Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  Tan shook his head. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You don’t want to visit?”

  Tan hesitated before answering. “My place isn’t in Ethea. My place is…was…in Nor.” He looked around. “I’m an earth senser like my father. It’s not a skill with much use anywhere else.” He didn’t say anything about not wanting to serve the king. Not as his father had served. Still, he suspected Amia knew anyway.

  “Then why do this?”

  Tan looked over at the distant mountain. “It’s the last thing my mother asked of me.”

  Amia squeezed his hand and they sat there for a long while. “It’s out there,” she said. “I feel it, trailing into the mountain. Closer than before.”

  Tan could practically see the shaping, it pulled so strongly on him. “Will you help?”

  “What else can I do? At least this way I can do something to stop Fur.”

  Tan felt relief that she would help and pulled her to her feet. “Are you ready or do you need to rest longer?”

  She forced a smile. “Resting will only let the pain set in more. Better to move.”

  They circled around the lake, following the shore, and moved through soft leaves and detritus. All the recent rain had made the ground soggy and Tan led them away from the shore, toward the trees. Though they didn’t gain any speed, he no longer felt as if the ground was trying to suck him under with each step. The lake was much longer than it was wide, filling much of this part of the valley, and fed by several small streams running down from the mountains.

  “There’s a lot of water around here,” he said as they stepped through another small stream.

  “Do you know where we are?”

  “South and east of Velminth,” he said. That much he’d determined. “Other than that, I can’t say. I’m not certain we’re still in Galen.”

  Tan kept expecting to see the edge of the lake as they continued forward but did not. Amia pointed them down the lake. The white-tipped mountains never seemed nearer. The clouds managed to block the sun and they traveled by an overcast light. After everything they’d seen, the dour day fit his mood.

  After a time, a distant howl rang out from the forest. He froze, tensing with the sound. It was the unmistakable cry of one of the Incendin hounds.

  “If they reach the valley…we won’t be able to outrun them,” Tan said.

  “And if there are hounds…” Amia began.

  They ran.

  Had the air grown warmer? A breeze blew through the valley and across the lake, but had it not been a cool wind? The sky was darkening and the cloud cover made it difficult for him to gauge the time, but he suspected night was coming.

  There was another howl, nearer now, and they froze, looking in the direction of the sound, before starting forward at a run. The wet ground slowed them.

  “We have to move into the trees,” Amia said.

  “Stay near the water,” Tan said. “Lisincend. Fire shapers.” He knew little of shaping, but he knew how sensing was paired. “Fire is tempered by water. Earth by wind.” He struggled for a few more steps to catch his breath. “Safest by water.”

  Thick mud and muck clung to their legs as they slogged forward. The harsh cry of the hounds continued to echo through the forest, growing strangely muted as the sound passed across the valley. With each howl, the hounds closed on them.

  “We aren’t going to outrun them,” Tan said.

  He reached for his knife before thinking better of it and placing it back in its sheath. Instead, he unslung his bow and pulled a few arrows from his quiver. Though wet, he hoped the fletching had dried enough for the arrows to fly true.

  Tan looked at Amia. Her face was blank but her eyes flashed with her determination. “We need to slow—” he began. A loud sound almost directly in front of them cut him off.

  A dark shape stood outlined against the trees one hundred paces in front of them. The large creature stalked forward, hackles raised, and it growled again.

  Tan didn’t think. He raised his bow, sighted, and released. The arrow flew true, striking the hound under its chin. It took a step, cried out weakly, and fell. Tan readied another arrow as Amia grabbed his arm and pulled him forward.

  A chorus of howling sounded off to their left, loud and growing louder. Tan listened and counted at least three distinct cries. His grip upon his bow tensed. Amia pulled him along toward a large rock cluster that loomed in the distance.

  “If we’re to make a stand,” he said, pointing to the rocks. It would be as good as any and still near the water.

