Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  “Maybe.” Damn Mott and his stupid order to abduct Lynx and her sister. Axel kicked the heel of his boot against the wall. “I’ve got to talk to her. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Telling her about the . . . things watching her is too risky, Axel.”

  But Axel wasn’t listening. Lynx had stopped pacing, and he guessed any minute now, she would spot him. He wanted to be alone when that happened. Hopefully, she’d be encouraged to come to him, so he could offer her insight into his father’s technology.

  First, he had to distract Stefan.

  A scan of the ballroom revealed Malika. She watched a pair of knife jugglers with desultory interest. He shot a look at Stefan and made a decision. Axel nudged his friend with his elbow and gestured to his sister. “Look after her for me.”

  Stefan beamed—if a slight upturn of his lips could be called beaming. “You’re finally giving me permission to court your sister?”

  Axel turned a mocking smile on his friend. “Astonishing, isn’t it?” Axel asked. “Mess with her like I’m messing with Lynx, and I will kill you.”

  Stefan smacked him on the shoulder. “We both know that will never happen.”

  “What? You messing with her or me killing you?”

  “Both.” Stefan started toward Malika and then stopped. He turned to face Axel. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”

  “Do I ever?”

  Stefan’s eyebrows twitched, a sure sign of worry. “Please remember what’s at stake here. For all of us.” He didn’t wait for a reply before heading off toward Malika, which was just as well, as Axel hadn’t planned on giving him one.

  In an effort to control his wildly beating heart, Axel folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall, waiting for Lynx to notice him.

  25

  Lynx collapsed back against the balustrade, the fire doused from her soul. Since her earliest childhood, everything she’d ever done had been motivated by a desire to protect her family and her people, but now, when her loyalty and obedience mattered, she’d failed them.

  Spectacularly.

  Her pulse raced as images of imperial guardsmen swarming into the Norin camp, killing everyone, ran rampant through her mind. Could she not have controlled her temper, and her hatred, long enough to give Mott the grandson he wanted? Would it have been so difficult to pretend that she liked being manhandled like a sack of ostrich feathers?

  She gagged at the thought.

  Lukan was clearly as mad as his father. Nothing in her life had prepared her to be the wife of a man like that. She was a warrior, not a playmate to be abused and controlled. Sadly, despite the oaths that bound her, the idea of killing him was much more agreeable than submitting to him. Her head dropped to her chest, and tears threatened.

  Crying helped no one. She jerked upright and looked around, wondering how long before guardsmen arrived to haul her before Mott. Whatever happened, she’d go down fighting. Muscles tensed, she leaned against the balustrade, took a deep breath, and waited.

  It was then she noticed Axel, also alone, leaning on the wall on the far side of the crowded ballroom. His raised eyebrows told her he’d been waiting for her to notice him. He grabbed two goblets from a passing waiter and held one out to her.

  She turned away and searched the crowd for Kestrel. She was with Tao and a group of his friends. Tao was kind enough to include his betrothed in his life.

  Instead of introducing her to his friends, Lukan had ignored her all day and then tried to hog her company tonight. She considered taking Kestrel away so they could talk, but her sister would be no ally in a matter with Lukan. Regardless, as soon as the ball was over, she would tell Kestrel what happened.

  Her eyes swept the ballroom, looking for her uncle so she could warn him of the emperor’s threats—and apologize for hitting Lukan. He was missing. She guessed he was in the gambling room, petitioning the emperor.

  Drawn like a magnet, her attention drifted back to Axel. He looked at her expectantly. With no one else to call on, she made her way through the dancers to join him. From the snatches of whispered conversations she heard, the entire room was discussing her fight with Lukan.

  Axel handed her a goblet. “What an entertaining evening, Princess. We’ve had both music and drama.”

  She took a gulp of mead and drooped against the wall next to him. “Please don’t mock me, Axel.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not in the mood.”

  “Feeling vulnerable, are we?”

  Lynx sighed at the notion that anyone need use the word vulnerable in reference to her.

