Before any of them could move, Zhanna added one last decree, stating, “Irrespective of the review on your actions, none of you will be permitted to transit the portal to Tellus. None of you will be accepted on any mission we participate in, nor will you be hired by anyone in Blagogarsk. If you trespass into any of my lands or of those allied with me, your life will be forfeit.”

  As the infuriated woman spoke, a cloud of twisting ribbons of light flared out behind her, reaching high into the air. Gasps were heard scattered throughout the audience as those with Magical Sight realized both how powerful and how enraged the Witch had become.

  Quietly, the six marksmen and four Mages filed from the arena. As the last marksmen walked past the angry woman, he whispered, “Lady, please forgive us, but we were ordered to do that!” Both Dov and the two women heard the man’s plea, but none of them reacted. Zhanna knew that Guild Master would investigate, but right now, she was too angry to think rationally. All she wanted to do was to punish those that had endangered her Familiar.

  In the uncomfortable silence, Dascha strolled over to TT and Jack, almost strutting in her confidence and totally feline desire to scare those that might be prey. Looking down at the two other Familiars that were wearing the new battledress, Dascha said, << Okay, boys and girls, it is time to teach you how to take your forms. >>

  Jack immediately responded, saying, << I still do not believe that I have a form like yours! I have spent decades as a Familiar, and I would know if I did! >>

  Dascha just purred at him, murmuring, <>

  The black Familiar turned and walked to a clear area of the field and stood waiting for Jack to follow. Muttering under his breath, he said, << I do not want another form! >> the Persian Tomcat reluctantly followed her.

  TT positioned herself close enough to listen but far enough away to avoid being an obstacle. Dascha explained patiently to Jack the mental and physical process of taking the new shape, but his disbelief in his ability to do so prevented any progress. Again and again, the black cat walked him through what he needed to do, but the stubborn Tomcat would not let go of his preconceived ideas.

  Finally, it was TT that became sufficiently annoyed with his quibbling and told him off, saying, << You have been telling me all of this stuff about how important it is to go rescue the people that are haunting my dreams. You have been nagging me on why it was essential for me to buckle down and train. Is this an example of do what I say and not what I do? Because you certainly are showing the same behavior that I was when you were riding on my tail! We need every advantage we can get to pull off this rescue. I do not want to think that people that we care about are going to die because you were too cowardly or lazy to just do what you were told! >>

  Stung by what she had said, Jack took a risk and pushed his essence into his new shape. Almost as if he had exploded into place, the form of an immense Tiger now stood where the large Tomcat had just posed. In the sudden silence that gripped the arena, a lone voice summarized the audience’s reaction. “Holy crap! What is he?” A shaky voice answered, “A fur-covered tank!”

  TT’s eyeballs were almost falling out of her head, and she let out a soft whimper. Jack was as startled as she, and an instant later had morphed back into his smaller size.

  When a jubilant Clothier high-fived the watching Witch, the smack of their hands drew everyone’s attention, just in time to hear Genevieve crow, “The resize worked perfectly again!”

  Leaving Jack to practice changing his shape back and forth, Dascha then focused on TT. At first, the white Persian had just as much difficulty as her uncle had, but rather than yelling at her, Dascha told her mentally, << Do I need to yell at you the way you did to Jack? >>

  Snarling at her friend, TT focused, and changed instantly. Spinning around in an effort to examine her new shape, the female Persian, considered every aspect of her new form. What had been a somewhat delicate-looking cat was now an animal with blade-like front fangs and a slightly shorter but more muscular body than that of Jack. Her color ranged from cream to buff. Her wide muzzle and jaw telegraphed the different types of attack that she and Dascha would employ, and TT stretched and twisted in sheer enjoyment in her body.

