Wizard Hall Chronicles Box Set

by Sheryl Steines

  “Too long, apparently. This is gross.”

  No matter how much they cleaned it up, the market simply moved to a new secret location, where items would still be traded and sold. It was a slippery slope that the Wizard Council and Wizard Guard treaded lightly on. Raid too few times and the market got out of hand, but raid too often and the Council lost the market.

  While they perused the stall next to Joseph’s, Annie and Cham observed the booth crowded with artifacts, bottles, and fabric in a multitude of colors of pinks, purples, blues, chartreuse, and some that they had no name for. Together, the colors created a scattered, homey space in the middle of the black market.

  Thumbing through ancient tomes and baskets of herbs kept Annie occupied as Joseph finished up with his customer. Behind her, footsteps pounded, growing closer. She turned as a demon lunged at her. She waved her hand with a spell forcing him to walk to the other side of the aisle. The creature struggled to turn around, but demons were not known for intelligence or patience, so he soon gave up and scampered in another direction.

  Annie inched her way to Joseph’s stall, examining the new items. Far more exotic than those in the surrounding booths, bright, colorful rugs fluttered in the air but were unable to fly, tethered to the wall with thick string. Scores of magic lamps lay discarded in large baskets. A thick layer of dust covered them; everyone knew genies were tricksters and untrustworthy. Annie picked up the nearest one and read the incantation. Its wording was unspecified.

  Not rubbing this belly, she thought and put the lamp on top of the pile.

  Cham sniffed a bag of herbs—his face contorted in confusion.

  “Foreign,” he said.

  Scattered within the stall were several mismatched items that didn’t belong. Annie picked up a piece of driftwood with marks gouged into the bark and attempted to read the inscriptions, but they were unknown to her; she jumped when a pair of eyes opened and blinked. Annie dropped the driftwood, which landed with a thud. Cham moved a stone in his palm as it turned colors, slowly at first but gaining speed until it rattled, shook violently, and exploded into small pieces. Pebbles cascaded to the table.

  Joseph and his customer glared at Cham for a moment before returning to their disagreement. Pieces of stone inched toward each other and put themselves back together. Cham shook his head at Annie.

  “Is this actually supposed to be a stall in the black market?” she said.

  “This is the weirdest collection of junk I’ve ever seen. Nothing looks all that bad, just weird.”

  Joseph still argued with his short, dirty, wind-blown customer wrapped in a moth-eaten blanket, so they decided not to wait. Annie tapped the customer on the shoulder, holding her Wizard Guard identification for him to see—an amulet of carved silver and a circle with the symbols representing the Wizard Guard. Known throughout the world, the amulet was either respected or feared, depending on which side of magic you were on.

  The customer stared with wide eyes and scurried from the stall, leaving behind a box containing a large purple leaf called oliandium, a magically grown plant used in making potions. The poisonous leaf required a small corner to make an average-sized person ill. The whole leaf would kill an elephant. It was illegal to grow, own, and sell. Annie pulled out a small linen pouch from her pocket, summoned the leaf, and guided it into the bag.

  “Evidence,” she advised Joseph, who glanced at Cham as if he might reverse the action.

  Cham held out his Wizard Guard badge, and Joseph cringed.

  “We have a few questions for you,” Annie said. “If you answer correctly, you’ll get your leaf back. If not, it becomes property of the Wizard Council. Got it?”

  Joseph wore ancient wizard robes decorated with large and colorful tribal patterns. The sleeves were ratty and worn, the neckline torn from use, and white stains dotted various places on the front of the fabric. His dark skin was smooth and flawless, indicating that dueling wasn’t a pastime of his. His soulful eyes revealed a man not as mean or scary as Mortimer described him to be. Instead, his eyes opened wide with fear.

  “So, Joseph, tell us about the orb you sold to Mortimer,” Cham said.

  Joseph stared at the poisonous leaf sticking out of Annie’s jacket. His eyes darted around the market; talking to the Wizard Guard was a no-no in the market.

  “I had that sold, you know. Good price, too.”

  Annie ran a finger over it and shrugged. “We just want to know about the orb.”

