Red woke to someone banging on his door.

  It was Reggie. “Wake up, you lazy ass. Time to work.”

  Red sat up. His body ached less, shoulder only stiff. The meds Reggie had given him helped a lot. “Yeah, I’m up.”

  “Downstairs. Breakfast. Ten minutes.”

  After dressing and washing up, he made his way to the restaurant in the lobby. Tapestries covering the restaurant’s beige walls depicted a magical battle between men and serpents. Half of the dozen tables had people sitting at them. Reggie waved from the back of the room closest to the kitchen door. Upon arrival, it appeared Reggie had ordered one of everything. A large teracotta terrine of soup dominated the table flanked by two tortilleros stuffed full of tortillas. A wide skillet with sliced meat sizzled next to a large plate of enchiladas and a dozen taquitos laced with a green and white sauce. In front of Reggie and the empty chair next to him, a glass of juice, a mug of coffee, and plate loaded with tacos and all the trimmings, waited for him.

  Red sat in front of the unclaimed tacos. “Think this is a bit much?”

  Reggie scoffed before shoving a taquito in his mouth and spoke while still chewing. “We are in the field. You have to keep your calories up, you know that. Look at you. I swear you dropped a pant size since we started this trip.”

  Red tucked a finger into his pants. They were a little loose. “Still. We can’t eat all this.”

  “Maybe you can’t but I’ll be damned if I don’t try. Besides.” Reggie took another bite. “You can’t get mushroom tortillas and cave rat taquitos like this pretty much anywhere besides the Cuāuhtli Empire.”

  “Okay. Fine. Forget I said anything.” Red took a sip of coffee. It had a darker, almost herbal quality to it, but still good. “After you finish stuffing your gullet, then what? We go find lunch?”

  Reggie squinted his face in disgust. “Very funny. No. Zapata has a metal shop at the edge of town. We go and say hi.” Reggie pointed at the taquitos. “You have got to try those. Mercy they are good.” He snatched another and put it on his plate. “If I had to guess, they are not going to take kindly to a bunch of topsiders knocking on their door demanding answers.”

  Red took another sip. “So, what are we expecting, a few dozen dirt magic capable individuals and maybe one or two conjurers? Maybe a low-level mage?”

  Dirt magic was the study of techniques for those who worked with dirt and rock. It allowed you to manipulate the individual pieces of sediment en masse. While useful for those living underground and not easy to learn, it wasn’t the most useful for combat.

  Reggie waved a half-eaten taquito at Red. “Maybe. But they will have us outnumbered. So, we should try the friendly approach if possible. Try to kill them with kindness and not actually kill them. Right?”

  Fat chance. It was going to be fight. Better to have all the carbs he could before they got there and then proceeded to shove food down his gullet.

  After breakfast they strolled by Zapata’s Metalworks, a wide three-story building with a gated yard in the back. Most buildings in the underworld were crafted from a conglomeration of dirt and rock magically merged into a concrete like material, and this building was no different. It made it easy to erect structures that would last.

  A metal Quetzalcoatl almost a story tall assembled from leftover parts, stood atop the building like a beautiful and dangerous warning. The large feathery serpent with sharp teeth and a hooked beak glowered at anyone passing by, as if guarding the only entry to the building. Below it was a rusty door next to a garage door. Over the general din of the domed city the sound of metal clanking, the hiss of steam, and hammers came from the work yard behind the building.

  After they had finished their first pass in front of the building and were turning around, Reggie said, “Did you see that gorgeous Quetzalcoatl sculpture? That’s a good sign.”

  The large teeth didn’t put Red at ease in anyway. “You got friendly from that?”

  “Quetzalcoatl is the god of creation, wisdom, and art, which makes sense since they obviously create metal works here. It probably means they’re smart people and can be reasoned with. We should start with a straightforward friendly approach.”

  Reggie did know this society better than Red. But he adjusted Rubemort in its scabbard almost as a defensive instinct. “Whatever you say.”

