Outlaw: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Enforcer of the East Book 2)

by Annabel Chase

  “What is it?” I asked.

  The elderly Ghul wagged her bumpy finger. “Not yet. I will ask it at the end of our time together, but you must agree to it now.”

  Callan and I exchanged glances. We came all this way for information. We had to take the risk.

  “Deal,” I said.

  Callan shot me a disapproving look. “Cerys…”

  “It’s my decision, Callan. Let her speak.” It was my life at stake. If I was willing to bargain with a conniving mystical Ghul, then so be it.

  Yessica seemed pleased with the outcome. “I know jihoon very well. Not as difficult to make as some believe. Extremely potent. Are you hoping to acquire some?”

  She actually made jihoon? “No,” I replied. “We’re investigating the death of a Shaitan. Jihoon was used as part of a spell and we’re hoping to learn more about it.” If Ghuls were responsible for Lumin’s predicament, could it have come from this very cave?

  Her gaze darted around the cave. “The three of you have come alone?”

  “How many would you normally expect when customers come knocking for jihoon?” Callan asked casually.

  Yessica hissed at him. The response was so odd and surprising that I almost laughed. Given we were in the middle of nowhere in a strange land, I opted to remain quiet.

  “How does jihoon work?” I asked. “If its purpose is to cause death, isn’t it dangerous to work with?”

  Yessica rubbed her tongue over her crooked teeth. “There is one final ingredient I do not provide. There is no danger to anyone without it.”

  “What’s that?” Callan asked. “Eye of newt?”

  I jabbed him with my elbow. “Is that a witch joke? Because Yessica’s not a witch.”

  “Blood,” Yessica said in a voice so loud that I jumped.

  “Any blood?” Callan asked. “Are we talking about a sacrifice? A goat?”

  Yessica dragged a long, twisted fingernail down Callan’s cheek. “Blood seals in the magic and acts as the catalyst. The same blood is the key that locks and unlocks.”

  “So whoever performed the attachment spell on Lumin likely mixed his own blood with jihoon,” I said.

  “That’s the most likely scenario,” Callan agreed. “You get a lot of Ghuls wanting jihoon?”

  “Only to sell to other djinn,” Yessica said. “It is not our way to use such skilled magic. Ghuls are more…straightforward.”

  “Would a roaming band of Ghuls work with or take orders from a djinni from another caste?” I asked.

  Yessica’s throaty laugh morphed into a sputtering cough. “I do not think you grasp the nature of Ghuls very well.”

  “Can you tell us the last time you sold jihoon?” I asked. “Who bought it?”

  “Janns,” she replied. She picked her teeth with one of the long fingernails and spit something into the fire. “Traveling merchants.”

  The traveling aspect meant they could have come across any of the missing Shaitans, but Janns hadn’t been mentioned by anyone we’d met so far.

  “How long ago?” I asked.

  “Six months. They had a troublesome competitor they were hoping to get rid of.”

  “And they needed jihoon?” Callan asked, flabbergasted. “Seems over the top.”

  “They were planning to bind his wife to an object and threaten the merchant,” Yessica explained. “To be convincing, they needed to use jihoon.”

  “So if the merchant tried to free his wife, she would have died?” I asked.

  “Usually, in such cases, they tell the target about the extra layer of magic,” Yessica said. “They do not intend to trigger the spell, they only intend to force the target to comply with their demands.”

  “How do they break the attachment without triggering the death spell?” I asked. Although it didn’t matter now that Lumin was dead, it was knowledge I didn’t have before. Knowledge that could have prevented me from killing him.

  “Same key that is used to lock it,” she replied.

  Blood.

  “Have you any more questions?” the elderly Ghul asked.

  I glanced at Callan and he shook his head. Riffat had been silent during the entire conversation and seemed to have nothing to add now.

  “What’s your favor?” I asked. All sorts of hideous possibilities ran through my mind.

  “My grandson,” she began. “I have not set eyes upon him in years.”

