“Steal, pillage and take their women. The winner gets it all.”

- A memory of the Old Ones.

***Carinthia***

***Magnus***

I feel the Veil shudder. Someone broke into my territory. Five people. That's not so bad. I thought that they would send more to test me. So is it the Hammons, or the Baucheaux? It probably doesn't matter. I snarl and slam the mug of coffee onto the kitchen table, startling Kath. The child was stirring her cereals around as if they are inedible. “Tell the others to stay inside the reality marble.”

Not waiting for an answer, I leave the kitchen and head for my weapon arsenal in the apartment. To my luck I don't run into anyone else. They would surely want to help me, but I don't want Sely to risk her life.

On my way there, I make a few calls to ensure that I am the one who finds the intruders, and not the other way around.

At the safe I armour myself with everything that's acceptable without raising too many eyebrows. It would be cool to wear the dragon scale vest against rifle bullets. I imported the thing from the USA, but it's way too clunky to be worn concealed.

After loading four guns and hiding them under my cloak, I strap the two dwarven daggers to my forearms. Their blades are long and have a wicked curve. But that's not why I bought them. The dwarves spent a lot of effort to make sure that these two beauties can break through most magical defences. That will be very useful if I encounter someone who likes to use spells like stoneskin.

The belt with my set of special surprises is clasped around my waist before I close the coat. The belt carries some grenades and magical gimmicks like a set of magic cards and dices. Let MtG deal with the intruders.

Two minutes later I am out the door and in my car, heading for the fringe of the industry area.

I find Eva at her usual place and park the SUV close to her. Then I let down the window. “It's unusual that you are still awake at this hour.”

Eva smiles with a tired expression. “Don't act as if you don't know the reason. The fact that you called the chieftains of our little community and warned them about intruders means that we are in immediate danger. By the time you made your third call, the entire territory knew that something is going to happen. My family is on guard.”

“I just want to make sure that I am the hunter and not the hunted,” I answer. “I want you to instruct your vamps to search for them. Five Old Ones.”

Eva winces. “But it's in the middle of the day. Just look at my state. The sun burning us may be a myth, but it's much too bright.”

“I've already instructed Paul to use his people's water magic to thicken the fog. In one to two hours you won't see farther than fifty metres,” I explain.

Eva widens her eyes? “They can do that? I didn't know that the creepy fellows could do more than eat corpses and croak about their beautiful lake.”

Well, the whole has had the quality of drinking water ever since they took up residence there. I laugh bitterly. Sometimes it comes with a price to accommodate certain supernatural species in my territory. “Why do you think we have fog for three or even four days a week. Paul's people like it when the sun doesn't burn their skin and the air is murky, filled with water.”

Eva sneers. “Do you mean that my neophytes could have more sun if those guys weren't around?”

“Be glad, or your people wouldn't be able to go outside today. Vamps have the best senses among the supernaturals. I need my little, bloodsucking ninjas to find the intruders.” I press on the button to close the window.

She laughs and gives me a last complaint before the window is closed completely. “It's yet to be seen if that’s a blessing or a curse.”

I leave Eva behind and take a look at the gasometer. With the tank three quarters full I can drive around half the day and search for any traces of magic. I grunt and prepare myself for a long day.

It's one pm when Eva calls me, informing me of five Old Ones who had set up camp in one of the many castle ruins around the city. “It looks like they are trying to fortify it with magic. I assume that they aren't here to attack, but to create a safe base for future operations.”

That would explain why there are only five of them. They are supposed to hide until their base of operations is safe. Then they'll call for reinforcements. Probably they aren't even very strong fighters, but specialized on creating magical wards.

“You can retreat and clear the area of any spectators. I'll deal with them.” I end the call and follow Eva's directions. On my way I try to remember the layout of the ruin. To call it a castle is an exaggeration. If it had been one, it would've been renovated and turned into a tourist trap long ago.

To call it a watchtower is more accurate. The basement is still there, although the upper floors are crumbled and unusable. The wall around it is also riddled with holes. There is only one real reason to choose that place over others, and that's the fact that it's far away from any humans.

The watchtower was built on top of a mountain which is the property of the state. There are no houses in a ten kilometre radius. If I had known that they will choose such a place, I would've armed myself to the teeth.

But there is no point in yearning for more weaponry at this point. If I go home to add to my arsenal, I might end up giving them the time they need to fully fortify the place. At least I've a few heavy weapons inside the SUV's boot.

Halfway up the mountain I stop the car at the roadside. The fact that the place is barred against public entry makes it impossible to drive there all the way. The road isn't even freed of snow. With one metre of the white stuff, my car would just get stuck. Another point is that I hope to get in some lucky shots before the battle starts.

I end up fighting my way through hip-deep snow, which takes longer than expected. Even with the use of magic.

