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  There she was, off to the right, laughing and talking with friends. Braknow had worried about this point because the odds of her spotting him rose once everyone went their separate ways. Seeing their heads bobbing, their direction became clear. He took a different street, hoping to work his way over without being seen.

  After a few minutes, he scanned the street ahead and behind.

  No one.

  He turned his field jacket inside out. That should keep him from standing out. He wished there was time to change at home, but it was too far away. Tonight’s timing was critical.

  Coming up on Mabel Avenue, he turned right and walked three more blocks to the establishment. Now what? He could either stay outside to avoid being seen and wait until she came out, or sneak in and try to keep a closer eye on things.

  Years of experience told him to stay outside and play it cool, but the news of Tor’s mission to invade the tunnels replayed in his mind. Judging his lack of action from the previous night, he headed to the door.

  A ratty, old man with a threadbare coat and dirty gray hat sat on the street outside the pub, sipping a small bottle while holding a cup out.

  “Need a little more?” Braknow asked, dropping several coins in the man’s cup.

  “Uh, yeah. Yeah.” The old man’s feeble eyes strained to stare at his new gift.

  “How about a trade?” Braknow dumped some more coins in the cup while pulling off his field jacket. He pointed at the old man’s coat while holding up his own.

  The old man’s eyes lit up as he yanked it off and swapped.

  The colonel tapped his head and pointed at the old man’s hat.

  The old man surrendered the cap and sat, draining whatever was left in his bottle with a big grin. A drunk eyewitness was no eyewitness at all.

  With the coat pulled as tight as he could manage, and his hair tucked under the hat, Braknow entered.

  The place was crammed with soldiers spread across the bar. About halfway along, his eyes locked onto Everdell. She held an ale while laughing and talking with her friends.

  “I told you, get out of here! We don’t want bums with no money tarnishing our good place,” shouted the man from behind the bar.

  Braknow dropped his head as every eye turned toward him.

  “Oh, sorry. You look like someone else.”

  Braknow shuffled away from the door to the far end of the bar, hoping to blend in. He put a coin down and received an ale. Sipping it in silence, his eyes returned to Everdell. Had she spotted him?

  She continued to chatter with her friends.

  He started counting rounds. She was on the second since he entered. Guessing Everdell had drunk maybe one more before, he eyed hints that she might call it quits.

  Nope. They ordered another. She and three friends.

  He guessed they would stop at four. One for each to pay. Braknow stared at his own beverage. He had barely touched it.

  Fitting in unnoticed required that he drink, but tracking Everdell demanded he remain sober. He took several more sips, confident he could pace himself.

  After another half hour, Everdell and her companions shifted to saying goodbyes. It had indeed been four rounds, but the last took the longest. Nonetheless, she pulled herself away and stumbled toward the door.

  Braknow finished the last gulp of his ale.

  Waiting about thirty seconds, he headed out. No use having three soldiers on your rear, even if they were half drunk.

  Back on the street, Braknow spotted the same old man asleep on the street, hugging a different bottle than before. The colonel’s eyes moved to the corporal further along. He adopted a similar pace, and to slip better into his adopted character, staggered.

  What was he going to do? Whatever it was, it had to be soon. He tugged at his hat and hunkered down. She’d be home soon, and avoiding contact with neighbors was best.

  She turned into an alley. Odd. He’d never do that. Maybe she was taking a shortcut. Then the sound of crashing filled the street.

  He rushed around the corner only to find her sprawled against a garbage can. He leaned over and helped her up before pushing her against the wall.

  “Wowww. Didn’t seeee that. Whooo are you?” she said.

  Alcohol flooded his nasal passages. Without much thought, he dipped his head to make it harder to see his face.

  “You know something.” The colonel pinned her to the wall. “You know something, and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

  “What do you think you’re doing? Let go!”

  “Not until you tell me what I want to hear.”

  “Colonel Braknow? Is that you? What are you doing here?”