  Axel smiled, a genuine one without any of his usual derision. “Cheer up, Lynxie. You’re also a fighter, so I can assure you, the vulnerability will soon pass.” He took a swig of his mead. “Whether Lukan recovers as quickly remains to be seen.”

  “If it were only that dolt, I wouldn’t be concerned. But I hardly think the emperor will be ecstatic about our little display of temper.”

  He turned to face her. “Don’t worry about him. Not now anyway. He never attends balls. Tonight, he’s busy gambling away the empire’s gold reserves.”

  Lynx’s tension eased—slightly. “So when will he learn about this evening’s escapade?”

  “You probably have until morning.”

  “Wonderful. It doesn’t look like I’ll be getting any sleep tonight.”

  What would the emperor do with her? Lock her in a dungeon? Feed her to the wolves? Anything was possible after she’d publicly announced that her first and only loyalty was to the Norin king. And she’d also punched his precious son.

  Axel’s cajoling voice brought her back to the present. “Lynxie, you said it yourself, he wants a grandson. He won’t hurt you until you deliver. Now, Lukan, on the other hand—”

  “Will probably never speak to me again. And, despite everything I feel about the idiot, that is a serious problem.”

  “Not as serious as you think. My cousin is like a trained circus monkey. He will do exactly what his father tells him.” A wicked smile. “So, we’ve sorted out Lukan and the emperor. What else could worry you at such a high-spirited party?”

  “High-spirited? Are you ever serious, Axel?”

  “Not at balls. I make that a rule. Now what’s up?”

  “I’m alone in a world of strangers.” She sighed, knowing how melodramatic that sounded.

  “Strangers? So, what does it take to be your friend, Lynx? We shared a week on a train, a delicious palace breakfast. Admittedly, you ate almost nothing. And a brisk morning ride. Yet you find our acquaintance insufficient to elevate me from stranger to friend? This doesn’t have anything to do with my hair and eye color does it?”

  Lynx bit her lip to suppress a smile. Funny that Axel’s dark Chenayan looks didn’t worry her at all. Why didn’t she feel that way about Lukan? It would have made life so simple.

  But it was never to be.

  Lukan wasn’t Axel. No matter his rank or his handsome face and body, Lukan didn’t have the power to send a squadron of tingles fluttering through her whenever he looked at her.

  Not that any of it mattered, because, flirt that he was, Axel had a girlfriend.

  And Lynx was on a mission of honor. She just needed some breathing space before she hefted that burden again. It was not lost on her that she had to swallow her pride. Lukan would probably never hunt her down to put things right between them.

  And she had still made no headway with the gemstones.

  She cleared her throat to steady her voice. “You, Axel Avanov, while more than a stranger, lack the vital ingredients needed to be my friend.”

  Axel ran one of his beautiful hands through his dark hair and then mocked, “Dragon’s nostrils, Princess, before I allow myself to be hurt and offended, let me guess: you need a girl who will sit and dissect my cousin’s extraordinary behavior with you?”

  Lynx glared at him over her goblet and then took a risk born of desperation. “He’s not
the only one whose behavior troubles me. How can I trust you when you’re so obviously a committed part of the Avanov machine? You wear your ridiculous ruby and your general’s uniform with pride. What does your stone do for you, Axel? Make you into some kind of superhuman? Or is that reserved for priestesses and ordinary guardsmen? And if that’s not weird enough, that zombie, Count Felix, is your father.”

  Axel’s jaw dropped, then his head darted from side to side, eyes scanning the crowds. No one seemed close enough to stop him from replying, “Princess Lynx of Norin, queen of indiscretion. Must you always open your mouth just to change feet?”

  He leaned in closer to whisper, “I’m not in control of my parentage, but that doesn’t mean I’m not smart enough to take full advantage of the benefits it offers. And you’re right, I am part of the ‘Avanov machine,’ as you call it. My father and his brother are the most powerful men in the world. When my father dies—which he will, despite your claim that he’s already a ‘zombie’—I will inherit his money, his chunk of the planet, and more power than even he can imagine. Does that worry me? No. Not one bit.”

