A Squire's Wish: A GameLit novel (Hidden Wishes Book 2)

by Tao Wong

  “My head,” I added and allowed Alexa to grab my arm to prod and push at my hand. I winced as she focused on the injury, a low glow filling her body and sweeping over my arm. Soon, the ache that had begun to press on me began to fade away, and the torn skin, muscles, and tendons fixed themselves under her care. I grinned slightly, grateful for her ability. The movement of my head made me wince as the mana headache returned with a vengeance. Even her healing could not fix that.

  Damn, but Caleb was going to give me shit about overextending myself again.

  “What a disappointing performance. A squire should have barely broken a sweat over such a simple request.” The voice berating us came from a goateed, muscular man in a simple outdoor jacket and jeans ensemble. If not for the glowing, probably enchanted sword that hung on his hip, I would have thought he was a normal human. Come to think of it, he probably is a normal human—just one with training and a church backing him.

  “My apologies, Templar Ignis,” Alexa replied, turning slightly to offer him a half bow. She did not let go of my hand during this period though, her healing faith magic still stitching me together. Whether it was due to the lack of complete obeisance or the use of magic, I saw the Templar’s eyes narrow.

  “I am here to inform you about your trial regulations,” Ignis said.

  “That was fast,” Alexa said, eyes wide.

  “Is this how you speak to a Templar, Initiate? You have not been away from the camp that long, have you?” Again, the Templar’s voice came with a snap.

  “My apologies, Templar Ignis,” Alexa replied, bowing again. Her fingers around my hand clenched slightly as she did so, the flow of magic stuttering for a second.

  “Better. Due to the circumstances of your situation, it has been decided your trial should be modified as you were informed. You and your sorcerer will both participate in the trial. To make it fairer, you will have a broader list of requirements to fulfill.” Ignis reached a hand into his jacket, and he pulled an envelope out, then tossed it toward Alexa. It landed on the ground gently, part of it staining with blood immediately.

  I found myself flashing Ignis a toothy grin, as his provocation did not result in Alexa letting go of my hand.

  “You have two weeks.”

  “Thank you, Templar,” Alexa said and bowed once more.

  “Hey!” I called out. When Ignis turned toward me, I continued. “What makes you think I’m going along with this?”

  “You will not aid your friend?”

  “You mean the person you sent to guard me without my say-so? The one who has orders to take my head if I look like I might end up going over to the dark side, ring be damned?” I asked. I stared straight at Ignis when I said the second part, but I watched Alexa from the corner of my eyes while doing so, seeing the slight flinch and feeling a sudden increase in pressure on my hand. So. I was right.

  “What do you want, sorcerer?”

  “Mage. And I get paid for completing quests,” I said, pointing to the birds around us. “Two weeks at my usual rate sounds just about right.”

  Ignis stared at me, his lip curling upward in a sneer. After a moment, he jerkily nodded and turned away. I couldn’t help but flash a smile. When Ignis had walked away far enough, I hissed at Alexa. “You can stop squeezing so hard.”

  “Oh!” Alexa blushed slightly in embarrassment, releasing her death grip on my arm.

  I growled as the magic slowly tapered off. I pulled my hand back, flexing it slightly, and marveled at the crusty wound. It looked like it had undergone weeks of healing in minutes, hints of new flesh showing under the scabbed-over wound.

  “Don’t do that!” Alexa said, smacking my picking fingers and making me wince. Unlike my own general healing spell, hers was more directed, which meant the major damage I had taken was healed over, but the rest of my body still ached from the myriad of cuts. With a grimace, I walked to my bag and returned with the first-aid kit to start working on our minor wounds. Iodine, antibiotic cream, and gauze… lots of gauze.

  “So, he was nice,” I said softly once we had the majority of our wounds taken care of and wrapped. Both of us had some form of additional healing speed—mine from Lily, and Alexa’s… well, Alexa’s from her faith in God, I guess, but it would do us no good to bleed out beforehand. Or, you know, get pulled over by the police for bleeding everywhere.

  “Templar Ignis is extremely strict,” Alexa said neutrally.

