Storms of Magic Boxed Set: Books 1-4

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Storms of Magic Boxed Set: Books 1-4 Page 5

by Hylton, PT


  But her father had made the choice to surrender, and she had to respect that. Now, she had her own choice to make. She could either run south and save herself, or try to save him. She didn’t give that choice more than a moment’s thought. She wouldn’t let this injustice stand. She was going to set this right.

  If her father’s sword had really been found at the scene of the murder, that meant someone was trying to frame him. But who? And why? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to rest until she found out.

  Her first step was to do as her father had instructed. He’d told her to go see their friend. The collector.

  The collector was her father’s nickname for Jarvi, a man who lived in the woods east of the city. He was their best customer. They called him the collector because of his constant desire for Arcadian-made items that he didn’t really need. He had no love for the Holdgate government, and his home was deep enough in the woods that she should be safe there while she figured out her next step.

  She reached the city wall and paused, waiting in the early morning shadows as she formulated the best approach. The western side of Holdgate, the seaward side, was closely protected with guards watching the walls and Storm Callers nearby to bring the ocean itself to their defense if an enemy ship approached.

  The east side of the city was more lightly guarded. Many Holdgatesmen made their living in the dense forest east of the city wall, hunting and trapping game large and small. It seemed impossible to imagine an enemy army somehow making it through the mountains to the east of them and attacking through the forest.

  The guard would be light, but there would be guards.

  She waited in the shadows until a group of four men walked by. They all carried axes, so they were clearly forest-bound, headed out into the woods to begin their day’s work. It was still early, but workers in Kaldfell had to take advantage of the long days of summer to combat the short days of winter. Abbey slipped in behind the four men, close enough that she’d appear to be part of their group but not close enough that they would wonder what she was doing. She hoped if she held her sword at her side, the guards wouldn’t notice it, or if they did, maybe they’d mistake it for an ax.

  As they rounded the corner and came into view of the gate, Abbey peered around the men. What she saw caused her to mutter a curse. Four guards stood at the gate—double the usual number. They were carefully inspecting the faces of everyone who passed by, and they seemed to be paying special attention to the women.

  Damn it; they’re looking for me, she thought.

  Still, she had to take her chances. There was no way into the woods other than through this gate.

  She pushed closer to the four men, and one furthest back gave her an odd look. He was a tall, thin man, the youngest of the group. She gave him a smile she intended to be sexy, but from the look he gave her, it probably came off as goofy.

  No matter, they were at the gate now. She pushed forward as the men stepped toward the opening in the wall.

  One of the guards looked at her, and his eyes narrowed. He elbowed the guard next to him and nodded toward Abbey.

  So much for the subtle approach. All she needed to do was buy herself a moment.

  She stuck out her foot, hooking it around the foot of the tall, gangly man in front of her. Then she put a hand on his back and pushed.

  The man stumbled forward, crashing into the two guards who had been looking at Abbey.

  “Hey, watch your sea-cursed step, boy!” one of the guards shouted.

  The other three men stopped and turned toward the guards. The biggest one, who stood a head taller than any of the guards, glared at them. “Who you calling boy?”

  Abbey knew this was her chance. She slipped around the woodsmen and walked through the gate.

  Another one of the woodsmen chimed in. “We break our backs cutting wood all day so you can sit on your fat asses watching this gate, and all we ever get from you is disrespect.”

  The guard closest to Abbey threw his hands into the air in frustration. “He ran right into us!”

  The gangly man just looked confused. “Somebody pushed me.”

  Abbey looked back toward the city, and she paused, surprised at the familiar face she saw staring back at her. It was Dustin. He was waving her over.

  There wasn’t time for her to talk to him now. Besides, he was probably helping the city guards track her down. She stepped quickly into the gap between the woodsmen.

  Both the guards and the woodsmen turned toward the spot where Abbey had been standing moments before. Then one of the guards spotted her. “It’s the Arcadian girl. Grab her!”