  Axel grimaced at a couple who joined them against the wall. “Come. I want to dance.”

  He grabbed Lynx’s goblet, dumped it on the floor, and pulled her into the swirling dancers. Lynx leaned into him as he held her hand and clasped her hip, drinking in his smell, reminiscent of the plains of home, fresh air, and running water. She couldn’t even remember what Lukan smelled like.

  Axel’s breath fluttered against her ear. “There are some things you don’t speak about in Chenaya, Princess. Gemstones are one of them. Not unless you want the emperor to set the date for your execution. You got that?”

  Heart racing, she leaned back and asked as nonchalantly as possible, “Why?”

  Axel’s shoulders sagged, and a look of exasperation settled on his face. He pulled her close his chest and whispered, “Why’s it so important?”

  “Somehow, the she-witch used her gemstone to zap me with lightning.”

  “Electricity,” Axel corrected.

  Lynx’s eyes widened with excitement, which she quickly quelled. It wouldn’t help to let Axel know what she was up to. She rolled the unfamiliar word on her tongue. “E-lec-triss-i-ty.”

  “You got it. Although we usually say it with a bit more speed.”

  She pinched the firm skin on his hipbone, hard, making him wince. He grabbed her hand, holding it in his. While she didn’t resist, she didn’t let the delightful sensation shooting through her core deflect her from her mission.

  “So, Axel, electricity . . . what is it? Where does it come from, and how does it work?”

  And how can I use it to protect my family from you and your guardsmen? And overthrow your empire while we’re at it?

  She cleared her throat. “There’s so much information—knowledge—you Avanovs are hiding from the rest of us.”

  Axel snorted a laugh. But she noticed that he danced her into a crowd cheering a fire-eater. With shrieks of delight at the man’s antics drowning out their conversation, Axel said, “You don’t know the half of it, my Lynxie.”

  Eyes steeled, she glared at him, ignoring the wobble in her belly at the possessive my before her nickname. “So start talking.”

  “Nice try.”

  Maybe by playing hard-to-get, she could taunt him into telling her. “Then we have nothing more to say to each other.” Lynx stopped dancing and drew her hands away from his.

  He delighted her by grabbing her fingers. She pretended to stiffen but didn’t resist as he pulled her against him.

  A triumphant smile quirked when he leaned in to whisper, “Electricity predates the Burning. And ballrooms are not the place for that kind of discussion.”

  Predated the Burning? Impossible. Nothing survived the Burning. She and Axel definitely needed to talk. She took his hip again and allowed him to lead her around the dance floor. “Then, where?”

  “Somewhere very private, for all I want to tell you. The best place would probably be your room.”

  Lynx sucked in a startled breath, and her knees buckled, making her stumble over Axel’s feet. “My room?” she squeaked. “Are you sure that’s safe? For me?”

  He grinned at her while fighting for balance. “You’ll have to trust me on that.”

  Hmm . . . maybe Axel was playing with her as much she was leading him on. Disturbing thought. “Which brings us back to my problem with you.” She steadied herself by gripping his shoulder. “I don’t trust you.”

  He shrugged. “The information you’re asking for comes at a price. Your trust. Is it worth it, Lynxie?”

  Was it worth it? Should she risk having Axel Avanov in her bedchamber in exchange for vital information?

  It would at least satisfy one of the oaths she was bound by. But what of the other? Was it even possible to fulfill two totally conflicting oaths?

  Maybe if her father knew what gave the guardsmen their strength, he could counter it—if she failed in her promise to marry Lukan and Mott sent his troops to Norin.

  Then a second problem hit her. Would Axel be happy talking to her in the sitting room? If not, the armchairs next to her enormous bed? Or, girlfriend notwithstanding, would he want to—

  She pushed the thought aside. This wasn’t a tryst. Despite Axel’s flirting, his girlfriend need have no fear that Lynx would poach her man. Meeting privately with him was nothing more than a desperate attempt to find information needed for her to survive in the Avanov palace and protect her family. “My room. What time?”

