Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  "I can wait a few days, I suppose," she said.

  She was left alone then, and she slept. Until Yuri came.

  Like he had done before he left, he took to pacing around the room. Alaysha watched him for a few moments, could see that he was struggling with something. She thought it best to wait until he had formed his thoughts.

  He finally turned her. "What did he tell you?"

  "Who? Yenic?"

  He nodded. "What did he tell you of your past?"

  "He told me the truth. That his tribe has four clans. That each has its own powerful woman and each of those has support you never gave me."

  "You had your mother's sister."

  "Not for long."

  "Is that my fault?" He settled next to her and his expression shifted into something she'd never seen on him except for when he looked at his heir. She wanted to believe it had something to do with her being wounded, but she knew better.

  "He told me why you wanted him dead."

  He chuckled at that. "Did he?"

  She watched his face for signs of alarm. She wasn't surprised when he showed nothing but condescension.

  She had to retract her statement. "He only told me that I killed his grandmother and his sister and all of the other elders. I killed all of their Arms and all of their blood witches." She met his gaze. "But you know all of that. Because you sent me to do it."

  "Did he ever say he was your Arm?" His expression was still unreadable.

  She thought back over their time together. "No. He never said it."

  "No," he agreed. "Because he isn't."

  She was confused. It was true he had never said so, but she had assumed it, and he never corrected her.

  "Did he ever protect you that you remember? Did he ever shield you with his body, make magic for you?"

  She shook her head.

  "It's because he can't. He is his mother's Arm."

  His mother's Arm. So that meant he'd intentionally misled her—if her father could be believed.

  "Why would he lie to me?"

  "Why would I?"

  She kept her his gaze until he lowered his first. "Yes," he said. "I do know that I stand to gain. I admit it. But he lied to you. I never did. I've never lied."

  If he hadn't lied, it was only because he didn't care enough to pretend for her, she thought. When she didn't respond, he continued, pressing it seemed because he felt he needed to, that he sensed her reluctant belief.

  "He didn't tell you about the others. Did he? And yet he knew about them, he knew they were still alive. How did he manage to survive your thirst? How was he able to survive when you were able to kill three fully gifted crones? Have you asked yourself that?"

  She couldn't answer. She'd never once given it a thought. One thing stood out to her, though; Yenic's aversion to killing Yuri and slaughtering the innocent people within Sarum. She held to that, she had to keep believing in that. It was the one thing that could dispel her father's reasoning.

  "What are you implying?"

  "You know what I'm implying."

  "But it doesn't make sense; if he wanted Sarum he could have had it."

  "Sarum is a small thing really. To you and me, a large thing, but to someone with other motives…" He shrugged.

  "But why would he ask me not to attack you, Father? Why would he speak of slaughter rather than war? Why would he defend you?" She felt the warmth of Yenic's words of safety, of his kiss, all slipping away and she was desperate to recover it.

  A smile snaked over Yuri's face and for a second, Alaysha believed him far more clever than she’d ever thought.

  "Control doesn’t have to be an overt thing," he said, and she had the grey shifting thought that she'd heard it somewhere before. "If I had ever asked you to stay your hand, what would you have thought of me?"

  She considered that. She had been willing to let him die because he’d always used her. Would she have been as willing if he’d ever shown kindness to his targets, treated them like people instead of objects? If he’d ever given consideration for how she would feel about killing?

  "It would be harder to see you as an object," is what she said.

  He nodded. "And an object can be done harm much easier than can a person, no matter how cruel. Isn't that what you were taught? To feel nothing when you killed? To imagine the warriors as targets and not as men?

  "What if those old women in the village were not the others," he asked. "Or if they were, what if they were not there of their free will?"

  "But--"

  "How were you manipulated?"

  She considered it. "Aedus. Bronwyn. Yenic too."

  He nodded. "What if those crones truly were the real witches who had loved ones held captive somewhere?"

  She hadn't considered that either. She tried to picture Yenic with his honeyed gaze and find deception in it. She found all she could do was see him suffering from the dreamer's worm, the swelling he bore from trying to save Aedus, the way his mouth looked when he wanted to kiss her.

  That last made her chest tight with anger. If he'd deceived her, he'd used a most vile way to do it.

  "He says you're untrained, and maybe in your gift, you are, but I trained you well no matter what he says. Use what I have given you—harden your heart like I taught you so you can't be treated as a tool against your will. It's the best way."

  "So, what if he did lie to me, Father; I killed his sister. Her unborn child. All for you." She felt the strength of her argument weakening in the reality of her father's steely stare.

  "You are so young, Witch. You see only what's in front of you while other men see far and beyond. Have you thought about what would happen if a man could control all the elements? Water, fire, earth, air? Have you?"