  Everdell had spotted him despite his best efforts. Was it possible to back out? He gritted his teeth, having crossed a line. “Why did you lie about Captain Tor returning?”

  “Whatever you are doing, it isn’t funny.” Everdell squirmed, but the colonel held tight. “What the . . . let me go!”

  “Not until you tell me why you covered up the captain’s return. I know his new mission. Do you?”

  Her eyes darted away to the right. “I don’t.”

  “That’s a lie. The watch officer told me he sent word. And for you to know his mission is a bit of a stretch for a colonel’s aide. What are you not telling me?”

  Everdell sucked her lips in as her eyes jumped back and forth.

  “Hey, Everdell! Whatcha doing? Is this your boyfriend?” The loud voice from behind made her eyes open wide.

  Braknow’s head turned, his eyes locking onto an approaching soldier from the pub. The colonel’s mouth formed a straight line. This was not what he needed right now. He slid closer and pulled the corporal into an embrace.

  “Soldier, I don’t think you’re invited to this party,” he said before kissing her.

  “What . . . Colonel Braknow? Everdell . . . you never told me you and he . . . ”

  Braknow stopped and looked back, the color drained from the soldier’s face, his mouth opened wide.

  “I’d suggest for your own sake, you keep it to yourself.” Braknow tilted a full scowl. It wasn't the first time he’d thrown an evil eye at a junior officer.

  “Ahh . . . ahh, yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Good night, sir.” The man turned and hightailed it.

  Once gone, Braknow turned to Everdell. “Who sent you? Corporals don’t have access to top secret mission orders.”

  “I . . . I . . . ”

  “You don’t realize the situation you’re in.” He took a step back and backhanded her face.

  She fell against the alley wall.

  “What were your real orders?”

  Her mouth opened, then closed. She opened it again.

  Braknow hit her again before dragging her down, pinning her to the ground.

  “Okay, okay.” Her hand outstretched, she licked the trail of blood on her mouth. “Captain Tor ordered me to keep an eye on you. Leaks from the chain of command through someone called Raven have generated blow back. We've been trying to find the source. I held back the information to see if you’d find out from someone else.”

  The shock of those words caused him to let go and step back.

  Everdell climbed to her feet, wiping dirt off her face. “Appears I was right, Raven.”

  His eyes locked onto hers as she uttered that name.

  She grinned. “It’s too late. Your best bet is to let me go and run. Now.” She glared at him with half a smile. Whatever shyness she had shown before was gone, her cover blown.

  His eyes flashed at the blade she’d drawn. The sweet, innocent corporal with coffee was no more. Instead, an intelligence agent faced him in her place.

  Everdell took a couple steps back, the dagger locked in her hand.

  Braknow’s mind raced through all the possible routes out of the city. He quirked an eyebrow, knowing there was no way he could make it to an outside checkpoint before she’d report in.

  “You leave me no choice.” He rushed her, sliding to the right. Gripping her ha
nd, he bent her wrist and twisted her around.

  “Ohh!” She clutched his shoulders, her eyes opened wide.

  He had diverted the weapon away from himself, accidentally shoving it into her gut. As her eyes locked onto him, their light faded.

  Nausea filled him, causing him to drop her as he doubled over. He’d killed men in combat, but this was different. Catching his breath, Braknow stood and dragged her to a nearby wall.

  Ruffling through her pockets, he found a small key, a little money, and a couple bits of paper.

  Being suspected was one thing, but being exposed was something the colonel couldn’t afford.

  Shoving these things in his pockets, he ditched her dagger in the next alley over. A mugging gone bad might cover things up. At least until he could figure out his next move.

  Chapter Nine

  A Hunt

  “Snitch! Snitch!” A voice filled her ears. Someone shook her as she woke to a splitting headache.

  The attack between Gavin and the soldiers replayed in her mind as her surroundings came into focus. Glantham had hurled strange blasts of light, and she had been grabbed. By what? She bolted upright, her eyes open. “Wh-what happened?”