  As they reached the rocks, Tan spun, sensing something close. One of the hounds leapt from the shadows, directly at Amia. Tan released his nocked arrow and it caught the hound between the eyes. The creature fell limp nearly at Amia’s feet. Without thinking, Tan grabbed it and slung it out into the lake. It sank with a strange hissing sound.

  Two more creatures slid forward from under the cover of the trees, low growls in their throats. They moved more cautiously than the others. A light haziness surrounded them, much like with the lisincend. It reminded him of when he’d been treed after tracking them. A steady heat radiated from them as well.

  He fired an arrow toward the nearest creature and heard a low cry, but was not certain that his arrow had struck true. The haze was difficult to see through. Tan reached into his quiver and pulled out his remaining arrows. His stomach dropped as he realized only three remained.

  A streak of movement shot toward them. He drew and fired. A satisfying thump came as the arrow struck home. The hound howled and went down thrashing, kicking mud and dirt at them as it fell.

  Tan turned away, blocking Amia from its death throes. He barely saw the other hound as it leapt toward them.

  With no time to nock an arrow, he grabbed his knife and swung it at the hound, slicing it beneath its throat. Warm blood sprayed down his arm. The hound fell to the ground and crawled away. When it touched water, steam rose from it.

  Amia shivered near him. “Two arrows left.”

  The air temperature had risen sharply. No wind blew. Through the trees, Tan heard another low rumbling growl, followed by another. It was not the hounds prowling the forest that he feared.

  He feared the lisincend that had arrived with them.

  “Lisincend,” he whispered.

  There came a low, dry laugh, starting like the rustling of leaves, and rising to a loud hiss. “Yes,” a strange voice said. “You are right to feel fear. Now. Where is the girl?”

  “There’s no girl here,” Tan answered.

  The lisincend laughed again. “I smell her. And her fear. Give her to me.”

  Tan shook his head as he answered. “No.”

  The lisincend laughed again. “You have been surprising, boy, but you cannot hope to defy me any longer.”

  Amia gripped his arm. Tan glanced over. “Run,” he mouthed.

  She released his sleeve and he stepped forward, hoping to block the lisincend from seeing her. “You’re Fur?”

  The lisincend hissed. “I am Fur.”

  “Where is Theondar?” Tan demanded.

  “Theondar?” it asked, its dry voice cracking over the name. “Theondar troubles me no longer. And neither will you.”

  Tan felt the energy building around the lisincend and knew he should be more afraid than he was, knew that he had only moments remaining. Yet instead of fear, he felt anger. The lisincend had attacked his home. Had killed his friends. And had taken his mother from him.

  And under all of that, he heard the soft command, Amia’s shaping from the night, which now seemed so long ago.

  Protect me.

  Tan could do nothing else except try.

  He raised his bow, letting his senses stretch out, sensing the forest around him and listening. He knew where the lisincend stood and fired quickly, grabbing his remaining arrow and loosing it as well. The arrows whistled and hissed through the air before striking.

  Tan felt the lisincend begin its shaping, felt the enormous power
it used. Time seemed to slow. The hairs on his arm stood on end and sweat dripped from his face as the heat in the air surged. The lisincend began to glow with a reddish light. Whatever it was shaping was more powerful than anything he had seen before.

  Had he given Amia enough time? He dared not turn to look, watching the lisincend with morbid fascination, knowing he would soon die. Pressure built like he’d felt with shapings before, but this was different. His head started pounding and a whistling sound whooshed behind his ears. All of this he sensed with a curious detachment.

  Streamers of flame burst all around him, leaping from the ground and stretching high into the sky, slowly encircling him. Tan saw this and stepped back, raising his hands instinctively. The wind whipped around him, a cool blast from out over the lake, making the flames flicker and dance though not disappear. Fire pushed back, surging more powerfully, and he took another halting step backward.