  “He’s missing?” I asked.

  “Not as such, but I worry. I see movement between the colonies,” Yessica said. “I do not wish him to get caught in the crossfire.”

  “Why would he? Does he live near the border?” I asked.

  Yessica turned her attention to the crackling fire. “I have lost track of my dear Martyn. I have sought a vision—any sign to tell me that he is alive and well—but the gods ignore my requests.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “How old is he?”

  “Prime of his youth,” Yessica replied. “I helped his mother raise him from a babe until his fourteenth year.”

  Fourteen seemed so young to be making his own way in the world. “Did he leave to find work?”

  She shook her head. “He left the day of his mother’s funeral. He was never happy here. Never settled.”

  “What about his father?” Callan asked.

  Yessica glared at him before spitting on the floor beside her. “His father was no better than the dirt under my feet. That lying son of a jackal. He died when Martyn was still a boy. I warned my daughter against him, but it was too late. He’d seduced her with his worldly charm. She was only a serving wench. She had little knowledge of Shaitans and their illusions.” The elderly Ghul shifted her glare to Riffat. “He was a spy sent here by the king. My daughter initially believed him to be a Ghul or she never would have…” Yessica shook her head.

  “So Martyn is a half breed,” I said. I knew what that must have meant for Martyn, given what we’d learned during our time in the realm. A hard life. No wonder he took off at a young age.

  “His life here was unpleasant,” Yessica said. “It became difficult for my daughter, too. No other Ghul would have her, of course. Knowing that she had been with a djinni from another caste. Our family became tainted.”

  “Did Martyn ever mention a place he thought he might fit in?” Callan asked. “I bet he knew he wasn’t fully accepted here.”

  “Nor would he be accepted in our colony,” Riffat said. “I assume he knew of his heritage.”

  “He knew,” the elderly Ghul said. “It would have been difficult to hide. He shared too many of his father’s real features. There are times I wonder if he left the realm entirely.”

  “Because he thought he’d fit in somewhere less insular?” I queried.

  “Perhaps,” Yessica said. “He was raised on tales of other realms, you understand, where our family dwelled before the Second War. He was aware of places where species mixed with each other without prejudice.”

  “Yours was one of the families that returned here after the war?” I asked. Finally, my academic knowledge was coming into play.

  “Not me, of course,” Yessica said. “It was before my time, but I heard enough talk in my youth to pass the details on to Martyn. He was fascinated by it all. Fascinated by his father’s travels, too, though I believe he harbored resentment toward him.”

  “Do you know what happened to his father?” Callan asked.

  “Rumor has it that a band of Ghuls happened upon him in his Shaitan state,” Yessica said. “They attacked and he was killed. Served him right for abusing our form.”

  I thought of Kystra and wondered whether she’d fallen in love with any Ghuls during her time here. Somehow, I doubted it.

  “I’ll be happy to check League records when I return to Terrene,” Callan said. “See if I can track him there.”

  “And I can talk to my contacts at the AMF in my realm,” I said.

  “If I pick up his trail in this realm, I will send word,” Riffat said.

  Yessica ga
ve her a curious look. “I did not broker a deal with you, Shaitan.”

  “I am aware of that,” Riffat said, “but the young djinni is half Shaitan. We take care of our own.”

  Yessica seemed at a loss for words. “May peace be upon you,” she finally said.

  “And you,” Riffat said. “On behalf of King G’lur, we thank you for the information you shared.” Although Yessica’s eyes flashed with hatred at the mention of the Shaitan king, she said nothing.

  By the time we left the cave, the wind was howling mercilessly. I clapped my hands against my ears until there was a moment of calm.

  “Would you really consider Martyn one of your own?” I asked, as I mounted the stallion. Callan climbed on behind me and I was grateful the stallion didn’t object. I needed the warmth of the werewolf’s body right now. The air temperature had dropped considerably since yesterday.

  “I only hoped to offer her comfort,” Riffat answered. “I suspect the reason she cannot locate him in her visions is not because he fled the realm.”