  Since it was a business, they tried the front door and unsurprisingly, it opened.

  Inside they found a reception area with long tan counter of the same material as the building. On the either side and behind the counter were sturdy metal doors. A man with a handlebar mustache and wrinkled reddish skin tapped at a computer behind the counter. In a friendly, deep voice he said, “Yeah, can I help you?”

  Reggie delivered his smarmiest smile. “Hi. We’d like to speak with Fransica Zapata.”

  The man looked up from the computer and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. You have an appointment?”

  Reggie approached the desk, smile intensifying as if his face were going to explode with joy. “Not exactly. See we’re from the Rochechouart and haven’t been able to get through to Misses Zapata…We were in town and figured, hey, let’s just stop by.”

  “Yeah,” the man said. “Because of the recent black out of communications and all. Right?”

  Reggie nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Yeah, okay, well I don’t think Miss…” He let that word linger for a second. “Zapata wants to meet topsiders such as yourself.”

  Reggie waved his hand. “No, you don’t understand, Rochechouart isn’t topside.”

  The man waved a hand back. “Yeah, no, you don’t understand. I know Rochechouart isn’t from topside. But you two are.”

  Reggie huffed. “Fine. But we still want to speak with her.”

  The man resumed looking at his computer. “Yeah, sorry. She doesn’t want to speak with no topsiders.”

  Reggie huffed. “Fine.” He placed a USB stick on the counter. “This stick has every Netflix show from last year on it.”

  The man’s eyes locked onto the stick, but his face remained stoic.

  Reggie tilted his head. “And a little something for your trouble.” He placed a glowing follis down, worth almost two hundred nummus.

  The man nodded and took USB stick and follis. “Yeah, okay. Excuse me.” He left through the door behind him.

  Red leaned over the counter and pointed at the phone on the desk. “He didn’t call that in. You just got taken for a ride.”

  “No. This is how these things work. Sometimes you just have to ease things along with a little lubrication, if you know what I mean. He’s probably going to get her right now.”

  “Speaking of lubrication, I’ll bet you a tube of that lube I owe you that the only way we see Zapata is to start punching and breaking.”

  “It’s not lube, it’s moisturizer, you…you brut. God you really do belong in the Wrecht Order.”

  Red found the lone chair in the corner and sat. “How you use lube is your own business. Cover your body in it, so be it. I don’t judge people’s kinks.”

  Reggie scoffed. “You’re impossible.”

  Red looked around. Damn. No reading material anywhere. This was going to be a boring wait. He wasn’t giving them more than five minutes because they didn’t have the decency to have something read. He checked his watch and started the wait.

  After two minutes, Reggie started to tap on the counter. After two more, he started to pace. The noisy shop in back had gone quiet. Not a good sign. Right as Red was about to speak, Reggie yelled, “Damn it. That moisturize was expensive. Come on.” Reggie started to walk around the counter.

  Red rose from his chair and stretched his shoulder. It was still tender but ready for a fight. “Are you sure? You don’t want to give them some more time to get ready for us?”

  “Quit being an asshole.” Reggie stopped. “You know what? For that little comment, you can go first.”

  Red stepped past Reggie and braced himself with a shield. ESH and adrenaline pumped through him in the anticipation of battle. He put his ear to the door and listened. Nothing. He pushed to open it, but a wall of ESH pushed back. It had been magically sealed. The whole wall pulsed with ESH. He drew Rubemort and slashed. Sparks flew. He swung again and again. Each strike sizzled less and less as the barrier weakened. With one last blow, the sword cut through the door like it was jelly.

  He kicked the remains of the door in. A wide yard covered only by the city dome above was quiet as if waiting for the fury of the inevitable confrontation. In the rear, an industrial electric arc furnace exhaled burning orange from its open mouth, like it was waiting to breathe fire on any who dare get nearby. To the left, a row of empty tooling stations lit with power lights stood deserted. Bins of raw and machined mechanical parts accompanied each station ready for workers who weren’t there. The building walls curved to the right where two pneumatic hammer stations stood staring back with glowing green lights. Large conduits of wires and steam lines crawled through the yard feeding the hungry machines that all waited.

