I face Kingsley and Allison. “You two ready?”

  Allie looks herself over. “As ready as I’m going to be.”

  Kingsley rolls his head around, stretching his neck. A few of the Light Warriors cringe at the crunching. “About time. Getting bored standing around.”

  “All right, everyone,” says Max. “Let’s get to work.”

  Chapter Six

  The Quiet Way

  According to Kingsley, there are two ways to ‘do war.’

  In my opinion, there’s quite a bunch more than simply two, but he’s boiled it down to ‘ways that make noise’ and ‘ways that don’t.’ Noisy war includes everything from gunfire to dropping nuclear weapons.

  Less noisy war ranges from poisonings to politics. Sneaking into a castle to stab the king or queen in their sleep, for example. Or dropping radioactive polonium in a guy’s tea. We’re a little short on polonium, and I’m not sure it would bother Elizabeth, anyway. Trying to poison her would be about as dumb as someone expecting lava to kill the Fire Warrior.

  We make our way back into the city. Tammy’s mental shield is noticeable as a slight dulling of my telepathic abilities. I really have to work to figure out what people are thinking while she is concentrating on it. For the purposes of this mission, I’m still wearing Max’s second translation ring. He gave Tammy the other one.

  Once we’re through the city gate, we head left to the nearest canal, about a quarter-mile away. The designers who made the city were wise enough to not have a canal leading straight from the entry gate to the palace’s back yard. Be dumb to give an invading army a clear, unobstructed path. Thanks to Allison re-casting the spell to keep us hidden from casual observation, we make it to the canal unnoticed, despite walking past a few groups of patrolling soldiers.

  They’re not much of a threat, being normal humans. Still, we have no reason to hurt people merely for being victims of Elizabeth’s mind-control. In the heat of a battle where it’s impossible to undo the mental conditioning and they’re running at me with a sword, different story.

  Upon reaching the end of the canal, where it forms a round pool about twenty-five feet across, we turn right and follow it toward the city’s heart. It’s late afternoon now. Loads of people come and go from the various streets and alleys into the open areas along the canal. A few merchants have wagons set up from which they sell merchandise, even ‘street food.’ Nearly all the buildings facing the canal are shops or taverns of the more expensive-looking variety.

  It takes us more than an hour to walk the full length of the canal to the city center, the city’s that damn big. The distance between the outer wall and castle has to be over four miles. We see more soldiers on the way, though they act pretty much like ordinary cops on foot patrol.

  The shore at the south edge of Lake Iskar is a veritable beach resort. Considering all the Egyptian-slash-Arabic vibes going around the place, it surprises me to see the locals wearing their birthday suits to go swimming. Yeah, I know. Dumb of me to apply any knowledge of Earth cultures here.

  We make our way past the crowd, sticking to the outside while circling the lake toward the castle on the distant north shore. Lake Iskar has a generally bowl-shaped bottom, becoming gradually deeper toward the center, where a huge hole—like the drain of a massive sink—opens into a vertical shaft tinged in shades of blue, green and yellow, probably algae. Subtle ripples on the surface suggest the water is welling up from below, filling the lake continuously as the canals drain it off to the smaller pools at the ends.

  That’s a damn lot of water for a natural spring to be producing. Gotta be magic involved here. I’m not sure what it is about seeing an enormous opening on the bottom of a lake like this, but I can fly and it’s still giving me vertigo, like going swimming in this lake will result in me being sucked down into the depths.

  Still, it’s breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe if I survive this mess, I’ll take some pictures before we leave. Of course, no one in our world would believe the pics are anything but computer-generated artwork.

  We follow the shore around in a circle, stopping once we reach a waist-high wall blocking off the area between the castle and the lake, sort of an epic back yard. It’s pretty obvious no one is supposed to go back there unless they’re part of the castle staff or royals. Wonder how close they tolerate people swimming? Although I don’t see anyone patrolling the beach inside the private area, it’s unlikely they’d react favorably to ordinary people getting too close to the castle.

