Chapter 5-133: Bound and Burning

As I wanted to be certain my lived-line was extending, Sleipner didn’t go riding along the Veil, as the shadowy movement might throw off the connection. That said, going way, way over the speed limit was simply force of habit for the dead unicorn stallion, as he wasn’t going to let any lesser vehicle show him up.

So, we were clocking 100 mph and more as a baseline, weaving through traffic which could barely tell we were there, taking risks no really sane driver would, which Sleipner thought was as relatively safe as strolling down a mountain trail. Naturally, nobody saw us coming and going, either.

We took 94 across, an extremely busy road traveling between two of the cities that had benefited the most from the coming of magic, albeit for different reasons. From there it was down 57 south, turning off at Monee in the early hours of the morning to meet up with The Mick outside a burrito place there being run by a family of Gluttons related to, but appreciably fatter than, the family I’d seen in Detroit.

They and the locals were still treating The Mick with great respect, as naturally his reputation was quite established in the neighboring cities.

I noted Bone Marrow was riding a few inches lower, lifted my eyebrow at his trunk, and he just nodded. “I were going to drive a truck up to the gates o’ the Hall and ask them if I could dump the load out there, but thought better of it,” he admitted. “How much longer until you can take action on them?”

“Four days.”

He clenched his fists in eagerness. “I admit to waiting to see what you can do with them, Lady Traveler!”

“A lot of people are, Lord Mick, a lot of people are.” I glanced around. “Master Fred? Where is our fourth? Fashionably late?”

He pointed north silently, and I turned that way.

There were flames popping in the air in the distance. I had pretty good eyes, nice enhanced elven genetics... it looked like someone was popping off a series of small fireballs, and they were traveling in this direction.

With a dot left behind and traveling out of each one of them before being swallowed by one and coughed up by the next.

“She’s Firejumping her way here?” I had to ask, amused. It was a variant Dim-door technique that was far more showy and obvious, but also had up to twice the range if you didn’t have to create your own flames between points. The V version of it was only between flames, but had twice the range of a Teleport spell, which was saying something, if you could reach it.

“Boxer invited a surprise guest? That wouldnae be, would it-?” His smile widened in anticipation as a chain of fireballs zipped in our direction at pretty good speed, veering in as they got close, and finally culminating in an explosion in the parking lot that actually had cars nearby slowing down in shock as a woman strolled out of the flames, totally unconcerned.

She did all her photos justice, being six feet tall and with curves in all the right places, long and very fit and able to challenge every man that set eyes on her. Her hair was rippling with the flames of her Pact, her eyes burned yellow, and she oozed confidence and charisma as she strolled in closer.

“Oh, the woman who stole my heart and burned it away,” The Mick spoke up, clearly having met her before. “If I’d have known ye were coming along, lass, I’d’ve brought along some nice incense and everything.”

She was dressed in pretty tight-fitting custom black leathers... and that leather wasn’t from cattle, as it didn’t have a single burn mark on it. The flat cloth, a Warlock Chasuble, that she had thrown about her shoulders and was waving about with a life of its own, burning threads shooting through it, made her look like some burning Amazon supermodel biker nun.

She gave The Mick a very wide smile that had all kinds of hints in it. “If it isn’t the Blooded fool chasing after me for a nip on the neck. You know I tend to burn those pursuing me, Enforcer Mick,” she purred back at him.

He straightened up proudly. “I’ll have you know I’ve been promoted to Lord Mick, my bonnie lass,” he sniffed in flagrant mockery of an Englishman. “I’m a member of much lower society now!”

She laughed pleasantly, a throaty thing even I had to admit was easy to listen to. Her eyes skipped past me to Master Fred, who was regarding her with his same steady face, no overt welcome or disdain. “And here’s the Silent Warlock who asked me here, as unmoved as ever.” She strode in, and I admit I was intrigued when, without the slightest shame, she planted a kiss on his cheek.

If I did that, his Pact would burn him for his temerity. It did no such thing for her...

His steady look at her eyes didn’t waver. HELLO, SHVAUGHN, his letters flamed for her. I’M SURE YOU RECOGNIZE TRAVELER.

Her eyes finally came to me, sweeping me up and down in practiced assessment, with just a little pause as she took it all in, and wondered at the mixed messages she was getting. Her eyes flicked to The Mick and Master Fred, back to me, and she realized who was actually in charge here.

“You’re the one we’re all going to be helping out?” she asked, pausing before putting on a friendly smile and extending her hand out. “A pleasure to be meeting the woman who brought humanity its racial language.”

I lifted my hands away. “I don’t have a Hellpact. I will actually burn your hand,” I replied to her, as golden flames swirled around my fingertips.

She paused in shock, just a flicker, but I saw it. Her burning eyes turned to Master Fred, who just shook his head. I TOLD THEM NOTHING, he stated calmly.

The Mick was also instantly aware that something was going on that he might not want to be involved in. “Should I be about finding the little boy’s room?” he asked smoothly.

“Stay. You need to be read in, and if Master Fred considers her a good contact to have, despite what she is, so should you.” I crossed my arms on my chest, studying her. “I have to admit, that is extremely impressive how you are doing that.” I glanced at her, at Master Fred, back again, and snapped my fingers to put up a Sound Bubble, cutting off noises from outside, and any from inside going out, too, with a little extra visual wobble to make lip reading impossible. “You’ve obviously got Pact Resonance, or Master Fred wouldn’t have been aware of you, either. I assume it’s because he’s got a Heaven Pact, and you don’t?”

