Library of Absolution
Page 1
Library of Absolution
Legacy of the Book Mesmer, Book 1
Jennifer Derrick
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About the Author
Also by Jennifer Derrick
Acknowledgments
Afterword
CTP Email List
Dreamthief
Skin & Bones
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
* * *
Library of Absolution
Copyright ©2018 Jennifer Derrick
All rights reserved.
* * *
Summary: Alarick Brandon is the wizard who operates The Keep, a refuge for magical people fleeing the persecution of the Ministry. A bitter realist, Alarick knows it's only a matter of time until the Ministry succeeds in eradicating magic from the world, so he has been careful to avoid personal involvement. But when Elissa Stone arrives at The Keep, Alarick's ordered world descends into chaos…
* * *
ISBN: 978-1-63422-330-0 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-63422-331-7 (e-book)
Cover Design by: Marya Heidel
Typography by: Courtney Knight
Editing by: Kelly Risser
For all the readers who know that books have the power to change the world.
1
Alarick Brandon could recall the exact date on which love had fled from him. Nearly seventeen years to the day, love and compassion were replaced in his mind and heart by duty and control. The fight had not been easy, to be certain. Every day was a new struggle to control his emotions, to subsume every action under duty and excise love and even friendship from his mind.
He made certain no one saw his struggle, the potential weakness they might exploit. Others only saw the cold, hard shell of a man love had left behind. If they pitied him for it, they were wise enough to keep their pity to themselves. If they hated him, well, that was the idea, wasn't it? Their dislike kept him from even having to consider messy entanglements and emotions.
Duty bought Alarick to his desk one summer morning, as it did everyday, to work through the records and accounts of the Keep, the refuge he operated for displaced magical persons. A large castle filled with witches, wizards, and shape shifters didn't run itself. Alarick would not have chosen this responsibility and did not embrace it even now, but he hadn't run from it when it was foisted upon him.
Footsteps thundered down the hall, causing him to pause his scribbling and calculations.
"Sir! Sir!" the young messenger shouted well before he reached Alarick's office.
Alarick sighed at the disruption to the castle's peace. When the man pushed into his office, it took every bit of Alarick's hard-earned control not to remove his wand from his coat pocket and turn the disrespectful messenger into a toad.
"What is this about? I have work to do, in case you cannot see that," Alarick said, waving his hand over the piles of paperwork.
His voice was cold and deep, a magnificent drawling baritone that commanded absolute respect when spoken at normal volume, absolute fear when raised in anger.
The young man panted, hands on his knees in the office doorway. Alarick flicked his fingers, urging the man to get on with it. He thought this one's name might be Edward, but he couldn't be certain. At the moment, he did not care.
"I can see, Master Brandon, and I humbly apologize," he wheezed. He bowed before the man who was dressed from head to toe in black and seated behind the large mahogany desk. "But you wanted to know if there was another attack."
The messenger said nothing further. Alarick raised a dark eyebrow and set his quill aside.
"I did," he said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "Ideally, I wanted to be informed before the next attack. However, from your panic and your phrasing, I suppose it's too late for that."
"There was no warning, sir," the man began, the sweat on his brow now having nothing to do with his exertions. "We knew the Ministry was active in the Lake District, but we had no indications that they were targeting the village of Keldon. We were watching another village which we believed would be the next target."
"And you were wrong," Alarick said. It wasn't a question. "Very well. How many survivors remain in Keldon?"
"None, sir. None. Everything was burned to the ground. The residents were dragged into the streets and killed."
"And you searched everywhere? You checked for hidden bolt holes, particularly those that might have been charmed or enchanted to disappear?"
"Sir, we are wizards. We cast every revealing spell we know. No life remains in Keldon."
Since Alarick hadn't yet turned him into a toad, the young messenger began to relax and dared to sit in one of the chairs that faced the desk. Alarick got to his feet and stood behind his desk, hands braced on the mahogany top. Only his pale fingers were visible, the sleeves of his frock coat extending all the way down to his knuckles.
Though the office was quite large, it seemed much smaller when Alarick leaned across the desk, loomed over the man, and said, "Yes, but we've had instances before where your skills proved ineffectual, have we not?"
It wasn't a question that demanded an answer. The answer was obvious. The messenger remained silent, although he shrank from the black eyes that bored into his soul, exposing every flaw.
"Very well. I'll go to Keldon and see for myself. It is possible you are correct, but it's equally possible that you are not," Alarick said after a moment.
