by TR Cameron
The Last Dance
Scions of Magic™ Book Eight
TR Cameron
Michael Anderle
Martha Carr
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2020 TR Cameron & Michael Anderle
Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design
http://jcalebdesign.com / [email protected]
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, June 2020
ebook ISBN: 978-1-64202-950-5
Print ISBN: 978-1-64202-951-2
The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-20 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.
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
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Author Notes - TR Cameron
Author Notes - Martha Carr
Other series in the Oriceran Universe:
Other LMBPN Publishing Books
Connect with The Authors
The Last Dance Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Dave Hicks
Deb Mader
Kerry Mortimer
Larry Omans
Jeff Eaton
If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!
Editor
Skyhunter Editing Team
Dedication
For those who seek wonder around every corner and in each turning page. And, as always, for Dylan and Laurel.
— TR Cameron
Chapter One
Caliste Leblanc held her sword in a diagonal guard in front of her body, which was positioned in a fighting stance that minimized her opponent’s target options. A trickle of nervous sweat emerged behind her ear, traveled down the side of her neck under her red curls, and slid inside the collar of her Def Leppard t-shirt. With a shiver, she glared across the dimly lit space that separated her from her foe.
The Dark Elf had an infuriating smile on her face, one of several that she seemingly had ready at a moment’s notice to use in taunting her student. Her unbound white hair fell over her shoulders in strong contrast to her ebony skin. She wore a thin leather jacket that the girl knew from experience was far tougher than it looked and pants of the same material tucked into high boots. The sword she angled in a matching position was slightly shorter than Cali’s and single-handed, where hers had enough length to be wielded with a double grasp if desired. At the moment, she desired.
Her muscles trembled. It’s so damned heavy I need two hands. I wish she’d quit tormenting me and start.
Nylotte slipped forward almost without seeming to move and brought her blade up from below to knock hers aside. She recovered quickly, but the Drow hadn’t pressed her advantage. Instead, she said, “You could be dead right now. Perhaps you should devote all your brain to the battle, as whatever portion you’ve currently committed seems inadequate to the task.”
The girl growled inside where her teacher wouldn’t hear. Shut up. You’re inadequate. Fyre, from his position curled on a crate on the far side of the basement, sent amusement over the channel that linked them to tell her she’d “thought loudly” again, whatever that meant. The smile that appeared on the other woman’s face gave credibility to her hypothesis that the Dark Ef could read minds.
Cali stepped forward and brought her sword down in a diagonal swipe at her foe and twisted her wrists to sneak the blade under a block. Her target had already slipped out of the way, which left her unbalanced when her weapon failed to connect. She darted ahead and to her left, and the roundhouse kick that would have connected with her skull only managed to disrupt her hairstyle.
She spun and raised one hand off the hilt to cast a ball of force at Nylotte’s head. The Drow raised her hand, caught it in her palm, and drained the magic away so its impact was negligible. And neatly added my power to her reserves. Wench. The other woman had taught her that skill, but it was nowhere near as automatic for the student as it seemed to be for the teacher. She drove forward again and launched force at her adversary’s feet as a distraction while she slashed horizontally at her chest.
Nylotte skipped back but almost immediately stabbed forward. The girl coated her free hand with force and batted the blade away and her mentor disengaged and nodded. “Excellent move, but against some weapons, it might not work. Other magic swords, for instance. It’s possible they could be immune to magical shields.”
She frowned. “And I assume there’s no way to know in advance, right?” The other woman shook her head, and she grinned. “Well, let’s test this one. You put a shield up and I’ll try to stab you through it.”
Her teacher rolled her eyes and attacked again.
They continued with the training for fifteen minutes before breaking to discuss tactics and strategy. The Dark Elf lowered herself into the lotus position to one side of the middle of the circle formed by separate concentric runed rings in the center of the dark basement. She gestured for Cali to sit in front of her. When she tried to set her blade at her side, her teacher sighed as if her student was an idiot. “No, lay it across your legs.”
She was sure her confusion showed on her face as she complied, placed the hilt on the right, and balanced the weapon on her thighs. “What’s all this, then?” Her attempt at a humorous British accent failed to draw a smile from her companion.