  Glantham was inches away, glaring at her.

  She stared right back before noticing there were no tunnels. Her mind had a hard time processing the open field with bits of brush. “Everything is—purple.”

  “We must get out of here. Now.” He dragged Snitch to her feet.

  “Why?” She tried to shake off the strange numbness by stomping her feet on the ground. There was no sense of hot or cold, let alone any wind grazing her skin.

  Glantham waved for her to follow.

  Snitch grabbed the edges of her coat and pulled them together, tying her belt. Gritting her teeth, she moved her feet in obedience. Bits of feeling spread into her feet and legs.

  “Follow me, or we won't be able to help anyone.” He pointed off into the distance.

  What were they running from? Despite her desire to know the answer, it didn’t feel like the time to ask questions.

  Snitch's mind flashed back to yesterday's pursuit when she had rushed to Base. That had been so easy.

  Now, adrenaline flooded her body and her legs and arms shook off the numbness as her speed increased. Casing out situations when no one was around was safest.

  Not today.

  Glantham was straight ahead, and her gut said that someone else was right behind her.

  She spotted steps in the distance. Before getting there, Snitch reached the edge of an island. This wasn’t an empty field. It was an island, not surrounded by water but empty space.

  Peeking over the edge revealed nothing except other floating islands far away, each with a different orientation. Some hovered at right angles, some upside down. Her eyes rolled upward, her jaw hanging open. There were more islands up above.

  “This way. Hurry.” Glantham’s voice snapped her out of her dazed discovery. He stepped off their island onto the steps that were supported by nothing and spiraled downward.

  She wanted to close her eyes, but missing a step would not be good.

  Approaching another island, they crossed more steps than she could count. Hairs rose on the back of her neck, and her hands turned clammy. A fear unlike any other sought to take over. The purplish hue of these disjointed, multi-angled surroundings was foreign and freakish.

  “We’re almost there.”

  Focusing on his voice helped assuage her fear.

  They were two thirds of the way down when the cry of a wolf perked her ears, except the howl was much deeper than any wolf she’d heard. More howling from an entire pack crashed in on her.

  Her eyes rose toward the source, hearing it come from the place they’d just been. “What was that?”

  “Move faster, or you just might find out.”

  “My lord, a pair of mortals have entered our dimension.” The Warex high ruler’s servant bowed as he spoke this news.

  The leader rose to his feet. “Excellent! We shall form a hunting party and hunt them down across every land mass of the purple dimension.”

  He stepped down from his throne and strode to the far wall, where he picked up his favorite weapon. Its black-tinted metal blade had never failed him in past battles. Another chance to prowl with this old friend in his clutches filled him with glee.

  The gargantuan brute swung it back and forth, enjoying its weight as it swooped in the air. His face turned to a malevolent grin as he tilted his eighteen-foot tall frame and swung the weapon with full force at the rack, splitting it in half.

  He walked out of the central audience chamber, staring past the railing, over his kingdom. Soon he was joined by the highest-ranking members of the court, his most trusted advisors.

  One of them pointed at the weapon with his bony finger. “Another hunt, my lord?”

  Turning to look him in the eye, he grinned. “Indeed. My appetite has grown much for a feast of this kind.”

  The others nodded while looking at each other. Some licked their large teeth.

  “Gather your weapons and meet outside the wall,” he commanded. “My servant should have more information soon.”

  They dispersed.

  Waving a circle in the air, a portal of purple mist appeared before him. Using the thoughts and words of his servant, he soon found the aliens’ point of entry. A grin formed.

  Dispelling the scrying pool, the leader strode over to the wall. He swung his weapon back and forth, salivating at the notion of a hunt. It had been too long.

  Minutes later, the others arrived, armed. They talked amongst themselves with high spirits, pointing at the shapes in the purple scrying disc.

