Брайан Макклеллан - Wrath of Empire

She talked to a hundred prospectors each day under the guise of looking for a quiet, but well-paying job, and had heard enough gossip from them to fill an entire lifetime. Everyone had news of the distant war – that the loss of Landfall was enemy propaganda, that Lindet had been captured and hanged by the Dynize – and everyone had an opinion on Burt and Jezzy. Between the two, everyone agreed, Jezzy was the more heavy-handed but had more money. People seemed to like Burt, but in most Kressians’ eyes he was still a filthy Palo.

She returned from the hills on the fourth day with her eyes bloodshot and her feet hurting. Seventeen prospectors had offered her a job – most of them on behalf of the two big bosses – and no less than twice that many had offered graphic descriptions of what their sex life would be like if she followed them back to their tent.

She was irritable and coming up empty-handed, and it did not improve her mood when a man of about thirty fell into step beside her as she headed toward her hotel through the Palo district.

He was nearly six feet tall, with blond hair and blue eyes; a wide, pleasant face wrinkled from scars and smile lines; and a broad-shouldered build that made her think of Rosvelean sailors. He carried a pistol and sword, and wore a bicorn and red bandanna with a loose-fitting white shirt, sailor’s boots, and a long-tailed dressing coat that had seen better days. He looked like a damned storybook pirate.

But what caught Vlora’s attention was not the way he was dressed but rather the way he smelled – he reeked of black powder, and she barely had to touch her sorcerous senses to know that this man was a powder mage.

She kept walking, pretending she hadn’t noticed him, and let her hand fall on the pommel of her sword. She pushed away her exhaustion, senses prepared, her heart beating quickly. She’d never fought a powder mage before – not for real. She’d sparred and practiced, and she’d considered all the theories about what a fight between two mages would entail, but never before engaged in true combat. As she looked up from her thoughts, she found herself shocked that he was walking beside her instead of putting a bullet in her head from across town.

“It’s a lovely evening,” he said, clearing his throat.

Vlora stopped, turning toward him, putting her best card-playing face forward. “What do you want?”

He offered his hand. “My name is Nohan. Pleased to meet you.”

Hesitantly, expecting a trap, Vlora took his hand. He squeezed a bit too hard, with too broad of a smile, and Vlora snatched back her hand and watched him cautiously. “Verundish. What do you want?”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

It was not a question Vlora expected, but her immediate thought was to get this man off the street and out of the open. If this came to a fight, she would have to do things that would not easily be explained to onlookers. “Sure,” she said, nodding to a bar across the street. “There.”

The bar was obviously a Palo establishment, but it was small and nearly empty, and the proprietor didn’t question them when they ordered drinks.

“You’re Adran,” Nohan observed after they’d been served.

Vlora tried to guess his accent. “And you’re Starlish.”

He nodded. “Very good. I wouldn’t have expected to see an Adran powder mage in this part of the world. You here with those mercenaries down south?” His tone was light, even friendly, and Vlora tried to loosen the knot in between her shoulder blades. Tensing up would not help things if this came to a fight.

“Avoiding them, more like,” she answered.

“Understandable. That General Flint is a real bitch. You don’t want to cross her. She’ll try to recruit you, and kill you if she can’t.”

Vlora barely resisted laughing in his face. “Is that so? I’ve never met her.”

“I have,” Nohan said, using the opportunity to lower his voice and move a little closer. “Her goons chased me halfway across Adro a few years ago when I told them I wasn’t interested in joining her cabal.”

“No kidding?” Vlora’s mind raced, trying to remember if any such thing had ever happened. She’d never seen this man before in her life, but the name was vaguely familiar. Had one of her underlings gotten into a scrap with him?

“No kidding,” Nohan confirmed. He put money on the bar, enough for both their drinks, and clinked his against hers. “But I gotta stay independent, if you know what I mean. More money in that.”

Vlora fiddled with her drink, hoping that he wasn’t smart enough to plan ahead and have her poisoned. She had picked the bar, so she doubted that. “So you’re the other mage in town, eh?”

“Aside from you and your boyfriend, yeah.”

“He’s just my partner,” Vlora said. She realized her mistake too late as Nohan’s eyes moved up and down her body. His nose twitched, and he none too subtly removed a powder charge from his breast pocket and cut the end with his thumb, sniffing delicately. Vlora did the same, almost laughing at the thought of a powder mage after-dinner club where they all sat around drinking and running powder trances.

She could see the thoughts turning in his head, and decided to press her own questions before he could come on to her. “I’m told you’re working for Jezzy.”

“That’s right.”

“I spoke with Burt a few nights ago. I think he pays a lot more than Jezzy.”

“He might,” Nohan admitted. “I didn’t check. But Jezzy’s got the upper hand. I like to get paid and end up on the winning side.”

“I’m guessing you know that I already turned Jezzy down, right?” Vlora asked.

Nohan barked a laugh. “Heard what you did to poor Dorner. Your partner did him a favor skewering him. Living a life with no tongue?” He clicked his tongue twice, then laughed again. The sound was tinged with cruelty.

“I turned down Burt, too, if that’s why you’re here. I’m not interested in working for either of them, so you can go back to your boss and tell her.” Vlora finished her glass and raised it to Nohan. “I appreciate the drink, but I’m not for sale.” She turned to go, deciding it was best to withdraw from this before he could get a chance to try for blood.

Nohan snatched her by the arm. “That’s not why I’m here, lover.”

“Excuse me?” Vlora felt her chest grow tight. His grip was too firm, his tone too familiar.

“I’m here to offer you and your partner something a little different.”

“Which is?”

Nohan leaned forward until their faces were almost touching and spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone. “We’ve got three powder mages here. Three of us, we could gut this whole damned town. Pick ’em off, cut ’em down. Doesn’t matter how, we’ve got the strength.”

“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting,” Vlora said, though she had an inkling. The sparkle in Nohan’s eye when he said “cut ’em down” was just a little too obvious.

“I’m talking a slaughter. We take out the big bosses, get their two armies fighting each other, and we set fire to the town and go a-hunting. We kill everything with two legs and there’ll be no one to stop us from loading up a mule train with gold and heading for the coast. We’ll be in Gurla, living like kings, before anyone knows what’s happened.”

Vlora’s fingers itched for her sword. “That’s … quite an offer.”

“I know,” he said with a grin.

“You already took Jezzy’s coin.”

“So?”

“If you’re willing to betray one partner, why the pit would I trust you?”

Nohan tightened his grip on her arm. “Because you’re strong. You’re a mage, like me. I’m not stupid. I won’t betray someone who can fight back.”