Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  He stared at her, trying to figure out what it all meant. “You are asking me to go against the Council Leader and to commit the greatest crime of all—murdering a sorcerer,” he said slowly. “You do realize the consequences of this?”

  She nodded, her eyes burning with some strange emotion. “I know what I am asking you to do. If you do this for me, Barson, I will be forever in your debt.” Her hand still held his own, her tight grip betraying her desperation.

  Barson did his best to conceal his reaction to her words. “We will be in this together then, right?” he asked quietly, curving his other palm around her cheek. “If Ganir becomes my enemy as a result, you will be on my side?”

  “Always.” Augusta held his gaze without flinching.

  “Then consider it done,” Barson said. He could hardly believe this turn of events. He had been wondering how to get Augusta to join his cause, and she just jumped into bed with him herself—figuratively this time.

  Her face lightened, and her grip on his hand eased. Standing up on tiptoes, she kissed him softly on the lips. “Be careful,” she murmured, reaching up to stroke the side of his face. “Make it look like she resisted so violently that you and your men had no choice but to kill her. It might even turn out to be true.”

  “Just how powerful is this sorceress?” Barson asked, his mind turning to the upcoming quest despite the distraction of Augusta’s touch. He didn’t like the idea of killing a woman, but he suppressed the feeling. A sorceress could be just as powerful as her male counterparts—and potentially deadlier than a hundred of his men. He remembered how useful Augusta had been during the peasant rebellion, and he knew that it would require more than a few swords and arrows to win this fight.

  “She’s powerful,” Augusta admitted quietly, looking up at him. “I don’t know just how powerful she is, but I want you to be ready for the worst. I will also prepare some spells to make sure you and your soldiers are well-protected, both physically and mentally, against whatever attacks she might launch against you.”

  “That would be helpful,” Barson said. Although Dara had already given him some protective spells, Augusta was a stronger sorceress, and he would welcome the additional protection for his men.

  “I also have a gift for you.” Taking a step back, she reached into a pocket in her skirt and took out what looked like a pendant. “This will enable me to see everything that happens in a special mirror,” she said, handing it to him.

  Barson took the pendant and put it on his commode. “I will wear it when we depart,” he promised. It would be somewhat limiting to have his lover watching him, but it would also strengthen their alliance.

  For now, though, he wanted to reinforce their bond in a different way. Reaching for Augusta, he drew her toward him.

  “You must let me come.” Dara gave him an imploring look. “Barson, let me go with you.”

  “For the hundredth time, you’re not going.” Barson knew his tone was sharp, and he softened it a bit before continuing. “It’s too dangerous, sis. If anything were to happen to you . . .” He couldn’t even complete that horrifying thought. “Besides, you know you’re far too important to our cause. If you got hurt, who would continue recruiting for us? You know what happened when Ganir found out I was meeting with those five sorcerers.”

  His sister stared at him in frustration. “I would be fine—”

  “No, there’s no guarantee of that.” Barson shook his head. “I will not put you in danger like that. Besides, you know that if we are to overtake the Council, we have to be able to fight them. We need to start testing the waters now, to see how my army would fare against one of them. This is a perfect opportunity because we just have one sorceress to deal with, not the entire lot of them.”

  She still looked unhappy, but she knew better than to argue further. Once Barson made up his mind, there was very little anyone could do to change it.

  “So did you have a chance to look at the defensive spells Augusta put in place?” Barson asked, changing the subject.

  Dara nodded. “She did a superb job. She must really care about you. The spell that she put on your armor—and on your men in general—will protect you against most elemental attacks, as well as against many that could tamper with your mind. Her anti-Shriek defense, in particular, is a masterpiece.”

  Barson smiled. He liked the idea of Augusta caring about him.

  “Why doesn’t she come with you?” Dara asked, looking at him curiously. “If this mission is so important to her, why doesn’t she come along?”

  “And openly go against Ganir?” Barson’s smile widened. “No, Augusta is too smart to do that. There is a Council meeting coming up, and if she’s not there, Ganir will know immediately something is going on. My men have explicit orders from the Council Leader to go and capture this sorceress, and if she happens to resist arrest . . .” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Well, these things happen. It would be much tougher to explain a dead sorceress if Augusta were there—or you, for that matter.”

  “But you’re bringing almost your entire army,” Dara protested, “not the few men that Ganir suggested. Won’t he be suspicious of that fact?”

  Barson chuckled. “How many men I take on a military mission is entirely my prerogative. Ganir doesn’t have any say in that.”

  “Do you think he did it on purpose again?” Dara asked. “Telling you to take just a few of your best men while sending you against a powerful sorceress?”

  “I’m not sure,” Barson admitted. “It sounds like Ganir genuinely needs this sorceress, but at the same time, I know he’d love to have me and my closest men perish in battle. Maybe it’s a win-win proposition for him. If we bring her, he gets what he wants. And if we die during this mission, he will get rid of what he perceives to be a threat—and there will be other opportunities for him to capture her.”

  “I still wonder why he hasn’t killed us all outright,” Dara mused, “or gone to the Council with his suspicions.”

