Never trust an elf

The voice was Mr. Johnson's. The elf had turned up without Kham hearing him approach. From the surprised reactions of the other runners, no one else had heard him either. Kham noticed that one of the razor-guys was tapping his ear as if to check its function, but Neko was already looking in the direction of Johnson's approach. The kid had seen Johnson, or heard him, or known he'd be there, and he had said nothing.

Annoyed, he growled at Johnson. "So what's da deal?"

"All in good time, Kham. Gentlemen, and ladies, my role in directing this affair is nearly complete. I will leave any further instructions to the principals for this run."

With that remark, two tall, thin figures emerged from the growing gloom. They stood silhouetted against a pale rockface, but Kham could have sworn they hadn't been there a moment before. From the height and build of the newcomers they were elves like their Mr. Johnson, but that was the only clue to their identity. Also like Johnson, they wore nondescript camouflage coveralls but, unlike Johnson, they had no recognizable features. Above the upturned collars, there were no faces, only shimmering ovoids of flickering colors, a magical disguise to conceal their identities. One or both of them would be the promised magical support.

Kham had been around enough magic to know that they could easily have disguised themselves totally, looked like anyone they'd wanted. Hadn't Sally arranged numerous magical disguises for Kham on their runs together? He also knew that such magic took effort and concentration. No magician had an inexhaustible supply of either, so they often skimped. He remembered Sally saying that a partial disguise or a false face based on a person's real one was less taxing, a good choice when there might be other needs for her magic. With their nothing faces, these elves were totally unrecognizable. If holding the blanks was easier than maintaining a made-up collection of features, the magician might be hoarding his power the way Sally did.

The disguises had two implications. The first was simple: somewhere these two elves were important people, and their faces were well-known. At the very least, one of the runners might recognize one or both of them. The second was more disquieting: the magician who cast the disguise spell was concerned about conserving power while protecting the identity of these important people. If that magician was here for the run, the magic man seemed to be expecting to need all his juice, suggesting that the runners might be facing a serious magical threat. And if the magician wasn't here, that meant no magical support, which was its own problem.

On the other hand, the principals-if that's who these two elves really were-were risking their own butts on this one, so maybe things might not get too hot.

Only one thing was very clear: whatever was going down was pretty fraggin' important to these two.

Neko was only slightly surprised that they traveled toward their destination without incident, suspecting that they were traveling under magical protection. Mr. 'Johnson's vehicle had arrived cloaked in a silence spell, and the other two elves had appeared with what could only have been magical aid. Because the two elves who were apparently Mr. Johnson's principals were magicians of some power-or so their assured stances would have onlookers believe-it was unlikely that they would take chances with their persons. The magicians would be using their magic to conceal the tiny caravan and ward it from arcane threats. They had also shown concern for mundane threats by their selection of runners for this still mysterious task, but nothing had yet materialized to justify such precautions.

Neko had chosen to ride with the orks, a ploy that gained him some measure of respect from the orks at the cost of disdain from the other runners. His choice had possibly alienated him from the other runners, but the importance of the change to the group dynamic would only be revealed with time. Accordingly, he dismissed such concerns from his mind and turned his attention to studying the countryside.

The forest was fascinating and frightening all at once. Despite Neko's training in less urbanized areas, he was a child of the city. To the despair of his teachers, he had always felt most at home surrounded by