Wine of the Gods 05: Spy Wars Read Online Free

filled in frequently. One of the serving girls ducked back into the kitchen, the other came out with their tea and sticky deserts.
    Another Oner stepped out the back door, and he felt the Oners' magical potential unite and clamp down on everyone in the area, a spell of somnolence, indifference, inattention . . . He fought to keep his mind clear . . . but he was so tired, and it didn't matter that Bran had pulled the sharp little knife from his boot and nicked his right arm. Oscar winced as Bran kicked him under the table, and was able to pick up the knife and prick his own wrist. They grasped wrists, blood to blood, and wrenched at the spell.
    Bran started muttering the basic Compass chants under his breath, and Oscar joined in shakily. Spells of clear mindedness countered some of the sensory and emotional blanket. Oscar reached, mentally pulled power from the heat of the air around them, and added that to the energy of their joined magic. Bran threw an Alertness spell and Oscar felt more of the dullness retreat. Eagle eye. The fog shifted, and he worked a mental shield under the remainder. Oscar leapt up, breaking the Compass, but clinging to the shield.
    There were only two Oners still in the main room. Oscar leapt at the one by the front door and drove his fist into his stomach, then both hands together down on his neck. The second man tossed a spell, and Oscar diverted it easily. As the Oner rushed past, Bran stuck his foot out, then threw a stun spell.
    A third and fourth Oner rushed in the back door, and Oscar and Bran hoofed it out the front. They turned right and ran straight into a pair of the strangers. The first one was still trying to fasten his pants. Bran kicked his crotch and drove a fist against the back of his head to assist his encounter with the road dirt. The second Oner backpedaled and threw spells. Two to one it was no contest. Then the leader sprinted from the far side and the three others burst out of the restaurant's front door to change the odds rather nastily. Oscar tossed fireballs and Bran tried slices alternating with stun as they both retreated. The air was getting deathly cold, robbed of energy to feed their magic. They turned and ran. There was a point where the kinetic energy of air was exhausted, and they were experienced enough to move before that happened. So close to the Equator, there was little seasonality, and the air was warming within a few strides.
    Their link was still close enough for Bran to drop his physical shield, trusting Oscar to handle that and he stiffened the mental shield, and tried trip and spin on the Oners.
    Spin caught for just a moment. Oscar got a fear spell through, and then they were around another corner and sprinting. The late evening crowd at the market was thick enough to get lost in, and they both swapped accessories and closed down their mental shields until they gave a very close approximation of the mental feel of a normal person.
    With a quick change of headgear, Bran stopped to admire a horse. Oscar stopped a few stalls further on to haggle for some oranges. He spotted three of the men scanning the crowd. Bran shook his head and strolled away. Even odds whether the missing men were guarding their fallen comrades, or reporting back to higher authorities at top speed. He strolled past Oscar and turned for the harbor. Oscar sighed, and admitted that Bran was right. There was a point when it was time to leave, and this was it. They'd rented a room, always paying a week ahead, and were on good enough terms with the maids to have arranged to stash their stuff in between trips. So there was even a chance their extra clothing would be put away for their next trip, when the maids realized they weren't coming back.
    They needed to report home anyway, and tonight they'd bitten off a bit more than they'd planned on. The eight men had been well trained and reacted quickly to being attacked. Best give the Oners nothing to find for awhile, then return and take up