  “Still watching us, eh?” I shook my head. Still, there were some advantages to them watching. Among other things, the wards helped ensure that our fight in a semi-popular park in the early hours of the morning had not drawn attention.

  “Most likely,” Alexa said. “Come, we should rest.”

  “And then we’ll talk about how I’ve been shanghaied into this?” I asked as we limped back toward her car. Our bags dangled from our hands, the letter firmly stored in one of them.

  “Well, you have been paid to do it,” Alexa said snippily.

  “Angry?” I asked. After a few paces of silence, I continued. “I’d have done it without the payment, but it is nice getting paid, no?”

  “Would you? It’s something you’d do for a friend,” Alexa said, turning to look at me, her blue eyes troubled. “I’m just your guard, aren’t I?”

  “Guard and friend,” I said, shrugging blithely. “You can be both.”

  “Can I?” Alexa breathed her words out, her voice troubled. But this time, I did not answer her. After all, I’d said what I said. The rest, she would have to decide.

  After a time, I raised my voice and said, “It’s a murder. A murder of crows.”

  Chapter 4

  “I’m not sure I should be letting Alexa choose your quests any longer,” Lily said after I’d caught a quick shower and nap. Thankfully, the painkillers and nap had taken the edge off my headache. Now it just felt like a day-old caffeine headache. The three of us were now back in our sparsely furnished living room, clean and looking better off. Still, healing required food, and thus we were holding this meeting over the remnants of three large pizzas. Hawaiian for me, a meat lover’s for Alexa, and a custom seafood, vegetable, and salami mix for Lily.

  I laughed softly and shifted gingerly in my chair, my injured arm gently cradled in the other. “We are still getting the experience rewards, right?”

  “And the money,” Alexa confirmed while Lily sighed and waved her hand.

  Quest complete! You successfully murdered the murder of Mystic Crows.

  +187 XP

  PS: Not all subjugation quests have to be finished with violence.

  I laughed at Lily’s note but had to admit the jinn had a point. Then again, Alexa had not been particularly interested in talking. Still, while being a murderhobo was all well and good in roleplaying games, running around killing everything you saw and stealing from every unlocked door was a good way to end up in jail in the real world.

  “Well, the next few we don’t have much choice on,” I said, glancing at the blood-stained envelope and the pieces of paper that it once held. Lily sniffed at my words, glaring at the paper. After a moment, new notifications flashed in front of me.

  New Quest Accepted – Help Alexa Complete Her Squire Trials (Chained Quest)

  This is a chained quest. You must complete the sub-quests to complete the major quest.

  Sub-quests:

  - Investigate and deal with the sudden influx of Leprechaun’s Foot

  - Collect fifty specimens of Spotted Wynn Mushrooms

  - Deal with the issues plaguing the Brixton Orphanage

  “Is this normal?” I asked quietly, staring at the three tasks. Considering what she had said, I expected something a little bloodier. And rote. Other than the Wynn Mushrooms, most of these looked rather specific to our city.

  “No,” Alexa said simply. “Normally it’s more to deal with a haunting or killing a few undead. Maybe travel to Africa and kill a few shifters.”

  “Wait, you kill shifters?” I asked, disapproval in my
voice. “I thought—”

  “They were civilized? Most are, but there are roaming mercenary groups of shifters in Africa who offer their services to various warlords. And who don’t bother asking the populace their thoughts when they recruit new members.” Alexa’s face darkened. “You’d be surprised how many charitable Christian missions include a class of initiates on their class test.”

  “I… see.” I prodded at my own feelings, trying to decide how I felt about sending a bunch of teenagers out on a kill mission, and I found I truly had very little objections. It didn’t seem that different from the government doing the same. At least in this case, they were going after known assholes. Or so I hoped.

  “Guess we’re special,” I said, rubbing my chin. “Which one do you think we should tackle first?”

  “Why don’t we split it?” Alexa said, tapping the air in front of her before realizing I could not see what she saw. Being part of my party, Lily had shared a stripped-down version of my notification screen with Alexa. The party screen and Alexa’s health gauge were two of the things that the wish benefitted the initiate directly on. “I’ll visit the orphanage, and you talk to El about where you can find Wynn Mushrooms.”

