Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  “What is it?” Bal whispered, edging up to him.

  He stared through the trees. Was there something there? Was it Lins? Tan wouldn’t have any easier a time than Bal if he ran into him up in the mountains, but at least he’d have a reason to be here. “Not sure. Thought I saw something.”

  “What?”

  Tan studied the ground as he crept forward, searching for the strange print he had been following. “Nothing, I guess.”

  Had his mind played tricks on him? He slid forward, eyes focused, ignoring Bal as she spoke to him. There had been something here—he was certain of it. He only had to find proof.

  Then he found the next print.

  Tan glanced behind him and then turned, looking upslope from where they had come. Bal stared at him, a worried look to her face. Had the creature truly been this close to them? Tan turned, kneeling to look at the print, unable to tell how fresh it was.

  “There’s another print.” Tan pushed on Bal’s shoulder, moving her downslope. “I think you should get back to Nor. Follow the tree line to the next stream. You can use it to make your way back to town.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to follow this a little further.”

  She shook her head. “Not without me.”

  “We don’t know what this is. I’ll have an easier time moving in the woods without…” He trailed off before finishing. Bal didn’t need him to insult her too. And she would take anything he said about her slowing him down as an insult.

  “Without what? Me pestering you?”

  Tan sighed. “I was going to say without worrying about you.”

  “Well I wouldn’t want you worrying about me, Tannen Minden!” She stomped off down the slope, making enough noise to scare away anything he might have been tracking. She glanced back at him once, her eyes flashing anger, before disappearing.

  He sighed, hating to anger Bal, but it was for the best. He would worry about her and she would slow him, but it still pained him to upset her. Part of him debated chasing her. Like her, he should return to Nor, but he still hadn’t figured out what made the tracks. It gnawed at him that he hadn’t.

  Tan climbed upslope, watching for more prints. After a dozen paces, he saw another. Now that he’d found them, he could clearly follow the tracks. The prints wound across the face of the slope, never moving completely upslope or down. No further howls echoed but the sounds of the forest still didn’t return. Nothing resonated with his senses. Gradually, the sun dipped below the tree line. Soon he would need to abandon his tracking.

  Then he found a second set of prints.

  They were as unusual as the first, though in a different way. Long, almost as if made by a man, but with a strange dimple near the heel on each. When the print led over a rocky stretch of ground, he realized the dimple came from the nail of a sharp claw that had left scratches along the stone.

  The uneasy sensation twisted his stomach and sweat slicked his palms. The original tracks mingled now with the new prints, as if they traveled together.

  Was he the hunter or the hunted?

  Tan looked around, the area unfamiliar. He focused on slowing his breathing, controlling his emotion, and extending his senses into the forest as his father had long ago taught him. Nothing moved in the forest around him. Something to that feeling bothered him.

  Turning toward home, he felt an intrusion upon his senses like an itch at the back of his mind, a sense he’d learned to trust over the years, and froze. Any sudden movement might frighten the animal—either to run or to attack. He didn’t want to take any chances. Starting forward, he moved cautiously, and the sensation intensified. Tan scanned the forest for the source of his unease, but saw nothing.

  Then the strange cry suddenly rang out through the forest, nearer than before. Near enough that the sound hurt his ears.

  He ran. His steps were careful at first, but after another sharp braying sounded even closer, he tore through the forest. Nearing a rocky outcropping, he climbed up for a better vantage as the terrible howl came again.

  It sounded almost upon him. Tan hurried up the rock and scraped his knees in his haste. He swore softly, knowing better than to press his luck tracking so far from home armed with only his bow.

  The creature howled again, this time from behind him.

  How did it get behind him?

  That meant two of the creatures. Or more. Could this be a pack?

  The idea terrified him. What of Bal? She should be far down the slope by now, but he knew her well enough to know she might have turned back to check on him. He prayed her anger carried her all the way back to Nor.

