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  They didn’t find Faleena at the bar, but instead one of her equally tough barmaids.

  “You got money? Name your poison and slap down your coin!” The woman shouted her gruff courtesy over the drone of voices and drunken laughter.

  “Two Kind Ales,” Gormer called. He knew the cost already but made sure she saw another coin as her tip.

  “Big spender,” the woman replied. “You like the good stuff. Most people are happy with the house ale.”

  “Special night,” Gormer replied, pulling the earthenware mugs toward him and Mortsen.

  “Every night in here is special, darlin’.” The bartender cackled.

  “What’s your name, sugar beet?” Gormer asked, flirting hard.

  “I’ll answer to sugar beet for you, but my name is Kate.” She winked and leaned forward on the bar to squeeze her ample breasts together.

  “Well, Kate,” Gormer said, slapping more coins down on the bar. “My name is Gormer. Let’s keep the ale flowing, and we can talk about other names you might answer to later.”

  The extravagant display earned Gormer the kind of attention he wanted. He found an empty table near the bar and sat down in a pool of shadow.

  “Pay attention,” Gormer muttered as Mortsen sat opposite. “Watch who goes to the bar and doesn’t come back with a drink.”

  “More than one set of eyes on us now,” Mortsen remarked nervously.

  “I want people to chatter,” Gormer replied as his eyes turned white in the shadows. “More importantly, I want them to think.”

  More than a hundred voices clamored in his head making him dizzy. The rush of accompanying images was so disorienting, he nearly toppled out of his chair.

  To find who he was looking for, he needed to experience all the thoughts he could. He imagined himself standing before a barrel of grain. He sank both hands into the threshed wheat, then lifted them again with open fingers. He looked for just one or two grains. It wasn’t something he could rush.

  His own thoughts were obscured by the crowd until he had trouble telling one from another. You need to stop, he told himself. Not yet, he answered.

  He caught a stray thought.

  Boone needs to know about this.

  Gormer snapped out of it with a gasp.

  “Finally,” Mortsen spat. “You get what you wanted?”

  “Yeah,” Gormer replied.

  “You were noticed,” Mortsen said. He nodded toward a group of people who didn’t bother to hide their stares.

  “It was worth it,” Gormer replied. He turned in the direction of where he’d caught the passing thought. “There.” He nodded toward a leather-clad ruffian who had all the earmarks of a mercenary.

  The bald man was heading toward the back rooms. He nodded at several other people along the way. Five others joined him.

  “Let’s go,” Gormer said. “We need to follow him.”

  “Them,” Mortsen corrected. “Six of them now.”

  “Lucky I have you...oh.” Gormer stopped short when three large bar patrons in tight-fitting black leather armor intercepted them.

  “You mercs sure do love your black leather,” Mortsen said. He cracked his knuckles and bared his gold teeth.

  The mercs just smiled, and one of them pointed over Gormer’s shoulder.

  “You think we’re falling for that? You must be—”

  Twee-twee-tweeee…

  A small ensemble of high-pitched sounds came from behind them. Gormer raised his hands and turned slowly. “I see you bought yourselves some magitech weapons,” he remarked.

  “That I did,” Faleena said. Her tobacco pipe bobbed up and down in her mouth as she spoke.

  The bartender Kate stood beside her along with another woman who wore a serving apron.

  “Is all your bar staff this well-armed?” Gormer asked with arched eyebrows.

  “Lately, yes,” Faleena replied while puffing on her pipe.

  Her gray hair was highlighted jaundice-yellow from constant smoking. Her sallow, bloodshot eyes looked like two pissholes in a snowbank.

  I know you’re tempted, Mortsen suddenly voiced in his mind. But don’t use the Reacher magic.

  How are you doing this? Gormer thought in reply. Mortsen’s eyes had not turned white. Gormer’s had.

  I’m not. Mortsen replied. You are.

  “He’s tryin’ ta work his mind-magic!” Kate exclaimed.

  “That’s just fine,” Faleena replied. She raised her rifle and pointed it at Gormer’s chest.

