Storms of Magic Boxed Set: Books 1-4

by Hylton, PT

  Olaf nodded. “I hear you. And that’s what I’m going to be like after I learn fire magic. I’m going to be all inspiring and stuff. They’ll tell tales of Olaf and his flaming sword.”

  “I’ll be amazed if you don’t set your hair on fire.” Clemens turned back to Fannar. “What about you? Any desire to learn magic?”

  “Desire? No. But if there’s a need…” Fannar reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out a vial of brown liquid.

  Olaf’s eyes widened. “Is that seiderdrek?”

  “Yes. I’d hoped to never consume it again. It feels wonderful, but also terrible. I’ve never felt so powerful, yet so out of control. I suppose seiderdrek is a form of magic itself.”

  “So why keep it?” Clemens asked.

  “In case it is necessary. It’s my last resort. If we get cornered and there’s no other way out, I’ll drink it.”

  “I think you can pretty much count on that happening,” Olaf said.

  Dahlia let out an especially loud snore.

  Clemens laughed. “If you would have told me back when I was on Thunderclap that I’d one day be holding Dahlia prisoner, I wouldn’t have believed you. I was terrified of her. I mean, Captain Tor was a mean sonofabitch, but at least you always knew what he was thinking. The man screamed his thoughts the moment they came into his head. Dahlia was different. Unreadable. And she acted like she was above it all, yet somehow she still commanded the love of the crew.”

  “Fates can change quickly, my friend,” Fannar said. “We’d all do well to remember that.”

  * * *

  Syd, Abbey, Benjamin, and Dustin were shown into another room to continue their conversation with Chief Magnus.

  Though the room was smaller, the setup was remarkably similar. There was a throne at one end and no other seats.

  They waited in silence for fifteen minutes, not knowing if they were being watched or listened to, before an archway opened at the far end of the room and Chief Magnus entered, accompanied by two large men.

  When Magnus marched to the throne, one of the men followed him and took a position to the right of the throne. The other man closed the archway, shifting the stone to engulf the opening. When he was finished, he trotted to the throne and took up his place on the chief’s left.

  None of the group from The Foggy Day spoke. They remembered Edvard’s words: Do not speak until the chief addresses you.

  Magnus cleared his throat. “Right, well, I’ve discussed the matter with my advisors. They were united in their thoughts. We should kill you, destroy your ship, and execute everyone aboard. Minus the Queen of Storms, of course. If we can save her, we should, although she’s an acceptable loss if there’s no way around it.”

  Abbey couldn’t help but smile. Dahlia had overestimated her importance to the Stone Shapers.

  He paused, staring at them for a long moment.

  Abbey waited for what he would say next. She knew that if Magnus wanted to kill them, they’d already be dead. He had something else in mind.

  “Thankfully for you,” he continued, “my advisors aren’t in charge. I am. And as I said, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Speak it,” Syd replied.

  The chief shifted in his seat and tugged his moustache. He seemed to be considering how best to begin.

  “Many years ago, a man named Ragnar came from Barskall, and he brought a small army with him.” He glared at Syd. “I suspect you already know that part.”

  Syd nodded to confirm.

  “Answer aloud when the chief asks you a question!” the man to Magnus’ right barked.

  Syd bristled. “Yes, I know of Ragnar.”

  “He harassed our villages, raided them, stole provisions. It was not a great time. He knew nothing of Stone Shaping, but Gren is a big place, and Ragnar was good at hiding. Our people suffered for over a year while we tried to track him down. We finally did, and we threw him in the mines, along with all his men and women. Or so we thought. Turned out that a few slipped through our fingers.”

  “I’ve known a few Barskall,” Abbey said. “They are known for being slippery.”

  The men on either side of the throne glared at Abbey, but since the chief didn’t reprimand her, they said nothing.

  “Against all odds, these Barskall have remained at large ever since. They call themselves the Tall Grass Raiders, and they attack our most remote villages, thieving and burning. I could have caught them years ago, but the expense of combing the countryside would be more costly than the damage they’re doing. I believe they’re doing it on purpose. Causing just enough trouble to be bothersome, but not so much that I’m willing to devote a serious campaign to tracking them down.”

  “Smart strategy on their part,” Dustin said.

  Magnus glared at him. “I’d describe it as devious. Either way, the results are the same. The people whose towns the rebels attack come crying to me about it, and I look like a damn fool for not being about to protect them. Then you show up.”

  “What is the favor, Chief Magnus?” Syd asked, even though she had almost certainly figured it out.

  Abbey had, and she was already thinking through the logistics of how they would get it done.

  “You want this Elliot,” Magnus said. “I’m told he was one of Ragnar’s men. You can have him, but you’ll have to deliver the rebels to me first. If you can do it in, say, a week, you’ll get your man. You can even keep the Queen of Storms.”

  “I see,” Syd said. “And what makes you think we can accomplish in a week what you haven’t been able to in a decade?”

  For the first time, Magnus smiled. “Because it costs me nothing, and you have something I don’t: motivation. If you return without the rebels or fail to return at all, I and my council will destroy your ship and kill your sailors.”