  A man flew through the air; his scream echoed throughout the market as he slammed into a table four stalls away. They watched as the creature—not a man after all, but a vampire—landed on a spiked object that pierced his heart. He combusted into flames, and his body burned quickly, leaving a fine layer of ash covering the table and all items sold there. The booth owner shouted and marched to across the aisle to the stall where the vampire flew from.

  Annie returned her focus to Joseph, who peered around them to get a better look at the brawl between two stall owners. Objects flew through the air, and Joseph ducked out of the way as a cauldron landed on the table between them. The impact split the table in two, each half crashing inward, objects sliding to the ground. Annie put her hand up in front of the shopkeeper, freezing him as Cham cast a protection spell around them.

  She jumped over the broken table, scrutinizing the other items. The scuffle raged around them; a body tossed into the aisle landed at Cham’s feet. He assisted the man, flashed his identification badge, and watched the man scamper away.

  “Anything back there?”

  “Besides Joseph being a slob?” Annie pulled out a pile of parchment on a small table—purchase records, she discovered. “Seriously, I can’t believe they keep records of all their illegal activities. This is way too easy.”

  While Annie sorted through the papers, Cham pawed through the piles of junk in the back—old tires, inconsequential kitchen items, and Joseph’s moldy lunch.

  “None of his stuff makes sense.”

  “I get the feeling this guy has no idea what he’s doing and happened to stumble on the orb.” She pulled another folder from his desk and perused the documents. “Most of this is chicken scratch. I think he’s trying to figure out some potion or spell. Or maybe… ” She handed Cham a picture of the orb, clearly written thoughts scattered across the page.

  “Joseph’s trying to figure out how to make it work.” Cham folded up the picture and stuck it in his pocket. “Maybe this is a ruse?”

  “Another wizard to place on the watch list. What woodwork do they crawl out of?”

  Cham nodded and returned opposite Joseph. Annie unfroze the merchant. His confusion turned to anger.

  “What did you do?” he demanded. His eyes shifted to the end of the brawl in the center of the aisle. The shopkeepers, both bloody and bruised, were pulled apart by patrons and walked to their respective booths. The crowd slowly simmered to its normal din.

  “Nothing. You’re fine. You just need to tell us about the Orb of Eridu you sold,” Cham said.

  “You’ll return the leaf and leave me alone? I don’t want any trouble.”

  “That’s fair. Just tell us about the orb.” Cham softened his voice.

  “Some guy brought it to me at my home, sold it cheap. I knew what it was right away, and since there’s only one, I didn’t think it would do any harm to have it.” His eyes darted from Annie to Cham. His skin turned gray as his lips puckered. Annie thought he might vomit.

  “And the seller’s name?” Cham asked.

  “Called himself Beckett.” Joseph averted his eyes from their scrutiny.

  “And he sought you out?” Annie asked.

  “Yeah. I’d never seen one before. Did something happen?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Not yet. The Guard’s got the orb you sold to Mortimer. What’s your relationship with him anyway?”

  “Damn fool. I knew I shouldn’t have sold that to him, but his eyes got wide, and he said he had a buyer for it. Got all giddy.
”

  “What do you know about the orb?”

  “Just that they capture souls. And to make the magic work—the real magic, not the soul-trapping stuff—you need all of them. The power to control multiple souls, to enchant, bewitch, and guide others won’t work with just one. With all four, you can’t be stopped. Damn thing’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

  “Do you know where someone might find the other orbs?” Cham asked.

  “Anywhere around the market, I suppose. I never seen another. Maybe that idiot Mortimer found others. I don’t know for sure.” Joseph sighed.

  “Maybe from Beckett. If he procured one, maybe he has a source. Skip the middleman. Could you describe him? Tats, birthmarks, hair color, anything?”

  Joseph looked thoughtfully at them, rubbing his jaw. “Very tall, very thin. Black hair, brown eyes. Oh, and really, really pale.”

  “Pale as in light-skinned or pale as in vampire?” Cham said after exchanging a concerned glance with Annie.

  Joseph’s eyes widened, realizing the connection.

