Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  Stop wallowing in self-pity. You’re better than this!

  I knew I was. But I didn’t have the energy to prove it. Tears soaked my pillow as I tried to think of something, anything that would get me out of this place. But all I could envision was my head on the chopping block, the executioner’s ax glinting in the morning sun right before he brought it down on my neck. I had no doubt that Director Chartis was going to do everything in his power to ensure that the death sentence hanging over my head was finally delivered.

  Footsteps clopping against the stone floor in the hall drew my attention away from the clouds of misery in my head, and I sat up, hastily wiping the tears and snot from my face with my pillow. The door flew open, and Elgarion marched in along with a bevy of guards, who quickly surrounded me, two of them clamping their hands around my upper arms and dragging me to my feet.

  “To the audience chamber,” Elgarion said, tossing me a smug look. “Your judgment is long overdue, and it’s about time someone finally put you out of your misery.”

  I tried to struggle as the guards marched me out of the room and down the tower steps, but I barely had the strength to fight off a mouse, never mind a troop of burly men. More tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I held them back with the last of my strength. If I was being taken to the audience chamber, did that mean that the Chief Mage was back, and ready to pass sentence? And that Fenris was there too, and simply ignoring my calls for help?

  Elgarion flung the double doors to the audience chamber wide, and I squinted as the bright light assaulted my tear-swollen eyes. But by the time the guards dragged me across the carpet to stand before the Chief Mage’s desk, my eyes had adjusted, and suspicion filled me as I saw that it wasn’t Iannis at all who stood in the Chief Mage’s place, but Director Chartis.

  “You!” I pointed an accusing, if shackled, finger at him. “You’re not the Chief Mage. What right do you have to call me here like this?”

  Director Chartis splayed his hands on the desk as he leaned forward, leveling me with a stony glare. He was wearing gold and blue robes, the Chief Mage’s colors, which made this whole thing even weirder.

  “As the Director of the Mage’s Guild, I have every right to call a hearing in a matter as urgent as this. I act in the Chief Mage’s stead whenever he is away on business.”

  “He’s supposed to be back today,” I insisted, though my heart sank at the truth in his words. “Surely he would want to attend to this matter himself.”

  Chartis made a slicing motion with his hand, and a buffet of air slapped me in the face. My head snapped to the side, shock running through me as my cheek stung in response.

  “Don’t presume that you know the Chief Mage’s mind simply because you’ve spent a few hours with him,” Chartis said coldly. “I am his deputy, and I decide what matters are important enough for him to speak on.”

  I frowned. Something didn’t seem right about this. Director Chartis was the one who’d recommended allowing me to appeal the Chief Mage in the first place, because he’d been afraid of the repercussions of not allowing me to speak to him. Yet now he was willing to go behind the Chief Mage’s back?

  “This is about the Resistance, isn’t it?” I blurted. “You’re in charge of monitoring their activities in Solantha, and you haven’t gotten very far, have you?” That explained why he was willing to circumvent the Chief Mage – mages did not take failure very well at all.

  “Silence!” He air-slapped me again, and my lip split open from the force of the blow. Anger burned in his eyes – the first real emotion other than boredom I’d seen from him, and it shocked me almost as much as the magical blows. “I will ask the questions, and you will answer them.”

  I licked my throbbing lower lip, blood coating the tip of my tongue as I eyed him warily. Spots of color rode high on his cheekbones, and his hands on the table were clenched into fists. There must be a lot riding on my answers.

  “Who were the three shifters who attempted to breach the wards last night?”

  “I have no idea.”

  He motioned again, and I staggered back under the force of another slap. “You will answer my questions truthfully.”

  “I don’t know them!” I shouted, the anger rushing through my veins giving me renewed strength. “I’m an Enforcer, not a deserter! I don’t know anything about the Resistance!”