  “You don’t have to kill us!” Gormer exclaimed.

  “I’m not gonna,” Faleena said. She flicked a lever on the side of the magitech rifle, then pulled the trigger and a stream of jagged sparks sprayed out.

  Every muscle in Gormer’s body spasmed at once. He collapsed to the floor and proceeded to flop like a fish. To do the same to Mortsen, Kate had to get in on the act. They both shot him multiple times, and he nearly managed to grab Faleena before he hit the grimy floor in a seizure.

  Gormer managed to get a look at Mortsen, though he couldn’t move his neck.

  He found a set of gold teeth exposed by stretched and twitching lips. Mortsen stared at him with angry, accusing eyes.

  I want them to know I’m with Astrid, Mortsen mocked. That’s what you said. Great fucking plan, you nimrod.

  Hey, are we dead? Gormer thought as rough hands grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him away.

  Not yet, Mortsen thought back. But we won’t have long. They want us for something, then they’ll kill us when they’re done.

  It took three strong men to drag Mortsen after Gormer

  Also, your baseline for success leaves something to be desired, Mortsen growled in Gormer’s mind.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Best Management Practices, Volume 2

  Astrid had found a way to put the pride of the first lieutenants to good use. She hadn’t intended to do it, but the arrangement materialized with very little effort on her part.

  Under the late Protector Lungu, the lieutenants were encouraged to compete with one another for the privilege of carrying out tasks. Those who did the best job were rewarded. Those who didn’t were punished, usually by demotion or monetary fines. If the mistake was great enough, physical punishment up to and including execution was possible.

  This ultimate punishment was rare, though.

  Those who performed best received work contracts. They were compensated by the treasury for doing things like collecting taxes and providing troops. If they excelled beyond expectations, they were paid in land or given the responsibility of running their own villages from which they collected taxes.

  Astrid struggled with the concept of officers performing work for their own material benefit. Where she came from, that kind of work was called duty and performing it was its own reward.

  But with Lungu dead and a new, unquantifiable threat looming, the reward system was turned on its head. Most of the lieutenants had been in the fortress when the portal opened, and remnant poured out.

  For the first time in more than half a century, the remnant threatened the Protectorates. Most of the first lieutenants recognized survival was now the reward. Astrid had proved herself to be the best leader to provide that.

  So now, she had a group of highly-motivated officers who fell all over themselves to prove they were the best to keep the protectorate safe.

  With the help of Treasurer Brol, Astrid paid them well, but she was also busy weaning them from the monetary reward system. Pride was the key.

  Since she left Vinnie that morning, Astrid had spent the entire day on her feet walking, climbing and sometimes running all over the fortress to meet her various management demands. It was well after dusk when she finally felt satisfied everyone had a clear direction, and she had a clear understanding of the state of things.

  She noticed something strange as she approached the assembly yard where Charlie was being guarded.

  She saw a young Mover munching on a piece of fruit. Sh
e was one of about a dozen people she’d seen doing so.

  “Excuse me,” Astrid said, reaching out a hand to stop the young woman. “What kind of fruit is that?”

  The woman stopped dead in her tracks and stood at attention with her arms to her sides. “It is called a plum, Protector Astrid, ma’am.”

  Astrid took a deep breath. “Please relax, Mover…” The soldier didn’t take the hint. “What is your name?”

  “Tina, Protector Astrid, ma’am,” Tina said. “I’m off duty, so I thought eating was—”

  “You are not in trouble, Tina. Please relax.” When the woman tensed even more, Astrid stepped close and smiled. “That is an order. You’re not in trouble. I’m sure you’re doing a great job. I was just curious. But now, you are harming that plum.”

  Tina finally relaxed. “Thank you, Protector,” Tina said.

  “Where did you get it? It’s early spring. Fruit shouldn’t be coming in for months yet.”

  Tina’s smile grew deeper and completely unguarded. “Have you not been to the assembly yard in the last couple days?”