  “El probably would know if anyone does,” I said, agreeing with Alexa. El was my pixie friend, a used clothing shopkeeper I had known before the change. The pixie’s other, less public job was buying and selling alchemical and enchantment ingredients for the supernatural population. “But it won’t take me very long to finish with El. So why don’t I meet you at the orphanage? That way you can meet with them first anyway.”

  Alexa’s lips pursed and for a moment. I wondered if she didn’t want me to visit the orphanage. After all, I was an evil sorcerer, at least to some strict interpretations. It’d bitten us in the ass a few times before.

  “Okay,” Alexa said after a moment, seeming to have come to a decision. We continued to chat for a bit, Lily providing a little more background on the mushrooms, which—I was unhappy to learn—were not known to grow in clumps. In fact, the magical mushrooms grew and thrived in areas of intense emotion. As for Leprechaun’s Foot, either the jinn really knew nothing or felt it was better for us to learn about it ourselves. Myself, I was pretty sure it was the second option.

  As usual, the window display at Nora’s, El’s shop, had changed again, filled with a tasteful and colorful ensemble of clothing on mannequins. The display mostly focused on women’s clothing, though I did see a particular hipster ensemble with a hat, skinny pants, and a fringed jean shirt that made my lips quirk. Then again, I was wearing a shirt that had Han Solo saying: “Make it so.” Perhaps critiquing other people’s fashion choices might not be my best move.

  Inside Nora’s was the usual cluster of used clothing racks, carefully laid out to allow shoppers to browse in peace while allowing El to watch everyone. It even had a few safety mirrors set up, though only after my transformation did I notice they had been enchanted to strip away enchantments from the reflections. At least, for those who had the eyes to see.

  El herself was busy at one corner of the counter, working through a pile of clothing brought in by one of her irregular “suppliers.” Like myself, before my wish, they had deposited an eclectic mix of clothing purchased at garage sales, other used stores, eBay, and storage auctions. Rather than bother El, I browsed the store myself until she was free.

  “Henry,” El called. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her nod at me, and for a second, I had a sense of vertigo. At first, she looked like the matronly older woman I had known for years, a hefty brunette who always had a kind smile and an ability to pay more than other stores. Then, the flame-haired, slim beauty appeared as I stared at the pixie head-on, her glamour falling away under my Mage Sight.

  “Hey, El,” I greeted her, walking toward the counter.

  “Here to buy or sell?” El asked.

  “I could be asking for work,” I replied with a smile. In my earlier days, El had kindly provided me a series of jobs collecting various enchanted material from around the city. It was low-paying work, but it was work I could manage at my lower level. Since I’d gained Alexa’s help and leveled up, I’d been here much less often.

  “I wish,” El said with a smile. “You were one of my best suppliers, but sending a mage to collect Grimmark Gum might be overkill.”

  “Probably,” I said, repressing my curiosity about what Grimmark Gum was. Getting into a discussion about it would eat up most of the afternoon. It was no surprise that with El’s extensive knowledge of materials she had done as well as she had in the mystical ingredient business. The sale of her used clothing basically acted as her cover and allowed her to launder her earnings.

  “Actually, I need some advice. I’ve got to collect some spotted Wynn mushrooms,” I said, rubbing my nose. “Lily filled us in a bit on them, but I figured you might know…”

  “Where to find it in the city?” El finished my sentence before she nodded slowly. “I know a few places, but the spotted Wynn are rare. How many do you need?”

  “Fifty.”

  “Fifty?” El squeaked slightly, shaking her head rapidly. “What are you trying to do? Lay the entire New York undead population to rest?”

  “Pardon?” I asked. “Isn’t the mushroom for Mana recovery?”

  “Wynn mushrooms are enhancers. Spotted Wynn are ten times more effective. Your Templar friends use it quite often in their censers when they do battle with the undead,” El said. “They use it to disrupt their attachment to this world, and against weaker undead, it can even send them directly back.”

