussion between noblemen about a plan to reclaim parts of the Temple District and convert some of the old churches there to residences. Standing in the long shadows of these edifices, Bander was struck with how profoundly wrong that idea was. This was not a place of joy and light. Not a place for families to live. He looked up to see the largest of the old temples. It was covered with brown vines and roots as thick as his chest. Great shaggy falls of moss hung on its walls. This was the ancient Order of the Gargoyle temple. Empty for over 300 years, there was still an almost palpable atmosphere of malevolence lingering on its grounds.

Bander was happy to leave the Temple District and pass through the Park Gate. Although he knew the answer, he asked the guards on duty if they had seen Vala today. Still no luck. He limped along a wide lane edged by towering ceaon trees, grown gigantic thanks to the shelter of the city walls. Nestled among the ceaons were multistory noble residences and estate houses and then, closer to the Lord Governor’s mansion, a row of guest embassies. The guardsman on duty helped him locate Silbra Dal’s suite at the top of a tower of an old grey-stone consulate building. Bander was out of breath by the time he reached the top floor. The mage’s door opened before he even had a chance to knock.

“Captain…” Silbra Dal’s eyes looked tired.“May I come in?”“Of course. Have you news?”“I do, but none good, I fear.”


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Her sitting room was lavishly appointed with tapestries, colorful Myssian rugs, and elaborately-carved furniture. The windows stretched up taller than Bander’s head and provided an expansive view of the Lord Governor’s mansion and beyond.

“Would you care for some spiced nampa tea? Asryn brings it in from the Steppes of Choudri. Quite exquisite—”

“Thank you, Mistress, but no.”“Then sit, please, and tell me of your news.”Bander awkwardly tried to ease himself into a low settee facing the

window. He knew he could not hide his injuries from the sorceress.“You are hurt.”“Nothing substantial. Just these old bones protesting.”Silbra Dal said nothing.“Vala is missing,” Bander said. “She may have been taken.”“By whom?”“I do not know yet, Mistress. We wished to speak further with young

master Deorr—”“Without a Guild representative present?” Silbra Dal scowled. “Ill-

advised.”“We sought him out at a pub in the Bazaar. He never showed up.

Vala went to check a gaming establishment across the square. That was the last time I saw her. Just after noon time.”

The sorceress shut her eyes in thought as Bander continued. “Two men arrived at the pub an hour or so later. Rangemen from the Underfoots. They too were inquiring about Deorr.”

“Rangemen? You’re certain?”“Yes. They marked me in the pub, then lay in wait until I moved out

into the open. Then they tracked me from the gaming house.”“And where are these men now?”“One is dead. The other is in an unnatural slumber in the

Lawhouse prison.”


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“By your hand?”“The dead one, yes.”“Wearing the Falward black is having its effect on you, I see.”Bander shrugged off the comment. “The healer is baffled by the

condition of the second man. We are checking for veinworms.”Silbra Dal shook her head. “I don’t mean to tell you how to conduct

your soldiering, captain—”“Then don’t, Mistress. My first priority is to locate Vala. My second

is to learn exactly what Tobin Leroth was working on. I believe you can help me with both.”

The sorceress moved to the window and spent some moments gazing out. When she turned back to Bander, she nodded her head. “I will authorize a divination to determine the whereabouts of the First Woman. She is essential to this investigation. But I will not reveal anything further about Tobin Leroth’s research. My decision is final. And should you attempt to circumvent the Guild on this matter, there shall be repercussions…”

“We’ve already spoke of such ‘repercussions,’ as you recall, Mistress,” Bander said with a half smile.

“So we have, captain, and I am confident that your respect for the Guild’s power and reach shall inform your judgment in this matter. Do we have an understanding?”

“We do.” As Bander struggled to rise from the settee, the sorceress offered her hand and helped him to his feet with surprising strength.

“Believe me when I tell you that the nature of the Tobin’s research is not at all germane to his murder,” she said in a softer voice. “I can state that with the utmost certainty.”

“I will take your word as truth, Mistress, for I have no other choice.”“Good. Now let us locate the First Woman.”

* * *As Silbra Dal made preparations for the divination spell, Bander

debated whether or not to assemble a small Falward strike team to help


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him extract Vala from wherever she was being held. The failing of that plan was the fact that he wouldn’t be able to maintain secrecy among Vala’s men, and by extension, the rest of the palace. So far, no one besides himself and Silbra Dal knew that Vala was missing. If he could quietly rescue her, she might have more options. That was a big if. He had no idea of the size of the force that took her, although he suspected that the rangemen had at least two confederates—maybe three. And, as much as he hated to even entertain the thought, there was a chance that Vala was dead. In which case the rescue mission would become a recovery mission and it wouldn’t matter who knew about it. He elected to wait until Silbra Dal located Vala. He’d make the decision at that point.