  Red flexed his shoulder and arm muscles as if a strike from somewhere were coming any second. “This is a little eerie.”

  “Oh look,” Reggie said somewhat a little too excited, like a tourist pointing out the sights. “See the Xiuhcoatl figures? They’re just wonderful.” In the four corners of the yard, metallic figures with oversized boxy heads and armed with sharp black teeth clung to posts with their serpentine bodies. Their oversized fire opal eyes seem to watch them as Red and Reggie walked in.

  Red kept his sword up, moving towards a closed garage door to the back right. It was most likely the place to have people. “We’re just here to ask some questions,” Red yelled.

  Reggie followed behind. “Who are you yelling at?”

  “Whoever is listening and watching us.”

  A woman’s voice boomed from all directions. “You’re not welcome here. Leave before we call the jaguars.”

  Finally, they were getting somewhere. Better to not mention the Root just yet. It would be easier if they only think they are on a rescue mission and not after the most powerful source of ESH in existence. Red replied, “As soon as you tell us where our friends are, we will leave.”

  The woman’s voice replied. “This is your last chance.”

  Reggie scanned the area for the source of the voice, but without finding anything yelled back, “We know you’re not calling the jaguars. The last thing you want is the empire snooping around a rebel stronghold.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  No response.

  Red moved towards the garage door. “They’re not going to do this willingly.”

  The air prickled with ESH. The tinkle clink of tiny metal parts clattered around them in all directions. Still deserted, the machine shop came alive as if driven by ghost workers. The pneumatic hammers to their right started to slam downward, rhythmically thumping with nothing in them. The arc furnace surged, spitting orange heat. The machining stations whirred to life grinding and slicing the empty air. Under the ruckus, tiny metal clinks swarmed around them. Something, or things, closed in with determined speed.

  Reggie moved in behind Red. “Just like Peleliu huh?”

  A calm came over Red. The Battle of Peleliu. Surrounded and cut off from the surface, Red and Reggie had taken on an entire platoon of soldiers and horrible magical creations through a network of tunnels dug deep into the Earth before neutralizing a Sov mage. Reggie had been a tough son of bitch back in the day. Red smiled. “Just like the good old days.”

  Reggie’s back pressed into Red’s. “The Xiuhcoatl sculptures aren’t in the corners anymore.” At least now they knew the foe they were facing.

  Loud clanks and clatters from the left. A flash of tangerine light came at Red. The glowing metallic serpent dove for his face. With a pivot and slash, Rubemort sung in his hand. Its ESH endowed edge cleaved the serpent’s tail free of its body. ESH flares scattered in all directions. The beast dove underground like the hard earth was nothing but a swimming pool. The separated tail portion flailed wildly before following its body underground.

  More tinkling of tiny metal claws encircled them. Another robotic brute lunged at Red. Reggie fire a bolt of ESH at a separate target behind them. Red slashed, cutting a portion of the monster’s head from nose to ear. He spun, deflecting its attack. Metal shards sprayed Red’s neck from Reggie’s target. They were coordinating their attacks. Great.

  Broken metal shrapnel littered the ground. And as before, it all disappeared into the floor of the shop.

  More rattling of metallic claws digging for purchase and another pair of attacks. More slashes with Rubemort and ESH strikes from Reggie showered the shop with shiny remains of broken serpents soon to be whole again.

  “We’re not making any progress,” Red said shifting to his right. “They keep reforming underground.”

  Reggie said rather calmly, “Animated objects like this typically have a binder or source that pulls and keeps them together. Once we destroy that, they fall apart.”

  Two more dove at them. Another cut and blast. Two more fallen Xiuhcoatls that vanished below ground.

