Strong Mystery: Murder, Mystery and Magic Books 1-3 (Steampunk Magica) (11 page)

 Surly Man, as Owen had decided
to call him, opened the wooden gate that guarded the back of the store and
pointed through a curtain.

“He is downstairs,” Surly Man
said, holding the gate open. As soon as Jinhao was through the gate, Surly Man
slammed it shut in front of Owen.

“Not you,” he said in English.
He gave Owen a stony stare that Owen was sure was supposed to be intimidating.
“That a problem?”

Owen twitched aside his cape,
revealing his cane. He adopted an attitude of casual waiting as he leaned on
it.  Owen watched Surly Man’s eyes flicker down to the cane, and saw his body
stiffen.  Owen smiled at him. Surly Man recognized the cane for what it was.

 “No problem at all,” he
reassured Surly Man cheerily, also in English. He looked past Surly Man to
Jinhao. “Have a nice time dear. One hour please, and remember what else I
said.”

Jinhao rounded on Surly Man in
hissed Mandarin, “I vouch for this man! He is to come as well!”

Surly Man hissed right back,

“Things are different now! You
want to see Roberet, this is how it is!”

Owen pretended not to understand
a word of what they were saying. Sometimes it was a good thing to be
under-estimated. Jinhao looked to Owen,

“I am sorry for his rudeness,”
she said in English. “I will be back shortly for you.”

Owen waved a hand, and settled
himself for the wait.

“Really, it is alright. I shall
wait here. Mind what I said though!”

With a nod she went through the
curtain while Surly Man held it open. Another man, big with muscle just going
to fat, squeezed through from the other side, passing her by. He looked
belligerently at Owen. Owen decided he would call him Burly Man. Surly Man
spoke with Burly Man for a moment then Surly Man also vanished behind the
curtain. 

Yes, it was a good thing to be
under-estimated sometimes, Owen reflected. He was certain that if Surly Man
knew Owen spoke Mandarin, he would have been much quieter when ordering Burly
Man to wait a count of one thousand before killing him.   

Chapter 9

Jinhao had known that there was something wrong from
the moment that the stranger behind the counter had tried to send her away
.

Perhaps she should have left then, but she held that Roberet
was a friend, and if he was in trouble, she would help. Cautiously she stepped
down the wooden stairs towards what appeared to be a storage cellar, a single
hanging mage light trying, in vain, to banish the murky shadows. The clerk from
upstairs was behind her.

Focusing her will, she heard the breathing of six, no, seven
men hiding among the crates.  One of them apparently knew how to watch his
breathing.  Even if they all possessed guns, she judged that an encounter would
be within her capabilities.  She then heard the clerk draw an edged weapon,
probably a knife, from inside his tunic. Instead of turning, she continued to
play along as expected, pausing on the bottom step to turn back in apparent
confusion.

“Where is Roberet?” 

The clerk brandished his knife in her face.

“Keep walking,” he snarled. “Right out into the middle of the
room.”  If she took the knife away from him, broke his arm and then smashed in
his ugly face, she might never learn the fate of Roberet. Instead, she
remembered to look startled, and then, turning quickly, scampered to the center
of the room.

Once Jinhao was under the mage light, shapes appeared from out of
the shadows that resolved into hard-faced men holding weapons of different
kinds, swords, knives, and clubs. One of the men in a black tunic and pants,
holding a saber, stepped fully into the light, regarding her with dead eyes.

“What is this,” he asked the clerk with a jerk of his head
towards her.

“She came in with a
Quizi
Sorcerer, and asked for
Roberet shameless as could be,” the clerk replied.  “I figure them both for
spies.” The other men stirred at his words, muttering. “We should leave here
now; they may have the place already surrounded.”

Saber wielder silenced the others with a single gesture. His
saber flowed up from his side until the edge was on line with Jinhao’s neck
while he edged forward.

“Is this true,” he demanded. “Have you brought the
Quizi
here?”

Jinhao regarded the man. Not only the leader, but he had
instilled a measure of discipline in the others. She approved.  From his
movements, she would judge that he had some training in one of the northern
sword schools, but not training in the military, and certainly not from an
Adept school. She decided to stop playing the game.

“Not all foreigners are
quizi
,” she replied levelly. “He
is a friend. I have already given your man here the recognition signs, which
should be enough. Where is Roberet?”

The leader must have seen something in her eyes. His stance
shifted from a careless ‘let’s threaten the girl’ pose to a ready fight stance.
Neither his eyes, nor the sword, moved away from her.  Calmly, he turned to the
clerk.

“Is this so? Did she give you the recognition signs?”

“She did give me the signs for the thieves,” the clerk
sputtered, “But not our signs. Why are we wasting time talking? Let us kill the
spying bitch, and get out of here!”