Nylotte shook her head. “It’s time for a challenge. You mentioned testing the sword. That is something we must do and there’s no occasion like the present.”
“I only got it last night. Do we have to do everything today? I could use a nap.” Again, the joke failed. Okay, fine, be that way. “What do we need to discover?”
She smiled. “The most important thing of all. Whether the sword will choose to work with you or against you.”
“What?”
The Drow nodded. “It’s almost certain your sword is sentient. That can be a bonus or it can be a nightmare. If you’re unable to convince the blade to be your ally, it
will be useless for anything more than hanging on a wall as a symbol of your house’s former strength.”
Ouch. “Leblanc is stronger than several of the other houses.”
Her teacher shrugged. “Perhaps, but it’s irrelevant. Eventually, someone will force you into a position where you need to defend against a weapon like that.” She gestured at the sword. “And when they do, if you don’t have the same bond with yours that they have with theirs, you’re unlikely to succeed.”
“It doesn’t matter. If the house is defeated, so be it. Atreo can come live with me on the surface and New Atlantis can go to hell.”
“And what if the sword’s cooperation is necessary to free your brother?”
A chill started at her toes and had become a stabbing icicle by the time it reached her brain. The idea that she had yet another thing to do to release Atreo from his magical stasis—other than beating the antidote for the poison out of the Malniets—hadn’t even been a tiny possibility in her mind. Nylotte had wrecked the serenity that accompanied the apparent illusion of progress.
“Damn it. Do you really think that’s possible?”
Something that hinted toward sympathy appeared in the Drow’s eyes, but it flickered away as quickly as it had arrived. “We don’t know. Which is why we need to find out. Now, here, and in a controlled way.”
Cali sighed. “Okay, tell me what you want me to do.”
The instructions had been frustratingly simple. “Connect with the sword. Use your mind, your magic, your spirit, whatever. It should recognize you through the blood-bond you share with the other members of your family who have used it.”
“And you know that how exactly?” she’d asked,
The Dark Elf had merely shrugged. “It’s simply a guess. But, as someone who uses my entire brain most of the time, my guesses are fairly good.” With that, Nylotte had moved outside the circle and brought up each of the shields in turn. When she had asked why a moment before the last barrier snapped into place, her teacher had shaken her head and replied, “Possession is a possibility.”
She was now alone with the sword, isolated from the world by magic, and expected to discover how to “connect” with what was, by all appearances, an inanimate object.
Yeah, my life’s not weird at all. Not in the least. She sighed and closed her eyes as she placed her right hand on the turquoise gem that adorned the hilt. Her left fingertips slid gently along the blade and explored the runes etched there. Time had not yet permitted the decoding of the marks so she didn’t know if they were a message or simply a decoration.
Initially, she channeled her magic into her hands but didn’t give it a specific task, merely released it to explore the object. She’d had good luck discovering secrets that way before and thought of it as almost a triggerable intuition. The idea that it might have something to do with her other strange magical sense—the ability to taste intention when she touched people—rose into her mind, only to be quickly banished to a secluded corner. Concentrate, Cali.
As her finger traced a rune, she felt a pulse against the magic centered upon the gem. She kept her eyes closed and her senses open, moved her hand to the point of the sword again, and worked systematically down it, feeling the perfectly rounded edges of each rune that ran along the flat of the blade. She took note of those that provoked a reaction and discovered there were nine.
Of course there are nine. Why wouldn’t there be? Nine houses, nine districts, nine matriarchs or patriarchs, and nine symbols. Frankly, I’m a little tired of nines.
She packed that thought away as well. They were positioned in such a way that she could touch them all at once. She did so, stretched her fortunately long fingers a little, and pushed magic through them. Nothing happened and with a frown, she tried it again but this time, sent both power and intention into the blade. The result was identical. She sighed, and the motion caused her right pinky to brush against the gem.
Like a sudden portal she hadn’t known was there, she was sucked forward and down and the world blurred from the speed at which her consciousness descended into the sword. She landed softly in a patch of dirt that had once probably been covered by grass, to judge from the few dead pieces still visible on the earth next to her face. A quick inventory of her body revealed no damage from the fall or whatever it was, and she climbed first to her knees and then to her feet. She moved to brush her clothes off and frowned when she registered that they were clean.