  After a while, TT looked over at Dascha and said, << I want to try something. Please, watch and see how it goes. >> At first, nothing happened, but then TT’s shape slowly started to shrink. Instead of alternating between two shapes and sizes, the adventurous feline practiced stopping at different points in the transformation. The Persian cat shrank until she was the size of a rat before continuing to shrink even more, finishing the change at the size of a mouse. To finish up her exploration, she suddenly resumed her usual size. Doing a little victory dance, TT bragged, << The battledress fit perfectly every step of the way! Now we can be stylish no matter what our size! >>

  Without warning, Dascha began to run through the damaged obstacle course. The lure of her moving shape was too much, and both Jack and TT immediately began to chase her. Shrinking and growing as needed for the optimal speed, the three cats wrestled and pounced as they went.

  Their playful exercise and exploration of their new abilities and the battledress were so entertaining that the audience was soon shouting encouragement and suggestions. The enthusiasm lifted the pall of shame that they had been shrouded with, and the Clothier and Zhanna could feel Dov’s tension relax.

  After the cats had been tumbling and wrestling all over the obstacle course, Zhanna saw the man who was serving as the interim head of Battle Magic marching over toward the Clothier. Striking a pose, the man arrogantly demanded that Genevieve provide them with the spell she used to create the protection in the battledress.

  Immediately, Zhanna pushed her way to stand between him and the Clothier, saying, “Back off! We have already had to deal with one asshole today, as well as a group of honorless mercenaries!”

  The man lost his attitude and stammered in return, “But it is important!”

  Coldly, Zhanna answered, “Then make an appointment!”

  Just then, the three Familiars slid to a stop by Zhanna and Genevieve, the three giant feline forms effectively pushing the Mage into a retreat. As they resumed their smaller size, the black Familiar reminded her Witch, << Remember that no one knows how long it will take to get to Paris and TT especially is getting a stronger sense of urgency. >>

  The Clothier chose that moment to pick up the packages that she had carried over before saying in an overly sweet tone, “These two are for Gennady and Fyodor, the two mercenaries that are going with TT and Jack. I had plenty of leather left after that, so I made a battledress for Dorinda.”

  Both the experienced Mercenary Witch and the Earth Elemental Witch had been waiting a little distance away from Zhanna and the Clothier. The Clothier’s words prompted them into a stumbling rush to take the packages from the woman’s hold with trembling hands and fractured thanks.

  Moving immediately over to the first row of arena seating, the men opened the packets and pulled the battledress out. Looking at the different components of the layered gear, the two men’s excited conversation was quickly supplemented by other mercenaries who jostled for position and a clear view of what the two men had been given. There were plenty of willing hands to help them dress and a lot of exclamations of enthusiastic approval.

  Genevieve then handed the third package to the suddenly weeping female mercenary, murmuring to the affected woman, “How about if you join me for a cup of tea after we see the mission depart, and I can go over some of the features that I built in it for you.” Dorinda nodded festively and clutched the precious bundle to her chest. The female mercenary stammered her agreement just as Dov approached.

  Still looking stressed and furious, the Guild Master apologized once more for the behavior of some of the Guild members. He added, “Unfortunately, I am going to be unable to see you off. Know that my best wishes and prayers go with you.” Turning his gaze to Zhanna, Dov said firmly, “Gustav and I will deal with this. Afterward, I will come and tell you what happened. Is that acceptable?”

  When Zhanna nodded her assent, a fragile smile showed on her old friend's face. Lifting his hand in farewell, the Guild Master made his way through the crowd, waving some people to follow him and others to leave.

  TT slipped over next to Gennady and told the Witch, << We will be leaving from the BHB. Join us there when you are ready to go. After all of this, I think some of us need a drink, and others need to relax from all the excitement. Just do not be too long because the sense of urgency grows by the minute. >>

  Both mercenary Witches nodded their agreement and promised that they would not be longer than an hour. Escorted by several of the mercenaries that were contracted to Zhanna, Genevieve, and the Witch made their way through the labyrinth of the Mercenary Guildhall and out onto the street.