  From here, I can kind of make out a whitish spot in the water where a pipe juts into the lake. Our way in. Unfortunately, it is completely underwater. Given the size of the land behind the castle to the lake, we’re looking at traveling at least a hundred-yard distance while submerged.

  Allison’s not worried. She’s got a breath-holding spell. Wow, you know… I think I might actually need such a spell. Haven’t tried holding my breath to see what happens. Stands to reason if my body requires food, it’s going to disapprove of being deprived of air for too long. Granted, the worst thing likely to happen to me from suffocation is remaining unconscious until there is air again. Still, don’t want to pass out.

  Kingsley nudges me. When I look up at him, he nods toward the castle, indicating a patio three stories up, where a handful of soldiers stand guard. Considering the angled walls of the pyramid, one might think we could totally run up to one of those balconies, but according to Mardat, there are defensive spells in place. Anyone trying to run up the castle walls will find themselves magically paralyzed for an hour or so. Easy for the castle guards to collect any would-be thieves, assassins, or misbehaving kids.

  I mean, seriously. You don’t build a giant pyramid and expect small boys not to dare each other to run up the side.

  However, considering the former king is gone, replaced by Elizabeth, this castle has become a giant bug-zapper for humans. Anyone they find helpless on the ground is most likely volunteering to become vampire nom-noms. Or maybe a new vampire recruit.

  “Wait,” whispers Allison.

  Kingsley and I pause to look at her.

  “My spell is probably not going to stop them from seeing us since they are paying attention to watching the back of the castle. They aren’t looking for us specifically, but they are looking for anyone in the area.”

  “And the water’s too perfect and clear for us to hide in the lake,” I say.

  Allison taps her foot. “Magic is stronger in this world, right? I wonder if a conundrum jinx would work.”

  Thanks to our mind link, I know she’s talking about a minor hex that sets off an irresistible idea in a target’s mind. Ever think of someone you saw in a movie once, but can’t recall the actor’s name? The same sensation eating at you until you finally remember or look it up on Google? Yeah, this hex causes a similar feeling, only instead of coming up with the name of a famous face, it’s more like trying to remember the answer to the question ‘what is six plus orange?’

  The spell overcomes the victim with an insatiable need to figure out the answer to a question that doesn’t exist. It stands a good chance of distracting them enough for us to slip by.

  With that decided, Allison casts the conundrum jinx on the visible soldiers, who all suddenly make ‘dammit, what was that actor’s name?’ face in response.

  Heh. They’re probably trying to figure out the square root of blueberry.

  We hop the wall into the royal back yard. The soldiers don’t pay attention to us, too busy making constipated, confused faces. One guy balls his fists. I’ve seen that expression before. Right now, his mind voice is shouting, ‘dammit, argh, I know this!’

  “Hop on my back.” Kingsley hastily strips off his thawb and shifts into wolf form.

  I gather the garment and jump on him.

  Allison and I ride the big wolf like a horse across the sand bordering the lake. The genius of his plan becomes obvious right away—he’s erasing his footprints by swishing his tail. Even if he misses one, a soldier finding animal tracks in the sand isn’t going to stir up anywhere near the same kind of alarm as human footprints. They’re probably going to freak out over a giant wolf print, but it won’t get them searching the castle for spies.

  Good boy!

  Allison buries her face in his fur to mute her laughter.

  Kingsley emits a playfully annoyed groan. He’s assuming, based on her laughing for no reason, I thought something teasing about him. Sometimes he assumes incorrectly, but this time, he got me. He hurries across the lakeshore to a spot near the pipe.

  Crap. I still have my phone on me.

  “Give,” says Allison. “Waterproof bag.”

  I fish my phone out and hand it to her. She drops it in her purse. While it’s open, I stuff Kingsley’s thawb in there, too.

  We slip into the water, which is neither warm nor cool. Allison enchants us with a spell so we can hold our breath for fifteen minutes. She can’t help but think to herself—and me by proxy—the reason she thought of such a spell was to endure being around Anthony.