The barren area seemed somehow familiar, and as she turned in a circle to take it all in, she realized it was strikingly similar to the royal grounds in New Atlantis. With that discovery, the empty landscape all around her began to fill in as if drawn by an artist’s pencil, and buildings and a ring road took shape in all directions. When it was complete, she stood in the center of a ruined version of the New Atlantis she knew with a broken palace, damaged or destroyed noble houses, and the faint scent of smoke in the air. The dome above was a spiderweb of cracks that would in no way be sufficient to keep the water out.
“Holy hell,” she said. “This isn’t New Atlantis. This is the old one.”
The startling voice from behind her was deep and masculine. “It was once alive and is now dead. Exactly like you are about to be.”
Cali spun and saw two opponents, a man and a woman. Each was at least thirty years older than her, and their faces seemed wise and intelligent. She would have judged them supportive rather than threatening if not for the large swords they held, which were duplicates of the one that suddenly appeared in her hand. With a flash of insight, she recognized them. She’d seen their portraits in the Leblanc mansion. They were the first leaders of the house, dead and buried for centuries. As they strode forward to kill her, her mind had time for only a single thought.
For dead old people, they seem fairly spry.
Chapter Two
Cali lurched to her left to position the woman in front of the man and caught the descending blade on its twin. She circled her weapon outward, deflected the other, and stabbed ahead. The first matriarch Leblanc backpedaled with a grim smile on her face to avoid the blow, and her partner darted in from the right.
She jumped back to dodge his thrust, covered her off-hand in force, and reached out for his blade, intending to trap it and attack him while he struggled to reclaim it from her. At the last instant, she remembered Nylotte’s words and yanked her hand away.
He nodded. “Good move, youngster. My sword doesn’t care about your magic.”
The patriarch strode forward deliberately and swung with measured strokes along all the vectors Ikehara had trained her to defend—almost as if he was testing her abilities the same way her sensei did.
Of course, we don’t use edged weapons in the dojo. She willed the bracelet on her left arm to turn into one of her magical Escrima sticks so she could both strike and cast with that hand and was only partially surprised when it didn’t respond. I hate it when other people make the rules.
Her foe made a particularly clever slash that forced her to dodge left and she threw herself into a roll as the woman slid into view and attempted to remove her head.
She rolled to her feet with a growl. “You two seem like you’ve done this before.”
The matriarch chuckled but the sound was grim rather than amused. “Indeed, against every new patriarch or matriarch who has tried to claim the sword.” She advanced cautiously on Cali’s left.
The man did the same on her right and clearly tried to get closer without spooking her and causing her to run. He added, “And some who weren’t the leader of the house, too, from time to time. Ambitious ones unwilling to wait or who were outside the direct line of succession.”
The girl threw a wall of force in the woman’s path but she walked right through it. Dammit. Either my magic doesn’t work or they’re immune. Whichever it is, I don’t like it. “What happened to them? The ones with more ambition than sense?”
He laughed as he leaned in and swung at her head. She blocked and spun away t
o evade the woman’s follow-up strike. Her foes worked together smoothly, which suggested they had indeed played this game many times. “It didn’t go well for them. Let’s leave it at that.”
She frowned. “So they weren’t able to use the sword after, is that it?”
The woman suddenly increased speed and chopped down at her. She raised her blade to intercept, and her foe used it as a fulcrum to drive the pommel of her weapon into Cali’s face. She staggered back with a cry of anger as her eyes filled with tears from the blow. Frantic swipes of her sword kept her opponents out of attack range as she recovered. “That was nasty.”
The first matriarch laughed. “You can’t fight fair, Caliste. That’s what your enemies expect. Sometimes, you have to get dirty when you’re battling against filth.”
Her vision cleared and she brandished her blade warily before her while she kept them both in focus. “How about you answer my other question?”
The man nodded. “They couldn’t use the sword, that is correct. But they also lost some of their magic, which was drawn inside to keep Defender empowered.”