“I am ready,” Silbra Dal called from a small library room adjacent to her sitting room. Bander found the mage standing at a thick haldwood desk which was scarred and burned from years of use. Resting on the desk was a silvered glass mirror the size of a serving plate surrounded by an array of powdered reagents. “I need some item of the First Woman’s,” she said.

“I don’t have anything of hers,” Bander said. “Perhaps we should go to her quarters.”

“Do you have anything that she touched? A dagger? Even some coins?”

Bander thought for a moment and then pointed to the palace brooch fastened at the neck of his cloak. Vala had pinned it on him after they dressed. “Will this do?”

Silbra Dal didn’t reply—just unfastened the brooch and placed it upon the mirror. She had the barest smirk on her face. “Fetch me that candle.”

Bander complied then watched as Silbra Dal mixed the reagents in very particular measures. She arranged the compound in a small circle around the brooch then touched the candle’s flame to the circle. Bander leaned back—expecting a small explosion. Instead the flame cooled to a blue color, then spread like water on top of the mirror. Silbra Dal brushed the brooch aside, then pronounced an incantation. Images


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swirled and danced between the mirror and the blue flame, but from his vantage point Bander could not make out what they were. The mage’s eyes fluttered and she stumbled back—almost striking her head on the haldwood bookshelves in back of the desk. Bander caught her and eased the sorceress into a chair. “It’s easier when the fetching item belongs to the subject,” she croaked.

“Does Vala live?” he asked.“Yes.” The mage’s skin was drained of color. She took a deep

breath. “She is locked in the Lord Governor’s prison.”“What?”“In chains—”“Are you certain?”Before Silbra Dal could answer, there was a loud crack and the door

to her sitting room splintered inward. Three black-clad Falward guardsmen burst into the suite and advanced towards the library. “Halt!” the lead guard yelled. “Hands in the air! Now!” His short sword was out and he had a truncheon at his belt. The men behind him both leveled compact crossbows at Bander and Silbra Dal.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Silbra Dal demanded.“Resisting arrest…” the lead guard called out—not to them, but to

his fellow guardsman. Bander had experienced this scenario before. From both sides. And

it wasn’t good. These guards were justifying murder to themselves. “Down!” he screamed to the mage. Bander snatched up the fiery

mirror and flung it at the closest crossbowman—in a splash of magical flame—just as the crossbowmen loosed their bolts. Time seemed to slow as the bolt meant for him whizzed past his shoulder while the one meant for Silbra Dal slammed into the chair where she had been a moment before. Heeding his warning, the sorceress had dived to the floor.

All at once the lead guard was on him, chopping down diagonally with his short sword. The short sword was a good weapon in close quarters like these, but only if you used it correctly—jabbing and


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slashing with small, quick movements. The guard was swinging it like a battle axe, going for a killing blow. It was the wrong tactic and Bander planned on chiding Vala for her poor training—if he ever saw her again. But right now he pivoted on the outside of the guard’s swing and smashed the heel of his hand into the swordsman’s wrist. The sword went clattering to the ground just as Bander’s forehead slammed into the bridge of the guard’s nose, crushing his face. The guard crumpled like a scarecrow that fell off his pole.

The two crossbowmen stared in surprise. They were not used to seeing a fellow Falward go down so quickly. As the men began to free their blades, Bander took a long step in towards them and grabbed each man’s cloak below the chin. He then spun, and with all his strength, smashed them headfirst into the bookcases. The shorter man’s face erupted in blood where a shelf caught him on his cheek. The other managed to lessen the impact by bringing his arm up. As the guard staggered from the bookshelves, Bander elbowed him in the temple, dropping him neatly to the floor.

Bander limped over to where Silbra Dal lay and helped her back into the chair. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “What was that?”“Someone wants us dead. We need to get out of here.”“I must contact the Guild.”“Our first priority is to get away from the Falward. Someone has

usurped—” Bander interrupted himself. The faint sound of voices yelling from outside caught his attention. He hobbled to the great windows in the sitting room. From that vantage point he saw a dozen Falward guardsmen on horseback gallop towards the consulate.

“Reinforcements! You need to do something. Now—”“I’m too weak!”“I don’t care. Try!” Bander toppled over one of the massive

bookcases into the doorway, sending rare books flying.“I could stoneflow a barrier…”


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“They’d burn us out.”“I don’t have the power for anything else!”“Well then, I’ve enjoyed making your acquaintance, Mistress—” He

pushed another bookshelf over, blocking the doorway.“They must listen to me. I’m the Guild Representative. This is a

grave error!”The sound of men racing up the stairs alerted Bander. He tossed a

lit candle on the makeshift bookcase barrier and the dry old books immediately ignited.