  Don’t do that! yells Tammy in our minds. You almost made me laugh and lose concentration.

  I duck underwater into a surreal world of bright blue. Considering how clear the water is, the sand itself here might actually be pale blue. Or maybe I’m seeing the light glowing out from the giant hole in the center of the lake. I feel a bit like a mouse someone dropped in a toilet bowl, really hoping no one hits the flush lever. The ‘drain’ is kinda scary. My fear of being ‘inhaled’ by it is unfounded; after all, there’s definitely a current flowing out of the hole.

  At least being underwater, we’re hidden from the castle guards. I dive toward the end of a white stone pipe sticking horizontally out of the ground, far enough beneath the surface for a person to stand on top of without their head above water. A stiff current pulls on me once I get close to the end, though it’s not difficult to grab the side of the stone tube and stop myself from being sucked face first into the metal grate at the end. The pipe’s four-feet across. Plenty of room for us to fit. The three-inch squares in the grating, however, are going to hurt.

  Algae and long plant threads coat the metal. Long diaphanous strands of vegetation flutter inward like yarn tied to a fan. It’s eerie to experience a current like this and be in total silence, no audible sense of an operating pump.

  Kingsley shifts back to human form, then swims around in front of the pipe. Yeah, he’s butt naked. He grabs the grating in both hands. His long hair trails forward, drawn inward by the moving water. After a moment of examining the grate, he braces his feet on the lakebed and gives a sharp tug.

  Stone gives way with a sharp crack I feel in my bones—a weird effect from being underwater.

  He pulls the grating out of the pipe end, clearing the way for me and Allison to let the current sweep us into it. Kingsley backs into the pipe, pulling the grating back into place. Looks like he didn’t smash it to the point it won’t stay put. Maybe the water flow is holding it in place.

  The three of us tuck our arms to our sides, now ‘flying’ down a round passage of relatively clean white stone. The water’s moving too much for any algae to gather on the inside.

  Once again, I absolutely adore being me. As in, a vampire with night vision eyes. Otherwise, this pitch-dark tube would terrify me. Bad enough being completely submerged inside a water-filled pipe. Talk about nightmare fuel. That plus not being able to see anything would be horrifying.

  We cruise along at a speed similar to a brisk walk if we float idle, but I’m in a hurry. Never been claustrophobic in my life, but this is tweaking a nerve, so I try to swim faster. Every thirty feet, a thin line of glowing cyan light encircles the pipe surface. Allison thinks it’s the magic responsible for the ‘pumping.’ This pipe is horizontal, so there shouldn’t be a current in it without some kind of mechanical assistance—or in this case, magical.

  After a few minutes, light appears in the distance where the pipe ends at an opening.

  We emerge in a rectangular cistern in the castle’s ‘basement.’ The top is uncovered like a swimming pool, allowing us to glide up and breach the surface. I’m treading water in a reservoir basin three times the size of my living room. It doesn’t look intended for bathing, being as there are no stairs or ladders out. Also, the chamber is entirely undecorated. Six one-foot-wide bronze pipes descend straight down from the ceiling into the water, drawing it upward into the castle’s plumbing system.

  Wow, it is so damn strange to see an almost modern concept of plumbing in such ancient times. Allison finds it fascinating, too, but also thinks we lost so much to wars and the ravages of time. For all we know, Ancient Rome might well have had similar things… only not powered by magic. They’d have used gravity or pulleys and paddles to pump the water.

  It’s not difficult for us to grab the edge of the pool and pull ourselves up to dry floor. Allison dries us off with magic and hands Kingsley back his thawb. A simple ladder made of steps jutting out of the wall goes up to a brown stone square in the ceiling at the far right corner. On our left, a small passageway leads deeper into the castle at the same level as this room. From it, I hear running water. Kingsley goes up the steps, braces a hand on the stone hatch at the top, and pushes.

  A few seconds later, the stair he’s standing on breaks under his foot. The crack is startlingly loud, mostly due to the total silence in here. Kingsley falls the short distance back to the floor, managing to keep his balance while landing on his feet.