  Director Chartis walked around the desk slowly, his wintergreen eyes gleaming. “I think you know more than you are letting on,” he said. “Your cousin Rylan is a member of the Resistance. How can you claim to know nothing about them?”

  “Rylan and I don’t exactly talk much,” I snapped. “Like I said, I’m an Enforcer. He wouldn’t want to put me in a bad position.”

  “Oh really?” the Director sneered. “If you don’t talk much, then how is it that he knew exactly what room you were in when he came to rescue you?”

  I opened my mouth, and then shut it again. There was nothing I could tell him that wouldn’t incriminate Rylan. Clenching my hands, I glared at him, wishing I could conjure a fireball so I could melt the self-satisfied expression off his face.

  “You can’t prove that Rylan was there last night. The shifters who tried to break in were gone by the time you showed up.”

  The Director scoffed. “Please! As if any judge or jury wouldn’t believe my word over his.” He pinned me with a cold glare. “Enough games, Miss Baine. You will tell me what I want to know, or else –”

  “And just what is it that you want to know, Argon?”

  My knees wobbled at the sound of Iannis’s voice coming from the entrance to the chamber. Relief rushed through me as I turned to see him striding up the carpet, with Fenris in wolf form trotting at his heels. His expression was stony as usual, but the blaze in his violet eyes told a different story – someone was about to get a serious ass kicking.

  And for once, it wasn’t me.

  “Lord Iannis.” The Director bowed deeply, and I caught the scent of fear rolling off him. “I was simply questioning the prisoner –”

  “In the audience chamber? Wearing ceremonial robes?”

  Director Chartis flushed, drawing his gold and blue robes around himself, and it dawned on me that perhaps he was being a little too zealous about his Acting Chief Mage status. Was he plotting to steal the coveted title for himself?

  “The Resistance made a rescue attempt on the prisoner last night,” Director Chartis said stiffly. “I thought it best to get to the heart of this matter as quickly as possible –”

  “Without even informing me that such an attempt occurred?”

  “I –”

  “No.” The Chief Mage’s voice turned dangerously soft as he took a step forward. “This is my city, my palace, and you do not have leave to make decisions like this without my knowledge. Over the past week I have been made aware of several instances where you have acted on reports without telling me of either the reports or the actions you took. This is unacceptable.”

  “My Lord,” Director Chartis protested, “I was simply trying not to burden you with petty matters –”

  “The fact that you have been using apprentices and low-level mages to magic-wipe citizens is not a petty matter!” The Chief Mage made a swift motion with his arm, and a wave of magic steamrolled over everyone in the room, forcing us all to our knees. Even Fenris was affected, though there was no terror in his yellow eyes, unlike the others. “And neither is the fact that you have taken no action against the guards who nearly killed my prisoner in the kitchen, yet now you have time to interrogate her. And in my audience chambers, no less.” Magic crackled in the air around him, filling the room with dangerous tension and making it hard to breathe. “You have been undermining my authority at every opportunity, and I won’t stand for it anymore. You are dismissed.”

  Chartis’s face reddened as he jerked his gaze up from the floor to the Chief Mage’s head. “You are terminating me from my position? You can’t be serious!”

  “I am.” Iannis ma
de another gesture with his hand, and the magic pushing us down to the floor abruptly dissipated. “Guards, remove this mage from the chamber. He is banished from the palace, and his apprentice will be reassigned.”

  I got to my feet shakily as the guards dragged a raging Chartis out the doors. Elgarion followed behind his master, but not before shooting me a frigid glance that promised retribution – naturally this whole thing was my fault. But Fenris trotted up to me, rubbing his head against my legs, and I reached down to rub his thick brown pelt.

  “You’re alright?”

  “Starving and shaky,” I admitted, taking comfort from the warmth in his body, “But alive.”

  “I’ll get you some food.”

  Nodding, I looked up to meet the Chief Mage’s gaze. If I thought he’d be sympathetic to me, I was wrong – his frigid glare bore into me without mercy, filling me with dread all over again. Was he going to punish me?