  He couldn’t run. The steep slope and the treacherous footing made him an easy target. On the rock, he was too visible and could be easily surrounded if facing a pack.

  That left up.

  The nearest tree was his best option. The huge oak had no low hanging branches that would allow another creature an easy climb. Tan scrambled up the rough trunk, tearing his knees more in the process, before settling into the crook of one of the large branches. He pulled his bow off his shoulder and nocked an arrow, setting it to the string without tension. Nothing moved below him.

  Tan listened, sensing the forest. He struggled against his racing heart, but sensed another presence among the trees, one he didn’t recognize. Another cry came, much closer.

  A low growl answered, almost below him.

  His arms prickled with a chill. They had his scent.

  A smoky haze appeared near the base of the tree. With it came a dry heat pressing up at him, like a fire burning. A fetid stench wafted up that he didn’t recognize. A flash of dark fur moved within the haze.

  He brought his bow up and aimed, loosing an arrow into the smoke. A snarling yelp told him he’d hit.

  Tan waited. Maybe he could scare the creature off. With enough arrows, maybe the creatures would decide he wasn’t worth it.

  The heat pressing up the tree increased. Already hot, the day became unbearable. Several distinct voices howled below him, joining in a chorus. Definitely a pack.

  The smoke began to obscure the forest floor. Heat left his skin feeling raw. He crawled further up the tree, hoping to get away from the fire, but the heat followed him.

  Tan pushed down a rising panic as his father had taught. Steady his breathing. Use his senses. Listen, always listen. The answer would come.

  This time it didn’t.

  The next tree was too far to offer any hope of jumping. Upper branches wouldn’t support him if he crawled higher. And still the heat pressed toward him. What made the heat?

  Each breath became painful. The skin on his arms turned red. If he couldn’t get away, he would burn.

  He closed his eyes again, forcing himself to focus. A wave of anxious nausea rolled through him that he ignored. A quiet sound whistled in his ears, slowly intensifying like a howling wind. The steady gust of wind picked up speed as it blew through the tree, a gale like the area’s namesake. It blew faster, tearing through the trees.

  Tan clung to his branch.

  The heat blew away with it, disappearing like a candle snuffed out. Flashes of fur prowled around the base of the tree. For a moment, it seemed the heat fought the wind, then the animals howled again before streaking up the slope of the mountain and out of view.

  The wind continued, its familiar pressure a relief. He shivered uncontrollably.

  He climbed down carefully. Near the bottom of the tree, the ground looked darkened and scorched. The air smelled of char and sulfur. Even though the wind had finally returned, heat still clung to the air. Tan didn’t linger and started down the slope toward Nor. His heart didn’t slow until he was back in familiar land.

  He found Bal about halfway down the mountain face sitting atop a flat rock, staring upslope. Her jaw fixed in a stern expression and she leaned forward, trying to look fierce.

  “I thought you’d be back in Nor by now.” He tried to hide the relief in his voice.

&nb
sp; Bal frowned at him, jutting her jaw forward. “Maybe I won’t show you what I discovered, then.”

  Tan hesitated, uncertain he could stomach tracking anything else today. Whatever had happened, he felt lucky to survive. He needed to reach Nor and find Cobin. He’d lived here long enough, and he’d know what to do. Whatever creature Tan had found didn’t belong here. The next time, it might not only be sheep missing.

  “What did you discover? Something about Lins?” he asked.

  Her jaw relaxed and a playful smile slipped onto her face. “Not Lins. Better.” She jumped up from the rock and started back up the mountain. “Come on, Tan!” she shouted as she ran.

  Tan looked up the slope. The strange hounds were still up there, and with the fading light they needed to return, not risk running through the woods on another of Bal’s whims. “Bal!”

  She didn’t answer. Tan swore to himself and hurried after her, determined to drag her back to town if needed.

  She stopped overlooking a slight ravine where two smaller peaks merged and turned back, a smile spreading across her face. “Well?”

  Tan stared, uncertain what she wanted him to see. “I don’t see anything.”