  She looked him over, trying to read what was unreadable in him. "It depends on the man."

  He sighed. "I didn't get to be Emir of Sarum by trusting anyone, or from being kind."

  He passed her a draft of warm liquid: dreamer's root, she supposed, and she took large gulps of it. Everything had seemed so simple before and now it had turned more complex than she could manage. All she wanted was sleep. Her stomach burned. Her mind burned. Worst of all, her chest burned as though someone had reached inside and set fire to a secret place within.

  "I don't know if I'm the right man," Yuri said to her, "But at least I can say I wanted to prevent a war that might finish us all off, and if it comes to our threshold anyway, I will fight it." His last words were passion-filled, and Alaysha had to struggle to keep his gaze under the fire of his words.

  "And this is what you didn't tell me before. Why you wanted Yenic and Yenic's tribe dead." She could hear the slur in her words as the drug took effect, and she fought to keep her eyes open, her ears capable of hearing his answer.

  "Better to have the only witch when you can't have them all, than to let someone else control the most of them."

  She wanted to believe Yenic could be trusted, but there were too many questions now to simply believe him on faith. Her stomach squirmed as she thought about him and his touch—how it had felt lying next to him in the dark—and she started to feel the sure pangs of anger and hurt. How could he have done such a thing to her? She'd been foolish and ignorant, and even young, as he'd kept telling her she was. He'd used her more foully than her father had ever done.

  But could she trust her father either? Best she do like Yuri: keep her own counsel and trust only her own motives because those were the only ones she could fully know. She would never be used again against her will: not by Yuri, and certainly not by Yenic. Especially not Yenic.

  She was so tired, far more tired than weariness or dreamer's draft could ever account for. She watched her father wait for her to close her eyes, and when she did, she heard him move across the cabin and out the door. She fought to open her eyes, to be sure he'd gone and that she was alone. Only then did she feel relieved enough to let go the tears that burned in her eyes, and when she was done, she felt more certain. No matter what
came, she knew she could trust herself and herself alone.

  For the present, though, she'd lie here and listen to the birds and thank the Deities that for now, that was all they were—songbirds celebrating the day, and not carrion vultures shrieking over an unexpected and unnatural meal. That might come another day, but it wasn't now; it wouldn't be today.

  She closed her eyes again and let the birdsong send her to sleep.

  The End

  The story continues with Blood Witch.

  Read now

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  About the Author

  WHO IS THIS THEA CHICK? Thea writes what she calls left-of-mainstream fiction at her desk in Nova Scotia with her black lab at her feet and miniature gargoyles to protect the space and the muse. She always has a cup of tea going or going cold. No matter what genre she writes in, it's always slightly off kilter from the regular (mainstream) offering.

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  Adamant

  The Alliance Series: Book One

  Emma L. Adams

  Adamant © Copyright 2015 Emma L. Adams

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This book was written, produced and edited in the UK, where some spelling, grammar and word usage will vary from US English.

  Created with Vellum

  About the Book

  Adamant

  A sorceress from another universe is accused of murder, but her captors might know the key to her magic.

  Ever since a devastating magical war tore apart Ada Fletcher's homeworld, she and her family have lived undercover on the low-magic Earth, where their magic will go undetected. Stuck in a dead-end job in London, Ada has spent her life hiding her true identity while risking her life to help others escape the deadly battle between magic-wielders and the ruling tyrants. Until she loses her job, is chased by a rampaging monster, and is arrested as a prime suspect for a murder she had nothing to do with. It really isn't Ada's day.

  Kay Walker, grandson of the Inter-World Alliance's late founder, expects to spend his first week as an Alliance employee hunting rogue monsters, not solving his supervisor's murder or questioning a strange, fierce young woman caught trespassing in the Passages between worlds. Killer or not, her abilities raise questions about the Alliance's history, and the closer he gets to the truth, the higher the body count rises.

  The last thing Ada wants to do is help the infuriating Alliance guard who arrested her, but it soon becomes clear that the Alliance knows too much about Ada's homeworld — and her magic. More, in fact, than she knows herself. One thing's certain: she's not the only one keeping secrets, and trusting the wrong person might cost more than her life.

  1

  Ada

  Pulling up my hood to hide my face, I slipped from the fog-shrouded London street into a narrow alleyway between two abandoned buildings, a smile forming at the prospect of breaking the Alliance’s rules. Rule number one: no trespassing in the Passages. Rule number two: no leaving Earth without a permit.

  Lucky they didn’t know about this particular door.

  I rubbed my arms, the chill from the alley wall penetrating the thin fabric of my coat. Several feet in, the brick gave way to a fake section of wall which wasn’t obvious at first glance. This area was so off-radar, no one would ever come looking for trouble here, not of the magic variety. But my fingers found the familiar cracks between brick and metal, and a gentle push made the fake part of the wall slide away, revealing cold metal.