Alarick swept out of the room, grabbing his cloak off the peg by the door on his way out. He swirled it over his shoulders and it billowed behind him as he strode up the corridor. The messenger scrambled to follow.
More messengers milled about in the castle's forecourt, all of them secretly grateful that they hadn't been the one to inform Master Brandon of their failure to prevent yet another attack. When Alarick appeared in the weak sunshine on the castle’s steps, every man straightened to attention.
Alarick strode through their ranks and pointed to two older men. "You two. Come with me."
"Yes, sir," they answered as one.
The three men moved away from the group and drew their wands. With a quick flick of their wrists, they transformed into carriage-sized falcons, each with a wand clutched in its talons. The rush of wind as they took off caused the other messengers to clutch their hats to their heads to keep them from flying off. The messengers watched until the falcons were out of sight, then hurried into the castle to find work elsewhere.
Alarick and the two men flew northwest, following the coastline to the Lake District. Keldon wasn't on any human map as it was a village for magical people. But Alarick knew every magical village scattered throughout England. Granted, there were far fewer to keep
track of these days. They fell to the Ministry at an average rate of one per month, although that rate had increased of late.
Alarick tried to keep ahead of the tide of destruction, stationing spies and messengers up and down the length of England, but too often it was to no avail. The Ministry of The One Truth was masterful at keeping their plans and movements secret. Alarick had some success, but not enough. And he was running out of time.
If his calculations were correct, there were only fifteen magical villages left in all of England. Maybe a few more in Wales and Scotland, but not many. According to his sources, villages were falling at the same rate throughout the world. Despite his efforts and those of other wizards throughout the world, it wouldn't be long before all magical people were eliminated. Such was the goal of the Ministry.
After circling the smoking remains of Keldon for half an hour to ensure no Ministry remained behind, Alarick and the other wizards landed softly in the village center. As soon as they touched down, they transformed into men, wands drawn in defensive positions.
When no threats emerged, they spread out through the village. The buildings formed a circle around the central courtyard with side streets shooting off like wheel spokes away from the center. The village only covered a few acres altogether. Almost all the buildings were residences. Only one major shop sold the few things that couldn't be made at home.
This wasn't unusual in magical villages. Wizards and witches were a resourceful lot and tended to grow and make most of their own food and textiles. There was farmland on the outskirts of the village, but no animals grazed there now. When the Ministry sacked a village, they took anything salable, including livestock. As Alarick passed the gardens of each home, he noticed that these, too, had been razed in hasty harvest.
All was silent. Not even a bird chirped in the trees, as though the animals were afraid to utter a sound lest they meet the same fate as the residents of this place. And what a fate it was. The Ministry was made up of non-magical humans who fought with guns and swords, not wands and spells. They left quite a mess behind. The crows and buzzards were already circling overhead. Alarick didn't avert his eyes from the bodies strewn through the streets, however. This was his responsibility now. He alone bore daily witness to the depravities of the Ministry. He crouched next to each body, checking for life. Nothing.
While bent over the mangled body of a young boy, he spied movement out of the corner of his eye. A blur of blue streaked by in the trees to his left. Without looking in that direction, he stood, unwilling to give away his awareness of the threat. Casually he turned and walked in the opposite direction.
Further down the street he caught the motion again, the same streak of blue in his peripheral vision. Someone was following him and doing a damn lousy job of it. If they sought to ambush him, he would make certain they were disappointed.
He kept his wand ready, but tucked inside his cloak, as he turned toward the threat. He slipped between two houses and emerged into the gardens behind them. Farther off the main path, these gardens had not been razed. The plants still stood tall, offering cover should Alarick desire it. A thin lawn separated the gardens from the forest beyond.
Alarick contemplated his position. Out on the grass, away from the shrubbery, he would be exposed. He headed for the grass. Let the bastards come for him. He was ready.
Alone and defiant, he stood on the grassy strip, yet no one raced out to engage him. He strode down the row of gardens, gaze sweeping left and right, seeking the threat. Near the fifth house, he spied a slip of blue fabric poking out from under a row of plants. Without hesitation Alarick drew his wand, pointed it in the direction of the fabric, and said, "Adligo." A jet of yellow light shot from his wand and wrapped around whatever or whoever was under the plants. His victim hit the ground with a thud.
Alarick ruthlessly shoved the plants aside, flattening them in his haste to confront his pursuer. Facedown on the ground, a young woman in a simple blue dress fought to turn over, but Alarick's spell bound her legs and arms. He quickly flipped her over onto her back and searched her for weapons. Finding none, he stood back and gazed at her.