  Syd’s face betrayed no expression. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Keep your team small. I want at least three-quarters of your people to remain on your ship. The more hostages, the more motivated you’ll be.”

  Syd only paused for a moment before answering. “Very well. But we’ll need a guide—someone who knows the area well.”

  Magnus turned to the man to his right. “See that Gideon accompanies them.”

  The guard looked surprised. “Of course, My Chief.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled.” He stood up with a groan. “Happy hunting, Captain Syd. Get a good night’s sleep. Your seven-day clock starts ticking at dawn.”

  With that, he marched toward the wall at the end of the room. One of the guards hurried in front of him and created an archway for him to pass through.

  The remaining guard spoke to them when Magnus was gone. “Gideon will meet you at your ship at dawn with a wagon, a team of horses, and provisions. Any questions?”

  They had many, but none that couldn’t be asked of Gideon in the morning.

  The guard showed them out of the strange building. They found Edvard and his black-haired friend waiting to guide them back to The Foggy Day.

  * * *

  It was well-past dusk when Benjamin received word that Captain Syd needed to speak with him. He went to her cabin, paused a moment, then knocked.

  “Come,” Syd said.

  Benjamin went inside and found Syd sitting at her desk, writing on a parchment.

  “I didn’t take you for the journaling type,” he said.

  “I’m really not, but Captain Roy trained me well. I’m to leave a detailed account of what goes on every day of the journey, though the odds of this parchment surviving a Stone Shaper attack seem low. Give me just another moment.”

  Benjamin waited in silence for two minutes while she wrote in a slow, deliberate hand.

  Eventually she set the quill down and breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally. I really hate that.” She looked up at Benjamin. “I need to ask a favor.”

  The blacksmith chuckled.

  Syd tilted her head. “What?”

  “The last time you asked me a favor, I ended up on a
diplomatic mission to Algon.”

  She smiled. “And look how well that turned out.”

  “Sure. Aside from the vomiting over the side, assassins trying to kill me, and the battle at the Farrows.”

  “Admit it, you loved every minute.” Her expression grew more serious. “I’m afraid this won’t be as enjoyable.”

  Benjamin stroked his beard. “You really know how to capture a man’s attention.”

  “My mother would be so pleased to hear you say that.”

  Benjamin laughed.

  “Listen, Abbey and I have been discussing who should be on the team searching for the rebels. She suggested we take Dustin, Fannar, Clemens, Olaf, and Viktor.”

  “Her team from Barskall,” Benjamin said.

  She nodded. “It makes sense. They’ve worked well together before. I’ll be going, of course. We’re doing all this to find my brother, so there’s no way I’m going to let others take all the risks.”

  Benjamin knew what she was going to ask, so he said it for her. “You want me to go with you.”

  Syd looked away. “No, actually. I want you to stay behind. I’m putting you in charge of The Foggy Day in my absence.”

  He took a moment to absorb his surprise before answering. “I’m not even a stormship sailor.”

  “You may not have noticed, but we’re not sailing. The ship’s docked. I don’t need a sailor. I need a fighter. I need someone I can trust. And that’s you, blacksmith.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  She gestured to the parchment. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s already official. I wrote it in the journal.”

  Chapter Seven

  The team for the mission to find the Tall Grass Raiders gathered on the dock the next morning. It was Abbey, Dustin, Viktor, Clemens, Olaf, Fannar and Syd.

  Fannar’s hand kept nervously drifting to the handle of his seax, which he wore across the small of his back. “I’ve heard stories about Ragnar’s men. They were brutal to their enemies during the war.”

  Abbey raised an eyebrow. “Unlike the rest of you Barskall, who are so cuddly?”

  “Ragnar was a different breed. Barskall have always loved to raid, to take things that belonged to others in order to gain riches for themselves. Ragnar’s army would burn down villages simply to watch them turn to ash.”

  “I have heard much the same,” Viktor said. “Though it’s worth remembering, or at least considering, if that’s the word, that the tales we heard were told by the winning side. Ragnar would probably have had some less than pleasant things to say about Elias and his army. At least, one would assume.”

  “Either way, these rebels are raiding villages now,” Olaf pointed out. It was clear from the excitement in his voice that he was thrilled to have been selected for this mission. “I can’t wait to put the hurt on these guys.”

  “We’ll have to find them first,” Syd countered. “And, to Viktor’s point, we have to consider that maybe Magnus isn’t giving us the full story here.”

  Abbey glanced back at The Foggy Day. The two stone pillars were back in their original positions on either side of the harbor, but even from this distance Abbey could see the men standing on them were facing toward The Foggy Day, not out to the sea. The guards on the dock were watching the ship too.

  She just hoped Magnus would keep his word and leave the ship alone for the next seven days.

  In her heart, she wished her father was going with them on this mission. Aside from his fighting skill and magical abilities, he provided a calming presence. Even when the future was uncertain, having him at her side made her feel like everything was going to be all right.

