Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  Lins Alles stood before him. Rain and muck slicked his black hair from his head. A heavy cloak hung over his shoulders. He held an unsheathed sword casually in his hand. In spite of that, a nervous twitch pulled at his eyes and they flicked around him, searching the darkness.

  “Lins,” Tan said, completely surprised. After seeing only the Aeta within the cage and no signs of anyone from Nor, he had not expected to see anyone he knew, least of all Lins Alles. Yet here he stood, blocking his way. “What are you doing here?”

  Lins sneered at him. “I would ask you the same.” He flickered a glance at the Aeta and a half-smile turned his mouth. “I’d tell you to leave the food alone, but the hounds will only capture them again anyway.”

  The Aeta cowered away from him. “What are you doing?” Tan asked, confused. “You’re working with them?”

  Lins shrugged. “Incendin will come one way or another,” he answered, his eyes growing distant. “My father didn’t understand. I brought it to him first but he didn’t believe me. Said Incendin’s time had passed. Now…now I’ll rule much more than a manor house.”

  Tan didn’t think Lins would live long enough to see that time. “What happened in Nor?”

  Lins shook his head and his eyes snapped back into focus. “Does it matter?”

  Tan shook his head, unable to wrap his head around what he heard. Lins had betrayed the people of Nor. His friends. His mother. Everyone he had ever known.

  “Are you the reason the lisincend crossed the barrier? The reason they destroyed Nor?”

  Lins just blinked.

  Rage worked through him. The arm holding the knife shook. “Are you, Lins?”

  Lins’s face went blank. “Back in the cage. All of you.” He waved his sword.

  Amia stepped between them. The rage within Tan simply vanished. Tan looked at Lins and saw an expression of sadness and regret, mixed with fear.

  “Go. Now.” She spoke with power and authority. Energy seemed to sizzle in the air.

  “The lisincend,” Lins stammered. “I didn’t know. It was only to be Incendin shapers. No hounds. No lisincend. No one was to be hurt.” He shook his head and his eyes bulged, as if surprised by his admission. “I didn’t know.”

  Amia frowned, tilting her head as she considered him a moment longer. “No,” she said, agreeing. “I sense that you did not.” She sighed and fixed him with a firm gaze. “Go. You will not forget what you did.” The words rang with command.

  Lins started whimpering. Tears streamed down his face. Looking to Tan with terror, he dropped his sword before running from the square. Tan watched him leave, uncertain of what had just happened.

  “What was that?” he asked Amia.

  She shook her head. “We should go.”

  He led them through Velminth toward the stream at the northern edge of town, hugging the shadows of the buildings as much as they could. The muddy streets slowed them. Tan had them step carefully, praying for silence each time the mud sucked his foot into the ground. Finally, the stream was visible.

  As they neared the rocks, a terrible sound, like that of hot coals exploding in a fire, came from behind them. Heat rolled over him, enveloping him.

  A surge of fear stole through him.

  He did not turn, knowing without looking what he’d find.

  The lisincend had returned.

  18

  An Impossible Request

  Heat blasted them. Tan ducked, but it made no difference. “Hurry!”

  When they were about halfway to the stream leading out of Velminth, the temperature of the air doubled. A dizzying sense of movement spun around him, and the pressure of heat forced him to stop.

  “Hand me the girl.” The words were like a crackling fire.

  Tan turned. One of the lisincend stood behind them, blocking the road. A shimmer of heat surrounded him, creating a hazy veil.

  “I will not.” The Mother stepped forward, straightening her back as she faced the lisincend.

  It laughed, the sound like steam hissing. “You have no choice in this.”

  The Mother pushed Amia behind Tan, stepping backward as she did. Her eyes darted to the side and fixed briefly on the small stream. “Why do you do this?”

  She tried to buy time. There was nothing they could do against the lisincend other than buy time. But for what? No one was coming to help them.

  “You are not to question why, Aeta.”

  “My people have been nothing but peaceful with Incendin,” the Mother answered.

