The mercs piled out of their vehicles again, keeping their expressions normal. The guy who was there to meet us didn’t have any perceptible magic around him, but he was exuding confidence and sure of himself as he waited politely there.

“Lady Fae?” he asked most unnecessarily of the only white-haired dark-skinned female in a set of Caucasian males. Yeah, another flat-accented Michigan native. “Dirk Charles. A pleasure to have you at Coralost!” he said in a friendly, confident manner.

I snapped my fingers, and Light Holos popped up over everyone with their names.

He almost jumped out of his skin in shock, his jaw dropping in utter amazement as he stared at the casual use of flashy magic. The boys fought valiantly to keep grins off their faces as he gaped at me, while I utterly ignored his expression.

“Mr. Charles, this is Captain Mick of the KIA team. They’re all Michigan natives, by the way. Let me introduce you,” I went on blithely, extending my hand. He took it automatically, still trying to find words and recover himself as I introduced the whole team one by one.

“Nice White Mana Zone,” I told him as I finished, elbowing him at the waist, and he stiffened, and then sighed as the entire KIA team burst out laughing, unable to stop themselves. He looked around, and then shook his head sheepishly.

“Please tell me the rest of you are normal,” he sighed, looking at them all.

“I feel like it’s hard to breathe, except I can breathe?” Red offered back, and Mr. Charles half-grinned and nodded as everyone else did, too, relaxing a bit.

“Do I even want to know how you can Cast in here?” he asked me, still a little nervous.

I tilted my head. “You’re an Artificer Five.” He stiffened and stared at me again. “Are there any wizards working here?”

He licked his lips as he looked at me. “Wizards,” he repeated hoarsely, his lips twisting around the word. “That’s... not the really old term for mages, right?” he asked weakly.

I shook my head slowly. “Wizards use Typeless Mana too, Mr. Charles.”

The hungry look in his eyes almost burst out, it was so hard and eager. “Oh, God. They said you were something special, but a Typeless Caster...” He licked his lips, staring at me, then stepped back, closed his eyes, and took a couple deep breaths. “If it’s not a secret, how close is that to Magery?” he asked quietly, but urgently.

“Wizardry is very different from Magery,” I leaned in towards him, “but wizards can become Typeless mages, too.”

He tripped, fell down, and went to all fours on the grass to the side, his clipboard tumbling away. I caught it in mid-fall before it and his pen could touch the ground, and flipped them up to my hand patiently with TK.

“Tell me,” he said from deep down in his throat, “that you aren’t lying.” His hands clutched at the grass.

“Why tell, when I can show?” I waved my hand lazily, and glittering stars, one of each type of Elemental Mana, swirled into existence around my hand. He turned his head to stare at them through his glasses, the expression only a man who had lived his whole life without real magic could have.

The KIA boys just crossed their arms and nodded to themselves. They all knew that look, and definitely weren’t going to mock him about it, even here.

It took Mr. Charles a moment to get control of himself, gritting his teeth and climbing back to his feet. He dusted himself off, and looked at the team grimly as he accepted his clipboard back.

“Where you from?” he asked them pointedly.

The Mick held up his right hand, pointed right into the cleft between thumb and forefinger. “Bunyantown, right on the Bay and the Saginaw.” Just the gesture alone made Mr. Charles visibly relax. Michiganders always carried around their own map.

“Lumbertown boys?” Mr. Charles asked quickly.

They all grunted, with Swampy scoffing loudly, “Well, we certainly ain’t from any of the Families!” he muttered. “Neither of my folks or my little brother are mages. I’ve got a sister who does Earth Magic, though.”

“Second sister does Light Magic,” Red agreed. “Closest otherwise is an uncle who did Water Magic.”

All of the boys quickly chimed in with their family tales, and Mr. Charles calmed down visibly as they did. He turned his eyes on me, and I raised my hands. “You really don’t want to know who my family is,” I informed him, “so I won’t bring them up if you won’t.”

“Deal,” he agreed promptly. “Sorry for the attitude, everyone. The Two have both some eager enemies from out of state, and a lot of visitors with, ah, attitude and arrogance.” His smile was grim. “They don’t like coming here.”

The Mick pounded on his chest extravagantly, wheezing loudly. “Can’t imagine why, poor bastards,” he observed, and everyone laughed. “The Lady says you’ve got some nasty defenses here, and we’re taking her word on it.”

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Mr. Charles’ smile was both mean and confident as his dark eyes flashed. “We’ve got some of the most dangerous defenses on the planet, stuff you won’t see anywhere else. We’re pretty sure that most of it can’t even be made outside the White Zone here.” He waved his hand around us. “They’re waiting inside the garage to meet you. She said you wouldn’t need to stand on ceremony, but also said to tell you she’s got a QL 35 desk and chairs set which looks very nice she can impress you all with later.”

“35?” blurted out Big John, whistling. “If that’s anything like the Rings!...”

Mr. Charles’ eyes flickered to me again, astonished again, trying to conceal it, and then he sighed again.

“He’s got that look we all get,” Burt observed knowingly.

“Yeah, saw that,” Glenn agreed, piling on. “Which ‘holy fuck what the Hell now?’ surprised you this time? That we know about Quality Level?”

Mr. Charles slowly shook his head. “You... said she could make Rings...” His eyes dropped to my left ring finger, where Zeben glittered tellingly for a moment, and then he turned around as all the boys brought their hands up, thumbing their Rings for emphasis. “Shiiiiit...”