  A loud vibrato of clinks and clanks started to build all around them. These attacks weren’t going to kill them. But they would tire them out eventually, making them easy targets. They were trying to wear them down. A mage strength shield wouldn’t even feel this kind of attack. They were using their own instincts against them. Red leaned back to Reggie. “Next attack, don’t shoot it.”

  “Uh, why?” Reggie said with the first hint of alarm in his voice.

  “You have your shield up, right? Trust me.”

  “Yeah, but why take the chance? I don’t like this.”

  And as if on cue, a serpent leapt at each of them. Red pivoted away from the one aimed at him. He stabbed the other in the head an inch from Reggie’s face.

  Reggie huffed. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”

  With the head of the Quetzalcoatl at the end of Rubemort like a metallic shish kebab, the serpent thrashed, swinging needle tipped feathers in all directions. Red held it away from Reggie. “Thanks. I’m guessing the eyes.”

  Reggie ripped both fire opal eyes loose. The Xiuhcoatl flailed and screamed furiously. With pulse of telekinetic pressure, Reggie pulverized the stones to powder and the Xiuhcoatl crumbled into a pile of loose parts.

  Red pulled his sword free of the Xiuhcoatl skull dropping it on top of its parts where it remained inanimate and above ground. “They’re just trying to tire us out. Besides, these things can’t break through our shields.”

  Two more dove for Red’s face. Instead of moving, he simply stood in place. The serpents angrily bit at his face but bounced off as pulses of burning scarlet ESH sparkled around him. They bounced back and lunged again. He spun Rubemort, carving both heads right through the eyes with one swipe.

  Red turned in a circle looking for the final serpent. “You’re going to have to do better than that. I mean that did take us at least…” Red checked his watch. “…two minutes to figure that out. So now what?”

  No response came, and more importantly, the fourth serpent refused to show itself. So whoever was driving those things wasn’t stupid at least.

  Red flourished Rubemort dramatically. “Look, I don’t want to have to start trashing this place. I have a fondness for rebels. I don’t like the empire either. But if you don’t come out here and start answering questions, I’m going to tear this place apart until I find the answers I came for.”

  The ground started to shake in response. Red glanced up and the large Quetzalcoatl no longer perched atop the building and sighed. “I think I know what comes next.”

  A pit opened beside them. From it the Quetzalcoatl’s head reared up, now glowing an acid green. It let loose a horrible shriek.

  Anger at the pettiness of this fight started to fill Red. They didn’t have time for this shit. The level of magic here wasn’t going to do anything to them except slow them down. He needed information to save his Lisa, Nina, and the kids. He squeezed Rubemort with both hands and all his fury. Its magic built as if anticipating the work ahead. “You really don’t want to waste this on us.”

  The Quetzalcoatl sprayed a geyser of red heat from its mouth.

  Reggie thew his hands up deflecting the fiery breath to the side. A machining station took the blast, melting a portion of it instantly.

  Enough. Red rushed forward. Spun. Rubemort’s cutting edge glowed angrily. The Quetzalcoatl’s head fell in two. He returned with slash after slash, mincing the head into a slaw of sheered rubbish only stopping when the pieces ceased to glow. Only a sad pile of scrap metal and shavings remained of what was once a gorgeous sculpture. Pity.

  Red pointed his sword at the furnace. “I want Francisca Zapata here in thirty seconds or I take that thing apart followed by every other piece of equipment in here.”

  Red wiped metal shavings off his jacket and after a few seconds of silence, moved towards the furnace.

  “Okay. Enough, pendejo,” a woman called out from the garage. Her tall lanky body formed quite an impressive shape in her dark blue jacket and form fitting leather pants. Her black hat as wide as her shoulders and crimson scarf framed dark brown eyes filled with determination. It made Red feel things he hadn’t felt towards another woman in a long time. “You’ve caused me enough damage. I get your point.”

