Swords & Dark Magic - By Jonathan Strahan Page 0,19

into the shit.

Seemed like it took about fourteen electric seconds for all six hundred and some men to sense that something was up. That life was about to change. That I might not make it to a hundred days without somebody trying to kill me.

The cards had stopped moving already when Hagop loped up from the direction of the compound. “Elmo. Croaker. Goblin. One-Eye. The Old Man wants you.”

One-Eye grumbled, “Goblin had to go open his big goddamn mouth.”

Two minutes earlier, Goblin had muttered, “Something’s up. There’s something in the wind.”

I kicked in, “Yeah. This is all his fault. Let’s pound his ass if it turns out we have to go flush some Rebels somewhere again.”

“Weak, Croaker.” Elmo shoved back from the table. “But I second that emotion. I’d almost forgotten how nice it is for garrison troopers.” He went on about clean clothing, ample beer, regular meals, and almost unlimited access to a soldier’s favorite way of wasting time and money.

We headed down the street, leaving the cards to the others, who were already speculating. I said, “Garrison duty is all that. The hardest work I’ve got to do is to weasel One-Eye into using his curative on guys who come in with the clap.”

One-Eye said, “I like garrison because of the financial opportunities.”

He would. Put him down anywhere and give him a week, he’ll be into some kind of black-market scam.

Hagop sidled close, whispered, “I need to talk to you, private.” He slipped me a folded piece of parchment maybe three and a half inches to a side. It was dirty and it smelled bad. One face had a small triangular tear where it had hung up on something. Hagop looked like he might panic when I opened it.

I stopped walking. The others did, too, wondering what was up. I whispered, “Where did you get this?”

The Company maintained a compound outside the city, on a heath blasted barren back when Whisper arrived to negotiate the treaties by which Aloe gained the perquisites of participation in the Lady’s empire. First among those was continued existence for Aloe and its dependent environs. The compound was nothing exciting. There was a curtain wall of dried mud brick. Everything inside was adobe, too, lightly plastered to resist the rain.

The compound was all brown. A man with a discerning eye might identify shades, but us barbarians only saw brown. Even so, I had a discerning enough eye to spot a new brown patch before Hagop pointed it out.

A flying carpet lay tucked into the shade on the eastern side of the headquarters building. My companions had equally discerning eyes but less troubled hearts.

We were part of a stream, now. Every officer and platoon sergeant had been summoned. Sometimes the Captain gets his butt hairs in a twist and pulls everybody in for an impromptu motivational speech. But there was one critical difference this time.

There was a flying carpet in the shade beside the HQ.

There are, at most, six of those in existence, and only six beings capable of using them.

We were blessed with the presence of one of the Taken.

The happy days were over. Hell had taken a nap but now it was wide awake and raring to go.

Nobody overlooked the carpet. No shoulders failed to slump.

I said, “You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up in a minute. Hagop. Show me.”

He headed for the shade. For the carpet. “I saw it here. I never seen a carpet up close before so I decided to check it out.” He walked me through his experience. One glance at the carpet reaffirmed what I already knew. This unkempt, poorly maintained mess belonged to the Limper.

“I found that folded thing right here.”

Right here would be the place where the Taken sat while the carpet was aloft. The carpet there was especially frayed, stretched, and loose.

Hagop’s finger indicated a fold of material torn away from the wooden frame underneath. “It was mostly covered. It was hung up on that brad.”

A small nail had worked loose maybe three-sixteenths of an inch. A wisp of parchment remained stuck to it. I removed that with my knife, careful to make no personal contact.

“I picked it up. Before I could even look at it the Captain came out and told me to go get you guys.”

“All right. Stay out of sight. We’ll talk later.” I was going to be last inside if I did not hustle.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“It could be bad. Scoot on into town. Don’t tell anybody about this.”

The mess

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