  She tapped her head and then pointed out toward the ravine, a narrow pass through the mountains. “How can you not see them?”

  Tan strained to see through the trees into the ravine. Finally, another sound carried on the wind. A light tinkling, like many tiny bells ringing, carried softly up to them from the pass. Only then did the fear that had been sitting in his chest since he first heard the strange howls finally lift.

  Though it had been many years, he recognized the sound and felt a surge of excitement. The Aeta had returned.

  2

  Glimpse of the Aeta

  The caravan slowly rumbled through the lower part of the valley, moving upon a barely visible trail. Brightly colored wagons flashed through the heavy foliage. Men and women sat atop the wagons, steering them through the valley, their clothes as brightly colored as the wagons they drove. Small bells hung from posts and it was their quiet tinkling that preceded them, a distinctive musical sound, and one that sparked memories of the last Aeta visit.

  Tan could count on one hand the visits during his lifetime and remembered each vividly, the last nearly five summers ago. How had Bal even known what the Aeta looked like? She couldn’t have been more than four or five at the time.

  The Aeta were traders and different than the typical merchants traveling through Nor. Visits were almost festival-like when the Aeta came. People from nearby farmsteads would travel to Nor to trade with the Aeta, visit with friends, or simply come to see what new exotic items the Aeta had for trade.

  “Where do you think they travel from?” Bal asked with barely restrained excitement.

  Tan stared, imagining the direction of their wagons. “There is nothing but mountains this way.” But that wasn’t quite right. Over the mountains and through the passes lay Incendin, though none in the kingdoms traveled to Incendin. The barrier between the two nations prevented all travel. “And Incendin,” he added.

  “Incendin? How would they have come from Incendin? Shapers stopped that long ago. That’s how the war was ended.”

  Tan laughed as Bal lectured to him. “I know how the war ended. But no one travels there.” The Aeta made the earlier fear a distant memory.

  Bal smiled, the annoyance she’d had with him now gone. They crept closer to the wagons, finding the small path the Aeta followed. Foliage covered it, but enough stone remained to mark the roadway it once had been. Tan didn’t know a path into Incendin ever existed here.

  The light tinkling of the Aeta bells grew louder as they neared. They hid among the trees as the caravan rolled closer. The Aeta were a happy people, exuberant traders, and part of the excitement with their visits was the carnival atmosphere they brought with them. But at this vantage, a tight expression strained the dirty faces of the Aeta and a dour mood emanated from them.

  “Maybe they were in Doma!” Bal whispered.

  Tan shook his head. More than just a mood, but also a darkness seemed to follow them. “If they were, then it was long ago. And I’m not sure how they’d get there from here.”

  “How do you know they didn’t just come through Incendin?”

  Beyond Incendin lay Doma, with Chenir to the north. The simple geographic barrier Incendin presented kept contact with their people limited in this part of the kingdoms. The kingdoms, once the separate nations of Vatten, Ter, Nara, and Galen, had been bound together nearly a thousand years ago and ruled by the king in the capital of Ethea. Within the kingdoms, the ports of Vatten imported goods from Doma and Chenir, but rarely did they make it this far. When they did, the cost was prohibitive to all but the manor lords. It was the fancy Doman silver Bal wanted to see, but he knew his mother would be more interested in Chenir woolens.

  “The barrier,” he reminded her. A shaping so powerful it kept the kingdoms safe from Incendin. Not much was said to be able to pass through, at least not easily. Watching the Aeta, seeing the darkness on their faces, the edge of nervousness he’d felt higher in the hills had returned.

  Bal glanced from him to the Aeta before shaking her head. “All I see are Aeta.”

  Tan looked away from her, wishing he could see the world through her eyes. As the caravan neared, one of the Aeta caught his eye. A woman sat straight-backed atop a bright red wagon. Her dark eyes darted around the forest. Full lips tilted in a slight frown and pale yellow hair pushed behind her ears, flowing down to her mid back. She was beautiful.