  Red raised his hand to wrap her in a bundle of ESH and slam her into the wall for good measure, but he resisted. It was as if Nina was there in his ear, or maybe he didn’t want to damage the beautiful goods. No need to make more of an enemy, right? He put his hand down but kept Rubemort unsheathed. He wasn’t going to go easy on her just because she was stunning. “Where are the people in the house you dropped?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but Red cut her off. “Before you answer that, every time you lie. I break something.”

  She folded her arms in disgust. “If we did drop the house, there was no one in it.”

  Red shook his head and lifted Rubemort. “Wrong answer.”

  “No wait.” She held her hand up. “We got what we needed from the house but there was a barrier around it that killed on contact. We took what we thought was the correct item, but we weren’t sure. All they said was that it would be shielded with some impenetrable barrier. So, we grabbed this concrete ball and left. We came back afterwards to see if we could loot the place and found tracks leading to and from the house, but no one was there. I swear it.”

  Red’s insides tightened, but he tried to not show it when he asked, “So if someone was hiding inside, would they have died in the fall?”

  Francesca tilted her head. “We used a controlled drop on purpose. The job was to find the object and collect anyone inside so they wouldn’t be found by the empire. But with the barrier in place that wasn’t happening. If anyone was inside, they probably went to Arcilla. That’s the closest town.”

  Red pointed his sword at her for dramatic effect. “Who hired you?”

  “Funny, they didn’t leave a name, only a pile of money, so I didn’t ask. Well, half a pile at least. We weren’t able to deliver the goods, so we never received the second half of the payment.”

  Red put his sword down by his side. “What happened?”

  “The shop got broken into yesterday. We were supposed to make the drop today. Funny enough, all they stole was the ball, and the gusano. That must be a hot ticket if someone came all the way out here for it.”

  Reggie gasped. “You didn’t have it guarded?”

  “Stupid topsiders. Always looking down at us.” She spat on the ground. “Of course we did. But we’re not a bunch of mages sitting here ready for a fight. My men were overrun before they knew what happened. And they didn’t even remember what happened.”

  A familiar hollowness gnawed at Red. That was the standard Sov attack, but it was also required at least a mage to pull off. With the Root on the line, it made sense. Come in fast, hit everyone with a stunning spell and turn them into momentary drones to complete the heist. Being dumbfounded like that didn’t last long because the human mind is adept at resisting magic not generated by itself. But a mage against a conjurer or charmer would be enough. There was no doubt, the Sovs had the Root. Hopefully whatever impenetrable barrier was on the Root would hold. It also meant that there was another player involved here besides the Sovs. Why would Karen authorize something like this on the side? Why would she track Red? And all for what purpose?

  Reggie said, “Where was the handoff supposed to be?”

  Francesca looked to the dome ceiling. “Surface, wet float. We have an old, capped oil rig bore hole we use for smuggling goods down here, but it can be used the other way too.”

  Red asked, “What’s the gusano?”

  Francesca waved her hand. “Gusano! The worm! The machine we used to drop the house. It digs, builds the tunnel walls, and closes the tunnel if you want. I don’t know why anyone would steal it though. It’s not like you can build unauthorized tunnels without getting caught. Well.” Francesca smiled. “Unless you know who to pay off. But still, I don’t know why anyone would want a tunnel builder. You think they want to steal another house?”

  Francisca walked forward to look at the remains of her metallic beasts with disgust. A determined sadness washed over her face. “Damn.” She kicked a piece of scrap metal. “You two are mages, aren’t you?”

  A little guilt niggled inside Red. These people fought the stranglehold the empire had on its people. They didn’t have much because of how effective the jaguars really were. And now they had even less. It wasn’t Red’s problem, but he hated making their problem worse.

  Damn. He was getting soft. He turned to Reggie. “Give them a little something for their trouble.”

  Reggie’s face screwed up with confusion. “I already gave them a follis and a year’s worth of Netflix.”

  “Come on.” Red turned to head out. “We’re on the same team here, right?”

  Reggie tossed a few more follis to Francisca. “Says the man who's giving away someone else’s money.” Reggie followed, still bitching. “You know they tried to kill us, right?”

