After the awkward and stilted threats made at Yheta's birthday party, I decided to move to my next step. I started by teleporting myself to Daropp Town, in the middle of the night. I had to stand for a few minutes to get my night vision back, after the bright lights of the void. Then I charged myself with the essence of the owl to boost my senses, my quietness of step, and lightness of body. I flitted down streets, aware of all, quick and quiet. The merchant's quarter was easy to find.

  It looked just like I remembered. But this time with no soldiers. Daropp was a town of wide spaces. The buildings were all low, single-story, some of them built half-into the ground. Broad avenues, expansive yards and lawns. I sprinted easily, all alone in this place. The roofs all cambered outwards at the edges, broad and flat on top. The windows were narrow with thick casements, the doors usually stood out from the main building, entry was through a mudroom cupola that jutted out from the body of the abode. Stone construction was covered by thatch and whitewash for insulation.

  I had read about this style: this area used to have a problem with raiders and pillagers that would ride in. The flat roofs were so that defenders had the high ground to shoot down on attackers. The windows denied entry, the doors were built out to create a narrow killzone if invaders breached the door. The thatch walls would burn off without cracking the stone beneath. It was very defensible, first and foremost. The wide open spaces were for barricades or militias to assemble and long sightlines for bows. Most towns would have invested in a high wall to keep attackers out, but the ground here was sandy and could only take low stone walls with a broad firm foundation. So rather than relying on a wall, and a keep, and a lord, and a cadre of knights to defend them, the town fathers of Daropp had built every home as a fortress against the world, with grudging mutual assistance against outside threats.

  And this was where Snairlin House had its headquarters. Read into that what you will.

  Oh, the Count had his palace a hundred miles away, a nice fancy place that had historical value, architectural interest, and was built to host and feast the other nobles of the region when they came to visit. The count's home, Yheta's home, was a showpiece, a public face, but it was not the true heart of House Snairlin. For that, you must follow me to the Merchant's square in Daropp.

  I am not trained in stealth. I don't know what I'm doing to sneak around at night. By now Nathan is surely good at it, but he's still years away from using those skills. I'm taking the initiative, like I promised. After all, I've got some wiggle room here. I don't know exactly what's going to happen next. My briefing on this part is just "trouble" and "dark days", with a reference to "attacks and sabotage". But there's no guarantee about any specific event. So, I can act against some of the troubles as long as I don't shut down all of the troubles. Anyway, that's why I'm not trapped by this part of the future. And now I'm trapped by my promise to Nathan. But I like that better.

  I conjure a silken cloak over myself, drably colored off-white but clearly of a striking and expensive material. I walked out of the alleyway and straight towards Snairlin's founding house, the base of their merchant empire. The true patriarch of the Snairlin clan was not the count on a throne, but Lewot Snairlin, the bald-topped uncle who counted the coins and made the plans. He controlled the money, and the family. He was the one who had put spies in my family's businesses.

  There were guards on the roof, with crossbows. I did a double-take, but relaxed. They were not terracotta, these were human guards. I did not push back my hood, but I gave them a casual wave as if I was expected. They watched me carefully. One wrong move... but this was a place of business. And an underhanded, secretive business at that. They were used to visitors in the dark who kept the hood of their cloaks up. The guards patrolling the roof would not be paid well enough to challenge a potentially important visitor, nobody tells their security staff everything after all. As long as I was expected, they would not shoot.

  I walked right up to the front door. They tensed. If they heard the wrong thing, or any sign at all that I'm not wanted here, they fire. I stepped right up to the front door, and under my cloak my hands sketched runes. I curved brass, and the door unlocked itself, swung open. I stepped inside. For those on the roof, it looked like someone was waiting for me and welcomed me in before I even had to knock. They relaxed. I pushed the door shut, and I absolutely did not relax.

  Without any lamps or lights, I walked about the place. Owl's hearing told me which doors had people behind them, and whether those people were awake or asleep. The empty rooms I opened and looked inside, one by one. Ten minutes in, I found the right one. The house was larger than it looked from outside, built deep away from the plaza square. Lots of rooms inside, and plenty of twists so that defenders and guards could mount a defense against invaders. The room I wanted had a desk in it and lots of ledgers, letters, logbooks and almost nothing else. Lewot did not allow any distractions from his lust for power and money.

  Silently I clambered up onto the seat at the desk, standing on top of its comfortable seat. The ring slipped off my finger and cupped in my palm, I positioned myself what I judged to be the optimal distance above the desk, and held the signet of the seer up to my eye, with the dozen eyes facing out, the lashes facing me. I held it there, blinked, and then took it away. I hopped down, silent as feathers, and reversed the ring to test it out.

  Perfect. Looking through this side, I had a top-down view of the desk, centered right in front of the chair. I could read anything on this desk. The ring went back on my finger, and I went back the way I came, relocking doors. He had his spies, now I had mine. Leveling the playing field.

  Then it was time to leave. I opened the void and stepped in. Glaring light blasted out into the house's interior for a second, and then I was gone.