  “I think you gentlemen are confused,” Abbey called over her shoulder. “I better be going. Keep up the great work!”

  With that, she sprinted into the forest, not waiting to see if they would follow. The last thing she heard was Dustin’s voice cutting through the shouts as he called to her. “Run, Abbey! Run and don’t look back.”

  Chapter Eight

  Abbey made her way through the woods and down the narrow trail toward Jarvi’s home. She heard the guards chasing after her at first—it was impossible not to hear them with the way they crashed through the undergrowth like a pack of wild boar—but she quickly lost them. The path she was on was difficult to follow. If she hadn’t accompanied her father a hundred times to drop off deliveries for Jarvi, she might have lost it, too.

  Once she was certain she had lost the guards, Abbey slowed her pace to a brisk walk.

  It took her just over an hour to reach Jarvi’s. Although the man lived relatively close to town, he guarded his privacy by tending to the forest’s natural growth near his home. The only access point was a break in the thorn bushes, cut at a zig-zagging angle so it couldn’t be seen by those passing from either direction. Many trappers and woodcutters passed those thorn bushes every day for years, never knowing Jarvi’s home existed.

  Abbey ducked through the gap in the bushes, careful not to catch her clothes on the thorns that protruded well into the path. Normally when walking through this gap, she cursed Jarvi for the inconvenience his paranoia caused her. Not today. The fact that so few knew he lived here was what was going to keep her alive.

  After passing through the gap, she exited into a clearing where she could see Jarvi’s house through the trees. It was a log cabin, much larger than most homes in the city. The man’s eye for detail was clear in the way the plants near his home were carefully tended. It was strange seeing this idyllic log cabin hidden away amongst the brambles. Abbey never got used to it no matter how many times she saw it.

  She walked to the door and raised her hand to knock, then paused. Jarvi was incredibly paranoid. What would he think of her showing up unannounced, sword in hand?

  It was too late to worry about that now. She knocked, then took a step back, holding her sword at her side in a neutral, unthreatening position, keeping it in the open so it didn’t appear that she was trying to hide anything.

  She heard footsteps inside, and then the door flew open.

  Jarvi glared out at her. He held a long metal rod with a blue ember on the end of it. She’d never seen it before, but from the way he held it, she knew it was a weapon. He blinked hard when he saw her as if she was the last person he expected to find standing here so early in the morning.

  “Abbey? What the hell are you doing here?” He looked around behind her. “Where’s your father?” Suddenly, his face brightened. “Hey, did he get an amphorald? Is that why you’re here?”

  She shook her head. “No. This is something else. Can I come inside?”

  * * *

  A concerned look crossed Jarvi’s face, but he quickly nodded and waved her inside.

  She followed him through the entryway, which was lit by a magitech light. As they walked through the home, she noticed other pieces of her father’s work on display. A flickering flame that gave off no smoke sat in the fireplace. She noticed a device that flashed with light when anyone but the owner came within a hundr
ed yards. That must have been how Jarvi had known she was at the door so quickly, she realized.

  Jarvi was a short, thick man whose muscular frame belied his bookish nature. His hair was white, but he still had all of it.

  He was fascinated by all things magical, and despite living his reclusive lifestyle away from the city, he somehow always seemed to have more information than anyone else on the goings-on in distant places like Arcadia and Roneland. Her father had told her Jarvi had made his fortune by establishing new trade routes shortly after the Mad Days. He’d long since stopped actively traveling and trading, but he kept in contact with many of the people he’d worked with. Benjamin said he’d seen people from a wide variety of regions coming and going at the older man’s home over the years.

  But the one thing that fascinated Jarvi more than anything else was magic. He was constantly working his connections for amphoralds, the gems required for the crafting of magical devices—magitech to those in the know. When he got his hands on a gem, he gave it to Benjamin and paid him an extravagant amount to make him new and unique creations.