All the time I watch the trees and bushes around me for the invaders. But there is nothing. At one point I even find a few footprints, but the snow's surface inside them is already hard. That makes them older than one or two hours. Probably one of Eva's vamps.

At last, I arrive at the ruin, grenade launcher in hand and an StG on my shoulder. The grenade launcher is an old model, but reliable. I've fired more than a thousand rounds with it. Not a single misfire.

I study what little I can see of the ruin. There is the wall and a part of the crumbled tower behind it. A whole section of the wall is down, which would give me easy access if I decide to go in. My position isn't perfect, but has the least chance of discovery with the thick shrubbery around me. And if I want to disappear completely, I just have to throw myself into the snow.

While I mull over possible ways to proceed, I feel strong magical emissions from the ruin. My friends are working fast and dirty, throwing around some serious power. It's possible that they are even trying to create a reality marble. They must have a power stone with them. It's too much magic for just five people.

I curse and carefully fight my way through the snow. Instead of going through the open section in the wall, I choose the most sturdy part. If my friends decided to place some traps for unwelcome guests, then they surely took care of the obvious entry points first. Climbing the wall increases my chances to surprise them.

It turns out to be easy enough, because of the rough stonework. There is actually more danger of grabbing a loose stone, than in finding no footholds. But in the end I manage it without making too much noise. I slowly take a first peek over the wall. The snow in the inner yard of the ruin is trampled and filled with a network of paths. A man is standing watch at the entrance to the ruin's basement.

The others are surely busy with weaving their spells.

A sudden urge demands that I jump down there to scream a challenge and charge in. And that would be extremely stupid, but so satisfying. I bite down on my tongue and fight my instincts. Then I notice the rune which was carved into one of the stones. Lucky me. I chose exactly that stone to hold onto.

I flex my fingers and break the stone out of the brickwork. The strange urge to attack like a maniac immediately weakens. It isn't gone, but it's much easier to control. Subtle magic. They didn't have the time to place a real trap, so they used runes to influence attackers into announcing themselves. Makes me wonder what other surprises they have at the obvious access points.

Showing a lot of patience, I wait until the guard looks the other way. Ever so slowly, I pull myself up and over the wall. Landing on the other side doesn't require magic. The deep snow is enough to buffer the fall. After a minute it's clear that I wasn't seen.

The snow is so fluffy that it would be a joy to ski in it. In my current situation it's also beneficial, since I can use it to approach the guard unseen. I burrow my way forward, straining my sense of magic to check if I was noticed.

When I am twenty metres away from the target, I determine that I am close enough to have a sure shot. Even with a grenade launcher, against an Old One, it's not guaranteed to kill unless it hits them squarely. He would be hurt and marred by shrapnel. That's without question. But people often overestimate the effectiveness of explosions. If he has a shield up, everything that's not a clean hit won't even incapacitate him.

I get to my knees and check the grenade launcher with my fingers. The powder snow is everywhere. When I find no problem with the clip that holds the eight grenades, I rise and aim the launcher.

The man's head snaps towards me as I press the trigger. And again, and again. As I do so, I mumble the incantations to raise my own shields. The first explosion throws up snow and brickwork, enveloping the man. I didn't hit him, but I continue to fire until a foot flops into the snow next to me.

Two rounds left in the chamber, I concentrate to send energy through my muscles. Then I jump high and wide, landing on top of the crumbled remains of the tower. I turn around and aim at the entrance to the basement. The dust has settled, granting me a nice view on the scattered remains of the guard.

That's when things go wrong. I should have known that the one guard was too obvious. I feel the magic behind me one moment before it hits my shield with a flash of light, draining me and throwing me off the tower. Falling, I send the last two grenades at the tower, randomly guessing my attacker's position.

He must've hidden himself with some sort of invisibility.

Still falling, I let go of the grenade launcher and land in the snow. Not idling around, I jump forward and into the entrance to the basement. Behind me is another flash of light, but I don't care, choosing the way forward. It was obviously a miscalculation that none of them can fight. They brought at least one capable person.

The basement is a single, large room. To my great satisfaction I find three Old Ones who were obviously busy scratching the walls with runes. Two men and a woman. One of them throws some kind of curse at me. I roll to the side, discharging the StG into the room.

One of them screams, telling me that he didn't ward himself properly. I throw the now empty StG at him, thrusting my hand forward to enhance its speed with force magic. The weapon impacts his chest with a satisfying thud. But that gave the other two time to act. More spells impact my shields, making them waver dangerously.

Now empty handed, I reach for the sides of my belt and send the two claymores spinning into the room. Retreating to the exit, I throw two more grenades behind me for good measure, filling the small room with enough explosives to shred everything inside.

The shockwave practically carries me out of the basement, back into the open where I roll thrice before I am hit with a third flash of light. This time I saw the spell's blue orb of energy coming.

