Magic Rising (Hand Of Justice Book 3)

by Jace Mitchell

  Magic Rising

  Hand Of Justice™ Book Three

  Jace Mitchell

  Michael Anderle

  Magic Rising (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2018 Jace Mitchell & Michael Anderle

  Cover by Mihaela Voicu http://www.mihaelavoicu.com/

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, December 2018

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Author Notes - Jace Mitchell

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Other Age of Magic Books

  Books by Michael Anderle

  The Magic Rising Team

  Thanks to our Beta Readers

  Larry Omans

  Mary Morris

  Chrisa Changala

  Rachel

  Thanks to our JIT Readers

  Angel LaVey

  Micky Cocker

  Larry Omans

  Diane L. Smith

  Editor

  SkyHunter Editing Team

  Dedication

  To my best friend, Tucker.

  --Jace

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  to Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  to Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  — Michael

  Chapter One

  William stared at Rendal.

  The dark mage stood on a platform, a smile growing on his face. “Here is one of the spies!” he shouted into the crowd.

  William was surrounded by hundreds of Sidnie’s residents, all of them having come to see New Perth’s “traitor.”

  Kris stood to Rendal’s left, now grinning from ear to ear. She’d just been accused of being a spy, and moments before must have surely thought all was lost—until William threw off his cloak, screaming he was going to kick Rendal’s ass.

  The crowd gaped at the giant man. William removed his broadsword from his back, creating room for himself as he did. No one wanted to be in front of that weapon when he swung it.

  “Rendal the Dickless!” he shouted with a devilish grin. “I think that’s your new name! Let the girl go, and I won’t come up there and remove whatever little manhood you have. Understand?”

  The mage stepped forward, showing no concern at all for the girl. “I thought you might be the one to show up. All brawn, no brains.” Rendal looked out over the crowd. “This is only one of the spies, but there are probably more among us right now. Don’t be afraid, Sidnians. We are stronger than this one man, or a thousand like him!”

  “Rendal, you couldn’t lift my dick with both hands, let alone take me down. Let the damn girl go and let’s stop with the shenanigans.” William pushed forward, the crowd parting before him like waves before a ship. He made his way closer to the stage, his senses on high alert.

  Brighten should be behind the platform now, and that was what William needed more than anything else. He hadn’t told the boy what to do, but that was okay. Brighten wasn’t an idiot and would figure it out easily enough.

  “Harold,” the mage called. “Come on out here, will you?”

  William knew Harold just fine—the mage’s fucking lackey.

  Rendal’s guard walked out from behind the stage, sword in his right hand.

  William didn’t stop pressing forward. People stared up at him with a mixture of awe and hatred on their faces. They believed the mage; he was a spy, the same as Kris up on the platform.

  William stopped twenty feet from the platform. “Any of you don’t want to be hurt, get outta the way now!” he commanded the crowd in front of him.

  They scattered like roaches under bright light.

  “Harold?” The mage spoke softly, his grin wide. “You said you can take this man, right?”

  “I sure did, sir,” Harold answered.

  “Here’s your chance.” Rendal took a few steps back. “Don’t kill him, though. Wound him if you must, but I want to keep him around for a little while. You know, for Riley’s sake.” He smirked at William.

  “You’re just lucky Riley ain’t here, prick. She would have already handed you your balls.” William looked at Harold. “And now you’re sending your lackey after me? This is going to be too easy.”

  William’s eyes blazed red and fire swooshed from his hand to his sword, lighting it.

  The crowd around him moved even farther back. Even if they understood magic, they still wanted no part of this giant.

  Harold stayed on the platform. Raising a hand, he waved William forward. “Come, big man. I’ve had enough of your mouth for a lifetime.”

  “I guess that’s good, because I’m going to keep talkin’ long after you’re dead.” William scanned the platform quickly, understanding the known dangers at least. There was Harold, of course, and Rendal would attack; William had no doubt about that.

  And then there was the girl to remember. She couldn’t be hurt. Kris was the reason for the whole confrontation.

  Act fast, Brighten, William urged silently. He was under no illusions as to the danger ahead.

  He let the fire spread up his arm, then over his sweeping shoulders, and finally down his left arm.

  William ran forward, picking up speed with each step. Rendal retreated, and Harold stepped a little to the side. William knew the strategy the guard would take.

  The Right Hand leapt into the air, easily clearing the platform’s height.

  Harold swung his sword just before William touched down, but the Right Hand’s steel met it.

  Flames raced up Harold’s sword, trying desperately to make their way to his arm.