  Jarvi led Abbey to the large sitting room and offered her a chair. When they were both seated, he looked at her pointedly. “Tell me what happened.”

  “It’s my father. He’s been framed for murder.” She told the whole story, starting with the city guards showing up in the middle of the night, and continuing through her slipping past the guards at the city gates.

  Jarvi looked more and more disturbed as her story progressed. He gripped the metal staff laid across his lap so tightly that his fingers turned white. “And your father told you to come to me?”

  Abbey nodded. “He said you’d know what to do.”

  Jarvi looked down at the metal staff for a long moment before answering. “This was the first thing your father ever sold me.”

  Abbey tilted her head and looked at the metal rod again. It didn’t seem to be made in her father’s style.

  Jarvi held up the staff. “It’s a weapon from his time back in Arcadia. It delivers a fierce shock, a bit like lightning when the blue ember is touched to the skin.” He looked up at her. “There are things you don’t know about your father, Abbey. Things he wanted to tell you, but he never had the courage. He told me if anything ever happened to him, I should tell you the truth. I guess this qualifies.”

  Abbey leaned forward, her heart suddenly beating faster. What was this guy talking about? She and her father told each other everything.

  “You know your father trained at the Academy in Arcadia,” Jarvi continued, “but do you know what he did after he graduated?”

  “Of course. He married my mother and became a magitech smith.”

  Jarvi shook his head slowly. “I’m afraid that’s only partly true. In Arcadia, only graduates of the Academy are allowed to perform magic, and only the rich and powerful are admitted to the Academy.”

  Abbey was still confused. “My father’s not rich or powerful.”

  Jarvi smiled. “He was born both. His father was one of the most powerful men in the city. Benjamin’s admittance to the Academy was a lock. After graduation, he decided he wanted to give back to the city that had given his family so much. So, he became a Hunter.”

  “A hunter?” She’d never heard her father talk of hunting animals.

  “Not like you’re thinking. Hunters in Arcadia track down and punish unauthorized magic users.”

  Abbey’s eyes narrowed. “What?” There was no way her father would punish people for using magic. He talked all the time about how magic should be taught freely to anyone who wanted to learn rather than just those accepted to a school like in Arcadia or taken on as an apprentice like in Holdgate.

  Jarvi held up a hand. “Don’t judge him too harshly. He thought he was doing the right thing at the time. It was your mother who woke him up to the truth.”

  Abbey sat up a little straighter at that. Could it be she wasn’t only going to learn more about her father, but her mother as well?

  “Your mother had secretly been using magic since she was a young girl. It came as a surprise to her as much as anyone when she fell in love with a Hunter. She told him the truth about herself and her magic the night before the wedding, forcing him to choose between turning her in and accepting her for who she really was. It was a difficult decision, but your father loved her too much to turn away from her, and he went through with the wedding.”

  He held up the metal rod. “That was when Benjamin began to question his beliefs. How could he spend his days hunting unauthorized magic users and spend his nights sleeping with one? Then you came along and complicated things even further. As the daughter of two magic users, it seemed likely you would inherit a little of their abilities.”

  Abbey thought of her limited magic skills and chuckled. “Very little, as it turns out.”

  Jarvi smiled at that. “Benjamin began making plans to leave the city. He plotted in secret, knowing Chancellor Adrien wouldn’t allow a graduate of the Academy to run loose without his supervision. Still, somehow, the truth came out. The other Hunters, your father’s friends and co-workers, captured your mother and executed her.”

  Abbey gritted her teeth. This wasn’t the story she’d heard. Why had her father lied?

  “So, Benjamin took you and fled north. He had only the clothes on his back and this shocker.” He nodded toward the metal rod. “His original plan was to settle north of the city, but when he got there, he realized the Hunters were still after him, so he kept going. He showed up in Holdgate penniless and without a plan. Until he met me.

  “He traded me this shocker for help in setting up his blacksmith shop. He’d learned many of the basic blacksmith skills when learning to craft magitech in the Academy, and the rest came easily to him.”