She stared at me for a long moment, considering what to say next. She assessed The Mick with a dangerous flicker that had him lifting an eyebrow of his own.

“I have the feeling this is going to be a most interesting reveal,” he smiled cheerfully.

“Cannibal Jane?” I asked calmly.

The Mick’s expression froze. Shvaughn also lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t refute it.

“Ye’re shitting me.” The Mick’s expression was now very, very calm, eerily so, and his scabbarded Sword, which had been resting over there on the seat of his car, was now in his hand.

“Lord Mick, may I introduce to you the Shrouded Earth’s first Grandmaster Warlock, a five-Pact Warlock with some obviously extraordinary ability to manipulate the Signs and active displays of her Pacts. Master Fred has the potential to become a Grandmaster, too, but he’s coming at it from a different direction. The two of them share a Hellpact, and, I imagine, the same Patron for it.”

“No shit.” His dark eyes moved between the two of them, while Shvaughn stayed as silent as Master Fred was. “Mind telling me how you deduced all that?”

“She has five active Pacts because she Firejumped exactly three hundred and thirty yards for her last three Firejumps each, which is the maximum range for a full-tiered Five Pact Warlock wearing a Greater Chasuble like she is. She doesn’t look like an Amazon, she IS an Amazon... Amazons come from Pacts with the forces of the Sister Goddesses, and are actually a branch of Warlocks, although normally they can’t be Casters at all. She’s probably strong enough to throw us over the building, and just doesn’t show it.

“She has to have a Hellpact, or Master Fred wouldn’t have known she was multi-Pact. As to what her other two active Pacts are, it likely doesn’t matter... as long as she doesn’t draw on their power overtly, she doesn’t have to show Sign, and she can probably rotate them out at Renewal, anyways. I’m guessing a rolling Citypact and a Wind or Stone Pact, but it could easily be another Dark Pact of a useful type with good passives, like the Tyrant Soul or Burning Eyes.”

I could see more than a little consternation and wariness in the gorgeous redheaded Amazon’s burning eyes now. She looked at Master Fred and demanded, “You told her nothing?” she repeated.

NOTHING, he answered back. SHE’S DANGEROUS, he added on.

“Aye,” The Mick agreed promptly on seeing that. “And shortly going to be a whole lot worse. I almost feel bad what fer the idiots who stole her babe. They hae no idea what be coming fer them.”

She looked like she was contemplating a move, just to establish something. I flicked up my Shards, her eyes dropped, and her flaming pupils noticeably narrowed as she counted the ten Shards there. She had probably never seen a Caster bring up ten Shards at once... and with so many energies about them.

Master Fred did not betray that I could actually bring up twelve if I had to.

“So, you and Master Fred obviously came to an agreement. You’re probably as smooth-tongued as a serpent, so you convinced him of something. I trust his judgement; you can probably convince me. He thinks you can help, and I’m pretty damn sure a Warlock Grandmaster can do more than just help. So, explain to me why I shouldn’t be trying to feed you to your Pact?” I asked archly.

She stepped back a pace, smiled warmly, and said, “Jane has never been my name, but I have been called that. It came about because I eat Warlocks... and I trap their Pacts.”

Her smile grew wider at my reaction. “Are you serious?” I had to ask, while The Mick merely wondered what she meant.

“I have one hundred and twenty-two Pacts trapped inside me right now. The souls of their owners are bound by my Hellpacts to accompany me to Hell, but their own Pacts won’t relinquish their hold on them. When I die, their Pacts will be able to free them from mine, but as long as I’m alive, those Pacts are out of circulation.”

I looked at The Mick, he looked at me, and we whistled together. She smiled even more widely, sensing that any danger from us had been removed. She had gone from being Cannibal Jane, the most famous Hungry Kiss Warlock and Consumer of Souls in the world, a legend the entire Warlock community wanted to get rid of in fear and hate, practically the saleswoman for everything bad and wicked about Warlock Pacts, to someone we wanted to feed a lot of Darkbound to.

She was taking Pacts out of rotation, reducing the maximum number that could be Sworn at any one time. That was... extremely impressive!

“And you can use their Pacts while they are bound to your Hellpact’s flames...”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Although I have been careful, I have been at this for quite some time. Some of the Patrons have finally caught on that something is wrong, and started leaking tales about me. They have been trying to catch me or reveal me, and they have managed to chase me away from a couple of my identities in the past, particularly when I was a bit more successful.”

“But they’re dealing with an Amazon Warlock. Do they have any idea how dangerous you are?”

“I’ve been keeping them in the dark for a very long time about that.” She was beaming. “It is likely that the only people on this whole world who know that an Amazon Pact can be subverted are standing right here.”

“Lord Mick, an Oath on your Sword that you will not reveal this to any being without my permission. You can be assured that Sama and Briggs will be among those people, however.”

He nodded, and promptly made the Oath on Smior, partially drawing it to cut his palm on the blade. There were sparkles as the magic of the Blade activated to the Oath, affirming his sincerity.