  Another laugh. “Peace is no longer enough. The lost are nothing, will be nothing. Give me the girl.”

  The Mother shook her head. “You know I cannot. Why not let us go? You can report that you never found us.” She pressed back a step as she spoke. The rest of the Aeta all moved with her, taking the slow and cautious step deeper into the shadows.

  “Report?” the lisincend growled.

  There was a sudden flare of heat, scorching. Tan’s throat went dry. His skin felt like it blistered, as if standing in an open flame. He wished for nothing more than the rain to return.

  The Mother smiled. “I mean no offense.” She took a slow step to her left. “I assumed Fur commanded the lisincend. If that has changed—”

  The creature only laughed again with the strange hissing way that it did. “You cannot play me like you seduce these villagers, Mother of the Lost.”

  There was a strange click in its throat.

  The Aeta closest to the lisincend burst into flames. Fire engulfed her quickly, burning as if from inside, ripping through her flesh and clothes. Everyone took a step back. Someone cried.

  The woman’s scream, a horrible cry splitting the night, ended abruptly as she crumpled to the ground in a pile of char and ash.

  Tan struggled not to vomit. How was such a thing even possible?

  Pushing Amia before him, he tried to move away, but there was nowhere for them to go.

  One of the hounds sat not far from them, blocking escape to the stream. Bright eyes stared at him. Tan almost imagined a hungry smile across its lips. He stopped, turning to see another hound watching them near the edge of town. As if waiting for him to run.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to Amia.

  She looked up at him, her wide eyes softening. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Tan. You did what you could.”

  In any other time, he would have melted at the way she said his name. Worse than being unable to do anything, he’d probably hastened her death. He looked away in shame, unable to meet her gaze. “This is my fault.”

  She reached a hand up to his face and forced him to meet her eyes. She laughed softly. The sound surprised him, so out of place with the terror he felt. “The fault lies with Incendin. You give us the hope of freedom.”

  A knot formed in his throat. Tan couldn’t look away from her.

  “Where is the girl?” the lisincend asked again.

  The Mother breathed heavily as she looked deliberately at the fallen Aeta. “There is no girl such as you seek.” She took another careful step toward the stream.

  The lisincend flared heat again. It was angry. Was that part of the Mother’s plan?

  There was another click, followed by a slow hiss. Another Aeta burst into flames.

  They screamed and the rest took a quick step back, trying to move across the dark jumble of weeds at the edge of Velminth toward the stream.

  The unnatural fire of the immolated Aeta briefly illuminated the night. She writhed in pain until stopping, moving no more.

  “How many more of your people will you sacrifice for her?”

  “How much longer will you defy the Accords?” One foot touched the stream, barely sinking into the water.

  The lisincend laughed again. “How much longer will you cling to them? The day soon comes when the world will see the last of the Lost.” It clicked again. Another of the Aeta shrieked as flames engulfed him.

  The lisincend let the fire linger, reveling in his torture of the Aeta, slo
wly burning the man to a char. The heat around it faded, clearing the haze and the veil. A smile could almost be imagined tugging its lips.

  Only three Aeta remained.

  “You will leave this town.”

  Amia spoke behind him, startling him with the intensity and command in her words. A beautiful anger hung about her. She blazed with energy.

  “You will leave these lands.”

  Power from her words thrummed through him, past him, and directed at the horrible creature. The lisincend did not answer.

  “You will honor the Accords.”

  Amia hammered each word in such a way that Tan felt them tear through him. He could not imagine defying her request.

  “Get out of my head!” The lisincend flared heat and disappeared behind the shimmering veil.

  Another Aeta vanished in a flash of flame and smoke, dying without a word, leaving only the Mother and Amia. Amia flinched behind him and he felt her stagger, nearly falling. He turned to help keep her on her feet.

  She stared past him, toward the lisincend. Her eyes flashed fury at the creature. Her forehead was reddened, almost as if slapped, and her hair smelled like it had been singed, as well. Amia took his hand. Tan held it, too afraid to run.

