Page ten of Aces and Eights
Harvey Smith
I knelt over him, bending down until my muzzle was inches from his face. The damp ground soaked through the knees of my pants, wetting my fur and irritating me further. The man's eyes widened. I called upon some of the psychic energy which had been vested in me by the Fountain of Flame, using my ring to give it form. My captive and I were very close together now, in ways very different than physical. I began to focus my thoughts, pushing them forward until they spread forward between us like roots through soft earth. My consciousness reached his�invaded it.
I began to shuffle through the swirling scatter of his memories. That which was plainly irrelevant to my search, I blew aside like so many dead leaves. But then, just as I could sense that I was nearing my goal, a strange thing occurred. A sudden surge rushed forward from the thief, passing from the detailed mark above his brow and into me. The surge, I knew, had not been consciously manipulated by the man. Instead, it seemed to have come about automatically, as if I had tripped some psionic alarm�a defense placed there by another. Intentional or not, the suddenly reversed power flow felt like a wave of molten iron as it entered my head. Groaning aloud, I struggled to defend against it and was only partially successful. By erecting a shield of pure will, I managed to turn the energy aside, shunting most it away before it could do me any serious harm. The effort of my defense caused me to reel, though. I felt myself falling, but I was unconscious even before I hit the dark, damp earth.
* * * * *
I am not sure how much time passed while I was out, but I felt intuitively that my state of unawareness had not been a long one. Sitting up, I grimaced at the distress I felt; my head throbbed painfully with each beat of my heart. I looked around, wondering where the thief had gone. Also, I wondered why he had not killed me when he had had the opportunity.
Standing, I realized that while I was unconscious my body had shifted halfway back to human. One leg felt like it had lagged behind the other, leaving it a bit longer. I finished the form alteration�willing the changes as quickly as I could, until I had recovered my symmetry. Once again, I viewed the world with the eyes of man. I looked around, easily spotting the thief's trail; his tracks told me that he had left the small campsite running.
A sudden thought made me check for the Trump, but it was still tucked away in my pack in the place where I had left it. A further inventory of my possessions, however, revealed that the original object of my hunt�the phoenix�was missing.
"Damn," I whispered to no one but myself.
I discovered nothing else missing. My ring was still on my hand and my own Trumps were still in place. The small bag of enchanted acorns I keep at my belt was there. This rounded out my inventory of important possessions. Unlike the mundane items I carry, any of these things, if stolen, would cause me a great deal of irritation.
Again cursing the loss of the pendant, I quickly donned my boots and shirt, then set out after the man I had so recently had within my custody. I considered as I ran. The power that had rendered me unconscious had felt as if it could have done a lot more damage, had I not successfully defended against it. The tattoo, the Trump�I wondered suddenly, knocking a low-hanging limb away from my face, whether the thief's mysterious master could have actually drawn the tattoo onto his servant, empowering it with an energy similar to that possessed by a Trump. I was no expert on the subject, certainly, but it did seem feasible. An interesting idea.
Faintly, I felt some sort of sorcerous disturbance ahead of me in the forest. It flowered briefly, building to a high level of potency then withering away and dying as quickly as it had formed. This caused me to wonder about my tactics. If my quarry were preparing an attack, rushing ahead could prove extremely harmful to my health. Conversely, if the man were enacting some escape, I could miss him by cutting back my speed.
Though he had been endowed with a functional magic ability, he had not struck me as a practicing spell caster. He seemed instead to be a person�not unlike me�who had been mystically augmented. So, onward I ran.
I broke through the next clearing in time to see the tattooed man begin to fade away within a localized fog of iridescence. I sprinted forward with a snarl, but could not reach him before he was Trumped away. Standing alone in the now silent glade, surrounded by the greens and the browns of the forest, I muttered darkly.
It seemed that the man had�once he was far enough away from where he had left me unawares�used a previously undisplayed ability to send out a sort of SOS beacon. That would explain the disturbance I had felt. Someone on the distant end had apparently heard and responded to his ephemeral signal, then Trumped him home.
The fact that the man had not used his power while he was at my mercy told me that it must require several moments of intense concentration to use.
I blew out a long breath. I was not about to call back to Luke for help at that point�I would have looked less than competent. Besides, I was angry and the matter now felt like a personal thing, whether it really was or not. Reaching for the odd card at my belt, I hoped that my horse would be able to find its way back to the old guy who had sold it to me.