  “Then what?” I asked. “He’s hiding here in the colony?”

  Riffat mounted her stallion and stared at the path ahead. “No, because he is dead.”

  I was quiet for a thoughtful moment. I hated to admit it, but she was probably right. Callan seemed to sense my distress. He wrapped both arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck. “I’m glad the horse decided to accept me. I like being up here with you.”

  I craned my neck to see him. “I like it, too.”

  “You ever have doubts about being with a werewolf?” he asked.

  The question caught me off-guard. “No. You?”

  “I’m not with a werewolf, lemon drop,” he said. “I’m with you.”

  I elbowed him gently in the ribs. “Not a time for jokes, Callan.”

  “I just wanted to hear you laugh,” he said. “It’s a tough world sometimes.”

  I encouraged the stallion forward. “It sure is.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The journey back to the colony was long but blissfully uneventful. I relished the close proximity to Callan. There were a few times I nearly broached the subject of the effects of the blood bond, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words out loud. What if he admitted the possibility? I didn’t think I could bear it, not with so much turmoil around us.

  As we approached the Shaitan border, I noticed activity in the distance. Riffat was on high alert, her back straight and her expression tense. I was glad that Callan was in his human form. There were far too many horses ahead. He would’ve caused a stampede.

  “Any idea what’s going on?” I asked Riffat. I glimpsed flashes of green and gold and the Shaitan standard with its two crossed serpents.

  “They are the king’s warriors,” she replied. “No doubt in response to the news about Prince Wuhaib. Slow your mount. I will ride ahead and meet them.”

  I didn’t argue. I watched as her stallion surged forward and three riders started toward us from the Shaitan colony.

  “This can’t be good,” I said.

  “Not an ideal place for us to be right now,” Callan agreed. “Hopefully, they’ll let us through without any trouble.”

  We passed between the carved boulders with their horrific faces and I was relieved to put them behind me. My stallion had slowed to a trot and I was debating whether to stop all together when I saw Riffat headed back in our direction. No one followed her. I wasn’t sure how to interpret it.

  “The king has increased our presence along the Ghul borders,” she said. “There have been reports of random acts of violence and unrest, and word of raiding Ghuls has spread.”

  “You don’t think this might be an overreaction?” Callan asked. “Try a little diplomacy first?”

  “The king wants his subjects to feel secure,” Riffat said. “Insecurity breeds discontentment.”

  “Which breeds revolution,” I finished for her. “We need to report back to the king before things escalate any further.” Based on the information we learned, I wasn’t convinced the Ghuls were responsible for any of the disappearances, including that of the prince. The king would be focused on fighting Ghuls instead of identifying the real culprits.

  “If the king thinks Ghuls are responsible for kidnapping his son, he’ll be out for blood until the prince is returned safely,” Callan said.

  “King G’lur is not a bloodthirsty ruler,” Riffat said crisply.

  “No, but he’s a grieving ruler,” Callan shot back. “Sometimes the result is the same.”

  “We will leave the mule here to be of use,” Riffat said, inclining her head toward the rope. “It will allow us to make haste.”

  Callan untethered the mule and we watched him wander over to the nearest cluster of horses. We passed the Shaitans in silence and a few offered Riffat a respectful nod. Once past the throng of warriors, we rode swiftly toward the castle with only a single break along the way. My back was sore and my legs ached, but I barely noticed. I was eager to report our findings. Although I wouldn’t be able to provide direct evidence of my innocence, it seemed important to share all that we’d learned about jihoon and Ghuls.

  As we reached the gateway to the castle, I noticed the banner on the turret was flying at half-mast. No one had mentioned any deaths. Only increased activity.

  Riffat announced our return and we only waited half an hour before being summoned by King G’lur. The king seemed out of sorts from the moment we entered the room. His hair was slightly disheveled and his tunic was wrinkled, as though he’d left his bed in a hurry. Zane Amon was there, lurking in the shadows as usual. He tapped his staff on the floor in a repetitive motion.