  “Because I don’t think he realizes the full extent of our plans,” Barson said. “He probably thinks I’m just an overambitious soldier with fantasies of grandeur—”

  “That is what you are,” Dara interrupted, smiling.

  “No.” Barson shook his head. “I don’t do fantasies. I make plans. Ganir, like all the rest of them, underestimates us. But even if he does have his suspicions, he’s too smart to act on them openly. He doesn’t know how many supporters we have, or how deep the conspiracy runs. If he openly accuses us of treason, my men will not stand idly by—nor will those we convinced to join our cause. There will be war—a real civil war—and I don’t think Ganir is ready for that.”

  Dara frowned, an anxious look appearing on her face.

  “What is it, sis? Are you doubting our plans again?”

  “I can’t help it,” Dara admitted. “Even with all our allies, going up against the Council sounds like an impossible mission.”

  “You’re right.” Barson smiled at her. “We’re not ready yet. However, if we can get Augusta to join us, that would significantly increase our odds of success.”

  “Do you really think she would join us? She’s part of the Council.”

  “She has already joined us; she just doesn’t realize it yet. Her request goes against my orders—orders that come directly from the Council Leader—which means that we are now both involved in a treasonous conspiracy.”

  Dara considered that for a moment. “Yes, I could see that. And with her on our side, things would be different.”

  Barson nodded. He could already see it—the aftermath of the eventual power shift. He would be king and Augusta his queen. Both of them of noble blood, as rulers should be.

  “Be careful on this mission, Barson.” Dara looked unusually worried. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  Barson gave his sister a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, sis. All will be well. It’s just one sorceress. How bad could it get?”

  And walking out of Dara�
��s house, he headed back to the Tower, where his men were already preparing to depart.

  38

  Gala

  On the day of the Coliseum games, Gala made the decision to venture out of the inn again. Over the past three days, she had done every chore imaginable, from emptying chamber pots (at which point she truly understood the concept of disgust) to making cheese out of the milk that farmers delivered to the inn every morning. While most of the tasks were interesting in their own way—and Gala turned out to be surprisingly good at them—she was beginning to feel caged, a prisoner in the inn where Maya and Esther insisted they stay while waiting for Blaise.

  “I am going to attend the games today,” she told Esther, ignoring the anxious expression that immediately appeared on the old woman’s face. “They say the Coliseum is closing after this, and I would like to see the games at least once.”

  “I don’t think you’d like those games, child,” Esther said, frowning. “Besides, what if someone recognizes you?”

  Gala took a deep breath. “I understand and respect your concern,” she said, determined to allay her guardians’ fears. “I considered it thoroughly, and I think it’s safe. It has been several days since the market, and nobody has recognized me thus far. The disguise you’ve given me is such that nobody even looks at me twice. I’m just a peasant girl working at the inn, and nobody will think anything different if I attend the games today. I’ll wear the shawl to the Coliseum as well.”

  Esther sighed. “Child, you are obviously a very talented sorceress and you seem to be getting wiser with every hour that goes by, but Blaise wants us to stay hidden. Here at the inn, we’re just a couple of old women with a young niece who’s trying to earn a little coin by helping out. I worry about you in a public venue, child. Things seem to happen around you that I don’t understand. I don’t know how you do what you do, but we can’t draw any more attention to ourselves.”

  “I understand,” Gala said soothingly. “But trust me, I have considered all the positives and negatives, and I strongly feel that it will be worth it for me to go there. This kind of event is a rare opportunity, and I must see it for myself since it’s the last time the games are taking place.”

  Esther shook her head in resignation. “Arguing with you is like arguing with Blaise,” she muttered, putting on her own shawl. “You two are impossible with all your smooth talk and reason. I don’t know what all those positives and negatives are, but I do know it’s a bad idea to go. Obviously, I can’t stop you any more than I can stop a force of nature.”

  Gala just smiled in response, knowing she’d gotten her way.

  As the three of them were walking out of the inn, she wondered how one would literally stop a force of nature. She’d read about the horrible ocean storms that surrounded Koldun, and now she was curious if those could be stopped. The mainland was protected from these storms by a ridge of mountains all around, but on rare occasions, the storms still crossed the mountains and caused many deaths. Of course, if the mountains could stop the storms, a proper—if complex—spell could likely do the same.

  “So far, so good,” Maya said as they passed by a crowd of young people and no one paid them any attention. “Maybe you were right, Gala. Just keep your shawl on at all times.”

  Gala nodded, pulling the shawl tighter around her head. She didn’t like the feel of the scratchy material, but she accepted the necessity of wearing it. After all, if it hadn’t been for her own actions at the market, she wouldn’t have needed the disguise outside the inn at all.

  The Coliseum was the most majestic structure Gala had ever seen. Maya had managed to get them seats toward the bottom of the huge amphitheater, closer to the stage, and Gala could barely contain her excitement as the start of the games approached.

