On the Run (Wine of the Gods Book 28) Read online

  On the Run

  Pam Uphoff

  Fleeing from a lost battle, the Black Island Gang is scattered among several worlds . . .

  Cover credits

  Cover Design P.A. McWhorter

  Bellevue | Dreamstime.com—Swiss chalet in winter

  Full Moon courtesy of NASA Images

  Copyright © 2016 Pamela Uphoff

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN

  978-1-939746-26-9

  This is a work of fiction.

  All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional.

  Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Castles of Air

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Sun Never Set On the British Empire

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Utopia

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The Lodge in the Mountains

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Excerpt from an upcoming book

  Chapter One

  What I'm Reading . . .

  About the Author

  Other Books by Pam Uphoff

  Castles of Air

  Pam Uphoff

  Chapter One

  1 October 1999

  They had fled at sunset. Fled a battle they had lost.

  Can you even call it a battle when we cut and ran in terror at the first sight of the Dimension cops?

  Rior glanced at the goat. Eldon covered the retreat of the women and children. He held shields even while the spells were morphing his body. He always was the strongest of the mages. And as a reward for his heroics, he's been turned into a goat. Poor stupid sot.

  On this world it was six in the morning. Rior glance around for a quick head count. One other man, four young women. And a large black goat. They'd run out of nowhere onto a suburban lawn. They ignored the locals, turning and staring. The goat had people pointing as well.

  It was just a couple of blocks to the corridor they'd made, leading down to the larger city of Houston. Rior had thought that they'd be more able to get lost in a large city, thought they could blend in, hide their illicit income behind the façade of an empty business.

  Now we'll find out how good at tracking us they are, won't we?

  The corridor's Houston end was attached to the side of a store; some men unloading a van gave them an odd look when they walked out of a wall.

  "Falchion? Can you collapse that corridor so we can't be followed?" Rior frowned down at the goat. "Eldon, did you mail the contract for the office?"

  "Mahahaha!" The goat nodded.

  "Heso and I have identification from here." And so does Eldon . . . which he can use if we figure out how to reverse that goat spell.

  The row of small stores and offices was just down the street and they were all used to walking. Although Eldon was probably at a disadvantage, learning to coordinate four legs. There was some subtle nuance of traffic flow or appearance or something that had left this strip half empty. Well, no doubt the age of the buildings had something to do with it. With new construction all around, they'd rented this space for half what the neighboring building would have charged. His name garnered instant recognition at the office, and identity card inspected, the keys were produced and the rented space inspected. Rior nodded in satisfaction and handed over a plastic chip. It wasn't a cash card, but it was darn close. He took the keys and walked back to their new place. I'm glad we have a place to stop. To collapse and catch our breaths. Think.

  "We'll run some sort of business out of here to make money for the short term," he told Jade. "Or perhaps as cover for our gambling winnings."

  The witches spread out and approved of the empty spaces. "I think we need to collapse all the corridors, and make no new ones for a few months. Lay low while we figure out what to do, long term." Jade stopped pacing to frown at the goat. "Rior, you've been experimenting with transformation spells. Can you change him back? Soon? He smells."

  Epee looked over at the goat and snickered. "It's perfect for Eldon."

  Rior looked Eldon over magically and realized his expertise was insufficient. "I can't change his digestive system back. One! They did a real job on you, and so fast! I'll start studying the spell residues, but better we take our time and not really mess you up." He looked over at the younger witches. Epee and Falchion were obviously pregnant. And they probably all had the little bubbles of the baby storage cradles.

  Who knows which ones? He grit his teeth and asked. Which started a sudden count of bubbles.

  Fifteen. They'd brought fifteen babies with them. "Better leave them closed, we don't have diapers or anything else."

  Betelgeuse glared. "I need to nurse. I'm sore." She opened and closed eight bubbles before she found her own baby. Her incipient panic subsided when she found the right infant. Who wasn't hungry, but was wet and cranky.

  Rior swallowed a curse and walked out, headed for the nearest store. They needed money, diapers, transportation, an actual house—with a yard for the goat. He noticed all the types of stores along this stretch. Liquor, dry cleaners, nails, Chinese restaurant, hair stylists. Next strip, real estate office, beauty salon with tanning bed and 'french nails', dry cleaners, hamburgers. Across the street, tattoos, permanent make up, nails, dry cleaners and a liquor store. Next strip, Mexican restaurant, insurance, computer repair, laser hair removal and nails. And finally the corner store where he bought diapers and some sandwiches, a jug of milk.