  “Thank you, Riffat,” the king said. “I knew I could count on you to escort our guests safely.”

  “We have much to report, Your Majesty,” Riffat replied.

  King G’lur rose to his feet. “Take a turn with me in the garden,” he said.

  “My husband has been encouraged to continue his daily strolls,” the queen explained.

  “I do my best thinking when I am in motion,” the king said. “Too sedentary and my brain turns to porridge.”

  “The sunshine and fresh air is also meant to combat ill feelings,” the queen said. “The king has had too much on his mind as of late.” Her shoulders seemed weighed down by overwhelming sadness. “We both have.”

  We walked through the grand foyer with its diamond-encrusted chandeliers. “The front garden is delightful this time of year,” the king said. “The scent of my blossoms would please any living creature. My son would spend hours out here, cataloging the different species. He loves herbology.”

  I fell in step with the king and Callan joined the queen behind me. Riffat and Zane lingered in the background.

  “I should have employed more of them,” the king said absently. “I have been too lax, too comfortable with the peace and prosperity.”

  “Employed more what?” I asked.

  “Spies,” Callan said. “He means they should have employed more spies in the Ghul colony.”

  “Even during a time of peace, knowledge is power,” the king admitted. “I should not have to rely on rumors to act. I should have access to facts.” He punched his fist into his open palm.

  We arrived at the first row of flowers. The garden was meticulously kept with rows of topiaries and colorful flowers. He paused to inhale the sweet aroma. I had to agree—the smell was delightful.

  “We learned a few facts during our travels that might interest you,” I said.

  “Excellent.” The king stooped to pluck a flower from the garden and gave it to his wife. She smiled graciously and tucked it behind her ear.

  “The black gunk that came out of Lumin’s body is called jihoon,” I explained. “It’s basically the physical manifestation of dark magic that gets triggered when another spell is broken. It acts as a failsafe, so that peeling back one layer of magic impacts the one underneath.”

  “Riffat, is this true?” the king asked.
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  Riffat stood at attention. “Yes, Your Majesty. I was present for the explanation.”

  “But you learned nothing more about Lumin’s fate?” the king prompted.

  “No, Your Majesty,” Riffat replied. “Only gossip.”

  “So, in your effort to release Lumin from the opal, you triggered the…” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name of the substance.

  “Jihoon,” I said.

  “Yes, you triggered jihoon, which is what killed him.” The king twiddled his thumbs. “Lumin was bound to the opal, then spelled into silence, and then spelled again to prevent his freedom.” His brow furrowed. “There would be no way to know that jihoon was used, would there?” His question was directed to Riffat.

  “It does not appear to be the case,” Riffat replied.

  Zane offered me a sympathetic look. “In a sense, she is but another victim of the Ghuls’ depravity.”

  “The entire colony has been victimized now that they have involved the prince,” the king said.

  Here was my chance. “King G’lur, I don’t know what happened with the prince, but I just want to say that I don’t think Ghuls are responsible for doing this to Lumin. Those we spoke to didn’t think this type of magic fit with Ghul behavior. If it had been raiders, they would’ve simply robbed him and killed him.” The same with Prince Wuhaib, I wanted to add, but I held my tongue. I didn’t want to imply that his son was dead.

  “Regardless, we can no longer ignore the accounts,” King G’lur said. “Only a weak king would take no action when his only son has been taken.”

  “The Ghuls have been wanting to reclaim certain parts of this colony ever since it was taken from them centuries ago,” Zane said. “I have no doubt they intend to use Prince Wuhaib to achieve this.”

  “Have they sent a message explaining their intentions?” I asked. “You’ve had at least three missing Shaitans and no demands. There’s no evidence to support your theory.”

  “You would not understand,” Zane said. “You are not from this realm.”

  “It doesn’t matter which realm we’re in,” I argued. “A smart king takes action when he has sufficient evidence. There are too many lives at stake to rely on theories.”