Magic and Misrule (Mishap's Heroes Book 1)

by KM Merritt

  “Honey, I sold that thing years ago.”

  Sorrel’s mouth dropped open. “You sold it?”

  “What use did I have for a big stick that shoots a pretty light show? Although the divine energy hanging around this place does make my potions that much more potent, so I can’t say I haven’t benefited from it.”

  “A stick?” Lillie said, then eyed Sorrel. “I thought you said it was a warhammer.”

  “Half a warhammer.” Sorrel subsided back onto her chair. “The head is back at the monastery. The shaft is the part that’s missing.”

  “Not really missing. I have the receipt around somewhere. I think the man was from Brisbene.”

  Lillie reached across to place a hand on Sorrel’s shoulder. “That means we can track it down, Miss Sorrel. You have another clue.”

  Sorrel nodded, but her gaze remained fixed on her hands, a little crease pulling between her brows.

  Vola blew out her breath and rubbed her forehead. At least Sorrel had a paper trail to follow. They’d struck a dead end here with the kidnappers. Run into it headlong.

  Astrid clearly wasn’t an illusion. The ones they’d come across so far weren’t nearly so human-like.

  She took a sip of her tea and a tingle spread through her chest and down her limbs, washing away the aches and the weariness, erasing the entire night of mud diving from her body.

  Sorrel’s rash had cleared entirely, and now that she was thinking about it, Lillie hadn’t sneezed in ages.

  Vola glanced down at her teacup and sniffed. The scent of mint filled her with calm, soothing strength.

  “Well,” Vola said. “You’re clearly not our kidnapper, Astrid. You’re not an illusionist. But you might be the best damn apothecary I’ve ever encountered.”

  A crack of lightning split the sky and struck the flagstones in front of Vola.

  “Okay, what is with the freak lightning storms?” Sorrel said, glaring at the sky. “Is it more divine magic?”

  “They do seem to be more frequent here,” Lillie said, examining the scorch mark.

  “Er, sorry.” Vola raised her hand. “That’s me. Cleavah doesn’t really like it when I swear. She’s pretty vocal about it.”

  “Huh,” Sorrel said. “I’m starting to like having a god who doesn’t care. Maxim’s approach is much more hands-off.”

  “I wonder what she would do to you if you really let loose?” Lillie said with a gleam in her eye.

  “We’re not experimenting,” Vola said.

  “I’m ignoring the divine retribution for now,” Astrid said. “Because that’s freaky as hell. Why did you think I might be an illusionist?”

  “The kidnapped people have all been replaced with illusions,” Lillie said. “We thought the lights on the tor might have something to do with that magic.”

  “Huh.” Astrid crossed her arms. “No wonder Lord Arthorel sent you out here then. He’s the only illusionist in the area.”

  Vola sucked in a breath. “What?”

  Astrid shrugged. “Not many of the locals know it. He likes to keep it quiet, but I know magic well enough when I see it. He’s an illusionist.”

  Vola’s jaw worked. “Then, he would have known your lights weren’t illusions.”

  “He sent us in the wrong direction on purpose,” Sorrel said.

  Lillie bit her lip. “We don’t know that for certain. He could…just be covering up the disappearances.”

  “What? So, he knows it’s happening and isn’t doing anything about it? I’m not sure how that’s better.”

  The teacup cracked under Vola’s grip. “Either way we can’t let him get away with it. Shi—crap.”

  Talon leaned their head on their hand. “We’re not getting paid, are we?”

  Eighteen

  Astrid’s ruins were made up of half a dozen little rooms formed by the maze of collapsed walls. She had a cistern to catch rainwater and they each got to stand under the spigot as she scrubbed them head to toe with what she called her “special mix.” Vola wasn’t exactly sure what was in it but when she stepped out of the water, she was squeaky clean and smelled like pie.

  Another room held piles of clothes, shoes, jackets, vests, and everything else a person could wear except armor.

  “People bring me things,” Astrid said. “They can’t usually pay for their potions with coin, so they bring me what they can afford to give away. And of course, I keep it. You never know when you’re going to have to clothe a seven-foot tall orc.” She held up a shirt and eyeballed Vola behind it.