  “Well, no,” Astrid replied. “I was just going to check on Charlie. I’ve been managing his guard detail and…” she paused. “Everything else.”

  Tina beamed at her. “Ma’am, if it’s not too improper, let me walk with you, and I’ll tell you all about it. I’ve had the privilege of being on guard duty this week. It’s...come see. I mean, please...if you will…”

  “Lead the way,” Astrid replied, intrigued.

  In the center of the outer walls of the fortress was the courtyard set behind another, lower wall. The twenty-foot-tall doors leading to the assembly space were cracked open just far enough for two people to slip through side by side.

  Where once there was barren open space more than a hundred feet square, there now existed a lush, green forest. Vines stretched out from the forest floor and climbed up the stone walls. It was the thicker vines preventing the courtyard doors from opening all the way.

  Charlie’s footsteps vibrated through the soles of her feet. The giant pushed through a thick screen of broad leaves with his gap-toothed smile. He patted the heads of the soldiers nearby as if they were pets.

  His arms were loaded with fruits of every description; melons, plums, pears, and other brightly-colored harvest fruits Astrid couldn’t identify. He squatted and carefully deposited the food in a nearby pile.

  “What on Irth is going on here?” Astrid exclaimed. The forest was tallest in the area where the portal had appeared. “And more importantly, why am I just becoming aware of this?”

  “I, ah…” Tina stammered. “I just assumed… It’s Charlie. I guess everyone just figured that since he did it, you would know.”

  “Everyone trusts Charlie,” Astrid said as the giant offered her a green apple as if his hand was a four-fingered platter. Astrid took it with wide eyes and scanned the greenery “Tina, I know you’re off duty, but would you run as fast as you can and bring Vinnie here?”

  Tina bolted from the courtyard at top speed.

  Astrid took a hearty bite of the apple and reveled in the tartness. It was immediately followed by a wave of sweetness. “How did you know I like green apples, Charlie?” Astrid asked.

  Charlie sang one of his wordless tunes and patted her on the head. More off-duty soldiers came and picked fruit out of the pile. Kitchen workers arrived to fill their baskets.

  “This is a good thing, right, Charlie?” Astrid asked.

  Charlie nodded his head in reply. “Hoooon.” he said in a deep voice she’d never heard before.

  He turned and waved her to follow as he strode back toward his handiwork.

  “I remember when you made the second harvest back in Argan Village,” Astrid said.

  After they rescued him from the mercenaries and brought him back to Argan, he went directly to the freshly-harvested field and lay down to sleep. They were worried about him until the next morning when they discovered he was fully healed and all the crops had grown and completely matured overnight.

  Astrid gave a start and jumped back when a crackling noise filled the air. A wave of fear hit her when she realized it was coming from Charlie.

  The Giant stumbled and braced himself against the thick trunk of a tree. The crackling sound continued, and Charlie grunted and groaned. Then, he grew. His limbs thickened, and his height increased by at least a foot.

  When he turned to look at her with a reassuring smile, his face was no longer chubby and round.

  “Cheekbones,” Astrid gasped. “Your face…” She covered her mouth with her hand. “You were just a baby. You’re growing up, aren’t you?”

  “Charlie?” Vinnie exclaimed. Astrid hadn’t even noticed the man-mountain arrive behind her. “Has he...grown?”

  Astrid nodded her head in stunned silence. She couldn’t help but laugh when Charlie put a hand on his belly that suddenly growled like a pack of trapped wildcats. Then, putting both hands on the nearest tree, he pushed it until the upper branches shook.

  A rain of walnuts thunked to the ground. Charlie scooped them by the handful and shoved them in his mouth, husks and all. The crunching shells sounded like a landslide.

  “When did this happen?” Vinnie asked.

  “I’m sorry, Protector Astrid and Professor Vinnie,” Tina said. “Nobody thought to tell you…”

  “Professor...” Vinnie mused, lifting his chin and puffing out his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Focus professor,” Astrid said with a loving smile. “Tina said it happened a couple of days ago. Everyone just assumed we knew because...Charlie.”