She wasn't as young as he'd thought. Based on her slight build, he'd estimated her to be in her teens, but she was clearly in her mid-twenties, a woman, not a girl. Of course, compared to his age of thirty-four, she was still young. Her hair was such a deep red that it was almost maroon, although the mud spatter made it a less attractive color than it might otherwise have been.
She glared at him, hazel eyes narrowed in anger, but he simply glared back and waited for her to speak. It didn't take long.
"Well, go on. Kill me," she said.
"Why?" he asked. "Are you with the Ministry?"
"No, but you're going to kill me, anyway. Why else would you be here?"
Alarick shook his head. "Stupid girl. Clearly you can see I'm a wizard," he pointed his wand at her bindings. "What reason would I have to kill you, if you aren't Ministry?"
The woman was silent.
"Exactly," Alarick said. "Now, who are you?"
She seemed to be debating talking to him further.
"Will it help if I release you?"
She nodded.
"Fine. But don't run. I assure you I know a great many more complex spells than that little parlor trick, and I will not hesitate to use them."
He flicked his wand in her direction and the bindings disappeared. She sat up and scrubbed at the mud on her face, giving her pale skin a healthy pink glow. Alarick looked away. Her appearance was inconsequential.
"Here," he said as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. She took it, but didn't say thank you.
"Appalling manners," Alarick muttered.
She tried to hand the handkerchief back, but he waved her away.
"Who are you?" he asked again.
"Elissa Stone. My house is, was, over there," she pointed down the street to a group of burned-out cottages.
"Were you here when the Ministry struck?" Alarick asked, squatting down next to her, pushing his cloak out behind him as he did so.
"No. I was away. I'd gone…"
She said no more. Alarick arched his eyebrow at her.
"Where did you go, Miss Stone?"
"I don't want to say. I don't know you."
"Fair enough. It doesn't matter, anyway," he said.
"If you aren't Ministry come to finish the job, why are you here?" she asked him.
"I came to see if anyone survived the attack. Since you apparently did, I'm here to make you an offer."
Elissa scooted back on the grass but Alarick laughed, a booming sound in the silence of the village.
"Not that kind of offer, Miss Stone. I assure you my interests do not lie in that direction. No, my name is Alarick Brandon. Do you know of me?"
She shook her head once, but stopped, considered. "Wait. Yes. My father mentioned you once. You run some home for displaced magical people."
"Precisely. As I assume you have no family left alive, I'm extending you an offer to come with me. I can provide food, shelter, and protection from the Ministry for a long as you need or want it."
"No, thank you," Elissa said.
Alarick, unused to being refused, stood quickly.
"Then you are a fool," he said, looking down at Elissa. "Do you think you can blend in with the normal humans? Go to London, find a place to live, and avoid the Ministry's notice forever?"
"No. I could try, I suppose, but no. I plan to stay here," she said.
The stubborn lift of her chin amused Alarick, as did her naiveté.
"Here?" Alarick laughed, but this time it was a cruel, humorless sound. "Let's assume that the Ministry doesn't come back to check for stragglers. They probably will, so you'll be dead within a week. But even if that doesn't happen, you want to stay here? With no food? No help? With dead bodies in the streets that will soon become infested with plague and pestilence? By all means, don't let me take you from such luxury."
He turned on his boot heel and strode back to the village center.
Alarick was already in the central courtyard when she caught up with him. The other two wizards were coming toward them from a side street. Elissa stopped and watched them cautiously.
"They're with me," Alarick said.
"If I go with you," she began, staring off at her burned-out home, "Can I bring something with me?"
"Of course," he said bowing slightly. "Bring whatever you need. Do you have a trunk or something with your belongings?"
"It's a bit larger than a trunk."
"Well, what is it?" Alarick asked impatiently. "We need to leave here before the Ministry returns."
"It's a library," she said.
There was silence in the town once again. The other two wizards had arrived and overheard her comment. They looked at each other and Alarick incredulously.
"A library," Alarick finally said. "You are aware that the possession of books by a woman is forbidden?"
"By the Ministry. Of course I know that. But not by you?" she asked hopefully.
"No, not by me. But I'm more than a little curious how you managed to keep such a thing hidden. I would have thought the Ministry would have burned any books first thing upon arriving here."
"I'm sure they would have, had they found them," Elissa said, turning and walking quickly up the street toward her house.
Intrigued despite his desire to quickly leave Keldon, Alarick followed her. He motioned for the other two wizards to keep watch while he was gone.