  “Half-orc,” Vola said.

  Astrid contemplated the shirt for a moment. “True,” she said. “I guess the human half is as important as the orc half if both are the things that make you you.”

  “Do you mind that we’re using your home as an observation post?” Here, they had the high ground. They could regroup and keep an eye on Arthorel’s manor in the distance. The missing townspeople had to be somewhere nearby and maybe they could see them from here.

  And somewhere out there, Braydon was still making his way to the tor based on Vola’s direction.

  “I guess company isn’t all bad,” Astrid said with a sly look at Henri, who was cleaning out her cistern while it was mostly empty.

  Sorrel found a pair of sandals that fit in Astrid’s hoard, and Vola squeezed her feet into a new pair of boots. Astrid dug out a quiver to replace Talon’s lost arrows. And Lillie spent the afternoon drying out her spell book page by page and using a pen to re-ink the spells that were badly stained by mud.

  Vola helped Astrid hang their laundry along the walls. She pulled dripping red petals from Lillie’s pocket and grimaced.

  “Just lay those out on the table,” Astrid said. “They’ll dry fine.”

  “Do you know what they are? A shopkeeper in town asked us to bring them in exchange for our gear.”

  “Did he now?” Astrid’s grin wasn’t very nice. “I know exactly what they are. I tell people they’re my secret ingredient. That way I know when people are trying to undercut my prices.”

  Lillie glanced up, brow furrowed. “I take it they’re not your secret ingredient. Are you sabotaging the competition?”

  “Pfft, if someone who actually knows what they’re doing comes to town, I would happily share my trade. They would also know better than to put crimson swamp blossoms in anything other than a laxative. This is just to take care of irresponsible shopkeepers who think they can do my job cheaper and faster than me. I suggest you give them to him and see what happens.”

  “Astrid, you are conniving and wicked and I love you,” Lillie said, completely serious. “Will you teach me to make your tea?”

  “As long as you promise not to sell my secrets.”

  Vola left them to it and went to see how Sorrel was doing with the swamp monster. Lillie had started calling the thing Millford, but the name wasn’t sticking.

  Sorrel led it around to the side of the tor and tied it to one of the fallen blocks. She tilted her head. “Should I try to feed it?”

  They both examined the beast as it chewed menacingly on something crunchy. The only thing they’d actually seen it eat so far was a couple of turtles and a cook pot.

  “Maybe see if Astrid has any scraps she wouldn’t mind getting rid of,” Vola said.

  She turned back to the ruins, but a yelp made her spin.

  Sorrel was rubbing her leg. “It bit me,” she said. “Did you see it bite me?”

  “Try to stay out of range.”

  As she stepped away, Sorrel muttered something about having short arms.

  The sky was going pink and purple with sunset by the time Vola climbed the heights to join Talon where they sat at the very top of Astrid’s ruins.

  Vola plopped down on the broken edge of the wall and shaded her eyes with her hand. “Anything yet?”

  “Seems normal,” Talon said. “Some movement in town. Not much around the manor.”

  “Great.” Waiting and watching were not things Vola’s orc half were
good at. Or the human half if she was being honest with herself.

  Talon sat, still as a tree, Gruff perched beside them. Vola could imagine them hidden in the underbrush, stalking their prey with unending patience. Alone always. One ranger, one wolf.

  “You said you knew what it was like to lose someone,” Vola said. “And that’s why you wanted to help. Who did you lose?”

  Talon was quiet for so long, Vola wasn’t sure they were ever going to answer. And honestly, that was okay. Silence with Talon didn’t feel awkward like they were ignoring her. They could have been silently plotting to kill all of them, but Vola didn’t think that would feel this soothing.

  “My pack,” Talon said, making Vola jump. The darkness thickened between their words. “The wolves who raised me. They were all killed. All except Gruff.” They placed a hand on the big wolf’s head.

  “You…were raised by wolves.” Literally?

  “After my first family died. I have lost many people.”