  I didn’t know who’d first discovered the Passage here, nor who’d concealed it. The Alliance had logged every single one, including the handful that existed on Earth, but this was hidden even from them. They’d never guess the biggest illegal offworld operation in the Multiverse was in the same city as Earth’s main Alliance branch.

  Nothing was quite like that first thrill when magic made itself known, buzzing under my skin as my fingers brushed the metal wall. It was icy to the touch and functioned like a sliding panel, revealing a dark corridor. Heart beating fast, I stepped over the threshold.

  The Passages were always freezing, no matter the time of day. There was no sun here, and on the lowest level, where I was, it felt like the inside of a gigantic refrigerator. The lowest level, or “level zero”, was the most dangerous, which was most likely why the Alliance hadn’t found the door. Even Alliance guards could get eaten alive by the monsters down here.

  Luckily, this time it was quiet, though the lingering stench of Cethrax’s swamp followed me through the corridors. That world was not on my list of tourist destinations. But once I’d escaped the warren of the lower levels via a concealed staircase, I was in the Passages for real. The first-level corridor opened before me, branching out into countless others. All identical—high-ceilinged, ten metres wide, and lined with metal doors like the one that led to Earth. All were labelled with numbers in an order only the Alliance knew, to ensure nobody but them could tell which door led to which universe. There were thousands in total, spread throughout these corridors. Maybe even millions—I hadn’t seen them all.

  For me, imagining was part of the thrill. Every hum of the wind in the dark whispered promises of worlds beyond imagining, every door held something new behind its cold metal exterior. I’d come here too many times to count, yet I’d never set foot beyond one of those doors. But God, the temptation was so intense I could taste it.

  And then there was magic. You couldn’t really see magic on Earth the way I could here, like the shift of a tinted lens, enough to make the world look one degree different. And I could feel it under my skin, like I was plugged into a live wire. Something in the Earth’s atmosphere stifled magic, which was why the Alliance relied so much on their offworld technology. No denying they needed it, seeing as they were the one force standing between Earth and the mercy of a thousand offworld threats. And yet, I’d be at their mercy if they found me here. Using an unregistered Passage to help illegal magic-wielders from another world that the Alliance deemed ‘dangerous’ would mean instant imprisonment, if I was lucky.

  I walked swiftly, with the occasional glance behind to make sure I wasn’t being tailed. I had long since figured out the pattern of the Alliance’s patrols and could avoid them, but despite having come here frequently since I was eight years old, I couldn’t pretend I knew all the Passages’ secrets. They’d been set up by the original Alliance. That was about as much as anyone on Earth knew. Not how they’d put the doors in place, not how they found each world. Classified, Nell had said. The Alliance guarded its secrets well.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out and glanced at the screen. “Level 2, Door 65. You’re late.”

  Rolling my eyes, I slid my phone back into my pocket. Delta had been the one to hook up my phone to Inter-World Communications so I’d have a means of contacting him from Earth. A pretty handy extension. Not quite as fancy as the flashy communicators members of the Alliance carried, but it worked for me. I could call anyone within the f
ive neighbouring worlds and the Passages between.

  Second level. I suppressed a shiver of unease, and the smile faded from my face. I knew which world I’d be dealing with this time.

  The staircase to the top floor was invisible to most people, but I found it, coat whipping behind me in the chill wind of upper level. Shivering, I climbed the twisting staircase and hurried through the corridors, not daring to glance at the doors hidden in the gloom. I couldn’t imagine the horrors on the other side. On the top floor, a place restricted even to Alliance employees, these were worlds torn apart by war, worlds barred from ever joining the Alliance.

  One of them was my homeworld.

  Reaching the corridor I needed, I paused, looking out for the familiar figure. Delta waved at me from a shadowy corner near door 65.

  “You took your time.” Delta faced me with a smile full of elongated teeth.

  “Can’t be too careful,” I said, mimicking Nell’s lecturing voice, and he grinned. His hair stood up like the bristles on a toothbrush.

  “Right. There’s a family coming through. They should be here any minute now. They’ve been checked over. No magic, and no weapons training.”

  I nodded. No magic usually meant it was easier to get away. Not that the Alliance didn’t think we’d all start a magical war anyway, given the chance.

  “How’s it going?” he asked. “Is Nell still being paranoid? I thought she’d locked you up.”

  “Not going to happen,” I said. “She knows I’d break out and come here anyway. What’s she think will happen? I can hardly go swanning off to Valeria without a permit—though I wouldn’t turn down an invite,” I added, not so subtly.