The Crystal Vaccine rang in a single two-tone. Ding-ting!

I jumped, because I knew what those two notes heralded. I looked around, making sure no one was nearby.

We need to talk.

I looked at the very emphatic display on the Vaccine, sighed, and pushed Reply.

I was just working on beer. Vier could hold the phone while I mixed and moved the brew. At least she was nice enough to call at night, not during the day when I was working as Dynamo.

“Good evening, oh ruler of half the world!” I said when I heard the other end picked up.

“You’re either fearless or an idiot,” was the immediate reply.

“The first is generally also assumed to be the second,” I had to agree. “I’m in the middle of making beer for Mr. Hill, actually. Alchemy, personal touch required, blah blah blah. Hopefully this is not an immediate dispatch, or I just lost about twenty grand in raw materials.”

“Alchemical beer for The Mountain. Huh. That’s why he puts up with you.”

“Well, the chips, cupcakes, pretzels, pickled vegetables, condiments, cigars, jawbreakers, and other random stuff are the other half of that, so sure,” I replied cheerfully. “Earth-type avatars have unique appetites, as it were.”

“There aren’t many of them around, but I bet they’d pay good money for eats and drinks,” Sama Rantha agreed calmly. “Expert alchemist, got it. I’m more interested in your other capabilities. The showing you do in your games indicates excellent foresight, and your Divinatory Wards are impressive. The Mountain indicated you’ve a very wide array of attack, defense, and support skills on the magic side of things.”

“Well, there’s a secret that goes with all this extreme competency of mine.”

“I’m listening.”

“I am an Underweb Caster, oh most Golden of Hags.”

There was a thoughtful pause at the mention of that, probably as she cycled through an excessive amount of literature. “Okay, the only mention I’ve seen of Underweb Casting is either quick self-destruction, or someone who mastered something hideously powerful and got themselves ganked when they tried to use it to claim great power.”

“Yeah, them Dragon-types luck into one little mantra that lets them draw on the Underweb, and they think they are planet-conquering top nimble fingers. Alas, being able to send a force bolt through a mountain doesn’t make your will impervious to mental assaults or your personal shields better, and down they tend to go to the desperate throngs beating on them.”

“And you’re not worried about desperate throngs beating on you?” she asked archly.

“Well, the number of people who know this are you, Dynamo, and me, and I’ve never drawn on the Underweb for anything more than ambient magic to replace that which I can’t draw off generally. I just deal Cards!” I answered with a smile at no one.

“So, the Cards are just a distraction and possible supplement, they are not required?” she clarified.

“Correct. Although I can work a LOT of supplements into them. They make rather instant scriptable material, formation nexi, scrolls, and fake Implements, among other things, and a very convenient akashic interpretation for the magic to pass through. A lot of people believe in luck and magic in the Cards, after all.”

“So they do. I need to know the level of stuff you can handle,” she pressed. “I’m not going to throw you into situations you cannot handle if I can help it, and if I can’t, you’ll know it.”

“Well, that is appreciated. I’m bound to the Underweb, so I’m a servant of Fate, much as I might wish otherwise. I keep an Astral Bar at VII up at all times. My specialty, such as it is, would be single-target combat against magical entities I know something about and have some time to prepare for. Notably, I am incredibly deadly against purveyors of Sin, Undead, and energy-wielding combatants of any stripe.”

“How would you rate yourself against Strange?” She obviously knew I lived across the road from him.

“He is capable of defying much more powerful entities and wielding magic on larger scales, because his power doesn’t come from within, it is granted by those he calls upon. If I tap the direct power of the Underweb, I could potentially do the same, but I am very loathe to do so for the attention it would bring.

“Based on what I would willingly do, I could still beat him in a direct duel, as I could bring his defensive spells down faster than he could erect them, Interdict all of his reality manipulation and dimensional fun, Stillflight him to the ground, and then either pound him flat or Spellflare him and his shields to nothing.

“Like Dynamo, I am an Argent Savant and a master of force effects. Force fields of any stripe simply aren’t going to last against me. They are like conjuring a grenade to hit yourself with.”

“So, Strange could save the world from a manifestation of a demon god drowning the world in eldritch fear, but you could pound him dead in a direct fight?”

“That’s about the size of it. Much of Vishanti dueling magic is based on reality manipulation. Shut it down and they are suddenly quite vulnerable. They also care more about the quantity of magic they can put out than the quality of the magic. I run the other way, so I can take down their big, showy spells by unraveling the magic at the base of them.”

“Have you encountered any prominent sorcerers to verify this?” Sama prodded me.

“Hmm. Baron Mordo? He attended one of my games in Monaco, thinking he could easily overcome my paltry skills. I understand that he coughed up half a pint of blood in the men’s bathroom after he ran out of money from his amateurish betting after his luck manipulation totally failed him. I dispersed the effect across a hundred thousand other decks of cards, and he didn’t catch on until he was out of money. His grand effort was the equivalent of getting one card per hand raised one number. He couldn’t calculate his way out of a paper bag, and dropped a hundred grand.”

“He didn’t attempt to take revenge for the slight?” Sama was a bit surprised.

“It turned out that Mr. Hill knows him, and the bastard has a reputation for sacrificing women to demons. Mr. Hill put him under a high-grav-Interdiction, broke both his collarbones for fucking with the Luck, and mentioned that the bastard had better hope nobody ever puts a bounty on him for the things he’s done, or he’s going to collect it.”

“Nobody with any sense would offer such a thing themselves, but through third parties... Mmm, I’ll float a word out there. I think I may be able to get The Mountain a job. Would you help?” Sama inquired absently.

“I think that would easily be in the Cards,” I grinned back, and she snorted. “If I may ask, the Baron is a heartlessly immoral butcher and necromancer dealing with entities of the vilest sort for personal power. Why don’t you take thirty seconds and remove him from the equation?”

“Because he’s on the List, and he’s delivered. As a result, he’s also become aware of what it means to be a target of the List, and he’s managed to steer scrupulously away from that fate. He has one chance to sell out the world, and then he’s dead. Doing his job means I won’t move against him personally. It doesn’t mean that others won’t kill him.”

“And then I’d have to pick up his portion of the work...” I almost slapped my head in realization.

“Perform well!” she congratulated me, and hung up. I looked at the phone, totally aware she’d manipulated me right along the way into dealing with Mordo for her if needed.

Well, whatever. Mr. Hill would be happy to collect on him.