  William thrust his shoulder forward, the flames there touching the guard as well; he shoved hard, using all his strength to send Harold flying.

  Harold wasn’t weak or dumb, though. He skirted to the right, flames dancing up his armor but not yet touching his vulnerable skin.

  Harold brought his sword up in a weak parry, but William dashed it away. He looked at his left, extending his arm and sending a swirl of fire rolling off his fingers. The flames hit the wooden platform, spreading eagerly across the dry wood.

  He just managed to bring his sword up in time to block Harold’s blow.

  Clang!

  Harold’s sword was lighter and faster and came at William again from the opposite direction. William barely got his heavier sword there in time, but he brought his forearm up after shoving it onto his own blade and pushing against Harold’s.

  Blood spurted from his arm, but he bore down harder.

  The
two stared at each other, William’s fiery sword slowly moving closer to Harold’s face.

  William felt heat behind him, his earlier flames trying to engulf everything.

  “AGHH!” William shouted, shoving with all his might.

  Harold rose off the ground, unable to withstand the Right Hand’s strength. He slammed the wooden platform, sliding backward.

  William felt it then; the change in the air.

  He ducked as a scorching ball of fire flew over his head. It slammed into the platform mere feet from him, scattering flames every which way. He turned, still crouching, and saw Rendal’s bright red eyes. The crowd was fleeing, screams filling the sky.

  The flames had grown swiftly, moving off the platform now to the ground.

  Come on boy. Come the fuck on! William thought.

  He stood as Rendal walked closer. Flames danced to the mage’s left and right, and they were circling William now, too.

  “Did you think you’d actually be able to use magic against me?” Rendal asked.

  William saw the boy dashing across the stage then, the mage’s back to him. He didn’t let his eyes venture away from Rendal’s face.

  “All this power and you’re still a damned moron,” William retorted with a grin.

  “Drop the sword and we can do this the easy way.”

  “I wasn’t ever too good at the easy way, Rendal. I’m more of a hard way type of guy.” William moved his sword into a defensive position. Sweat dripped from his brow, the heat growing more oppressive with each second.

  “So be it,” the mage answered.

  “Hey!” Harold shouted from behind.

  William wasted no time. He simply turned, flinging fire from his hands toward Harold. He knew what the guard was yelling at: Brighten and Kris hurtling across the platform.

  The flames burst across Harold’s chest, sending him backward again.

  William whipped around toward the mage, swinging his sword where he thought the man would be.

  He missed completely, spinning himself as he did.

  Good, he thought, catching a glimpse of the two kids. They were off the platform and running now—fleeing for their lives.

  “That wasn’t smart, Right Hand,” the mage chastised with a wide grin.

  The smell of smoke filled William’s nose and his eyes watered. If he didn’t get off this pyre soon, he’d burn with it.

  “You just traded yourself for two street kids.” The mage shook his head in disbelief. “A strategically poor move to say the least.”

  “I think I’ll strategically shove this fuckin’ sword up your ass,” William growled. He charged, ignoring the flames and smoke, hoping to create enough space for him to escape as well.

  He swung, but the mage easily dodged the blade. When William brought it down in a sweeping blow, Rendal spun to the right and shoved his hand forward.

  A blast of air smashed into William’s back, sending him sprawling off the platform.

  He slammed into the ground below chest-first, sliding across the dirt and grass.

  William rolled over on his back and watched the mage float down from the burning platform. Harold was already gone, having scampered away from the flames.

  William got to a knee, then looked up at the mage. “Kill me, and let’s be done with this, old man.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Rendal asked.

  William looked down at the dirt in front of him. He knew Riley would have been able to get out of this. She’d simply explode and burn this whole area to nothing. He couldn’t do that, though.

  He wasn’t strong enough.

  The mage was a few feet from William, flames billowing behind him.

  I’ll miss you, friend, he thought, meaning it.

  William didn’t glance up; he didn’t need to. He reared his sword back and flung it with every ounce of strength he could muster.

  It flew straight at the mage and William stood, bringing his hands forward. Fire blasted from his fingertips, following the soaring blade.

  The mage’s eyes were wide, shock on his face. He moved slightly to his right, but the blade caught his side all the same, slicing through his skin.

  “AGH!” he shouted, and then the flames were on him.

  A blue shield rose from the mage’s body, encircling him and somehow keeping the flames from eating him alive.

  William didn’t give a damn what it was or how it worked. He knew this was his only chance. He had to bolt.