  “My lord.” The servant bowed low. “They are located on Mortus Landing.”

  “I see the same. That will be all.” The high ruler waved his hand.

  The underling backed away and left.

  Gesturing at the purple disc, the high ruler closed it before turning to his assembly. “From here on, we shall use no magic. The thrill of this potential hunt is too great to be squandered with magic. Now make haste!”

  The troop of beasts galloped off to seek their prey.

  Snitch stepped onto the new island before observing how it lay at a different angle from where she had just been. With each step, the previous bit of land faded into the haze.

  “Stop gawking and run!” Glantham shouted.

  Back in the tunnels, she hassled others to keep up. Now things were reversed.

  A few more steps, and they entered a dark forest with a deep hue of purple. This land mass wasn't desolate like the previous one.

  Her eyes darted around and widened.

  There was no sun. No familiar ball of yellow light sitting in the middle of the sky, giving her no idea how things were lit.

  She and Glantham moved deeper into this wooded place. The enclosed space with its increasing darkness warmed her heart, causing her to let out a breath. Her mind cataloged this location as a safe spot. Relatively. The trees were close together, kind of like the tunnels. Snitch relaxed her fists and let go of her jacket.

  “I think we can stop here. I could use some rest.” Glantham collapsed to the ground. His face was slack as his head dropped. “I'm sure you're exhausted.”

  “You can say that again.” Snitch dropped to the ground. “Where are we?”

  Glantham stared at the ground for a few moments. Then he fixed his eyes on her.

  “I believe we're in the purple dimension.” His voice had gone soft. He looked around, scanning all directions.

  “The what?”

  “What did you see when I defended Gavin?”

  “A strange purple mist came from nowhere, and somehow you—threw it at the soldiers.” The scene played through her mind again.

  “It's my fault you are here. I’m sorry.” His voice trembled as his eyes hung heavily. “I used too much magic knowing this might happen.”

  “Can we get back?” Snitch reached out
and put her hand on his shoulder. She wanted to soothe him. Not just because he was her friend, but because her life depended on him.

  “I don't know. My thoughts are jumbled.”

  Not much encouragement with those words.

  “I know it's hard to focus,” Glantham continued. “You must be shocked. Getting dragged into another dimension and having to flee is hard on the mind.”

  Was he struggling to cope with these surroundings same as she? “Hey, we'll make it, okay? Remember when you joined the Undergrounders? You showed us the way to the tunnels. Not everyone liked it, but I picked it up. We'll figure this out, too.”

  Glantham offered a thin smile, and she responded in kind. “Thanks. Maybe you should take a nap while you can. We’ll take turns.”

  Snitch smiled her thanks and stretched out. She tried to sleep. Her body was eager for rest, but she awoke to discover it had only been about twenty minutes. Maybe it was best to give Glantham a turn.

  He did the same and managed thirty minutes. After that, she tried again. This time, she got a little more. As her mind wandered over every footfall, every pace of running, she nodded off.

  The screech of wailing beasts stirred Snitch from sleep. How long had that been? Glancing over, she spotted Glantham still asleep. Reaching down, she stirred him.

  He glanced at her as he shook his feet.

  Bending her head and extending her ear, Snitch straining to hear every sound.

  Glantham stared at her before letting his eyes sweep back and forth.

  “They've picked up our scent,” he said, wide-eyed.

  This wasn't the time to pepper him with useless questions. Instead, she looked around, trying to figure out their next move.

  Glantham was up on his feet, crouched. Staring ahead, he pointed at a patch of underbrush and scurried toward it.

  Snitch followed. She used everything she had to not make noise. This was her thing, her knack.

  Glantham was somehow just as quiet. How he did that, she had no clue. The man had never snuck around on the streets as a kid, but this wasn't the time to wonder about trivial things.

  Snitch's fatigue dwindled, and energy flowed back into her arms and legs. Her mind focused better as well. Either those power naps worked, or the shock of the place was wearing off.