  He returned with a good idea.

  Armed with all those spell potions he'd unravelled, two magicians and four witches ought to be able to change hair color permanently, ditto makeup, tans, hair removal and nails. What did these people do to their nails, anyway? A bit of observational research to learn the local styles and they could open for business.

  Chapter Two

  5 October
1999

  "Those new folk are very strange."

  Holly ignored her sister. "I've mailed all the September bills. Why don't you go through the mail and see who's paid us for last month so I can get the late notices out?"

  Julia persisted. "They have a goat for heaven's sake. A big black nasty male one. It stinks."

  "You shouldn't have tried to pet it."

  "Oh, you saw it?"

  "No, I just know you. What is their business?"

  "Another hair and nail place. Can you imagine? Betty said they had a laser that worked to stimulate the scalp to reverse baldness and graying, as well as the usual unwanted hair removal, and that they could do long term makeup and tans."

  "Sounds like a scam. I hope none of that involves the goat." Holly grabbed the mail packet and started sorting. "Junk, junk, bill, payment, payment, bill, junk, payment. Hey, more money in than out."

  "Depends on the amounts, doesn't it?" Julia opened an envelope. Frowned.

  "Picky picky." Holly opened the first payment and found the right account on her computer.

  "Why is the park billing us? We only provided the tables, and disposable items, and the inflated castle. The Henderson's should be getting billed."

  "Stick it in an envelope and mail it to them." Holly entered the payment and opened the next. A baby started crying, faint but unmistakable through the wall. "Goodness, are they going to be bringing their children to work?"

  Julia shrugged. "Most likely just until they have customers. That could get really annoying, you know? Now the baby's quiet and the adults are yelling." She stepped into their little cubbyhole coffee room and came back with a glass that she applied to the wall.

  "Julia! You are so embarrassing!"

  "Shh!" her eyebrows crimped. "She's crying and some man is ranting about women and babies everywhere, and they should . . . " her nose wrinkled. "How do you bubble a baby? Oh, wait, now one of the women is talking about putting her back."

  "Back where?" Holly gawped at her, but by the time she'd gotten her own glass the yelling was over. All she heard were comments about hair color and nails.

  Julia was frowning uneasily at the wall. "I didn't like that part about the babies. We need to find out more about these people."

  Holly shook her head. "It's none of our business. You probably didn't hear right through the wall, and if you did they're dangerous. So just behave."

  But she paid enough attention that she recognized the woman with the long straight midnight black hair walking with the pregnant woman with the long straight pale blonde hair at the Mall. She slowed down and followed them from a distance. The women seemed to be people watching. They stopped and chatted several times, each time with much attention and apparently admiration, for fingernail work or tattoos.

  Embarrassed to find herself spying, Holly took herself off to the food court for a gyros and spotted the other two women. They had quite an array of children, from about five years old to infants. Four blondes and two redheads, and when the teenager lifted a baby from the double stroller, she saw what looked like more blonde hair on a baby that couldn't be more than a month old. The other woman—she looked like she was in her early twenties—had a spectacular crop of red hair herself, and was obviously pregnant. The teenager was a brunette, with highlights. How did two women so young come by eight children? Or did some of them belong to the other two women? There weren't any black, or even dark haired kids, but two very pale blondes who could easily belong to Miss Long Blonde Hair.

  Not that it was any of her business, and she wasn't spying on them. She removed herself from temptation quickly.

  The weekend was busy, with five parties to set up and take down, three with the inflated castles for children to jump around in. She slept in Monday and pulled into the parking lot late.

  Chapter Three

  15 October 1999

  Elderberry—it was Holly's nick name for him, not the man's real name which she could never remember—was staring slack jawed at a large black goat munching the flowers outside the office. She eyed it, and decided it was time to meet the neighbors.

  She walked over and knocked, then tried their door. It was unlocked. "Hello? Anyone home? Your goat has escaped."

  That last got a response.

  "One!" A couple of furniture type thumps preceded a man into the front.

  You will meet a tall dark handsome stranger.

  "Excuse me." He stepped around her and glared at the goat. "Eldon, get back in here. Haven't you got any sense at all?"

  "He's a goat, now." The teenage girl walked out yawning. "And he wasn't very sensible before . . . Oh! Hi! Umm, I'm Betelgeuse, how do you do?"

  "Holly Matlock. I own the Castles of Air party rentals company next door to you." Holly turned and stared as the big goat trotted in the door and headed back to the warehouse part of the 'flex space' as the manager liked to call it. "Gosh, he follows orders pretty good."