  “I’m sorry. How did they die?”

  “A dragon wiped out the forest where the pack lived. I wasn’t there. I know they died, they must have died, but I never found them. Never learned what exactly happened.”

  Vola fell silent. She still had both parents and a host of relatives on the orc side. She hadn’t seen them in a while, but that wasn’t the same thing at all.

  Behind them, she could make out the murmurs of conversation from Sorrel and Lillie. Henri’s low chuckle answered Astrid’s higher voice.

  “I’m glad I had them for as long as I did,” Talon said. “Humans aren’t meant to be alone any more than wolves are. There should always be pack.”

  Vola glanced over at them. She would have described Talon as a loner. But really what did she know about them? Was it fair to call someone a loner if they were quiet and competent and just hadn’t found their space yet? Were they looking for a new pack? Somewhere to belong?

  Vola hadn’t really thought of herself as a pack creature before. The paladin academy had been full of people who should have felt like family but never did. She’d always imagined herself riding away from them. Alone. Why did that thought make her sad, now?

  A flare of light from the path lit up the distant shrubs and there was a thud that echoed through the tor. A garbled shout echoed up to them.

  Vola stood and drew her sword, then cocked her head to listen.

  She thought she heard a blade striking rock, and a yell of pain. Then much clearer and closer, she recognized Braydon’s voice.

  “Assassins!” he shouted. “Strike them down! They won’t stop us now. Ahh!” The last bit died off with an alarming gurgle.

  Vola growled, but only took a split second to decide what to do.

  Talon was already moving.

  “Sorrel, Lillie, to arms!” Vola cried. “Down the path. It’s an ambush.” And then she ran toward the sounds of fighting. It sounded like Braydon’s party couldn’t afford any delay.

  Vola charged down the hill, voicing her war cry. Just past the bend, she found Braydon flat on his back, his hand clutched to his side. A masked assassin stood over top of him.

  The assassin raised his blade to finish the job, and Vola leaped the last six feet of trail.

  She brought her sword down as she fell, severing the assassin’s head from his body just as her feet thudded to the ground.

  The assassin flickered and turned to mud before collapsing across the trail.

  “An illusion,” Braydon gasped at her feet.

  Vola stooped and peeled his hand away from the wound. “How bad is it?” she asked.

  Braydon grimaced and shoved her away. “Just a scrape. Get off me.”

  She decided he would live and figured she ought to save her energy for the rest of his party in case they were worse off.

  She stood as Lillie and Sorrel stampeded around the corner. “Lillie, guard Braydon in case any more get past us. Do that shield spell thing on him if you have to. Sorrel, with me.”

  She spun and led the halfling down the hill. Braydon’s companions were pinned against the rocks thirty feet down from where Braydon lay.

  As Vola ran, she caught sight of Talon who crouched above them. The ranger drew their knives and fell on the assassin closest to them.

  Six left. How many of these things could Lord Arthorel make and send against them?

  There had to be another spell caster nearby controlling the golems, but Vola didn’t see anyone obvious. Just the mud assassins.

  By the time it was done, bits of dirt and sticks littered the path, and Braydon’s party lay gasping on the ground.

  “Th-thank you,” Braydon’s wizard said, climbing to his feet. “We would not have made it without you.”

  Sorrel gave Braydon’s ranger a hand up. Huron, Vola was pretty sure his name was.

  “Is it over?” Lillie asked, coming down the path with Braydon draped over her shoulder. The man clutched his side, blood streaking down his armor.

  “I didn’t see the spell caster,” Vola said. “Did any of you catch him?”

  Sorrel and Lillie shook their heads while Braydon’s team looked blank.

  Braydon stumbled, and Lillie tried to catch them both, but he went down with a clatter.

  Vola blew out her breath in a little huff and stepped to his side.

  “Get away from me, monster,” he said.

  “Hey.” Lillie grabbed him by the chin and squeezed his cheeks until he squeaked. “Stop saying that. Or I won’t let her do what she’s planning to do.”