  Still, she knew Syd was making the right call. Someone capable needed to oversee Dahlia, and there was no one better suited to the task than Benjamin.

  “Could be our ride,” Dustin said, pointing with his staff at an approaching wagon driven by a single man.

  The driver had a hard look to him, as if he was accustomed to fighting and hard labor. His face was thin, almost drawn, and a long scar ran up one cheek. Much like the other people they’d seen in Ammaas, he wore a black sash.

  “Gideon?” Syd asked as he pulled to a stop alongside them.

  “I am,” the man replied. “Though I often wish I wasn’t, this day being no exception.”

  Syd introduced herself and her team, then they got in the wagon.

  It was a tight fit, with all of them plus seven days’ worth of provisions.

  Syd and Dustin rode up front with Gideon, and the rest of them squeezed in the back.

  Gideon clicked his tongue and the horses began trotting.

  “So, Gideon,” Abbey called up to him. “How’d you get stuck with this assignment?

  The thin man chuckled. “Could be because I’ve been searching for these murderous bastards for nearly a year. I chased them out of the south, and they went west. I pursued them there, and they went north. Every time I got close, they moved.”

  “Where did they strike last?” Dustin asked.

  “Northern outpost. Place is so small it doesn’t have a name.”

  “Hey, like Fannar’s dumb little village!” Olaf interjected.

  Fannar glared at him.

  “It happened just a few days ago. The attack followed the usual pattern. They fired arrows from the hills, ran in, burned everything not made of stone, and got the hell out of there.”

  Abbey thought for a moment. “What do they steal?”

  “Not much. Some people have reported valuables stolen, but I suspect a good portion of them are just making it up in hopes Magnus will provide them some kind of reimbursement. They are sorely mistaken.”

  “If the Tall Grass Raiders aren’t stealing, what’s the point of the raids?” Dustin asked.

  Gideon chuckled. “I spent a lot of time thinking about that. Want to know what I came up with? Absolutely nothing. As far as I can tell, they just like causing trouble. And if I ever meet these bastards, I’m going to pay it right back to them.”

  He held up his hand palm up, revealing a round stone.

  “Hey, mind if I ask you something?” Abbey continued without waiting for an answer. “What’s the deal with those stones? Edvard held his just like you’re doing now. Magnus, too.”

  “Wow, you really don’t know much about the Way of the Stone. Allow me to show you.”

  He lifted the stone off his palm, revealing a smaller flat stone underneath.

  “This is the key principle of Stone Shaping. The uneducated think rocks are unchangeable. In truth, many things can change the shape of a rock. Wind. Water. Even another stone grinding against it. But it all takes time. A Stone Shaper must understand that stone is malleable. If he forgets that for even a moment, he won’t be able to shape. We keep the two stones in our hands at all times. The movement of the rocks against one another reminds us of this simple truth.”

  He set the larger stone back in his hand.

  “It’s considered inappropriate to display the smaller stone in public,” Gideon said sheepishly. “It’s sort of like leaving your home wearing no clothes.”

  “Wait,” Olaf said. “You basically just got naked in front of us?”

  “That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. I won’t do it again.”

  “This is one weird-ass place,” Clemens muttered.

  If Gideon heard the comment, he gave no indication. “Of course, there is also a more practical application.”

  His eyes flashed black, and the round stone in his hand changed, fluidly transforming into a spike that seemed to be growing out of his palm. In an instant, the tip was inches from Clemens’ face.

  Syd did not look amused. “Don’t do that again.”

  “I won’t, Captain,” Gideon said. “Just thought you should see it. I don’t imagine Magnus put much effort into teaching you about our culture.”

  “You don’t have much good to say about Chief Magnus,” Dustin said.

  Gideon shook his head. “I’m afraid I
don’t. Must be a product of working for him for more than a decade, hunting his enemies with insufficient resources while he sits in his maze of a palace. I’ve been putting my life on the line for him a long time.”

  Abbey wondered what kind of man they’d been saddled with. His honesty was refreshing, but it was possible he was just a malcontent who’d sink their mission with his attitude.

  Gideon chuckled. “It also probably doesn’t help that I shared a room with him for fifteen years. Magnus is my brother.”

  * * *

  It took them a day and a half to reach the northern outpost where the Tall Grass Raiders had last attacked.

  It was a small collection of maybe three dozen homes, built on either side of the road. A few other buildings, including a storehouse and a small smithy, made up the rest of the village. Hills rose to the east and west.

  All the buildings were made of stone.

  “What a shithole,” Clemens muttered as they approached.

  Abbey shot him a look. “We’re here to get information, idiot. Insulting their town is probably not the best way to start.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Gideon said. “These folks might live simply, but they’re proud of what they have, and they work hard to maintain it.”

  They pulled to a stop just outside the village at a small guard station. A guard stood on either side of the road. There was a bell hanging from a post near the guard on the right. Both guards wore a black sash.

  The guard nearest the bell stepped into the road, blocking their path.

  “Greetings in the name of Chief Magnus,” Gideon called to them.