It sends me to the ground, taking out my shields as some of the kinetic force breaks through. It cracks a rib or two, a familiar feeling. I grit my teeth and get back to my feet, hands at my belt.

“Is this a joke? You are out of magic already? You aren't as strong as they said.”

A female voice talks to me out of thin air. I whirl around and concentrate, but I can't sense anything. The second guard is good at hiding herself. And she has a lot of power. Those blue energy sparks pack a real punch. My shields are enough to walk through a rain of bullets. Her spell took them down with two good hits. The guys in the basement also drained my magic, but each of her spells took away at least a fourth of my power.

“You are running out of toys.”

Another blue orb shoots out from a different direction and I flick out one of the cards. The magical matrix inside it activates the blue orb early, leaving me untouched. There is a small gust of wind, but that’s all. The spell seems to be aimed at destroying magical defences.

I reach for my pocket and whirl around to scatter the dices in the area. “The question is how much longer you can hold that invisibility of yours while casting force magic at me. Because once that runs out, you are dead meat.”

Another blue orb and I counter it again. “Is that all? Are you a two trick pony?” Not that her perfect invisibility is a bad trick. She must be simultaneously using force magic to float. Otherwise I would notice her footprints in the snow. She must be carrying the power stone. That’s why the whole area is brimming with magic. They set this up to give her the chance to catch me.

“Long enough.”

This time I am too late in countering the spell, but the dices around me activate. They create a dampening field that dissolves the spell. That's when one of the others stumbles out of the basement, moaning. Four long steps bring me to his side and I grab him.

Flicking my wrist, I have one of the dwarven daggers out and at his throat. “Get out of my territory and I'll let him live.”

The man doesn't allow himself to twitch a single muscle as we wait.

“You are lying.”

“You are right.” I shrug and cut off his head. The enchanted dwarven steel sinks through flesh and bone as if they are butter.

The rolling head is answered by another blue orb, but I use the body as a shield to protect myself. The impact throws me to the ground. I check my surroundings and see a woman fading into existence, not more than five metres away from me. She thuds to the ground, her magic clearly spent. But unlike me, she is still up and walking. She drops the used up power stone onto the ground.

Lying there, I reach for the corpse and mumble another incantation, spending my last reserves.

Using magic isn't an exact science. A lot of training is necessary and the most important part is learning your own limits. No mage has an exact idea of how many spells he or she can cast on a single day.

It's a lot like weight lifting. On an average day you may lift the bar eight times before your muscles give out. On a good one you may even reach eleven. The point is that nobody can be absolutely sure that he has the power for that tenth or eleventh push.

And if you've misjudged yourself, you lose consciousness. That's a death sentence if your opponent is still up and walking. As I cast the spell, I realize that I've pushed myself too far with that last spell. The lights go out.

I can't have been out for long. The sun is still high in the sky when I open my eyes again. I am on my back and have a splitting headache. I get to my knees and look around. Sure enough, the woman is wrestling with the headless corpse. But she is spent and has no more reserves. She should've walked away when she had the chance.

Seeing me unconscious must've made her greedy to finish it. Maybe she even had a wish for revenge after I took out her comrades. I was lucky to cast that last reanimation spell. Grabbing the nearby dagger, I get to my feet and approach her.

The zombie is doing a fine job in holding her down while I stab the dagger into her again and again. They are so entangled that I don't get a clean shot at her neck. The pain revives her strength and she throws off the zombie.

I jump onto her, holding the dagger to her throat. “Baucheaux, or Hammon?”

She stops resisting. “Baucheaux. I request to barter my body for my life. I accept you as my clan-head.”

That’s an acceptable way to save yourself after a lost battle with another clan. Better being a slave than dead. The tradition is as old as the world. I study her beautiful freckled face with the red hair and the deep green eyes. “I am afraid that I already have a woman to warm my bed. And she would kill you anyway. You are competition.”

I cut into her throat and off goes the head. Sighing, I get back to my feet. “And besides. I don't trust someone who still has a whole clan back at home.” I stretch my sore body and try to assess the damage. My chest still hurts, but I can breathe.

Looking up, I realize that the headless corpse still has a little time until the magic runs out. I hand it one of my daggers. “Collect the heads in the basement.”

I'll send them back to their owner.

I collect the power stone and lean back against the tower's wall to rest. The stone is a big chunk of obsidian. Empty now, but I can charge it again.

It's a bother to check for the other two who are still in the basement. Sending the zombie has the benefit that I won't be the one who falls into the trap. Just in case that one of them had a similar idea as I had.

My fears turn out to be unwarranted when the zombie returns with two more heads from the basement. He piles the four heads up in front of me, then I send him searching for the fifth one. The guy who got hit with the grenade launcher spread himself all over the yard. The corpse just manages to find the head hidden deep under the snow before it topples over. Time out.

With five heads in a looted overall, I make my way back to the SUV.