  He shakes his head. “There’s got to be magic sealing it closed, or it weighs like 4,000 pounds.”

  I point to the passageway on the left. “Should we try this?”

  “Kinda looks kinda like a maintenance hallway,” says Allison.

  “I can hear voices down it. There must be a connection into the castle somewhere,” says Kingsley, scrunching his nose. “But... it’s a sewer.”

  “Hey, I’m not saying we should go swimming in it.” I approach the passage and peek in.

  A stone-walled corridor runs thirty or so feet straight ahead before cornering to the right. It’s got two narrow ledges on either side of a water-filled trench. Yes, it smells like human waste in here, but appears clean. Two small pipes at floor level pour fresh water into the trench. I’m guessing they keep the sewer system filled and moving, also explaining why this end is cleaner. The flow’s going away from the drinking water.

  We follow the hallway to the corner and past it into another stretch of sewer that runs about fifty feet to a second cistern. This one contains a round basin of horror at its center. Fortunately, a reasonable amount of wet-but-cleanish floor surrounds the fecal whirlpool, offering us a path to one of two branching hallways.

  Thick stone pipes hang from the ceiling over the basin, but fortunately aren’t releasing any awfulness at the moment. This castle must have toilets of some form, and we’re looking at the very end of the pipes. Weird thing is the sewage must be draining somewhere, though I haven’t any idea where.

  I’m also completely uninterested in discovering where it goes.

  Allison thinks the bottom of this pit might have a small magical portal where the sewage drops out. Hopefully, they put it inside a volcano.

  Kingsley’s eyes are watering. Mine are, too, but not as bad. Yes, vampires have a supernatural sense of smell powerful enough where I can scent-track humans… but I’ve got nothing on a werewolf. Even Allison with her normal human sniffer appears close to fainting.

  Not wanting to be here any longer, I make a snap decision and go into the left corridor since it contains whispering voices. Unfortunately, it leads to a maze-like arrangement of passageways. I do my best to follow the voices, but there are a lot of echoes in here.

  After several dead ends and backtracking, the voices lead me to a metal grating in the ceiling. I straddle the trench, which here contains only brackish water, not straight up brown sludge, and peer up at a stone ceiling. Looks plain, almost like a vault chamber. The whispers of several women echo from the room above. Sounds like they’re trying to comfort another woman who sounds terrified of being killed at any minute.

  The grating is mortared in place, and it’s too small for a person to fit through.

  Dammit. Okay, I’m done with sewers. Time to cheat.

  I grasp Allison and Kingsley’s hands, and summon the single flame, concentrating on a point in space above the grating...

  Chapter Seven

  Illusions of Grandeur

  Such a short-distance hop occurs in a split second.

  Teleporting to a spot I can physically see in front of me within like a hundred yards happens so fast the dancing flame barely has a chance to appear in my mind. We drop a foot or so to the ground since we appeared in midair.

  The room we find ourselves in is saturated in a dark green hue thanks to jade tiles covering the walls as well as six octagonal columns in two rows of three, down the middle of the chamber between a pair of enormous bathtubs made from marble. The ceiling is plain stone, trim on the walls inlaid with various semiprecious stones.

  A gasp comes from behind us.

  I turn toward the sound.

  Six women sit clustered together on a slightly raised platform at one of the room’s narrow ends. Their only clothing consists of narrow loincloths and tops, metal collars with glowing markings.

  One is noticeably older than the rest, probably in her late thirties. The other five all look closer to twenty, plus or minus a year or two. The eldest and the younger woman she’s embracing are both blushing and appear to have been weeping recently. The other three don’t seem embarrassed at all, more resigned. Clearly, they’re slaves. I doubt Elizabeth would have wasted the time to acquire these women herself. Undoubtedly, they were here before her, likely forced to work as bath attendants. I mean, the only reason I can think of to keep slaves in a giant bath chamber would be that their function is to bathe the wealthy. Guess the former administration was kinda shitty, too.