“Wait,” the voice came from the shadows. Jinhao figured that it
must belong to the one who knew how to regulate his breathing. She was
surprised when a swarthy foreigner stepped into the light. He was gaudily
dressed in red and green striped pants, with high boots and a black vest. A sky
jack then, one who crewed a sky ship. 

Around his hips were strapped two
aether
guns in cross-draw
holsters. Jinhao took in the expensive weapons, including a bandolier of the
faintly glowing reloads and revised her estimate. Not merely crew, she
surmised, but most likely a captain, and a successful one at that.

“If she has the signs, then she might be one of ours,” the man
said. He stopped at the edge of the circle of light, hands resting easily on
his gun belt.

“Do you recognize her,” asked the leader.

“No,” the sky jack replied easily. “But that means nothing. I
will call for Madame, and we should also gather in her companion. There may be
a misunderstanding here.”

“Too late for the
quizi
, I told Fat to kill him.” The clerk
snapped while hopping from foot to foot. “I tell you—Ahuggh!”

Whatever else the clerk might have told them was cut off by
Jinhao’s right sword spearing into his throat. She pivoted in a blur of speed,
the blade ripping free in a spray of blood, while her left blade severed the
weapon hand of the man next to him. The leader was still struggling to free
himself from Jinhao’s night cloak, with which she had entangled him.

The sky jack was uncommonly fast, she noticed. He had already
drawn his
aether
-guns, though he had not yet brought them to bear. She
gathered herself to execute a forward roll that would bring her upright inside
his aim and within reach of her blades. Killing the surly clerk first had been
an indulgence she hoped not to regret.

She was a muscle twitch from starting the roll, when the sky jack
shouted in surprise and dropped his guns as if they had become suddenly too hot
to hold. Around her, cries of shock were accompanied by the clatter of weapons
hitting the floor.

Owen had arrived.

She spared a glance at the stairs.  Owen stood on the steps,
illuminated by a blue glow from his cane jewel on the one hand, and a bright,
flickering of flames between the fingers of his other hand.

“No one moves unless you wish to taste the flames,” he shouted
in Mandarin, fingers weaving bright patterns in menace.

No one moved.

He spared Jinhao a smile and a greeting in English.

“There you are Jinhao! It seems that your friends play somewhat
rough.” He nodded towards the men still gripping their hands in pain.

 Jinhao spent a heartbeat in marvel at the control he
exhibited. She knew Western Sorcerers could call up elements such as fire. To
direct that fearsome force such that it heated the weapons alone required
discipline that was seldom seen.

Straightening up in a centering move, she flicked her blades
clean of blood, allowing herself to show a smile back at him. He did indeed
look like a foreign demon, standing on the shadowed stairs, with fire light
flickering over his face.

Though she knew what effort it took Owen to work such Magia, he
appeared completely relaxed.   

“They are hardly my friends,” she replied also in English. “In
fact, I have not been properly introduced to any of them.”  She gestured with a
sword at the defeated enemies. “Stand over there, where we can see you all,”
she ordered. The cowed men shuffled obediently into a line.

The leader, who had finally freed himself from her cloak,
snarled at her, spittle running down his chin as he held onto his burned hand.

“Traitorous sow,” he spat in Mandarin.  “It matters not whether
you are paid by that foul harridan who calls herself Empress, or by the foreign
demons themselves! Your day will come! The people will be free!” He vowed.

Jinhao looked at him coolly. “I should have known that only
someone as stupid as a revolutionary would seek to kill based on association
alone. We care nothing for your politics, nor are we with the Pinchers.” She
raised her swords slightly. “Although should you ever again imply that I am a
minion of the monster that warms the throne, you shall be a head shorter, I
promise you.” The man went silent, glaring hatred. “Now,” she demanded briskly,
“Where is Roberet?”

“Jinhao,” Owen interrupted. “There are others entering the room
from the back.”

“He is safely with me,” came a voice from the darkness. Jinhao
knew that voice, though she did not expect to hear it here. A Chin woman stood
at the edge of the light, a pair of sabers in her hands. She looked at Jinhao
with no more recognition than Jinhao hoped she reflected back.

“It is all right Owen,” Jinhao cried out. “These are my
friends.”

“I have many armed fighters at my back,” the woman said. Jinhao
could hear them as they attempted to pad silently into the room, while keeping
to the deeper shadows. “They will shoot you all down where you stand.” The
woman looked up at Owen. “Put down your cane, Sorcerer.”

Owen grinned at her, his face shadowed like a skull. The woman
was bold, he’d give her that. No Sorcerer would willingly be parted from their Focus.
It didn’t matter how many elemental marks were bound into the skin, without a Focus
a Sorcerer was helpless to call on them.