  “Three o’clock.” He glanced at her wrist, sans watch, and clicked his tongue, as if he hadn’t approved of the she-witch destroying it. “The bells will ring three times.”

  Lynx kept her face expressionless. “Don’t be late.”

  “My father’s spies are everywhere. So, as much as I hate to do it, I’m going to abandon you now in case he thinks we’re plotting some nefarious activity.” Sardonic smile in place, Axel’s hands dropped to his sides, and he skipped away from her. A flippant bow followed.

  “You need to brush up on some of the dance steps, Princess. I’m sure my foot will be bruised in the morning.” He sauntered away, leaving her alone on the dance floor.

  26

  The palace bells had not yet finished chiming when a knock sounded on Lynx’s bedroom door. Axel was prompt, which was more than she could say for his cousin. She welcomed him to her room with a cautious smile, but he didn’t acknowledge her.

  Without waiting for her to close the door, he pulled an unlit candle on a solid brass holder from under his cloak and strode to the sconce on the wall, the only lighting in the room. Deftly, he lit his candle and dumped it on the closest table. Then he killed the flames in the sconce with his fingers, swirled out of his cloak, and draped it over the wall mounting. If that wasn’t strange enough, he pulled her across the room, farthest from the sconce he seemed to dislike so much.

  “My,” she said, “you do like to make an entrance.”

  “Don’t ever linger in front of a candle sconce if you can help it. And never hold a private conversation in the vicinity of one.”

  Lynx laughed. “Have you seen someone about this phobia? Surely there’s some remedy a healer can give you?”

  “Cute. That was your first lesson in electricity. Dramatic, but I needed to make a point.” He cocked his thumb at the sconce. “Even though I neutralized this one before I came here.”

  “‘Neutralized’? Isn’t that a euphemism for killed?”

  “That works.”

  “Okay. You have my attention.” Lynx tossed the cushions from the armchairs onto the floor and grabbed the candlestick from the table. She put it down, too, where it cast a circle of golden light. She sat, crossed her legs, and patted the cushion next to her. “Care to explain?”

  Axel stood over her, smiling. “As you know, I love your legs. But is the floor really necessary? You are in civilization now.”

  She flung a cushion at him, scoring a dir
ect hit on the side of his face. “Sit. Speak.”

  “How can I possibly disobey, Princess?” He laughed, plonked down next to her, stretched his long legs out, and rested his head on his hand. “Happy now?”

  The candlelight softened the planes of his face, making him look less like an Avanov and more like the friend—or lover? —she longed for. Despite her determination not to flirt with him, her face betrayed her by grinning at him. “I’ll be happy when you start talking, General.”

  “Do you remember that sword-sharpening exercise of mine on the train?”

  The image of his forearms flashed through her memory. “How could I forget?”

  “Stefan sent Saskia to sort through your dresses to get her out of your hair—”

  “That was kind of him,” Lynx interrupted. “He’s a bit of an enigma, our Colonel Zarot.”

  “Do you mind?” Axel flicked her arm playfully with his fingernail. “I’m in the middle of a fascinating story.”

  Lynx gave him a mock bow. “Please, my lord, continue.”

  “That would be good, if you actually meant it. Anyway, Stefan went to the guard car, where he sent the duty officers off to inspect something that didn’t need inspecting. Do you know why he did that?”

  Lynx shrugged. “Like I said, he’s an enigmatic man.”

  “No. Well, a bit.” He smiled fondly as if thinking of something specific about Zarot. “But that’s not the point. He wanted to make sure none of the guardsmen overheard Bear’s pathetic attempts at warning you about life in the palace.”

  Lynx folded her arms across her chest. “I knew you were listening.”

  “Of course I was listening. Understanding was the problem.” He rolled his gorgeous golden-brown eyes. “You were speaking Norin.”

  Lynx leaned back and studied Axel’s face.

  It was surprisingly open and sincere.

  “You have no idea how many questions this conversation raises. How did you hear us? We were talking so quietly. Does your ruby enhance your hearing as well as your speed? Because, clearly, the jasper does something to the guardsmen’s hearing if Stefan had to get them busy while we spoke.”