  Only three weeks later, my snooping yielded dividends. Every couple of hours, whenever I had a hallway that nobody was watching, I'd check in to see what's on Lewot's desk. And that's how I got to see the time and place.

  I had three days to set aside my time. I spent hours thinking about the best way to get Lady Puckree to give me the afternoon off, and in the end I asked her. "Could I have Fourthday off to attend to a personal matter?"

  "You're already three weeks ahead of my lesson plans, take Summertide off for all I care," she said.

  Love her. So understanding.

  On Fourthday I stepped through the void and into Girke, and then I got my bearings and found the correct road. Through the void again, and then again, looking for the bend across the river bridge.

  The surroundings were nice enough for it. A pleasant day- in the direct sunlight the day was rather warm, but here among these loosely-gathered trees it was cooler, and breezy. Meadowtam did not keep a great amount of trees, but these were crooked softwoods, no good for construction or fenceposts. And their roots here by the river helped keep the banks from eroding and washing away good soil. The dimness and dampness brought a mossy scent to the air, and everything smelled amazingly green and vibrant, a very lush and living atmosphere here. Scattered sunlight fed the thin shrubs below, and where several of them tangled together, a hiding space where nine men may hide with five crossbows and several long knobby staves.

  Lewot's thieves were waiting by the bend in the road, looking for the caravan of father's spices. They were surprised when I stepped out of a hole in the air that glowed like a smaller, angrier sun. With one hand, I charged mana essence into myself, and with the other I crafted steel. I was going to try something utterly new here- to my best understanding, never attempted before in the world. After all, I may well be the first levin sorceress.

  Nine of them, and not well-equipped. Clearly planning on getting their target with surprise and ruthlessness, desperate men hired for their unwillingness to ask questions, who would take money to commit a crime. I did not perceive them as being violent, they did not have that depravity to their eyes. Just scared, and hungry.

  I did not have much of a grasp of levin energy, but it was more than anyone else in the world had. I did not have enough to throw lightning bolts or make electricity move about. But I could bring it within me and use its elements for myself, to a degree. And I moved with, pardon the pun, shocking speed.

  My right hand conjured up a steel baton, lightweight and well-balanced but hard and strong. It dragged at my hand as I sprinted forward. Everything went slow, then still, like trapped in molasses. The air was hard to push out of my way, and breathing came difficult. I leaned forward hard, and pushed with my feet, beating the air resistance as I charged forward. I had lightning inside of me, and lightning is fast.

  I was not moving nearly as fast as lightning. Not even by a thousandth, really. But I was moving a hell of a lot faster than anyone else here. Twenty-to-one or more, I'd estimate. When I moved my hair was pulling at my scalp, and it felt like my cheeks were being scraped across wool. I leaned steeply into the wind and thrust myself forward, legs pumping. I headed for the nearest bandit holding a crossbow, and I swung my baton like a baseball bat.

  Even though I could see myself moving with difficulty against the air and inertia, the momentum carried. The instant that the steel rod met the wooden frame, the crossbow started to break up. The tension on the string yanked the arms back, they snapped in a shower of splinters and started lashing backwards. I had seconds to watch the man's expression change in surprise, shock and impact rippling through his body. His mouth puffed out and a slow fleck of spittle hovered in the air.

  Oh, this was exciting. I don't have much affinity for lightning, but I could feel it in me. It wanted to move and strike, to travel fast and reach its target. Lightning knows that there is a place for it, the endless sink of the ground, where it can dissipate once its job is done. It yearns for that ending and release, and it will cut through anything to get there. I let that rush fill me as I sprinted for the next. My baton tucked under my arm this time, to cut down on wind resistance.

  I needed one of those wind-resistance suits that speed-skaters wear.

  The next target was to my left, and I pivoted to that side and leaned into the sprint. To my side, I could see a linear whirl of dust and fallen leaves, suspended in the air. They had been kicked up by my first charge, and they marked my trail. A tunnel of whipping wind that followed me around. Forget speed skaters. I needed some Lady Flash cosplay. I was laughing at my own joke when I swung at the next crossbow, cracking the steel down against the receiver. The break in the middle collapsed, the weapon folded in half.

  Three more crossbows. Lewot had sold these men a handful of crossbows, one for each finger, in exchange for stealing a shipment of dried spices and handing them over to Snairlin's people to be repackaged and sold. He would tell them the best place to strike, and they would deliver the goods. After that the crossbows were theirs to keep, and raid travelers and caravans traveling these lands. A real investment. For the bandits, they could escalate their threat from "or we'll beat you up with sticks" to "or we'll shoot you". With that, they could attack caravans that had armed guards, and steal some armor and swords for themselves, and attack bigger caravans after that. They could recruit others who are attracted to the wealth, and become a major threat to the region.