  “Oh, I rather think not,” he returned. “You could tell your
people to put down their guns. Even air rifles can be made to explode, you
know.”

The woman’s head swiveled to the foreign skyjack. “I hope you
can explain this Rodrigo.”

“Madame,” the sky jack began, “I was just having a discussion with
Senor Liu here.”

“You were attempting to rob us in our hour of glory!” The
leader of the rebels shouted.

“Be silent.” The woman had command in her voice. “You show a
remarkable lack of awareness for your position. I will come to you.” She turned
back to the sky jack. “Continue.”

The sky jack bowed his head to her.

“As you wish, Madame,” he acknowledged. “As I was saying, I was
discussing things with Senor Liu when one of his men brought in the young woman
with the swords. He said that she was a spy, even though she knew our
recognition signs, and he intended to kill both her and her Sorcerer companion
there.” He gestured at Owen.

“I was attempting to stop this folly when the young woman took
matters into her own hands, so to speak. That is Liu’s man over there without
his head.” He indicated the bloody body on the floor.

“At that point, the Sorcerer entered the discussion with the
trick of making all our weapons too hot to hold.” The sky jack made a shrugging
motion with his hands. “That was how things stood when Madame entered.” He
looked up at Owen, “That was an impressive trick.”

“Thank you,” Owen returned with a slight bow. “I have plenty
more I can show you if need be,” flames still flickering between his fingers.

“That should not be necessary,” ‘Madame’ replied. She turned
towards Liu. “Is what he says true, Liu? Are you really that stupid?”

“It is true that Yang brought her down here,” Liu protested in
Mandarin. “But I was still making sure of things. This was my meeting and my
responsibility. We cannot be too careful when we are so close.”

“Oh shut up,” Madame snapped. “You are close to nothing. And
you can speak English, it won’t sully your mouth.” She held up her free hand.
“Wait, I have reconsidered that. Do not speak at all, just leave. Our
association is at an end.”

Liu opened his mouth, appeared to reconsider, and then opened
it again
,
looking like a fish.

“Let us take our weapons at least. And there is one dead man,
and one maimed one to be accounted for.”

Madame raised her sabers.

“Count yourself lucky I let you leave with your heads. As for
your men, as you say, your meeting, your responsibility. Now go, before I lose
all patience and forget how inconvenient killing you would be!” Madame looked
up at Owen, still poised on the stairs.

“Master Sorcerer, would you, of your kindness, please come down
from the stairs that these men may leave?”

At a slight nod from Jinhao, Owen snuffed the flames between
his fingers.

“Of course,” he replied. He sauntered down the steps and stood
near Jinhao as the woeful group of revolutionaries marched up the stairs,
Madame’s men prodding them along with the barrels of their military-grade
rifles.

Soon, only Jinhao and Owen faced the sky jack and the woman he
had called Madame. Jinhao was very aware that at least two of her men had faded
back into the shadows. It was likely that even now, Owen and she were targeted
by hidden weapons. 

“I understand that you are seeking Roberet,” the woman said. It
was not a question, though Jinhao chose to answer it as if it were.

“Yes,” Jinhao replied. “I am called Jinhao. My friend and I
need to speak with him on a matter totally unrelated to what just happened.”

The skyjack bent to retrieve his
aether
-guns in one
fluid motion, with both guns holstered by the time he came erect. He looked at
Owen.

“That was a very impressive trick. I am Rodrigo de Vega,
Captain of the
Windfahr
. Who do I have the honor of addressing?”

Owen bowed and stood easily, facing Rodrigo.

“I am Owen Strong. I apologize if my ‘trick’ as you call it,
caused you any discomfort, Captain. In my defense, I was rather hurried. I
would never seek to make an enemy of so renowned a pirate as yourself.”

Rodrigo stroked his moustaches at this, nodding.

“I prefer to call myself a free trader. Likely you are
confusing me with my famous cousin, Rafael.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It is
a common mistake. But I assure you, no apologies are needed. There is no shame
in being tricked by the renowned Lord Strong of the Britannic Empire.”

“You are generous Captain,” Owen replied. “But I fear that you
may be confusing me with my brother, who is Lord Strong of Strong. I have
little renown compared to either my brother, or my late father.”

De Vega smiled at him.

“Ah, it can be so confusing who is who in these strange lands,
yes? Still, I am honored to make your acquaintance, Lord Strong.”

“The honor is mine, Captain de Vega,” Owen returned with a
similar smile.

“If you two peacocks are quite finished shaking your tail
feathers, perhaps you, Rodrigo, could show Lord Strong to Roberet,” the regal
woman ordered. “I wish to have discussion with this Jinhao for a moment.”

“Forgive me,” Owen said to her before the Captain could
respond. “But I wish to thank you for your intervention. I believe you know who
I am, but I have not had the pleasure…”