  “Thanks to a loyal servant who saw fit to send a report to me, your actions from last night have not gone unnoticed.” He snapped his fingers, and Fenris returned to his side. “You will go back to your room and stay there until I tell you otherwise. If I find you wandering around before I summon you, you will be severely punished. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Yes,” I said, my voice as brittle as the rest of me. As I stood now, I wasn’t sure I would be able to take another blow, physical or mental. So in the interest of self-preservation, I bit back any retort I might have made, executed an about-face, and left the room.

  Hopefully Fenris would get me some food before the Chief Mage saw fit to summon me. Otherwise, the guards might come to my chamber and find me in a coma.

  11

  Servants arrived at my door with food shortly after I was sent to my room, and by the looks of things they were sent by Fenris – they brought in two roasted pheasants, a leg of ham, a heaping plate of potatoes and a bowl of greens that I didn’t examine too closely. I dug into the food with enthusiasm, eager to replenish my energy, and by the time I’d licked every crumb and grease spot from my plates I was full, sleepy, and feeling a lot better about myself.

  Sure, I still had no idea what the Chief Mage was going to do when he summoned me, but since he’d had my shackles removed and given me the ability to recharge, at least I wouldn’t be completely weak and defenseless.

  It was late afternoon, the sun beginning to dip toward the horizon outside my window, and the industrious part of me wanted to train, or study, or explore the palace – anything that might be useful. But since I wasn’t allowed to do any of those things, I did what any self-respecting feline would do in my situation.

  I curled up on my bed and slept.

  When the knock on my door awoke me, night had fallen, painting the room with shadows and moonlight. Yawning, I stretched lazily before I opened the door to find a single guard standing outside my room.

  “What’s up?” I covered my mouth with my hand to muffle another yawn, blinking at the guard.

  “The Chief Mage requests your presence in thirty minutes.” The guard looked me up and down with a disapproving frown. “He sent me to fetch you, so I suggest you make yourself look a little more… presentable.”

  “Presentable?” My first instinct was to tell the guard to fuck off, but then it occurred to me that I’d yet to look at myself in the mirror today. I probably had crusts in my eyes and pillow creases all over my face, not to mention bedhead. “Oh alright,” I snapped. “Give me a few minutes.”

  I slammed the door in his face, then opened it again after I’d grabbed a robe and a change of clothes and headed down to the bathing room, skipping the bathtub in favor of a quick shower. Ten minutes later, I stood in front of the mirror dressed in a red tee and black sweats, feeling ridiculously inadequate as I finger combed my unruly black curls. Thankfully my face looked decent enough – the food and sleep had been enough to heal the simple cuts and bruises from Chartis’s air slaps, and my bottle-green eyes were bright and alert – but I was woefully underdressed for an audience with the Chief Mage.

  Oh please. As if you looked any better the last couple of times you were summoned. If he’d wanted you to wear better clothes, he would have had the servants provide you with some.

  True. Clearly I was letting my hormones get the better of me again. Since when did I care what any man I wasn’t trying to fuck thought of me? But I couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped my lips as I studied my reflection. I’d been without my leathers and weapons for so long now, it was like a different person looking back at me.

  A knock on the door interrupted my pity-party. “Miss Baine, the Chief Mage is waiting.”

  Grumbling, I wrenched the door open and stepped out into the hall. “Take me away, Captain.”

  The guard frowned at me, then led me through the torch-lit corridors in silence. He was nothing like the other guards, who’d been more than happy to taunt, glare and leer at me depending on their mood, and it made me wonder whether Fenris or the Chief Mage had specifically chosen him for that reason. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it – on the one hand it was nice not to have to put up with that shit, but on the other hand it was weird not to hear it.

  Clearly I had masochistic tendencies.

  The guard stopped in front of the doors to the Chief Mage’s study, then opened them and stood back to let me in. “They’re waiting for you, Miss Baine.”