  For the first time in several hours, Zhanna felt like she could take a deep breath. Moving quickly, Zhanna and the Clothier marched through the door of the BHB and over to a table that happened to be empty. Before they had even taken a breath, Wynn was there with drinks and an assortment plate from the Cook, Najeer.

  Smiling, the Clothier asked, “I see that we were expected. Do you know what happens now?”

  Laughing, Wynn responded, “You have something to eat and drink, followed by some stress-relieving venting before you say goodbye to the away mission.”

  Clinking glasses, the Clothier and the Witch agreed with the plan. What followed then was totally in line with the waitress’s orders.

  Chapter 49 – In a Strange Land

  Just Outside Paris, Earth

  Chimeg looked around at the swirling clouds that dotted the sky and painted the morning with shadows. The Journeyman Seer had awakened early this morning, driven by her growing sense of urgency and the knowledge that today they would be in Paris. In the quiet of the still morning, long before the rest of her camp was up and about, the woman had just crouched on the edge of the waystation area and glanced into the surrounding landscape. Without urgent tasks to perform or people to organize, Chimeg was able to relax and take in her surroundings.

  The trees and grasses were strange, and unlike anything familiar. Even the small animals that came and went through the underbrush or flew from one tree branch to another screamed a warning of strangeness to her. The reality of how far they had come from her home struck the young woman like a bolt of grief. Fighting back tears, Chimeg stifled the sound of her sobs as a wave of anxiety and crushing responsibility threatened to overwhelm her.

  A comforting mental voice spoke softly, saying, << I was wondering when all of the weirdness was going to catch up with you. At least it has happened before we join up with even more people, and where we have a chance of some privacy. >> Slipping into place next to the distraught woman, Martina stretched her gigantic canine form out and leaned against Chimeg’s leg, beaming reassurance and unconditional support to the young Seer over their Familiar bond.

  Roughly scrubbing her face with her hands, Chimeg answered her woefully, << I feel so inadequate! Now that we are on the verge of meeting up with the Witch Jeremiah, I realize how little skill and experience I have at any of this. How am I going to get all of these people to a place where he can meet us? >>

  Martina replied, << You will do the best you can. It is not just you that has responsibility. Remember that we are a team and possess many skills. Do not try to shoulder the entire burden when you have others that are willing to help. >>

  The young Seer knew that her Familiar was correct, remembering that it had only been two days since they had first experimented with the accelerated method of travel that the Priest and Witch referred to as Folded Steps. The first day had been tense and frightening, as they both created a new spell and determine some of the dangers and vulnerabilities that such a method incurred.

  The exhaustion that some of the caravan members felt after the two portal transits during the first day had been largely eliminated after a good night's sleep. The Priests had been more exhilarated than tired, but they still worked themselves into a pleasant level of exhaustion as they had spent hours in thankful worship to their Deities once camp was made.

  Chimeg had been so tired herself after the two initial transits that she had gratefully delegated the setting of the watch and other protective strategies to the combined fighting force of the Mongolian warriors and the Familiars. Falling asleep as soon as she had lain down next to her Familiar, the young woman was shocked when she had awakened in the morning to realize that somehow during the previous day, the disparate parts of her party had become a team.

  The group further refined their procedure for traveling on the second day, allowing Khan Oktai, the Black Eagle Familiar, to range further away from them before attempting the Folded Step spellcasting. By extending the distance that was folded into a single portal, Chimeg’s caravan had been able to claim their current waystation far earlier in the day than most travelers were willing to stop. Since they filled the campsite to overflowing, no other merchant or group made an effort to join them.

  They were also camped closer to Paris than they had initially planned. After discussion with representatives from each of the Familiar groups and the Wizard, Witch, and Priest, Chimeg had decided that stopping closer to Paris would give them more time to locate Jeremiah, and would still get them out of sight before others might come to occupy the waystation the following evening.