  The whooshing in his ears increased and it was all he heard, drowning the crackle of the flames and the low, dry laugh of the lisincend, covering even the deep, rumbling growl he felt from the nearby hounds.

  Tan wanted to scream. Everything they had been through, everything they had seen, and now he would lose. Amia still wouldn’t be safe.

  There came another surge of wind, blowing spray off the lake toward the lisincend. As it mixed with the flames, steam and smoke sizzled away. Still the flames pressed Tan backward. His foot touched water and he sunk, losing his balance, and faltered. Now daring to glance over at the rocks, he looked for Amia and saw her staring at him, her eyes wide and fearful. She had not run as he had asked.

  “Stop!” she commanded.

  Her words hummed with energy, and Tan froze, unable to do anything except obey her. The flames in front of Tan flickered and faded and the glow around the lisincend went from bright orange to reddish to a dark glow.

  “Leave us!” Amia yelled.

  Her words were a thunderclap and not to be ignored. The energy behind them rivaled what the lisincend channeled.

  One of the hounds hiding within the forest whined. Another ceased growling and simply howled. The lisincend looked from Tan over to Amia. And then laughed.

  “Impressive. Though I cannot be so easily swayed.” It started toward Amia. “You will be useful,” it hissed. Raising an arm, it sent a blast of heat toward Tan.

  Tan was not prepared for it, could not have prepared for it.

  The heat hit him like a hammer, throwing him up and into the air, tossing him roughly into the water. Pain burned across his chest and through him, eating through his flesh. He smelled himself burning as he struck the water. The air had been sucked from his lungs and he couldn’t cry out.

  As he sank, he saw a last glimmer of Amia, saw sadness written upon her face, then he faded into the darkness of the water.

  24

  A Lesser Elemental

  Tan didn’t awaken, not truly.

  Water flowed around him yet he had the sensation he was sinking. Something told him not to take a breath and he obeyed, though not really sure why. The water was cool and strangely comforting. He drifted, slowly lowering to the soft bed of the lake, before sinking into the sand. It swirled around his arms and legs, holding him gently.

  Distantly, he was aware of movement around him. At first it was a simple fluttering, a soft ripple in the water around his face, but it increased in strength and urgency.

  Tan opened his eyes and looked around. Somehow he breathed, yet did not. He couldn’t explain it, knowing only that he did not feel the urge to take a breath. Still his chest moved slowly as if he did. The water was murky, dark, and shimmered with a faint light only visible along the floor of the lake, like stars in the night sky.

  He was dreaming. Or dying. Tan didn’t know and was no longer sure that he cared.

  The rippling water around him ceased and he turned his head, looking for whatever had caused it. Slowly, he became aware of a soft pressure in his ears, now familiar, and wondered who was shaping nearby. This was different, though, a more gentle shaping, a slow buildup, and without the threat of pain like he’d felt so often before.

  Something swam past his face, translucent and moving quickly. Tan couldn’t see what it was, having only a sense of great size. He struggled to move but his arms were stuck in the sand and his legs didn’t move. Only his head and neck were his own. The movement came again, flitting past him, more slowly this time, and a trail of glowing pale green slid past.

  A fish? An eel? Tan didn’t know what creatures called these deep mountain lakes home, and this one was larger than most, fed by countless springs. What else could swim past him, taunting him as he died?

  He should feel fear, should be concerned about this strange creature swimming around him and the fact that he couldn’t move, but all he felt was a sense of peace and serenity.

  And then a face appeared in front of him.

  Not that of a man or any other animal he had ever seen. Rather, this face seemed formed of the water itself, soft, undulating, and nearly translucent as it shimmered with a faint green. The face flowed with a light energy, hovering in front of him. There was no sign of body, only the face. Only then did he feel the beginnings of nervousness.

  The face smiled. What are you?

  No lips moved, yet the voice was plainly heard, as if spoken in his head. The voice was foreign and gentle yet there was an underlying command to the question. He sensed a shaping similar to what Amia had used upon him.