  Sure enough, I stepped in to see Iannis sitting behind his desk, talking with Fenris who was lounging casually in the visitor’s chair in human form. They both rose at the sight of me, Fenris coming around the back of the desk to stand by the Chief Mage’s side. The sight reminded me of where Fenris’s loyalties lay, regardless of how nice he was to me. The door closed behind me, and I swallowed against the ball of nerves in my throat.

  “Hi.” I clasped my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t fidget with them.

  “Hi.” Fenris smiled at me reassuringly, but the Chief Mage remained silent and stony as usual. I held my breath, remembering his promise that I would not escape punishment. What was he going to do to me now?

  “Right.” I clasped my hands in front of me. “So, would you mind telling me what my punishment’s supposed to be? Or did you call me here so you could study me in the hopes of finding new things to criticize?”

  “Punishment?” The Chief Mage waved a hand dismissively. “There is no punishment. I just said that to satisfy our audience. This was simply a test.”

  My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

  “Why don’t you sit down,” Fenris said gently, indicating the chair he had vacated.

  Normally I would have refused, since I’m more comfortable standing, but in my shock I numbly obeyed. “What part of the last twenty-four hours was a test?”

  “All of it.” The Chief Mage took a seat as well, and Fenris remained standing next to him. “Your cousin making the rescue attempt, Chartis ordering you to come to a hearing, all of it.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

  “It had come to my attention that the Director has not been sharing pertinent information with me,” Iannis explained, clasping his hands together and resting them on the blotter covering his desk. “I do have eyes and ears in the city, and I found out through them that your cousin was going to make a rescue attempt last night. I strengthened the wards to make sure that he would fail and left with Fenris to see what would happen during my absence. As I suspected, Director Chartis decided to take matters into his own hands without first alerting me to the problem.”

  A sense of foreboding filled me, and I leaned forward again. “Wait a minute. How did you know Rylan was coming?”

  Iannis waved his hand dismissively. “As I said, I have spies. But if you’re worried as to whether or not I am going after your cousin, I shall not bother just yet. The Resistance is hardly a concern – they’re little more than a scattering of snakes hiding out in their holes in the desert country. There are more important matters requiring my attention at th
is time.”

  I gritted my teeth as my hands curled into fists in my lap. The way he spoke of the Resistance, as if they were nothing more than a cockroach beneath his boot, made my blood heat, and not in a good way. But I decided against mentioning it – I had to pick my battles, and there was no way I was going to win this one, not now anyway.

  Instead, I directed my anger to a more pertinent matter. “You know that both my cousin and I could have been killed last night, right?”

  “A possibility, but highly unlikely since I calibrated the wards to ensure they were not set to kill.” His eyes gleamed as he regarded me. “I find it very interesting that you were able to breach the wards at all to free your cousin and his friends. That part of the plan was not anticipated.”

  I scowled, crossing my arms over my chest. “Well if you hadn’t wanted me to do that, then maybe you shouldn’t have given me access to my magic.”

  The Chief Mage shook his head. “The level of magic I granted you access to should not have been enough to allow you to bypass the reinforced perimeter. It should have barely been enough for you to breach the wards keeping you inside the palace walls.”

  I sighed. “So what? We already know that my magic bursts out when I’m in danger. Is it really a stretch that it would do that when someone I care about is in danger too?”

  The Chief Mage arched a brow. “Has that ever happened before?”

  “Well…” I racked my brain, then deflated when I couldn’t find an example. “No.” Only when my own life was on the line.

  “The bond must have weakened more than you realized,” Fenris remarked to Iannis, studying me with a frown of his own. “Either from your interference or because of something her father has done.”

  “Great.” I stood up, tired of being peered at like a caged mouse, and beyond sick of hearing about my father. “Now that this is all settled, can I go? Like, as in, back to my actual home?”