  The Right Hand turned and fled, rushing across the empty expanse.

  Go, Right Hand. The mage’s voice filled William’s head. Rendal was laughing as he spoke. We’ll meet again. I promise. I’ll tell Mason you said hello.

  Rendal watched William run away.

  It was an odd sight, someone so huge fleeing someone so thin.

  The flames that had hit Rendal were dying away, and for the second time in short weeks, Rendal had a flesh wound.

  He looked down at himself: his right side sported a nice-sized gash and blood was leaking down his leg.

  “Fuck!” he shouted.

  Harold walked out from behind the flaming platform. “Do you want me to send people after him, sir?”

  Rendal turned around slowly, unable to move any faster. Harold had been burnt and had a raw patch across his face. His left arm was badly singed.

  “Send people after him?” the mage asked. “Who? Belarus? Maybe some of the fucking guards who serve the Prefect?”

  Rendal’s eyes turned red. Harold swallowed but didn’t move.

  “Thought you could handle him?” Rendal spat. “Thought he wouldn’t be a problem for big bad Harold?”

  “I hadn’t expected him to have that much magic. It’s grown stronger,” Harold whispered.

  “’Grown stronger,’” Rendal mocked. “You know what hasn’t grown stronger? You, you fucking idiot. No. Don’t go after him. He’ll just kill you and everyone with you.”

  Rendal heard the thought in Harold’s head.

  “Careful,” he instructed. “I’d be really careful right now if I were you, Harold.”

  The thought had been a simple one: You didn’t fare too well either, sir.

  And what could Rendal say? He was standing here with his side bleeding and the Right Hand having escaped.

  Rendal looked at the emptied streets.

  Harold walked up behind the mage. “I’m sorry, sir. I failed you.”

  “You’ll get another chance, and Artino is working on some devices that will help,” the mage told his second-in-command. “This wasn’t a failure. Much of the kingdom saw what happened. If anything, an escaped spy will bind them to us stronger, which is what we want.”

  He looked at Harold.

  “Everything serves my purpose, even this gash right here. In fact, I think it’d be a good idea to get medical attention, then I’ll go see the kingdom’s Royal Guard, right before the Prefect’s advisors.”

  Rendal smiled.

  “Yes, everything serves my purposes.”

  Brighten and Kris rushed through the kingdom’s streets. They both knew where they were heading—out to the edge of Sidnie, to Shantyville.

  Neither spoke. They ran in silence, Brighten completely terrified. The streets were largely empty; word had spread that the kingdom was under attack. Spies were here, and war had just broken out in the fucking pavilion.

  All of it lies, but what could Brighten do? Nothing but keep up with Kris, who was moving like greased lightning.

  It took them ten minutes at full speed to reach the small shack.

  Kris burst through the door. “Get packed. Right now. Whatever the fuck you have, get it packed. We’ve got to go.”

  Lucie stepped out from the back. She was cooking again; Brighten smelled it, but he couldn’t care less about eating right now.

  “Where’s William?” Lucie asked, then, “Goodness, girl. What happened to your eye?”

  “The sonsofbitches hit me,” Kris responded. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve got
to get out of here right now!”

  “Where’s William?” Erin asked. She came out from the back as well.

  “He …” Brighten choked. “He sacrificed himself so I could get to Kris.”

  “What do you mean, boy?” Lucie asked. “’Sacrificed himself?’ Does Rendal have him?”

  Brighten nodded, tears in his eyes.

  “Y’all fuckin’ wish Rendal had me,” William’s voice boomed from outside the ragged metal door. “He couldn’t handle me on his best day, with me on my worst.”

  The door opened, and William practically fell through. He landed on a knee, grimacing.

  Erin rushed across the shanty’s dirt floor, kneeling in front of him.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, my lady.”

  “Oh cut the ‘my lady’ crap!” Kris groaned. “And if you’re fine, I’m a pig’s titty.”

  Brighten’s vision was still blurry, but he walked over next to Erin, barely able to believe what he was seeing. The big man was burnt in places, his flesh blackened and raw. He was dirty and looked beaten up...but he wasn’t dead.

  “How? How did you get away?” Brighten asked.

  “Not with his brains, I can tell ya that,” Kris quipped.

  “Hush it, girl. You’re worse than fuckin’ Riley.” William slowly pulled himself to his feet, favoring his side as he did.

  Erin put one of his massive arms over her shoulder, doing her best to steady him.

  “I don’t look great, but neither does Rendal the Dickless,” William bragged.