  “Tried and failed, now come on, we have to get to Arcilla.” Red stopped mid stride. “Do you hear that?”

  Reggie snapped, “I swear to god if you make some crack about the sound of me being cheap, I will end you right here and now.”

  Red held a finger up. “Listen. There’s no noise.”

  Francesca hissed. “Damn jaguars. Vámanos!” She pointed to the garage. “The city goes quiet when the jaguars come in force. Back here. I have a hidden escape tunnel. I don’t want them seeing you two here. They’ll shut us down for good if they do.”

  Francesca started barking orders. Workers reappeared from the garage to clean the mess and get the shop running again. Red and Reggie followed her to the back of the garage where an unfinished metal sculpture of a woman with large butterfly wings sat in disrepair. An arm and second wing were missing. Dissembled pieces lay on the ground next to it. A fine sheen of dust collected on everything like it had all been forgotten a long time ago.

  Reggie went full tourist again. “Is this supposed to be Itzpapalotl?”

  Francesca didn’t hide her surprise at Reggie’s revelation. “Yeah. Pretty good for a topsider.” She reached behind the back of the sculpture and said with utter disdain, “You two pendejos better not say anything to anyone about this.” With a click the strewn pieces locked into place, completing the sculpture of a proud woman with wide wings looking to the sky. Her face glowed white with red lines streaking downwards. Long white claws grew from her fingers. Smoke poured from her mouth and the entire statue slid to the side revealing a hole with a ladder below.

  Without a word all three descended into the hole and followed a series of unfinished but functional tunnels deep underground to the shop. By Red’s guess they had passed the borders of the city. They passed through storerooms of dried goods, medical supplies, weapons, and several dormitories. People moved about busily doing who knows what. Half wore the drab uniforms of slaves of the empire. The maze of tunnels they followed her through finally ended in a long tunnel that continued straight for quite a while. At the end a loose pile of rocks blocked the way. She turned and said, “You didn’t see anything. The rooms, the supplies, the people, nothing. If these people are found, they will instantly be put to death. Understand me? So, keep your mouths shut.”

  Reggie said, “I understand why the slaves would hide here, but why everyone else?”

  “Because if you say the wrong thing or make an enemy of the wrong official, boom, slavery. You end up homeless, a slave. You go bankrupt or owe someone money, slavery. It’s how this wonderful empire works.” She spat on the ground. “One day, we’ll break this place.” She pointed an accusatory finger at them. “But not if you don’t keep your fat topsider mouths shut.”

  Red’s face flushed warm. Damn, she was something to be around. Strong women always did it for him, but she was too much. And he was married. “What’s the fastest way to Arcilla?”

  She tilted forward, the wide brim of her hat almost touching Red’s face and examined him up and down like she was going to punch him in the face or throw him on the ground and make passionate love to him. He was willing to give either a try. “You don’t want to go to Arcilla. You want to go to where your friends are hiding out.” She leaned back and delivered a devilish smile. “I had my men follow the tracks in case I needed some insurance.” She turned to Reggie. “But, it’s gonna cost you.”

  Reggie scowled. “I already gave you something extra. Let’s consider that payment. Besides, how do I know you’re telling the truth and not just trying to bilk us for more money?”

  Red sighed. “Come on Reggie, just give her another follis.”

  Reggie snapped his head sideways. “Those big brown eyes may have ensnared you, but I need proof before I shell out any more dinero.”

  Francesca patted Reggie playfully on the cheek. “I like him. Smart guy.” She pulled a piece of paper with writing on it from her jacket pocket. “There were a set of dog prints, very large dog. Two other people on foot, and some kind of wheeled vehicle. They reached a certain point and separated.” She waved the paper. “Wouldn’t a map like this be convenient?”

  Reggie blew air out in frustration. “Fine. But we also need transportation.”

  Francesca pinched her chin. “That’ll be a follis for the map, a follis for transportation, and…” She winked at Red. “A follis for me to drive you there.”