Lodrán finally dared to risk a look; he walked across the opening, poking at his phone with a sidelong look down the hallway. One door was open, nobody standing watch. He stopped, phone to his ear, and counted: fourth door on the right. He turned and made his silent way back to the stairwell door.
“We have what we need,” he told Freddy, punching the buttons that would connect him with Chuck.
“Hello?” said Chuck.
“Hi,” said Lodrán. “They really did deliver the package. I found where they left it.”
“That’s good. Chelinn says you need to join us here, though. He’s got the booth set up, but we still need to unpack the merchandise.”
• • •
They gathered at the auditorium early Saturday, well before the con opened. Freddy slipped away, then returned and touched Lodrán’s elbow. “That room downstairs? It’s locked.”
“We expected that, right?” said Chelinn. “Lodrán heard them unlocking the door. It stands to reason that they would lock it behind them.” He grinned. “Not that a lock would slow you down much, Lodrán.”
“These locks are more sophisticated than what we face at home.” Lodrán shrugged. “Fortunately, I’ve had opportunity to practice. Given a few minutes, I will prevail.”
“Here they come,” said Chuck, in his wizard outfit. Down at the end of the auditorium, attendees crowded through the doors, an endless torrent of humanity.
“So many people,” Lodrán breathed.
“Heh. There’s more than this, but the others are at the keynote address.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh. That’s where someone gives a speech. It’s a local author this year.” Chuck grinned. “A lot of people who come to these cons want to be authors as well. It gives them a chance to network—meet other people, maybe someone who can help them along. They have writing workshops, critique groups, roundtables, you name it.”
Further conversation was cut off by the throng reaching Chuck’s booth. People swarmed around them, marveling at Chelinn’s and Lodrán’s “costumes.” Lodrán, who considered attention potentially fatal, quickly grew nervous.
Chuck soon noticed Lodrán’s discomfort. “Go outside,” he said. “Take a walk. We’ll be alright here. Keep an eye out for you-know-who.” Lodrán nodded and left before Chuck could change his mind.
The front entrance was still crowded with people lined up to get in, and Lodrán went to the loading docks. A security guard let him through, after a quick glance at his vendor’s pass, and Lodrán breathed a sigh of relief in the dim quiet. He considered slipping downstairs and picking the lock on the door concealing the bomb, but dismissed it. The lock would give way, but then what?
He considered his options: stand in one place, or get some fresh air outside? As he’d done plenty of the first already this morning, he chose the second option and went to the parking lot. So much iron here… Chelinn had already bought several large boxes of nails, as much iron as he could carry, for the return trip. Imagine your car to be made of gold , he’d told Chuck, and you’ll understand how we feel when we sit inside one . He wandered between the cars, lost in thought.
“Hey!” a woman’s voice called out. “Hey!” Lodrán cursed himself for his continued lack of vigilance, then turned in the direction of the cry. A woman stood next to one of the cars, making a “come here” gesture. Lodrán looked around—he was the only other person in sight—then shrugged and made his way over to her.
The woman was round and soft, not the standard of beauty here, but close to Termag’s. She wore tight clothes that made her curves bulge, and her shirt was imprinted with lettering. Chelinn had thrown himself into learning the local script more than Lodrán, but after a moment he made out a cryptic message: GEEK GIRLS RULE . Her hair was much like Chelinn’s: the same color, straight, but cut shorter.
“Hey,” she said again as he
“We have what we need,” he told Freddy, punching the buttons that would connect him with Chuck.
“Hello?” said Chuck.
“Hi,” said Lodrán. “They really did deliver the package. I found where they left it.”
“That’s good. Chelinn says you need to join us here, though. He’s got the booth set up, but we still need to unpack the merchandise.”
• • •
They gathered at the auditorium early Saturday, well before the con opened. Freddy slipped away, then returned and touched Lodrán’s elbow. “That room downstairs? It’s locked.”
“We expected that, right?” said Chelinn. “Lodrán heard them unlocking the door. It stands to reason that they would lock it behind them.” He grinned. “Not that a lock would slow you down much, Lodrán.”
“These locks are more sophisticated than what we face at home.” Lodrán shrugged. “Fortunately, I’ve had opportunity to practice. Given a few minutes, I will prevail.”
“Here they come,” said Chuck, in his wizard outfit. Down at the end of the auditorium, attendees crowded through the doors, an endless torrent of humanity.
“So many people,” Lodrán breathed.
“Heh. There’s more than this, but the others are at the keynote address.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh. That’s where someone gives a speech. It’s a local author this year.” Chuck grinned. “A lot of people who come to these cons want to be authors as well. It gives them a chance to network—meet other people, maybe someone who can help them along. They have writing workshops, critique groups, roundtables, you name it.”
Further conversation was cut off by the throng reaching Chuck’s booth. People swarmed around them, marveling at Chelinn’s and Lodrán’s “costumes.” Lodrán, who considered attention potentially fatal, quickly grew nervous.
Chuck soon noticed Lodrán’s discomfort. “Go outside,” he said. “Take a walk. We’ll be alright here. Keep an eye out for you-know-who.” Lodrán nodded and left before Chuck could change his mind.
The front entrance was still crowded with people lined up to get in, and Lodrán went to the loading docks. A security guard let him through, after a quick glance at his vendor’s pass, and Lodrán breathed a sigh of relief in the dim quiet. He considered slipping downstairs and picking the lock on the door concealing the bomb, but dismissed it. The lock would give way, but then what?
He considered his options: stand in one place, or get some fresh air outside? As he’d done plenty of the first already this morning, he chose the second option and went to the parking lot. So much iron here… Chelinn had already bought several large boxes of nails, as much iron as he could carry, for the return trip. Imagine your car to be made of gold , he’d told Chuck, and you’ll understand how we feel when we sit inside one . He wandered between the cars, lost in thought.
“Hey!” a woman’s voice called out. “Hey!” Lodrán cursed himself for his continued lack of vigilance, then turned in the direction of the cry. A woman stood next to one of the cars, making a “come here” gesture. Lodrán looked around—he was the only other person in sight—then shrugged and made his way over to her.
The woman was round and soft, not the standard of beauty here, but close to Termag’s. She wore tight clothes that made her curves bulge, and her shirt was imprinted with lettering. Chelinn had thrown himself into learning the local script more than Lodrán, but after a moment he made out a cryptic message: GEEK GIRLS RULE . Her hair was much like Chelinn’s: the same color, straight, but cut shorter.
“Hey,” she said again as he
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