Ragnarock (25 page)

"Okay, you're crazy." Boom said with a smile. "Now that we've established that, count me in. If we're going to have any chance of figuring out Winternight's plans, we'd better get started."

"Right." Talon said. "Here's what we'll do. Silverblade and I will go astral and try to track down our blades. That might tell us where Winternight is, or at least where some of them are."

Silverblade nodded without comment.

"Trouble, get back on the 'trix and get the buzz on what's happening in the city. Find out if there's anything Winternight might target—something that could attract terrorists with a bomb they're itching to use."

"Sure, nothing to it." Trouble quipped. "I'm on it."

"Val, use any contacts you've still got in Berlin and get the same scan. See what you can find out about Winternight, but don't give away too much about who we're looking for. Try checking up on Alt Welt or Runenthing. The local groups might have ties. While you're at it, see if you can scrounge us some heavier weaponry. I have a feeling we're going to need it. Boom, you and Hammer . . ."

"I know." the troll said. "We cool our heels and keep an eye out for trouble until it's time to kick some butt."

Talon grinned. "Right in one. You can also try checking up on some of your contacts to find out what they know about the Saeder-Krupp situation. If something's going down in the corporate sector, we need to know about it."

"Got it." Boom said.

"Okay people, let's get to work."

* * *

It didn't take Val long to arrange a place for the team to crash and set things up. Smugglers were regular visitors to Berlin, and the shadows of the city worked to accommodate those who brought needed supplies and other goods across the walls from the outside world. Val's friends provided a tiny apartment, but it had the necessary amenities, including a jackpoint Trouble could use to access the Berlin Matrix.

Talon and Speren would use one of the apartment's two bedrooms to begin their astral journey.

The bed was little more than a cot, and Talon pushed it against one wall to make room on the floor for them both to lie down. Hammer and the others could keep watch over their physical bodies while their astral forms went looking for their stolen magical weapons.

"Are you actually prepared to take on a great dragon?" Silverblade asked as they pushed the remaining beat-up pieces of furniture out of the way.

"I'm hoping it doesn't come to that." Talon said. "But I will if I have to. Whatever Alamais is up to, it affects a lot more than just us. I want Saeder-Krupp off my back, but I don't want the deaths of the people Winternight is planning to kill on my conscience."

"Conscience." Speren muttered. "And here I thought that term was incompatible with being a shadowrunner."

"Some shadowrunners would agree with you, but I'm not one of them. We do what we must to survive in the shadows, but that doesn't mean we have no honor or decency."

"More words I never expected to hear from a shadowrunner's lips." Silverblade said. "But you say you do this because you must. Why? I can understand about some of your companions not having any other choice, but what about you, Talon? With your skills you could write your own ticket working for any number of corporations or other organizations."

"Like the government, you mean?" Talon said. "Sorry, I nearly went the wagemage route once. I've got no interest in going that way again."

"So instead, you use your abilities to be a more effective criminal?"

"Says the government spy." Talon said with a smile. "Chummer, I run the shadows because all I've ever seen the big noises do is use people: corporations, governments, policlubs, syndicates, all the fat cats. They take what they want and when they're done with you, they spit out what's left. You might call me a mercenary, and that's true. I work for whoever pays me. I don't work for people out of a sense of loyalty or devotion to a cause, I work because they pay me. In my view that doesn't make me any different from a high-priced corporate mage head-hunting for the best salary, or even the political-climbing government spook. It just makes me more honest. I know how the game works, and I play by my own rules. When it comes right down to it, Silverblade, you and I are a lot more alike than you may think."

"Perhaps." the elf said.

"What about you? What's your angle, paladin? Patriotism?"

"In part." Silverblade said. "Like many elves, I was not born in Tir Tairngire. The place doesn't really matter. It was a city like so many in this world: dirty, downtrodden, and hopeless, especially for those not fortunate enough to be born human. My mother was human . . ."

His voice took on a distant quality as he relived the old memories. "She wanted more than anything for me to be able to live in the elven homeland, away from the violence and the hunger and the despair of where she came from. She sacrificed everything to make that happen. In the Land of Promise, I found hope, and acceptance and a new life, like a dream come true. And I think every day of those of my people who also dream of such a life and never find it. I serve Tir Tairngire out of gratitude for what she has done for me, and to protect my people from those who would see us destroyed."

"A noble cause." Talon said. "Too bad Tir Tairngire only provides opportunities for some and not others."

"Are we to be expected to save the world?"

"Chummer, in my experience, you can't save the world. You can only hope to improve your little corner of it for a while. But for me, that's enough. Right now, I want to find my mageblade and figure out what that dragon is up to. You up for it?"

"Of course."

"Then let's go."

They stretched out on the floor side by side, settling down as comfortably as the worn hardwood and thin carpeting would allow. Talon closed his eyes and regulated his breathing in slow, even breaths. He let all the muscles of his body relax and allowed his awareness of it to recede until his astral body slipped free of the bonds of his material self and he found himself hovering above his body, which still lay on the floor. Silverblade's astral form hovered nearby, the two of them casting a faint glow from their auras in the dimly lit room.

Arcos appeared near Talon in the form of a goldenwinged hawk, his aura glowing brightly.

"Ready to go." the spirit said.

Talon focused his awareness on his enchanted dagger. He concentrated on the feeling of the cool, chain-wrapped hilt pressed against his palm, on the keen edge of the rune-marked blade, on the fiery gleam of the opal set into the pommel, and on the steady glow of its aura. He saw his connection to Talonclaw like a faintly glowing thread, connected to his aura and stretching out through the astral plane toward his mageblade. Once he had the thread firmly in sight, he glanced over at Silverblade.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes." Silverblade said. "I can see the connection to Argentine."