  Tan tried to open his mouth to answer but found he could not. His lips, like nearly every other part of his body, didn’t respond to his direction. How, then, could he answer?

  I am Tan, he thought.

  He heard the words clearly. Somehow he knew they carried through the water to the strange creature.

  The pressure in his ears piqued gently before easing. It didn’t completely disappear.

  What is a Tan?

  That’s my name, Tan thought, and again the words carried. How is this possible?

  He hadn’t meant to ask the question, only thinking the words, but his thoughts carried like words.

  A name? It seemed to smile. Then you are human.

  Tan nodded. Of course. It came out quickly, unintentionally, and Tan shook his head. What are you?

  The creature appeared to smile. I? Not I. Nymid.

  Nymid? That is your name?

  The creature seemed to smile again. Not my name.

  Suddenly dozens of faces surrounded Tan, each similar to the first, yet with enough differences that he realized they were distinct creatures. The soft pressure increased painlessly. He realized these creatures were shaping.

  How was this happening? Was he dreaming? If he dreamt, how did he breathe?

  The first nymid smiled again. Breathe?

  Humans require air, another of the creatures answered.

  Tan looked but could not tell which spoke, though wondered if it mattered. The nymid communicated with thought and what one thought, they all heard.

  What are nymid?

  Tan felt a sense almost like a smile and then there came the sense of fluttering all around.

  Nymid are water.

  Water. Did that mean they were elementals?

  Most knew so little about the elementals, only that they existed. How else to explain sensing and shaping? Yet he’d never known anyone to actually speak to them. How could he do it now?

  He tried moving his arms but, stuck as he was in the sand, he could not. Why can’t I move?

  You were injured, one of the nymid said.

  Tan looked down but could see nothing of the rest of his body, only the soft sand that covered him. He remembered the blast, the force of the heat that hit him like a physical weapon, and the brief excruciating pain as his flesh burned from him.

  He should not have survived.

  The soft pressure in his ears told him the nymid had saved him. Were still saving him.

  Why help me?

  The nymid’s face lost t
he smile and for the first time, Tan felt something other than peace from the creature. A subtle agitation came from the creature, from all of them. The softly glowing light surrounding the creatures flickered quickly and Tan sensed that they communicated in other ways.

  I’m sorry, he thought quickly, feeling a surge of fear. But I don’t understand why you would help me.

  The flickering lights around the creatures slowed and the first nymid smiled slightly. Twisted Fire. You oppose Twisted Fire and help the Daughter.

  Tan didn’t fully understand. Twisted Fire? he asked as realization came to him. The lisincend. He pictured the creature with the thought. There was a slight shimmering in the water near Tan and the image of the lisincend appeared, hazy but there.

  The nymid turned to the picture and a long-fingered arm appeared and wiped the image away, leaving nothing but ripples and a glowing trail in the water. Twisted Fire, it agreed. Fire is natural, is part of the world, exists with it, like water, it said, waving its arm through the water as it spoke. Twisted Fire is unnatural and should not be.

  And the hounds? They seemed to share some of the same traits as the lisincend, able to hide themselves in a smoky haze much like the lisincend. Were they born of fire as well?

  The water rippled into the shape of one of the hounds before slowly disappearing. Like Twisted Fire, they are unnatural. The other nymid faded then, gradually growing more and more translucent until they were but a trail of faint glowing green.

  The first nymid remained, staring at him as if waiting, though Tan had no idea what it would be waiting for.

  And the Daughter?

  The nymid did not respond but did not need to. Tan suddenly understood.

  Amia?

  The Great Mother’s hand rests upon her.

  The nymid waved a thin arm through the water again, soft glowing ripples following it, and another image formed, this time of Amia held bound and gagged, with a ring of fire around her like a cage. Trapped and captured by the lisincend. One of the hounds rested nearby, watching her.