  Tan stared and found himself sliding out from behind the trees. Bal grabbed at him too late. He stood openly in view of the caravan. The Aeta woman looked over and locked eyes with him.

  She seemed unconcerned that he stared at her, hidden within the forest. Her lips parted slightly and the corners twitched, threatening to smile. One long-fingered hand touched the side of her face delicately.

  Tan felt a brief fluttering within his chest. He’d never seen anyone like her.

  “Tan?”

  Tan shook himself, as if awakening from a dream, and looked over at his friend. “What?”

  Bal pulled on his sleeve. “We need to get back.”

  He glanced at the sky. By the time they returned it would be getting dark. “Now you want to return?”

  “We need to be there when the Aeta arrive!”

  The train of wagons continued slowly past them. Tan made little effort to hide. The woman stared until her wagon was no longer visible, turning as she passed to keep her focus on him. When the wagons had finally disappeared, he said, “We should hurry.”

  “So we can see the Aeta arrive?”

  “So you can. I need to see Cobin first.”

  Bal frowned at him, as if disappointed he would not be there with her as the Aeta arrived in town. “Don’t tell him I was up here.”

  Tan shook his head and chuckled as Bal started down the slope toward Nor.

  Tan followed after her, unable to completely shake the vision of the beautiful Aeta from his mind.

  The hike back down the mountain went quickly. The heat of the day slowly faded and a soft breeze filtered through the trees, cooling the sweat upon his face. Weeks had passed since a steady wind had blown through Galen and he welcomed its return. In spite of it, sweat still dripped from his brow.

  Tan guided them through the woods downward and to the west, knowing almost instinctively how to find his way back. Occasionally, evidence of the strange creatures he’d tracked triggered a memory of the fear he had felt following them. Each time, he felt a little flash of anxiety, a nervousness in the forest unusual for him. The sight of the strange prints only urged him forward faster.

  Bal walked ahead of him, humming as she hurried toward home. Every so often she would dart ahead before returning to him. Tan suspected she searched for the Aeta but they saw no other sign of them. He didn’t know the road they followed, but suspected it led into town. Other than Nor, no oth
er towns were this deep into Galen.

  As the sun drifted toward the tops of the trees they saw the first signs of Nor. Areas where the woodcutters had felled the trees opened up the forest and the pale sky flashed through. In the distance to the east, above the mountain peaks, dark clouds threatened rain and occasional lightning flashes streaked across the sky. A slow rumble of thunder followed much later. Given the weather recently, chances were good that Nor would not even see any rain.

  The cleared stretches of trees became more frequent. Finally Tan reached the main road. Bal ran ahead, waving as she hurried toward town. Probably to tell some of the other children about the Aeta. He had no doubt she would find him later. Since the time Tan had intervened and kept her from being bullied, she’d clung to him.

  Tan continued on to Cobin’s farm, pausing near the sheep pen to examine the prints there. They were the reason he’d ventured up into the mountains in the first place. Now he saw the evidence of the same beast encircling the pen, and probably at least three of them by the different sizes.

  “Tan? Any reason you’re crawling on the ground near the sheep?”

  Cobin stood behind him. The large man was only ten years his senior but had a weathered face with gray already speckling his dark beard. Tan had known him almost his entire life.

  He motioned toward the prints as he stood. “I found these prints this morning.”

  Cobin grunted before stepping over to him. A large axe hung loosely in his hand and his face was streaked with dirt. “Wolf?”

  “Not these. Look at the toes. Too small for our wolves.”

  Cobin squatted and stared at the dusty soil, his dark eyes squinting in concentration. He grunted again. “Then what?”

  “I followed them up the mountain—”

  Cobin interrupted him with a deep laugh. “That explains it, then.”

  “Explains what?”

  “The scuttlebutt coming from the lord’s house.”

  Tan looked at Cobin before staring off toward Nor, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Mother?” He already knew the answer.