"Let's go then, and try and stick together."

The three astral forms passed up and through the roof of the small apartment and out into the city beyond. The light of dawn was coloring the horizon, and the city below was starting to wake from the night's slumber, people warily crawling out from behind whatever shelter they'd taken during the night. The nighttime predators, both human and otherwise, took shelter from the growing light, retiring to their own dens. The glowing threads guided their way as they took flight over Berlin and headed northward, toward the center of the city.

Following the trail through the astral plane was painstaking. Normally, Talon's astral form could have traversed the city from one end to the other in a matter of moments, using the blinding speed available to astral travelers, but such speeds make following the complex twists and turns the trail took all but impossible. Still, they traveled far more quickly
than they could have in the physical world. In only
a matter of hours, they reached what Talon hoped was their destination.

It was a fairly nondescript building in the city, in what Talon guessed was a working-class neighborhood, though it was difficult to tell with Berlin. The building was two stories and built like a concrete bunker. There was a broad sign over the doorway. The language was a meaningless jumble of abstract symbols to someone in the astral, but Talon did notice what looked like a wolf's head on the sign. The magical trail to Talonclaw led inside and did not emerge, so he surmised that his mageblade was somewhere within.

"Aracos, take a look at this place physically." he told his familiar. The spirit materialized in hawk form on the physical plane near the roof, then took wing, making a fly-by around the outside of the building. Talon wished Aracos had a less distinctive form at that moment, but there was nothing to be done about it. He and Silverblade couldn't read abstract things like text from the astral, so Aracos had to serve as their physical "eyes."

"Place is called the Wolfsschanze, boss."
the spirit said in Talon's thoughts. He memorized the name, although he didn't speak German, and his language chip wouldn't interface with his astral form anyway. He'd have Trouble check up on it later.

"What does your spirit report?" Silverblade asked, a note of impatience in his voice. Talon filled him in.

"The Wolf's Lair." Silverblade said.

"What's that?"

"Wolfsschanze, it's German for 'wolf's lair.' It was the name Adolf Hitler gave to his secret bunker during World War II, more than a hundred years ago."

"Charming." Talon said. "I didn't know you were a student of ancient history."

"I'm not. But this place is known to us as a regular meeting place for sympathizers of the Humanis Policlub in Germany. They're ultra right-wing German nationalists and neo-Nazis opposed to the 'pollution' of the pure Aryan race with metahuman genes."

"Frag." Talon said. "Humanis—just what we needed."

"It's very possible the group has been co-opted by Winternight, become another of their front organizations. Or perhaps they aren't even aware they're being used. Members of organizations like this are given to mindless obedience to their leaders. They don't question orders."

"Either way, they've got our mageblades, which means they might have some leads about what Winternight is up to. We should take a look inside."

"Agreed," Silverblade said, "but cautiously."

The two of them moved toward the upper story of the building and carefully probed the walls.

"Warded." Talon said. "I'll bet that's not standard Humanis-issue."

"Not necessarily. The Humanis have been known to work with magicians. Racism is hardly limited to the mundane. Still, I agree that it is unusual."

"If we bust through this, whoever put it here will know we've come calling. But we need to get a look inside this place." Talon mused. He turned to Silverblade. "I assume you're familiar with the concept of spoofing wards?"

The elf smiled, smug satisfaction lighting up his
aura. "Astral counter-intrusion measures? We practically invented them."

"Of course." Talon said. "Let's try it, then. Aracos, you wait out here and be on the lookout for any unexpected company. Let me know if anyone shows up."

"Got it." the spirit said.

Talon and Speren pressed their astral hands out against the ward, which followed the contours of the building's own walls. They probed with their magical senses, studying the structure and aura of the wards. Every magical ward contained the owner's astral signature, a kind of psychic and magical "fingerprint" that was unique to each individual worker of the arts of magic. A ward automatically recognized the aura of its creator, allowing him or her to pass through the barrier as if it weren't even there. A while back, magicians seeking a means of defeating wards came up with a way of adjusting their own aura to match the "signature" of the ward's creator, allowing them to slip through undetected. It was considerably more difficult than simply breaking the ward down, but it had the benefit of leaving the ward intact and keeping its creator ignorant of any trespass.

Talon studied the ward carefully, taking in its essence, getting a feel for its energy. Then he began altering his own aura, like a musician tuning an instrument, going up and down the scales, looking for exactly the right pitch. He zeroed in on the signature and felt the ward begin to give slightly under his touch. With a few minor adjustments to his aura, he matched the correct signature exactly, and the ward allowed him to pass. About the same time, Silverblade did the same and they both slipped through the magical barrier as if it were no more than mist.

The second floor of the Wolf's Lair was apparently set up as living space for the proprietor and whomever he chose to have as guests. The quarters were paramilitary in style, and the only decorations were Humanis neo-Nazi propaganda posters and flags mounted on the bare walls. The ongoing atmosphere of hatred and bigotry in the place tainted the astral plane within. Talon felt like he was swimming through polluted waters as he floated through the ether inside the building.

There were no signs of any other magical defenses within, for which Talon was grateful. They probably figured the wards were sufficient to dissuade casual intruders and alert them to anyone else. The two magicians made a quick survey of the top floor and found it inhabited by nearly a dozen Humanis club members, most of them asleep or just waking up to perform morning calisthenics, like so many soldiers in an army barracks. The mageblades were locked up in a safe, inside what Talon took to be the proprietor's office.