  Abbey stared at the shocker. How many people had her father hurt with that thing? People whose only crime was using magic without the approval of some self-proclaimed authority. The idea of it angered her. But, on the other hand, he’d learned the error of his ways, and he’d risked his life to take her away from that world.

  She looked at Jarvi. “You helped him in his hour of need. Maybe that’s why he sent me to you. He’s hoping you’ll do it again.”

  Jarvi thought about that for a moment before responding. “Perhaps that’s part of it. But I believe there’s more happening here. He knows that to prove him innocent, we’ll need to find the real killer. And I have a pretty good idea where to start.”

  Abbey opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the device in the corner began flashing.

  Jarvi’s face went pale. “Someone’s here.”

  The device flashed faster and faster.

  “No, not someone.” Jarvi set the end of the shocker on the floor and used it as a cane to push himself to his feet. “Lots of someones. Abbey, I believe the city guard has found you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dustin stood on the deck of The Foggy Day. After a lifetime of dreaming about this, he was finally on the bow of his own ship. Yet, for some reason, he was staring back at Holdgate instead of out at the sea.

  He’d been aboard for nearly two hours. He’d met the crew, who seemed like an honest, if not overly ambitious, group. He’d seen his modest but pleasant quarters below deck. He’d stood on the foremost deck and placed his staff in the slot where he’d rest it when he was calling down the winds that would carry the ship on its journey.

  The captain had given him a tour of the rest of the ship from bow to stern. He’d even seen the ship’s boat, the small dinghy carried by the ship and used to carry small groups of sailors to shore or to other ships. Now that he’d seen it all, he was back where he’d started: standing on the bow in his position as Storm Caller.

  He glanced up at the sail, now hanging limply. He’d be in charge of filling that sail and sending this ship gliding across the water.

  So why was he thinking about Abbey?

  He’d searched the city for nearly an hour, checking out her father’
s blacksmith shop, now empty, the door left unlocked and the signs of a struggle evident to anyone bold enough to step inside. He’d checked the other places he knew she’d liked to hang out as a child, like the market, but to no avail. He’d finally seen her near the east gate, spotting her just in time to watch her slip through and into the woods beyond.

  And that had been that. There would have been no use in going after her. He’d barely set foot in those woods, and she was in them all the time. He’d never catch her. And the city guard wouldn’t either. If she were smart, she’d get deep into those woods and then cut south. Never come back to Holdgate. If she did that, she’d be safe. Still, he couldn’t stop worrying about her.

  Part of it was that he knew she’d been right when she’d accused him of ignoring her. It hadn’t been intentional…mostly. He’d just been busy. But he did have to admit there had been one or two occasions where he’d been with someone important and seen her. In those cases, he’d done his best to avoid making eye contact with her.

  And now she was in real trouble, and he was getting ready to ship out tomorrow morning. But he wasn’t sure what else he could do.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

  Dustin turned to find Roy standing behind him. “What?”

  He gestured up at the sail. “I saw you staring. No shame in it. This ship is yours as much as it is mine. Take pride in it. Even if it isn’t Thunderclap.

  Dustin nodded. Now that he was aboard, he saw the elegant design of the vessel. The way it was laid out so carefully, so precisely. They’d be shipping out with a crew of fifty men and women, and each of them would have to know his or her job and perform it well if The Foggy Day wanted to keep pace with the larger ships.

  “Do you know much about shipbuilding in Holdgate after the Mad Days?” Roy asked.

  Dustin shook his head, surprised at the question. Harald, his old mentor, hadn’t wanted to talk about the way things had been before the time of Storm Callers. Dustin knew some sort of plague had washed over the land, causing men and women to go crazy with anger. They’d destroyed not only each other, but much of the world that came before. Dustin wasn’t sure how long the Mad Days had lasted, but there were still some alive who remembered it. Probably like that old Storm Caller who’d nearly drowned him.

 

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