“It’s something I’ll be teaching all of you, too, Mr. Charles,” I assured him.

He hung his head slightly. “I suppose you know what this is, too?” he asked, tapping his shoulder holster, which drew a lot of curious looks from the boys.

I gestured up an earthen block from the grass ten yards away, even as I held out my left hand and the object in the holster leapt into my grasp. A TK once-over assured me of the safety’s location, which I released with a flick, set my grip with both hands, sighted in, and commenced to pull the trigger of the pistol rapidly, using Zeben’s TK to hold it steadier than I should have been able to.

Little slugs of lead cracked out at about three shots per second, and I slow-mo’d the brass shells as they were ejected in their little arcs, suspending them in mid-air instead of letting them scatter. Tufts of dirt exploded out of the dirt block as the shots drilled through it, spraying everywhere, but absorbing the bullets safely.

There was a click as the clip was emptied. I ejected the clip as the action stayed back. I stared at the clip, magic swirled around it, and the floating brass began to disappear one by one, reappearing inside and building back up into the clip, courtesy of Abundant Ammunition. When they were gone, I re-inserted the clip, racked the action, and held it back out to him butt-first as I flipped the safety back on.

“Yes,” I confirmed. He was staring at me again, but he took the firearm and carefully put it back in his shoulder holster regardless. “God made men, but Briggs made men equal,” I informed him, and he jumped in shock again.

“How did you...” he started and then shook his head again, while the KIA boys just chuckled wryly again. “That’s it!” he swore at me, pointing at me with his clipboard. “I refuse to be startled again!”

“Good luck with that!” the Mick said brightly, the boys all nodding in the face of his dramatically-overdone glare, and he marched on, shooing us after him.

“I am so gonna get mocked for losing my cool to a bunch of mages,” he shook his head. “You might imagine that we don’t see a lot of you around here, and playing it cool with mages is pretty much a right we enjoy here.”

“Are the Refractories rated for Sages?” I asked calmly.

He almost flinched, the boys laughed again, and at last he managed ruefully, “Theoretically? If they are in the Zone, almost certainly. In, in, go in, I’m embarrassing myself so badly here...” he opened the side door to the garage, and we all headed inside.

There were a bunch of vehicles in here, none of which any of them had ever seen before. I listened to their soft exclamations of the armored vehicles, Driver Sam especially, and oddly enough Tox was whistling softly under his breath, too. They didn’t know what all the attachments and goodies on the things were, but they certainly looked dangerous, and after my demonstration just now, the long, narrow tubes of dark metal had a threatening demeanor about them.

“They’re magical. The steel, it’s enchanted!” Driver Sam said softly, running his hand down the side of one of the camo-painted vehicles.

“All of them are,” I confirmed before Mr. Charles could. “Now buck up. You thought a White Zone was bad?”

They steeled themselves, while Mr. Charles smiled behind them as I led them towards the center of the noise.

There were parts on raised racks and chains, sparks flying as welders worked to put the vehicles together. Driver Sam and Tox were almost twitching, eager to get over there and take a look at the twisting, gleaming metal of the engines and armor plates.

I held back, staying out of the work zone of the team there assembling what looked to be some form of armored land cruiser for six or eight.

There were six men, two women. The smaller of the women was doing a welding job down low, obviously used to working in tighter quarters. The taller and leaner of the two women, with long blonde hair worn in a waist-length mass of thick braids, reached out with one hand, not looking, and picked up a section of armored plate with ease, snapping it into place with a very heavy clang we could feel in our boots. She held it there as two glossy black, inhuman arms unfolded out of nowhere on her hips, grabbed a welding torch, lit it, and began to secure the panel in place with quick, professional movements.

Then the leader of the crew rose to his feet, and all the boys’ eyebrows went up at the sheer size of the man. His heavy brow, thick mane of hair, and massive build made him look positively Neanderthalic, and then he reached over, grabbed the engine for the machine with one hand, and lightly brought it over and lowered it down onto the chassis.

All the boys swallowed as he one-armed at least five hundred pounds of gleaming metal, piping, tubes, and cylinders, plus the wiring. It didn’t look like he was making any sort of effort, either.

“Is he... using magic for that?” Big John squeaked. He and Swampy were always the muscle of the team, when needed.

“No,” I said even before Mr. Charles could. “He and Sama could lift that whole car and throw it across the room. Please don’t make them angry.”

I heard them swallow and knew it would not be a problem, while Mr. Charles gave me another one of those glances wondering how I knew that.

The team had the engine secured in just a couple minutes, Briggs directing the whole thing and occasionally helping out here or there. Sama finished up her welding job immaculately at about the same time, a flash of light trailing down multiple panels along the side of the car as she did so, gleaming Runes of unfamiliar design to the boys flashing once before fading back into invisibility.

Briggs grunted when he saw us, his pale violet eyes flickering over to me and gesturing to Sama, who turned back to look at us.

The Hag-Scarring on the side of her face was more blue than purple here, and a different pattern, but it was still there. The heavens-blue eyes were familiar, and although she looked different, she was still a scarred stunner of a woman.

She flicked her hands, and the dirt and grime on them hit the floor with an audible splat. She glided our way, and I could almost feel the tension rise as she cleared twice the length of her stride with every step and a grace that just screamed danger to anyone with any sense.

I stepped forward and extended my hand as her Null swept over us.