  Vola pulled his hand away from the wound and replaced it with her own. She couldn’t tell how deep the puncture went. Not yet. It might go further than she’d be able to heal. There was a limit to what she could absorb. But there was only one way to find out for sure.

  “You know, full plate doesn’t do you any good if you let them poke at its weak spots. Lady bless.”

  Light seared the space between her hand and his torn flesh, lighting up the night. Braydon cried out in pain and doubled up.

  Sweat broke out along Vola’s forehead as her side burned and ached. Braydon pushed her away, and this time, Vola let him.

  “What did you do that for?” Braydon grated.

  Lillie scowled at him and used gentle fingers to lift Vola’s chain mail. “She just saved your life. Twice, you ungrateful swine.”

  Braydon’s eyes widened as she revealed the rapidly healing wound just under Vola’s ribs. She’d taken as much of it as she could. It left him much better off, but his body would still be responsible for healing the rest on its own.

  He ducked his gaze, still frowning, and climbed to his feet. “I thought for sure we’d beat you here.”

  It was Vola’s turn to grimace. “Much good it would do you. The tor was a bust. There’s no one up there but an apothecary named Astrid. Turns out, she’s nice, but if you’re still looking for the missing townsfolk, head back to town.”

  Braydon scoffed. “You expect me to believe you? You probably just want all the glory to yourself.”

  “Hey now, Braydon,” the woman with the hand axes said. “She just saved our asses.”

  “You don’t believe me?” Vola said, standing abruptly. “Fine. Go see for yourself. Heck, I’ll lead the way.”

  She stomped up the hill, refusing to look back until she got to the crest where Astrid’s ruins started. When she glanced over her shoulder, Braydon followed on her heels, scowl fixed in place, while the others trailed behind them.

  She poked her head around the wall into Astrid’s sleeping chamber, mouth open to say “I told you so.”

  She froze. The room was empty. Except for the bloodstains.

  “Astrid?” she called, racing into the room. “Henri?”

  “What is it?” Lillie asked as she and Sorrel came around the corner. Lillie’s hands flew to her mouth.

  “Well, that’s not how we left it,” Sorrel said, hands on her hips.

  “Check the other rooms,” Vola said. But the sick feeling in the pit of
her stomach told her the two wouldn’t be there. The bloodstains were a big clue.

  Sorrel and Lillie scrambled to obey. Where was Talon?

  Vola strode for the doorway, but Braydon deliberately stepped up in front of her. “Is this some kind of trick?”

  “No, this is serious. They’re missing.” She made eye contact with the other three warriors in Braydon’s group. “Search the tor. At least one assassin must have made it this far, and we never caught the spell caster. Be careful, they know how to be invisible. Who knows what other tricks they have up their sleeves?”

  They glanced at each other for only a moment before scattering.

  “Hey,” Braydon huffed indignantly. “You can’t just—”

  Vola pushed past him without listening.

  She searched the ruins herself. And the surrounding overgrown landscape. She even searched up and down the path that led to the summit.

  She couldn’t find Henri or Astrid.

  Or Talon.

  Nineteen

  Vola dashed up the path, fists clenched hard enough to make her knuckles creak. Was Henri dead? Injured? Or just missing? The tang of blood hit her nose as she passed into Astrid’s main room, and she fought for control over a surge of rage. Was the blood Astrid’s or Henri’s? Which was worse? She couldn’t deal with this not knowing.

  Braydon’s people waited for her at attention while Braydon perched sullenly on the edge of a block.

  The woman stepped forward and saluted. Vola blinked and slowly returned the salute.

  “No sign of any other assassins, ma’am,” she said. “We were as thorough as we could be. Obron has a spell that can detect magic, and there weren’t any illusions anywhere on the grounds.”

  Vola’s lips tightened. “Lillie has something similar. They must have escaped. Thank you, anyway.”

  “We didn’t find anything either,” Lillie said.

  Vola ran a hand over her hair and down her braid. “And I still don’t know where Talon is.”

  “Here,” a raspy voice said.

  Vola spun and found the ranger in the doorway, bow in hand. “Talon.”