  “Oh.” I frowned. Huh. “How much do they use?”

  “I’m not sure, but generally about half a mushroom is enough for a single censer. You’d be collecting enough for a hundred censers, and those burn for a good hour or so,” El replied.

  “So, locations?” I asked after a moment. After all, it didn’t matter what I wanted. What I needed was fifty specimens.

  “I’m not sure,” El said. “I can point you to a few locations, but Jordie’s my mushroom man. He’d know better.”

  “Think you could put me in touch with him?” I asked after consideration. I understood El not knowing exact locations. In fact… “Do you have any in stock?”

  “I could, but Jordie’s not exactly the most talkative. But I’ve got two in stock right now,” El said, eyeing me. “Link?”

  “Yeah, Link spell. If Jordie doesn’t work…” I shrugged. El knew enough of my abilities to know what I was going to do.

  “Fine. But only once, you hear me? No collecting otherwise. And I’m going to charge you a premium,” El said threateningly.

  “Done.” I sighed. I understood her point. Having a mage like me going around sweeping up all the alchemical ingredients was rather unfair—on her business and her collectors’ livelihoods. It was one thing for me to be working as a collector for her, another to be hogging all the ingredients. The only reason mages didn’t do it more often was that there was no point. Generally, most mages had better things to do with their time.

  Then again, most mages weren’t penniless cheats like me.

  “Oh, before I forget. Leprechaun’s Foot. Ever heard of it?” I asked El, recalling the other quest. We hadn’t even made plans to deal with it, not knowing what exactly it was.

  “Why do you want to know?” El said, her tone suddenly serious.

  “Quest,” I said.

  El eyed me, her green-and-blue eyes hard and serious as they fixed on my face, searching for a lie that did not exist. After a moment, she relaxed and nodded. “Stay away from using it. It’s bad news of the worse kind.”

  “But what is it?”

  “Leprechaun’s Foot is a luck drug. It alters your luck for the better,” El said, her lips tight. “It’s an old formula, renamed a few times. Karma’s Whore, the Devil’s Gift, Norn’s Blessing. It’s had a lot of names but the same formula.”

  “I take it there’s something wrong with the way it’s made?”


  “Luck. Fate. Karma. However you call it, we all have some aspect of fortune provided to us, gifted if you will, from our past lives. The Foot, it requires taking from one to another, but there’s no way to take, to remove such a thing without harming the original host. And the price paid by those taking it in the future is even greater,” El said.

  “Rule of three?” I asked curiously. It was something the Mage Council scoffed at officially but that individuals from the older traditions believed in, in one form or another. The rule of three itself was from Wicca, the belief that any magic used returned threefold. Good or bad. Which of course encouraged Wiccans to use it for good. For many supernaturals, whether it was karma or fate, the belief in old traditions certainly held true and guided their actions to some extent.

  “Yes.”

  I paused then, somewhat awkwardly. My next question was self-evident, but it could so easily be misconstrued.

  “You want to know how it’s made.” El read me like a book.

  “Yeah,” I replied softly. “Can’t track it without, well…”

  “No,” El replied flatly. “I won’t help you on that.”

  “Figured,” I said with a sigh. Damn it. Still, if it was a drug, I knew a few people. Which amused me in a way. I knew how to get an illegal supernatural drug but had not a clue where I would purchase a bag of marijuana. Tells you the kind of life I led these days.

  “Henry, be careful,” El said sternly. “The type of people who make these kinds of drugs, they’re not the kind you cross.”

  I nodded, stories of Mexican drug cartels flashing through my mind. I really didn’t want my house burned down, my hands chopped off, and my balls stuffed into my mouth. Not in that order necessarily. “I’ll be careful.”

  El sighed at my words, and I bid her goodbye. At least, to some extent, Alexa and I were protected by my wish, but there were so many loopholes in the wish that it was scant protection if someone really desired our deaths. Still, it wasn’t as if we could say no. With troubled thoughts about my future and the potential for mayhem in my life, I flagged down a taxi to bring me to the orphanage.