  To the Snairlin merchant house, this did not just mean several gold coins worth of merchandise acquired for the price of a few silver worth of crossbows. By spending a small smattering of keys, or silver coins, they could get giant kegs of cumin, rosemary, mustard and sage worth several coats, or gold coins. These they would sell not just at full price, but at inflated prices- their scheme to corner markets and jack up prices would be very profitable. But the problem with that plan was that while they had spent a ton of money buying up all the spice trade, my family had quietly stored away a surplus. And their efforts to make back all that money and more were hampered when we sold our products back into the market. Nobody would pay eighteen coats for a barrel when they heard that Jerry down the street bought his for three coats. So by taking our product to resell, they shored up their monopoly, which was a real force multiplier for them.

  And in addition, my family would need to start sending armed guards with their shipments, adding greatly to the cost- guards traveling with cargo that has been raided before are guards that get hazard pay. And if we don't send enough guards, these same bandits can attack again, and steal those armor and swords, making an even bigger and more expensive threat.

  There was a big problem with Lewot's plan. By fucking with my family, he was fucking with me.

  I tore through like a whirlwind, breaking every crossbow that Lewot had paid for, before I receded the lightning essence. The speed dropped, and with it the urgency of dread purpose. The dust and debris in the air swirled and began to settle, time started up again. And the screams too.

  One of the thieves was clutching a broken wrist, another was staggering back and holding his chest where a snapped bowstring had slashed across him, the released tension cut through this skin and flesh like butter. Blood was spurting. Two more were already falling over to the ground, one crumping forward over his stomach and the other lolling back in a slow lazy turn. I caught the tail end of an ominous whoosh sound, and a wind whipped around me from behind, as the momentum in the air was dragged up to me and caught up with me.

  I was panting- I had run for nearly two minutes through air like aspic, straining to breathe. But I still had my steel baton, and I had all nine of the men in front of me where I could see them. "If you run," I gasped out, "I won't pursue."

  Of course I was expecting them to break morale and run away, regroup to lick their wounds later. But, often times things don't happen in the convenient ways I expect them to. Three club-wielding men ran at me, and one threw his staff like a spear.

  I brought back the lightning. The world slowed down again. I pushed against the air to twist to the side, and get myself out of the way of the javelin-tossed staff. It was coming at me fairly quickly, moving maybe a quarter as fast as I was; but it moved through the air easily with a tiny profile, and I had to beat aside frozen wind just to move a foot to the side. I released the lightning's speed and tried to muster my breath, brandishing my steel club.

  Even though I had magic powers and a superior weapon, it's hard for a ten-year-old girl to intimidate three grown men. Especially when she's out of breath and visibly exhausted. And especially when they're used to working together for violent means. And especially when some of their friends and comrades are screaming in pain and terror. I had misjudged.

  The one in the middle was coming at me with a big overhead swing, which would either crush me or flush me to the side. His buddies were watching as they charged, ready to swing at me if I dodged in their direction. Why, oh why, couldn't these trees be denser? Thick woods would punish their longer weapons and favor my short billy-club!

  I reached for the levin again, but I changed tactics. I sped my thinking so that I could plan and measure and time this better, and I leaped straight forward at the man in the middle. I grasped my baton on either side, a strong blocking grip, and flung myself at his swing. My body was moving at normal speed, which felt so slow to my sped up mind, but I guided the slow-motion carefully to make sure this went perfectly. My feet left the ground. The wood hit steel, and the impact started to compress my arms. I released stored levin energy, and it flowed to the ground. Through my arms, through my club, through his staff, his arms, his torso and legs. The electricity cheered its freedom as it found its path into the earth, and the bandit crumpled. Shocked by the voltage pouring through him, he had no resistance to my flying body.

  One of my feet landed on his thigh above the knee and used that for balance and leverage, while my other knee came up in a close-in high kick, driving into his chin hard. His head lurched back, rotten teeth clacking together, and the breath knocked out of his lungs was foul as it puffed into my face. I turned my hips, and my kicking leg planted against his chest, and pushed off, hurling me through the air towards the bandit on my right. His eyes were still drawing wide, all of this was so fast, he had no time to process. He swung his staff at me, and I clacked down on it with my steel rod.

  Levin bolts jolted through him, and he stumbled down, catching himself on his hands in the loamy soil. I cracked an elbow against his head, and turned to the last of the thieves.

  Or rather, the back side of him. This one finally listened. He was running hard. I released all my charged essence, and tried to catch my breath, leaning forward, hands on my knees. If my diaphragm was spasming any harder I'd throw up. Covered in sweat, and that sweat was covered in dust, flecks of dirt, tiny chips of fallen leaves, sticks, spiderwebs, beetle shells, bark, shel- you know what, the more I think about what was adhering to me the worse it got. I'm not a dedicated city gal. I've spent plenty of time in rural settings, and I've even done some pretty hardcore low-gear camping trips. Enough to know how much nature I like and how much is too much, thank you.

  As my heartrate settled and the last enemy moved out of aggro range, my heads-up display slowly appeared in my view, fading in from nothing.

  [ You have earned 8 experience points. You have 12 experience points. You are now a Level 2 Sorceress. ]