  The lisincend turned its rage on the Mother. Heat rose around her. The veil around the lisincend parted, splitting like a curtain in the shimmering haze, and the creature stepped forward, grabbing the Mother and lifting her chin. Her face sizzled and smoked as it touched her. Somehow, she did not flinch. The scent of burnt flesh hung pungent in the air.

  “You still deny that she exists?” He stroked a long nail along her cheek, leaving a blistering streak where it touched.

  The Mother kept her expression blank and did not meet the lisincend’s gaze. Her mouth mumbled something silently and she stared down at the stream she had barely touched. Amia pressed into his back, her soft hand reaching up to his shoulder and squeezing. Tan felt her shaking.

  The lisincend’s lips parted and a long red tongue darted out. “She will help Incendin find great power,” it growled. The lisincend continued the stroking motion along the Mother’s cheek, searing her flesh with each flicker of its nail, leaving blistered and burned skin behind.

  “You know nothing of power,” the Mother whispered. “Only fear. Report that to Fur when you grovel at his feet.” She tilted her head back defiantly.

  A low rumbling came from deep within the creature. Smoke started at the Mother’s feet. The fire spread gradually, a controlled crawl. Tan couldn’t imagine the agony the Mother felt. Yet she said nothing to the lisincend.

  Then she turned. Her eyes met his, growing wide. Her breathing quickened. “Protect her,” she whispered to him.

  He felt compelled to answer. The look on her face begged his help, but what could he do? “I can’t do anything.”

  The Mother smiled then and a wave of compassion flowed over him, through him, as it surrounded Amia. “You can do more than you know,” she said. Her eyes widened as the fire spread up past her waist. “For the sake of your people and mine, protect her, son of Zephra.”

  The last was said so quietly that Tan found himself leaning to hear over the crackling flames rising up her body, enveloping her clothing and spreading to her hair. Heat and smoke and ash filled the air. Tan coughed and leaned away, pressing Amia back with him as he did.

  Finally, the Mother screamed. The lisincend’s mouth twisted in a horrible smile.

  The Mother fell in a pile of burning ash and bones as the flames consuming her leapt brighter, fed by some invisible fuel. Amia pulled on his shoulder and he turned to look at her.

  Her face was a mixture of emotions. Rage. Sadness. And disappointment.

  “Give her to me,” the lisincend commanded. “I am no longer amused.”

  Tan stepped back, shaking his head. One of the hounds growled, a low threatening rumble. The lisincend laughed, a horrible raspy sound that tore into his ears. The heat around him increased as his feet began to burn. Knowing what would come next terrified him. But he refused to move away from Amia.

  “Release us now,” Amia said.

  Her words carried an energy to them, a command, and Tan could not imagine the lisincend doing anything but releasing them.

  The creature only laughed again. “I know your trick now. You can sacrifice this boy, but he cannot protect you much longer.”

  Tan cried out as the heat flared. Fear coursed through him, pounding, paralyzing him. He smelled the leather of his boots burning yet he could do nothing to move.

  Amia looked at him. Her eyes pierced his fear. “Protect me.”

  Her voice was a soft command in his mind. He could no more ignore her request than the day could ignore the rising sun.

  Pressure suddenly flared in his ears, building so quickly that he didn’t know what he could do to release it. It felt as if his eardrums would burst. Tan screamed from the burning at his feet and the pounding pressure building in his head.

  Protect me.

  The lisincend smiled again.

  That was the last thing Tan saw clearly.

  As the pressure in his head increased, he felt the growing compulsion from Amia’s words.

  The wind whipped into town in a torrent, sending dirt and mud and leaves flying, nearly knocking Tan off his feet. The heat the lisincend radiated was blown away. The creature stared in the direction of the oncoming gusts of wind before turning its fiery gaze upon Tan. Sheets of rain poured down from the sky. Thunder rolled continuously overhead, beating like a drum, almost in time with Tan’s heart.

  The pressure behind his ears built even more.

  Protect me.