  "For once in his life." Another tall dark man, not as handsome as the first. But he smiled charmingly. "Heso Amoson."

  Holly blinked. That was a name? "Heso?"

  "Err, Henry Stephen Amoson. H. S. So I got nicknamed Heso."

  The handsome one sighed. "I'm Brian Whithy. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Matlock. I believe we met your sister last week."

  "Yes. She mentioned the goat. Well, I've got to get to work. Nice to have met you all." Holly dodged out before she started drooling over either man, and fished for her keys.

  Elderberry had edged closer, ignoring her as he attempted to look in the door. "The goat's in the back," she told him as she gave him a wide berth. Maybe I should have told him that yes, there really had been a goat. He probably figured he was hallucinating.

  Everything had been put away in haste as they rushed from job to job. Today she needed to check the tables, although the biggest batch, at the last party, she and Julia had sprayed and wiped ahead of the guys folding and hauling them away. They had two flat trailers to haul the castles around on, and three enclosed trailers for the tables and chairs. As usual, the last two castles back were still on the trailers in the warehouse, along with the three trailers of tables and chairs. They just barely fit. Holly sighed. They were at the stage of needing larger quarters, and more workers if they were going to expand. Did she want to expand? Did she want to spend her life renting tables, chairs, and bouncy castles?

  She ran up the back doors, and went to fetch the Explorer. She'd pull the trailers out, and unload the two with dirty tables and chairs . . . There was no hurry, no need to call any of the guys.

  Halfway through the morning, the garage door next to her's rattled up and the goat came out to comment on her enterprise before wandering off to remove the weeds that sprouted in every crack of the pavement. Miss Long Pale Hair came out with a pack of children. "They're driving me crazy," she said, wandering over to peek inside the trailer.

  "They aren't all yours, are they?" Holly asked, looking around, yep all six ambulatory kids.

  "Old Gods no! Only one, but soon two. I've got my brother's two while he's working overseas." She looked around as the redhead walked out. "And you can probably guess which ones are Chi's, can't you? Oh, my manners. I'm Eppie and this is Falchion—Chi for short."

  "Holly. My sister Julia and I rent out stuff for parties."

  "Ah, we're still unpacking equipment and getting permits and such. We specialize in skin, hair and nail treatments. Or at any rate we will, real soon." Chi galloped off to grab the five-year-olds and turn them around. She didn't look to be due for several more months.

  "Gosh, are those three old enough to put in school? Or are you going to have to pay for child care for all of them?"

  "Umm, we've just moved here and haven't actually looked into that yet." Eppie shook her head. "This all came up amazingly fast. I need to catch my breath and take care of all that."

  "I think the cut-off age for kindergarten is five years old by September first. My mom is a school teacher, second grade at Ironwood."


  "I bow to your expertise. Maybe Brian, Chi and I should gang up on the poor innocent school."

  "You might want to check into what records they'll need. Shots and birth certificates, I suppose. Maybe Social Security numbers."

  "Ugg. That stuff isn't unpacked yet. But I suppose we'd better find it all."

  Holly nodded sympathetically. Every parent she knew spent half her time running around trying to find proof of vaccinations and this or that required piece of paper, some of which probably never existed until some school official declared it necessary. "Why don't I go check the website for you? I know their system—my mom makes me do all her online things."

  "Oh, that'd be great. Roddie!" She bolted after a pale blonde head trotting determinedly away.

  Holly printed out three copies of all the district requirements and applications, ten pages each, good grief!

  "I'm never going to have children," she told Julia, as she walked in. "Too much work. Now come help me load up the tables."

  A week later she spotted Betelgeuse at the sandwich shop and waved.

  "Hi Holly. Hey, we really needed that info you gave us. And don't believe a word Chi says if she starts saying she had to hypnotize half the social security office to get them to cough up a card for Lance."

  "Aren't bureaucracies a pain? So all three are in kindergarten, then?"

  "Yep, just the three three-year-olds and the babies to worry about now." She frowned a bit, shrugged. "Babies. Brian calls them insanity and I agree."

  "Err, umm, which of you are married to who?" Holly felt her face warm in embarrassment.

  "Umm, none of us, actually. We worked in two shops, hair and nails, and men's hair treatments, that were in a strip center that got torn down for a Mega Mart. Business was pretty lousy in Lincoln anyway, so we decided to pool our funds and move to a larger city. Start our own business."

  "Nice being able to trade off babysitting, too."