  Once they had stopped for the day, Chimeg had come to realize how uneasy she had grown. There was a constant pressure that raised goosebumps on her skin and put a hitch in her breathing, telling her that she was being watched. The force of spying eyes seemed to be ever-present and inescapable. It did not help that every place she turned, the young Seer saw Ravens and small animal eyes peering at her through the underbrush. The enormous black birds raised an instinctual warning of danger in the young woman’s mind, and she had become nervous and jumpy, waiting for some of the forest animals to leap out at her and attack.

  << I keep telling you, that the birds and the creatures in the brush are no danger to you! I think you are frightening yourself for no good reason. After all, you have all of us to help protect the party. >> Martina’s voice was bracing, and Chimeg knew that her Familiar was probably right. It was just that she could not shrug off the growing feeling of danger. The young woman found herself glancing around frequently in an effort to detect from which direction the attack might come.

  The dense forest around her felt as if it was crowding her from all directions, stifling her breath and limiting her options. Already she longed for the open expanses of the Steppes, with its windblown grasses and rolling hills. Denied the ability to see the horizon, the young woman felt adrift and unsure.

  Already, just after daybreak, the road to Paris was crowded with wagons, beasts, and even some of the strange contraptions that moved without the benefit of Mage or Wizard. Hugh had explained to her that they were called automobiles or trucks depending on their size, and had tried to describe what made them move. Chimeg had listened to his words but had fallen short of comprehending them. The young woman felt overwhelmed and out of place, unable to process any more strangeness.

  The smell of strong coffee brought Chimeg’s face up with a hopeful expression. An unstrained and pleased smile appeared on her face as she recognized the Eagle Hunter, Gan Gerel, walking toward her with a large steaming mug in each hand. An answering grin was on the other woman’s face as she handed one of the cups to the Seer.

  “Good morning, Chimeg. Khan Oktai took off to scout ahead about an hour ago. He reported that he had found the outskirts of Paris within a very few minutes of leaving here. Right now, my Eagle Familiar is gliding in lazy circles high in the sky to locate the home of the Witch Jeremiah that he was shown by his communication with Glenfrey.”

  “That is excellent news, Gan Gerel! I suppose we had better start to pack up the camp and get ready to go, even though being able to have a lazy morning would be wonderful,” answered the Seer.

  The Eagle Hunter laughed, saying, “Too late to tell us to do that, as we are already breaking camp. The morning meal is almost ready, and I was sent to make sure that you came and ate. Apparently, you have concerned our cooks by not eating much, and they worry that it is taking a toll on your energy and emotions.”

  Taking a deep breath, Chimeg stood up, still clutching the mug of coffee, and walked back with Gan Gerel to the central campfire. Obediently taking a heaping plate from Rada, the Witch that had answered Dochin’s Call, the young Seer seated herself on a convenient bench and began to eat.

  Less than 30 minutes later, Gan Gerel came running over to where Chimeg was seeing to her horse. Breathlessly, the Eagle Hunter said, “Khan Oktai has made contact with Jeremiah’s Familiar, a feline by the name of Davin. Jeremiah will meet us at the property later this afternoon. However, Davin strongly recommends that we move as quickly as we can from here to the protected facility. Apparently, we are very close to a Witch that is known to be aligned with the Blood Mages. She is both powerful and dangerous, and always looking for more prey.”

  Chimeg felt a cold wind blow across her shoulders, and the recognizable drag of a Vision changed her eyes to swirling silver, as she felt herself falling, washed in heat.

  The world around the young Seer swirled, and a golden glow scrubbed everything out of her Vision for just a moment. A partially transparent view of her party packed and waiting, filling their time with casual conversation floated in the air. Chimeg could feel an oppressive presence and knew that evil was on its way. Helpless to affect the outcome of this dreaming, the young Seer watched in horror as Blood Mages appeared encircling her group. They struck down the Wizard and her Mongolian warriors with spells of destruction and poison before anyone could react. As the Familiars and the other Magic users tried to escape, the horrified woman saw them die or be captured one after another