  “Cold as a vampire. Shook his hand, and it gave me chills. Didn’t know for sure ’til just now, though.” He chuckled and held his hand out for the leaf. Annie begrudgingly handed it back to him. Joseph left for the back of his tent, leaving Annie and Cham standing in silence.

  *

  For the first time since leaving the market, Annie felt warmth. Heat radiated from her chai tea, and she warmed her hands with the steam as it dissipated through the hole in the lid. Sitting in the small coffee shop across from Wizard Hall, she swirled the cup of tea rather than drinking it, no longer wanting the sweet drink.

  She stared at the building where her father had worked a job he loved and died for. The inconclusive nature of his case consumed her now more than ever; she was desperate to know what her dad knew. Annie had left Cham inside, claiming to need a moment to clear her head of the thoughts that invaded her mind.

  When Cyril B. Stonewell exited the hall through a side door of Wizard Hall and strolled down the street, Jason Pearce’s youngest daughter stiffened. She was not suspecting to see him, and intrigue superseded her nervousness. Annie left the coffee shop to follow him.

  Stonewell ducked inside an alley and had teleported by the time Annie entered. Capturing his magic with her crystal and scrying for him, Annie was unsurprised to discover that the head of Artifact Hall had landed at Rathbone’s warehouse. Disregarding her anxieties, Annie teleported away, hoping Cham would understand.

  Rathbone’s warehouse appeared legitimate to the casual observer; employees scrambled inside to assist the steady stream of customers. The items on display seemed nothing more than exotic and legal, but Annie knew that the real business took place deep inside the building. She hid on the rooftop of the building across the street, observing Stonewell as he was ushered to the back of the warehouse.

  For a time, several wizards and witches entered and exited, and for the better part of an hour, nothing appeared out of sorts. Just when she was ready to call it quits, someone ran for the door covered in a thick, black blanket; Annie was certain it was a vampire avoiding the bright summer sun.

  The creature handed Rathbone’s employee a piece of parchment. The man read the note, his hands shaking as he reluctantly headed toward the back of the building. Rathbone ran through the open area, grabbed the vampire by the throat, and pushed him against the wall. After having words, the angry wizard threw the vampire to the ground and stormed out of his warehouse, teleporting from the alley.

  While waiting to follow Rathbone, Annie’s cell phone buzzed. After reading the message from Cham, Annie headed to Tartarus rather than following the dark wizard.

  Chapter 26

  Sturtagaard’s last hallucination left him curled in a ball on the cot. Fewer visions haunted him now, only appearing in the mornings before he drank his daily ration of blood. The rest of the day he spent docile, like the castrated animal the prison had made him.

  A clock hung in the hallway; with each passing minute, the timepiece pinged with a tinny echo. The sound rattled in Sturtagaard’s brain. Along the corridor, he constantly heard the pounding and scraping of the giants’ shuffle back and forth from his cell door. Sturtagaard no longer acknowledged their presence, their sounds a minute detail of the drafty old prison. On this occasion, he heard them continue on their way to a newly occupied chamber.

  Taunts followed the giants as they left the vampire wing, and though Sturtagaard wanted to respond to his newest wingmate, he really didn’t care.

  A minute later, however, the sound of animated human voices made his ears perk up. On the other side of the hallway door, a male and female argued. A smile crept across the vampire’s face. A rift must be growing between Annie and her boy. He sat up when human-sized footsteps entered the corridor.

  “You sold an orb to Joseph, the vendor at the market. How did that fit into the plan?” Annie asked unamused.

  “Yes, I did sell him an orb. But if you want to know who sold it to me, you’d be traveling all over the world and back centuries.” Sturtagaard stumbled to the bars, ignoring the sunlight streaming into the cell.

  Annie gazed anxiously down the hallway and sighed before turning her full attention to the vampire.

  “I don’t care where it came from, jackass! Just your plan!” Her patience was waning.

  “Honestly, Annie. I didn’t take you to be so high-strung. The boy making you unhappy?” He smirked. “By the way, where is he?”

  “You’re a pig, Sturtagaard.”