  A drumbeat began at first, followed by some strange, wonderfully energetic music. Gala was mesmerized. A gate slowly opened at the bottom of the amphitheater, and a dozen barrels rolled out, with people balancing on top of them, gripping the barrels with their bare feet. The crowd cheered, and Gala watched in fascination as the acrobats began to perform incredible feats on top of those barrels, coordinating their actions with stunning precision.

  More performers came out of the gate, carrying large baskets of fruit that Gala recognized as melons. They threw the melons at the acrobats, and the performers caught the fruit and started juggling it, all the while moving in precise circles all around the arena.

  Staring at the intricate flight path of the juggled fruit, Gala felt her mind going into an unusual half-absent, half-euphoric state. She was seeing the exact mathematical patterns that governed the trajectories of the flying melons, along with ones required to keep the barrels balanced, all the while the musical beat and melody had its own harmonious set of vibrations that the jugglers were in sync with. It was so amazing she almost felt like she was one with the acrobats—like she could walk out there, ride a barrel, and juggle a dozen fruits herself to the music.

  Grinning, she watched the acrobats performing their tricks, happy that she hadn’t listened to Maya and Esther about attending the event. If she hadn’t seen this, she was sure she would’ve regretted it for life.

  By the time the next act came out, Gala was laughing and thoroughly enjoying herself like the rest of the crowd. To her surprise, instead of people, the next performers were bears—wild animals she’d read about in one of Blaise’s books.

  Two large beasts rolled out on barrels. It was amusing, and at first, Gala continued laughing—until she saw a man with a thick mustache standing in the middle of the stage. He was cracking a long whip all around the bears, and every time he did so, the animals seemed to flinch, reacting to the sharp sound.

  Frowning, Gala realized that the bears didn’t enjoy being there—that, unlike the acrobats, they didn’t thrive on the attention of the crowd. In fact, from what she could tell, all they wanted was to get off those silly barrels and rest, but every time one of them faltered, the ugly crack of the whip sounded, and the animals continued rolling around on stage.

  “Why do they make those bears do that?” she whispered to Esther.

  “Because it is fun to watch?” Esther whispered back.

  “I don’t like it,” Gala muttered under her breath, unhappy that the animals were forced to do something that clearly went against their nature.

  “Should we leave then?” Maya asked hopefully.

  “No.” Gala shook her head. “I want to see what happens next.”

  After the bears left the arena, the next act was that of a man swallowing fire, followed by a group of young women dancing in skimpy, colorful costumes. Gala greatly enjoyed all of it, relieved that no more animals were involved.

  And just as she was about to decide that the Coliseum games were the best entertainment she could imagine, a voice echoed throughout the arena, cutting through the excited chatter of the crowd. “Ladies and Gentlemen, now is the moment you have all been waiting for.” There was a drumroll. “I give you . . . the lions!”

  The crowd went silent, all their attention focused on the stage. Gala waited to see what would emerge as well, some intuition making her stomach tighten unpleasantly.

  The gate opened again, and a dozen men dressed in heavy armor came out, dragging heavy chains behind them. At the other end of those chains were the lions—the most beautiful creatures Gala had ever seen.

  The chains were hooked to choking collars with spikes that were digging deeply into the animals’ necks. In obvious pain, roaring and screaming, the lions were forced to walk toward the middle of the arena. Once more than a dozen lions were there, the armored men attached the chains to the hooks in the ground and hurried away, poking the lions with long spears to keep the animals from attacking them. This seemed to infuriate the beasts even more, and their roars grew in volume, causing some women in the crowd to squeal in excitement.

  Her horror and disgust growing with every moment, Gala watched as the gates opened yet again, letting in a group of men into
the arena. Unlike the guards before, these men were armed with nothing more than a few short, rusty-looking swords. They stumbled out into the arena, several of them tripping over their own feet, and Gala realized that they had been pushed out—that they didn’t want to be there any more than the poor lions. The expressions on the men’s faces were those of fear and panic.

  Gala’s heart jumped into her throat as two lions began to stalk one of the men in the arena. He was backing away, waving his sword at them, his motions desperate and clumsy—and Gala realized that this was the entertainment.

  The lions and the people were about to fight to the death.

  A rage more powerful than anything Gala had ever felt before started building inside her. It filled her until all she could see, all she could focus on, was the terrifying scene about to unfold.

  “Stop,” she whispered, barely knowing what she was saying. With the corner of her eye, she could see Maya and Esther looking at her worriedly, feel them tugging at her sleeve, trying to lead her away, but it was as though her feet grew roots. She was frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch the hideous spectacle below.

  A loud roar, then a blur of yellow . . . A lion pounced, tackling a man to the ground, and Gala felt the now-familiar sensation of losing control, of letting that other, unknown part of herself take over. She was vaguely aware that something inside her was calculating the distance from her seat to the middle of the arena—and then she was out of her seat, floating toward her destination.

  Everything seemed to grow silent. Even the lions stopped roaring, turning their heads to watch the amazing sight of a human girl flying through the air. It was so quiet, Gala could hear the clinking of chains as the lions moved toward the center of the arena where she was about to land, leaving their prey without a second glance.