  “What a strange oversight,” Vinnie remarked.

  “It happens sometimes,” Astrid replied, nodding to Tina. “I’ve seen it before in crisis. Details like this just get missed. Why not? Charlie is safe, what’s the big deal with a magically-grown forest?”

  “It's the proximity to the portal that bothers me,” Vinnie said. He pinched his pointed beard and stared at Charlie.

  Astrid stayed quiet, not wanting to disturb his thought. She knew when he got like this, the wheels were turning fast in his head.

  Nearly a minute went by before Vinnie spoke again. “Tina, could I trouble you to do me a—”

  “Anything, Professor! I serve the Protectorate!”

  Vinnie startled a bit at the response. He turned to the young soldier and grasped her shoulders. “I respect your eagerness, Tina. Your being here is proof enough of your loyalty and dedication. You can serve best by believing that.”

  Tina relaxed under his hands and breathed easier.

  “Good,” Vinnie continued. “Please go back to my workshop and find Jakub, Elise, and Cole. Tell them to gather their instruments and anyone else they think can help with energy readings.”

  “Energy readings?” Tina asked, looking confused.

  “They’ll know what that means,” Vinnie replied. “And please tell Elise to bring her notebooks and lots of pencils.”

  Tine bolted again.

  “Tina!” Vinnie shouted. Tina skidded to a halt and turned with fright in her eyes. “Don’t kill yourself. Walk fast but do not run. Save that energy. We will be sure to call on you when it is needed.”

  Vinnie turned back to Astrid and Charlie, shaking his head.

  “Well, at least they are motivated,” Astrid said.

  “Motivation for the wrong reasons can be dangerous. We’ve not discussed it yet, but I see your efforts to change the way they serve.”

  “I’m working to change what they serve,” Astrid corrected.

  Astrid and Vinnie explored the new forest as they waited.

  A Fine Mess

  “No, no.” Gormer had managed to turn his head to Mortsen despite the leather strap holding his head against the wooden table. “This is good. We’re doing fine.”

  It took twice as much leather and rope to hold Mortsen to his table. They were attached to what Gormer assumed could only be bar tables. By the bloodstains and knife m
arks on the wood, he figured they were not the first.

  “If we get out of this—”

  “When we get out of this…”

  “I’m going to kill you.”

  “Won’t that kind of defeat the purpose?”

  Mortsen growled and roared as he strained against his bonds.

  “Hey, calm down,” Gormer advised. “I need to concentrate.”

  Mortsen let loose with a stream of curses Gormer had never heard before. He described goat anatomy about Gormer’s various traits in ways the reforming con man had never considered.

  “Thanks though,” Gormer replied. “I’m going to remember some of those insults for later.”

  “I hate you so very much,” Mortsen groused. “I can’t stand being restrained like this. I’m losing my mind.”

  “Shhh,” Gormer answered as he let out a breath and let the mental magic take him away. His eyes glowed bright white behind his relaxed eyelids.

  He reached out with his consciousness to seek other minds. Those he found first were far more guarded than he had hoped. He sensed four mercs outside the room keeping watch. They were no help. All he picked up from them was a constant drone of a single thought: be watchful.

  Damn, Gormer thought. Disciplined minds. They yielded no secrets.

  He bounced from those hard barriers and out into the drinking crowd. He was displeased to find himself in the mind of a man relieving himself in the filthy privy that emptied directly into the lake below the pier. The man wondered if he had enough coin to pay for a night of pleasure.

  The next mind that caught his attention was considering cheating at cards. Gormer latched on to those thoughts and hitched a ride as the man stepped into the open barroom. From there, his world opened. The contents of more than a hundred minds spilled their random thoughts out into the dim, ale-soaked air.

  The dizziness Gormer felt made his host stumble.

  “What the…” the man wondered.

  Gormer hopped from him to a woman who leaned against a high-top table. She was also a mercenary, and her thoughts were more revealing. Nearly everyone in the bar was contracted to the mysterious man she knew as Boone.