  Above her palm, a small fireball hovered for a second before she threw it at Sturtagaard. His eyes grew wide as the flame landed on his pant leg.

  “I had no plan, you crazy bitch!” The demon patted down the flame with his only hand; the fire burned the skin on his palm and pain radiated through his hand and forearm. With wild eyes, he stifled the scream that desperately wanted to escape his mouth. On the other side of the bars, Annie held another flame.

  “Okay. Okay. Blow out the hand candle, little girl.” The vampire snuffed out the last of the burning pant leg. “I got the orb on my travels, and I know a useful object when I see one. I held on to it for centuries. Unfortunately, I needed a little cash and sold it before it could be of service to me. Two months ago, if you want to know.” Sturtagaard backed away from the bars into the far corner, as far away from her he could.

  “You just happened to need money when a powerful black magician needed the orb? Why didn’t you keep it for your job as a recruitment officer?”

  “I got the job after I sold the orb. I’ve only been recruiting since the end of May. I was rather surprised to learn he had it and even more surprised that it went missing in such a short time.”

  “Yeah, you accidentally sold the orb at the right time, and I’m an elfin fairy.”

  Sturtagaard shrugged.

  “You sold it because you knew he needed it. Why am I surprised?” Shaking her head, Annie sighed and continued. “Where else could a person buy an orb, should they need one?”

  “I haven’t heard of any others on the market. Whoever’s in charge has been quiet,” Sturtagaard said with a bemused twitch of his lips. He took a moment to truly examine Annie. She wore no scowl or anger and seemed weary, maybe even sad. “I’ve done all you’ve asked. When are you releasing me?”

  “We need you to keep your meeting with Sarconis. Then you’re going to leave, escape, move away, jump in front of a stake, I don’t care. The Council’s done with you.”

  They’re letting me go?

  “What’s the catch?”

  “We’re adding a condition to your release, so don’t think you’ll be able to escape before your meeting.”

  “What are you going to do to me, then?”

  Annie shrugged, opened the cell door, and waved him out of the cell.

  “I am being released?”

  “Nope. Hands out.” She wrapped a rope around his body, binding his arms to his torso.

  “Is this
really necessary?”

  Had the vampire breathed, it would have been greatly constricted thanks to how tightly Annie tied the rope. As it was, he struggled to walk down the hall.

  “Yep.” Annie tugged on the end of the rope and dragged him down the corridor.

  *

  Cham waited in the interrogation room, sitting at the table with his backpack in front of him. He avoided Annie’s eyes as she pushed the vampire into the room and tied him to a chair.

  “So, what has your panties in a bunch?” Sturtagaard said to Cham.

  “Don’t wear panties.” The Wizard Guard removed items from his backpack and set them on the table.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk, boy. What did you do to the girl that has her so upset?”

  Cham raised his eyebrows. “Now, why is it me who’s done something to her?”

  “Yeah, I supposed Miss Badass isn’t good girlfriend material. Too bossy.” Sturtagaard burst out laughing.

  In a split second, the pointy end of Annie’s stake lay against Sturtagaard’s shoulder, perfectly aimed at his heart should she push it downward. He flinched under the pressure.

  Cham opened the stopper on a vial of atomie beans and held a small seed in his palm.

  “What are you going to do to me?” Sturtagaard followed Cham’s motions as he placed one bean back in the vial and held the other over the vampire’s shoulder.

  “You can’t do this. What are you doing? This wasn’t part of the agreement!” Sturtagaard squirmed against the strong ropes and rocked back and forth in his chair, attempting to release his shoulder from Cham’s grip.

  Annie grabbed two giants from outside the door to hold him down. They placed their plate-sized hands around his arms, holding him still. Cham said the spell, and the vampire grimaced as the bean pinched his skin.

  “What was that?”

  The giants removed their hands, and the vampire squirmed in an attempt to loosen the ropes. Cham waved a hand across Sturtagaard, tightening the bindings until he could no longer move, and then sat in the chair across from the vampire.

  “It’s the additional condition of your release. These beans will allow us to track you when and where we choose. Try to remove it, and we’ll know. Then we’ll find you and stake you,” Cham advised.