Rise (War Witch Book 1) (51 page)

Giving the Halfling an annoyed look, Leto snapped, "They aren't Blessed, that's why."

"Maybe not," Bit argued. "But this boy is near as big as the Troll, and half'a you again, General, sir. I'd say that Divine Mark or no, he'd be mighty damn useful."

"I don't care about that, little man," Esteban roared, silencing the mouthy Halfling quickly. "Ramora, please, there's no telling what may've happened to her. It could be that Spellweaver we met the other day for all I know."

"Spellweaver?" Rick asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Never mind that now," Leto cut him off. "Rills, get the City Guard organized and help us search. Hopefully, she's just gotten lost."

"Hold that," Rick said suddenly, bringing the Lieutenant wheeling back around after he'd already wheeled around once to obey the first order, making him look a little dizzy. "I've got a better idea."

"Like what?" Leto asked, exasperated.

"A training exercise, actually," the Blessed of Terakus grinned, looking at the assembled agents of Heaven. "We'll partner up and comb the city to find this young woman."

Leto scowled. "Rills has already met her. He knows what she looks like. It'll be faster if we get the guard involved."

The Blessed of Terakus held up a hand. “Odds are, she's simply gotten lost in the city, and is fine. The probability of some ill fate befalling her are extremely low.”

"Good point," Flick said. "Not to mention, any friend of Lady Ramora is a friend to me, and I'll take Lord Westerman's advice. This may be just the thing we need to climb this wall."

"Agreed," Tanna nodded. "We should utilize this opportunity to sharpen our teamwork skills."

"Right," Izra grinned. "Anything we can do to help Ramora, we're happy to do."

"Especially if it means getting out of this room for some air," Sabra chuckled.

Bit snorted. "Speak for yerselves. I'm goin' to eat some lunch."

"No, you aren't," Rick stated.

"Oy," Bit sighed.

"Lieutenant Rills, spread word to the Guard Stations to be on the lookout for the young lady," Rick ordered, sending the man running. "Esteban, you know her scent, so take Bit with you and search the north part of the city. If she's in danger, I'd wager the two of you can handle yourselves."

"Bloody Hells," the Halfling intoned as the Werecat nodded.

"Izra, you and Flick take the south," Rick ordered.

Izra's face fell. "Aw, man, I wanted to go with Ramora."

"That I will choose to ignore," the Dwarf huffed as he took hold of her and trundled away.

"Sabra, you and Leto head into the western part of town."

"We're gone," the Ogre chuckled, dragging the General in her wake like a rag doll.

"Tanna, you and Ramora head east," Rick said. "I'll stay here and use my Divine Gift to coordinate the teams. Right now, Izra and Flick are the only team who don't know what she looks like, so I'll get a description from Leto and pass it on to them."

"As you wish," the Troll intoned, nodding to Ramora as the two women headed out.

Somewhere, in Lansing, her best friend might be in trouble. There was no time for worrying over her own shortcomings. Chara needed her, and Ramora was more than up for the task.

With Rick's spirit projection flitting between the teams, they found coordination remarkably easy, the Blessed of Terakus keeping them updated on each team's progress, as well as making certain they didn't wander into already searched areas.

Bit, however, was having other worries as he trailed after the towering Werecat. Keeping up with him was hard enough, but more curious to the Halfling was why he wasn't part of the training exercise. A Werefolk would be an exceptional fighter, given their fast healing nature, size advantage, and natural weapons in the form of fangs and claws.

"Makin' a lad wonder why you not be trainin' with us, you do," he said at last as the two passed through a residential area, the big Cat not picking up on Chara's scent.

"I wasn't invited to," Esteban told him.

Bit's face soured. "Be makin' a lad wonder why that would be, then, too."

"I'm not concerned with this matter," Esteban growled. "I'm only worried for Chara's safety."

"Probably off gettin' snogged by some comely lads in an alley," the Halfling retorted.

Esteban seized him before he knew what had happened, hoisting him up to glare at him. "Suggest such a thing again, and I will leave what's left of you in the garbage."

"Easy now, laddie," Bit said with a nervous chuckle. "I didn't mean no harm in it. Just making idle speculation, what with me not knowin' the lass in person and all. I'm sure she's a right upstanding sort, all prim and proper like."

Setting him down, Esteban sighed heavily. "My apologies, Mr. Nittick. I'm worried for my beloved. Forgive my temper."

"Beloved, is it now?" he chuckled, tidying his shirt. "Quite the lady to be taken such a large boy as yerself as a lover. Make me have a good bit'a respect for her, it do."

Scowling, Esteban turned away and resumed stalking down the street, taking in each scent carefully. "I will thank you not to speak of her in such a manner."

Sagging, the Halfling trotted after him. "I be owin' you an apology or three, friend. I'm not the most what we call
socially graceful
people about. I tend to spend half me life with my foot in me mouth. I don't be meanin' no ill will, just running my tongue without a thought to yer feelins."

"Speak of it no more, and it'll be forgotten," Esteban grunted.