“Come on!” Bander dragged Silbra Dal to the back bedroom and bolted the door shut. Wincing with pain, he made his way to the window. The ground was at least 20 yards below, but if they could somehow make it down and steal some horses—

As he turned back to the sorceress, the window behind him shattered and an arrow tumbled into the room. A second flew clear and stuck in the beam of the ceiling with a powerful thunk! And then a volley of at least a dozen more arrows sprayed into the room. At the same time, the bedroom door buckled and cracked as the guardsmen began to force it open.

What a damn fool way to go, thought Bander. Trapped like a mouse in a trap. He raised his hands in surrender.

But Silbra Dal pulled him towards the window. She was muttering something under her breath. There on the ledge they locked eyes for the briefest moment and Bander noticed for the first time that the young sorceress had eyes the color of amethysts.

And then, without warning, they were falling. * * *

AT JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT, 250 leagues to the south, a lone rider arrived at a run-down, but popular inn outside of the town of Swain on the Delta. The inn, which was called the Talbot, was popular because of its location—at the crossroads of four well-maintained roads leading southwest to Rundlun, northwest to Hamwick, northeast to


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Three Rivers, and southeast to The Steading. The Talbot was run down because its proprietor, a man named Lawe, knew that the inn would do a brisk business no matter what its condition—as long as there was a roof overhead and ale in the casks.

A breeze blew in from the river, balmy and damp, and a full moon lit the yard near the stables where the rider tied his horse. Sounds of laughter and revelry spilled from the Talbot. Sure enough, as the rider entered the inn, he saw that it was packed with customers. He hefted his satchel, pulled his hood forward to cover his face, and made his way to the long bar which ran along the entire north wall of the common room. It took a several minutes to catch the attention of the barkeep, a loud young man who seemed to enjoy gabbing with the patrons more than serving ale.

“I seek Daras Mirth,” the rider said.The barkeep’s demeanor quickly shifted. “He’s in the office.” The

man nodded to a door in the corner of the room. “First door to your right as you enter… sir.”

The rider pushed his way through the crowd, careful to keep his hood up over his face. He slipped through the door and found himself in a short dark corridor with three doors and stairs leading up to the second floor. He entered the first door on the right without knocking and found himself in an office. A lanky man dressed in suede had his boots up on the desk like he owned the place. Beside him on the desk was a wide-brimmed hat, a coiled whip, a half-empty bottle of very expensive Iorlian wine, and two goblets.

“You’re late,” the lanky man said.“But you’re still here.” “Had to convey the news myself. The deed is done.”“Congratulations, Mirth. You’re now a rich man.” The rider

unslung his satchel and dropped it on the desk with a heavy thunk. “I’m already a rich man.” “Well, now you are richer.”


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“In that case let us celebrate.” Daras Mirth filled both goblets and toasted his companion. “To Chaos!”

The rider’s hood shifted as he took a drink, revealing the face of Bryn Eresthar, Lord Governor of Laketon. “To Chaos!”

TO BE CONTINUED


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SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

See what happens next in THROUGH THE PORTAL, Book 2 of the Further Adventures of Bander—available now.

Also available: CHAINS OF VENGEANCE, Book 3 of the Further Adventures of Bander.

Or get the first three Bander adventures at a special price in the Bander Omnibus.

Coming in November 2012: ONSLAUGHT, Book 4 of the Further Adventures of Bander.


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AUTHOR’S NOTE

I hate endings.

In real life, most adventures don’t end neatly at the end of 300 pages worth of events. In fact they rarely end until the main character dies. Kind of like our own life stories.

I also love cliffhangers. See where I am going with this?

A Killing in the Air is meant to be the first of a series of adventures featuring the exploits of retired Imperial Guard Captain Bander. His is a complex world of political intrigue, conspiracies, plots, and multiple factions—all vying for power and struggling to further their own ends. Bander’s adventures are ongoing and I want the series to reflect that momentum.

I am a big fan of serial storytelling and hope to carry on the tradition of both the pulp magazines and the cliffhanger serial movies of the 1930s and 1940s with my own writing.

If you want to see more Bander adventures, please leave a review on Amazon or drop me a line at [email protected].


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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Randy Nargi is an award-winning writer and film director who lives in New Mexico with his wife (and frequent collaborator), actress Jessi Badami. Mr. Nargi received his BA in Literary Writing from Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut. He is a former technology entrepreneur and advertising executive who grew up in New York and has lived in London and Seattle.


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