  Another gust of wind threw Tan and Amia forward. He had no sense of direction. He couldn’t see streets or buildings through the whipping wind. Mud and flying leaves blasted past his face.

  Protect me.

  Entwining his fingers into hers, he pulled her along with him. The force of the wind pushed them, sending them practically flying. The hounds howled against the raging wind, growing stronger, and then another powerful gust blew in, drowning out the hounds’ horrible sounds. It nearly lifted Tan and Amia off their feet as it threw them from the town. Tan clung on to Amia.

  Protect me.

  Another gust sent them airborne. They flew over a small cart. Tan pedaled his legs frantically as he flew, squeezing Amia’s hand so he wouldn’t lose her.

  Then they landed in a tumble.

  The wind knocked from his lungs and he lay there, only for a moment, before leaping to his feet. Amia came with him and they ran, letting the wind push them.

  Then they were within the trees. The wind still whipped and blasted him forward but the intensity had died. They ran blindly, moving as quickly as they could, afraid to rest and with no clear path in mind. Behind them lay death.

  Over the noise of the wind and rain came another sound, something unlike Tan had ever heard. An earsplitting roar raged through the night, flaring hot and wild, before dying quickly, drowned by the wind and rain.

  The lisincend screamed in rage. And it was targeted at Tan.

  He shivered, running hard, clenching Amia’s hand tightly in his own as he ran into the night on exhausted legs. The horrible scream echoed again before it too was put down by the wind and rain. Tan dared not stop.

  19

  A Chance to Relax

  They raced through the thick pines of the forest. Harsh wind whipped around them and a cold from the upper mountains seeped into his bones. Rain came down in icy needles upon his skin. He dared not slow.

  Amia clenched his hand tightly. Any other time he would enjoy the sensation of her soft fingers resting on his, but for now, he thought only of taking another step. They ran blindly, moving along the slope. Tan chose not to run them uphill or down, uncertain where he was and not wanting to disorient himself further. They ran from Velminth, and for now it was enough.

  Each step grew harder as a growing exhaustion from the day began to settle into him. F
rom Amia’s slowing steps, he realized she felt the same. Still, Tan dared not slow. The words Amia had spoken to him in Velminth still echoed in his head.

  Protect me.

  The wind gradually lightened as they moved through the forest. Over the sound of the wind he heard the now familiar howl, the ringing call of the hounds. He cringed without thinking about it. Amia squeezed his hand, saying nothing. The gesture provided reassurance.

  As he listened, sensing the forest, he realized the hounds were far in the distance. Other voices answered the first, each farther than the next. There seemed an angry edge to their baying.

  The wind began to shift, growing colder with the crisp bite of the northern wind, blowing down from the upper slopes and through the tight passes. After the dry radiating heat of the lisincend, the cool northern air was a welcome return and provided a reassurance that they had put distance between themselves and the lisincend.

  Amia must have felt the same way. She released his hand as they slowed from running to a fast walk. The downpour changed to a gentle cleansing rain. Tan glanced at Amia. She wore a tight expression and he knew she did not allow herself time to grieve. Yet.

  “Do you know where we are?” she asked quietly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

  Tan glanced up at the sky, wishing for a sight of the near full moon. It remained hidden behind the dark and low-lying clouds. “I’m not sure. Probably north of Velminth, but…” He trailed off. The strange wind that had blown them from Velminth left him unable to tell where they were. As far as he knew, they could be anywhere. “I don’t know how we escaped. I don’t think the lisincend are near. Or the hounds.”

  A question hung upon her lips left unasked. “Nor I,” she finally said, looking behind her as if wondering whether the hounds and the lisincend were truly gone. “But I’m thankful we did.”

  They walked for a while, silent. Fatigue pressed on him, threatening to collapse him under the weight of everything he had experienced. An elevated tree root seemed to reach up and grab his ankle, and he stumbled, righting himself as Amia grabbed his shoulder. She had been lagging behind, each step slowing slightly, and caught up to him in time to prevent him from falling into the detritus along the forest floor.