Seeing that was as good as he was going to get, Bit accepted it. "Tell me a bit about the fair damsel, will ye?"

"What do you care?”

He shrugged. "Friend to two'a the finest Blessed I ever been knowin', and a lover to a great big Werefolk like yerself, makes a man wanna ask after her disposition."

Glancing down at the Halfling, Esteban sighed heavily. "If you must know, she's a very intelligent, capable woman, with a fierce side that encourages me to stay in her good graces."

Giving the Were a sardonic look, Bit grinned. "Makes me think we be doin' things wrong way around then."

"How's that?"

"Might should be havin' the lass come lookin' for us, as we seem to be the ones with nary a clue what we be doin'."

Even though he didn't want to, Esteban laughed at that. Slightly relieved to be on better footing with the big Cat, Bit began plotting a new way to approach their problems. They just had to find the other half of the equation, first.

"The question then," Sabra muttered. "Is how do you go about finding one woman in a city this size."

Leto nodded. "That's a very fair question. I suppose we could start at the public places, just to rule them out."

Sabra gave a doubting look. "I'm sure that will take a few days at least."

"Rick does seem to have us looking for a needle in a haystack," the Blessed of Grannax agreed.

The Ogre gave him a curious look for a moment, then decided to go ahead and ask, "So, what is this girl to you anyway?"

"A friend," he replied.

"Nothing more?"

Leto gave a small laugh. "No, nothing more. She's spoken for, and even if she weren't, I doubt strongly I would be the kind of man she'd be interested in."

"The big Cat, you mean," she chuckled.

"Well, yes," he said. "Though, I think were Esteban not in the picture, she'd most likely have already taken up with Ramora."

"Well, that at least I can understand," Sabra said as she scanned the crowded street they walked down. "That woman is enough to make me consider exploring the option of a human lover."

"She is quite remarkable," Leto agreed.

Sabra gave a slight snort. "Yes, we're all aware of how you see her."

Feeling a flush wash up his face, Leto quickly replied, saying, "It isn't like that."

"Please," the Blessed of Verea chuckled. "Even Tanna could see the way you were moon-eying the woman, and she's blind."

"I wasn't moon-eying," he muttered.

"And I'm not green as the trees," the Ogre laughed.

Flustered, Leto watched the windows as they passed by a string of shops. "Not that it matters. I doubt she thinks of me the same way. Even if she did, I'm not sure how I'd go about approaching her."

"Just declare that you wish to fuck her," Sabra shrugged.

Leto slumped. "I've reached the point I'm listening to romantic advice from an Ogre."

Sabra gave him an annoyed glare. "Among my people, when someone finds someone else appealing, they simply say so. They're either accepted, or rejected, and that's that."

"It isn't so simple with her, though," he pointed out. "You know her history. I can't just walk up and go, hey baby, wanna see my other divine spear."

A look of dismay and humor washed over the Ogre's face. "Yeah, probably best not to go with that line."

"I don't want to offend her," he admitted, shaking his head. "I respect her as much as I like her. It isn't just that she's beautiful, it's that she has this amazing heart, sharp mind, and lovely soul."

"So, you want to do more than just have a good fuck, is what you're saying?" Sabra asked, looking confused. "I guess you could try for that. Don't see why, but whatever."

Leto sighed, giving her a pathetic glance. "I don't know. Maybe. I mean, yes, I'd like that, but who knows where else it could go, you know? It might be something special."

"Yeah, I can't see her having a bunch of kids, so you know," Sabra replied, skeptical.

"See, this is why I always let women take the lead," he grumbled. "They know what they want. It's just easier to let them be in charge of things."

Patting him on the shoulder, the Ogre gave him a sympathetic smile. "You're a real natural leader, all right."

"This isn't like war," he complained. "It's more complicated."

"Everything is like war," she quipped.

"Spoken like a true Ogre," he sighed.

"Why thank you." She grinned.

Flick stared at the street sign for a minute, twirling his mustache as Izra tapped her foot impatiently. Frowning, he concentrated, summoning all of the experience, intellect, and skill at his disposal, and patiently waited for a flare of insight.

"What are you doing?" Izra finally asked.

"I'm thinking like an eighteen-year-old human girl," he replied.

The Deep Elf stared at him in confusion, which faded to consternation, and finally to horror. "Please, don't ever do that, or say that, ever again."

With a deep sigh of annoyance, he looked up at her. "Now I've lost my focus and need to start again."

"No," she urged. "You really, really don't."

"Well, how else am I supposed to discern likely places to look for the child?" he grumbled.

"I dunno," Izra replied, tone heavy with reproach. "If only we had a woman we could ask for help."

Flick snorted. "What good would that do?"

"Seriously?" Izra balked.

"For certain," he told her. "I've got six sisters, eight aunts, twenty-two great aunts, thirty-four she cousins, and we all lived in the same manor house. Trust me, I have insight into the female mind."

"I'm a woman, you dolt," she screamed.

Flick looked her over. "That you are. Congratulations. Now hush, I need to concentrate."