The Cage King
An Entwined Realms Novella
Entwined Realms 1.5
Danielle Monsch
Romantic Geek Publishing
THE CAGE KING (AN ENTWINED REALMS NOVELLA) (ENTWINED REALMS 1.5)
Romantic Geek Publishing
Copyright © 2014 Danielle Monsch
E-book ISBN 978-1-938593-15-4
EPUB Edition
Publication Date: August 2014
Editor: Rhonda Helms
Copy Editor: Eilis Flynn
Cover Design: Kix by Design
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.
Dedication
To John J., for creating an absolutely awesome name and allowing me to use it. I promise I’ll do my best to do right by it.
And, as always, Mr. Jim Garner
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Books by Danielle Monsch
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Note from Danielle Monsch
About the Author
Books by Danielle Monsch
Entwined Realms
Modern-Day Fantasy, where Sword & Sorcery and Romance Meet
There are no Dragons…are there?
Stone Guardian – From the Shadows He Watches Over Her
Stone Embrace – In the New Realms, Love can be the Most Dangerous Battle of All…
The Cage King – He Will Claim Victory
Fairy Tales & Ever Afters
Slightly Twisted and Very Sassy takes on Fairy Tales
Loving a Fairy Godmother – Don’t Fairy Godmothers deserve a little lovin’ too?
Loving an Ugly Beast – Can’t an Ugly Beast get a little lovin’ here?
Loving a Prince Charming – When you are Prince Charming, everyone wants a little lovin’ from you.
Pleasure Chronicles
Sexy Sci-Fi about Warrior Women and the Alpha Males who love them
Pleasure Satellite – To the Strongest goes Everything…
And want to know whenever a New Book is Released? Sign-up!
DANIELLE MONSCH ANNOUNCEMENT LIST!
Chapter One
‡
It was in the alleys she had discovered his fear of the dark. As they huddled together, rats unseen but heard scurrying in corners, so dark not even a sliver of moonlight penetrated, he shook. Her big brother shook, tremors he tried to hide by holding her tighter, and all the while he swore, he swore, he was going to get them to a place light and open, where you could take a breath without the stench of garbage and shit.
And where had he ended up? A coffin – small, confined, deep in the deepest dark of the earth, crammed in with so many others, the gravestones not a hands width from each other.
The bump of magic across her skin brought Nalah back to the now, where she was not in a graveyard on the day of her brother’s funeral but wandering familiar and loathed streets. This ability to know magic was the one constant in her life, a life that saw her and her brother moving from shelter to shelter. It was a crawl of heated sensation with a dancing, jagged edge – deep warmth with sharp little teeth.
Ahead of her, the pawn shop. A week ago Nalah came here with the only thing of value they owned, the ring her mother could never let go of, had worked three jobs and yet refused to sell. It had been her mother’s mother’s mother’s, and maybe further back than that. Mama had died too young to tell all the stories, but the one she’d never failed to tell – as she’d wrapped her daughter’s and her son’s little hands around the golden band with bright red stones and pressed so hard the ring left an impression on skin – was of how special that ring was, how they must never lose it.
To protect her brother she was going to sell it, went into the shop willing to face her brother’s wrath and her mother’s heartbreak.
The pawnbroker offered fifty dollars. With greed bright in his eyes and drool a speck in the corner of his mouth, the pawnbroker looked at her worn clothes and shaking hands and would not offer a dollar more.
And when she refused…he took it anyway. He took it and threw the fifty at her as she lay dazed on the ground and dared her to reclaim it.
She was going to tell Jac, after. After the fight. After one last time to convince him of something of which he would not be convinced.
But there was no after.
There was only a coffin in the ground.
Her ring was there in the shop. Her mother never told her the ring was magic, but as she grew older, when she realized the strange sensations she always experienced was an ability to sense – feel – magic, the knowledge her ring was more than a mere decoration occupied many hours of play, where she imagined all the different possibilities of what her ring could do.
Magic protected this building. Nothing as easy as a rock through the window could help her. Magic separated her from the only item that had any worth to her now. An item that had been stolen, taken from her because she was too weak. She was going to have her brother get it back.
But now her brother was dead.
There was only being alone in the dark.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as her temperature rose, the tips of her ears starting to burn. Hatred, pain, darkness and the grave and all alone in this world, and she fucking pushed against the magic, the ugliness inside her free and battering against this piece of fucking shit spell.
Crack!
It wasn’t audible, but the break sounded against where she had been pushing…whatever…outside of herself.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
A faint glow surrounded the building, the magic visible, dancing white and airy with cracks throughout. It was unraveling like a thread pulled from a knitted sweater, starting small but soon missing large chunks, until not a hint of magic remained.
“Holy crap, that was awesome!”
Nalah spun around before her mind processed the possibility of threat. Short bursts of information. Two women. One tiny, Asian, colorful. The other tall, redhead, all in black.
Then her breath punched out of her, and her body gasped to bring air back into itself.
Dear gods, the magic.
It was from the redhead’s sword, of which only the hilt was visible behind her right shoulder. There was nothing soft or tiny about this sensation. It was inferno, clawed death and black wings, oppressive yet…compelling.
Come closer…
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The Asian woman spoke, the same voice as the original statement. She stepped forward, as if to shield the sword behind her, but since she didn’t reach the redhead’s shoulder, it was wasted effort. “Keep your power to yourself. You’re too weak to be messing with Tenro. Then again, I’m pretty sure a huge chunk of the gods are too weak to be messing with Tenro.” The redhead smirked at that, but said nothing.
“Tenro’s the sword, and power – you don’t know your powers, do you?” The Asian woman’s eyes brightened and she turned to the redhead. “I got a great professorial outfit I could change into – or, wait, maybe I just have the schoolgirl outfit, but I know I have glasses-”
“Laire, focus.” The redhead’s manner was resigned, as if this type of conversation was normal. “Please explain before she rightly assumes your crazy level. What’s your name?”
That last question was directed at Nalah, and even as emotional exhaustion threatened to topple her, instinct and long habit made sure her mouth remained closed.
Laire waited a beat before she went on. “Okay nameless girl, you are a Magic Breaker.”
“Magic Breaker?” Nalah never heard of such a thing, though around here magic was of the low-level, thug life variety. Anyone powerful moved up and out in quick time. “I can’t cast any spells.”
“I didn’t say you were a caster, I said you were a breaker. Much rarer and a whole separate classification. That little demonstration?” Laire twirled her forefinger as she pointed at the building. “Tells me you are untrained but have a hell of a gift.”
Gift? Being a wizard was a gift. If she could cast spells, she could’ve saved her brother. This was useless, even if it did have a name. “I thought only wizards and mages could undo magic.”
“That’s usually the case, which makes finding someone like you all the more fantastic.”
The redhead spoke for the first time. “Why did you break that barrier?” she asked, lifting her chin to indicate the pawn shop, and the question of why these women were here – two women who belonged far, far away from this cesspool – formed deep in a sorrow-fogged brain.
Nalah could run, but what would be the point? The Asian woman’s magic was subtler than the blast that emanated from the sword, but the more she remained in the woman’s presence, the more the woman’s pure power became clear. Both of them were strong, and she…she was tired. And if this conversation ended badly, well, that could be okay too. “He stole my ring, and I wanted it back. I didn’t know I could do that. I got angry and it happened.”
“Oh, okay.” The redhead began to walk towards her…and then past her, to the front door of the building. Muscles relaxed that she had no clue were tensed as the redhead passed by her. Pulling on the door handle, the redhead called over her shoulder. “Relied on magical reinforcements. If I knock too hard it’ll fall in.”
Laire pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “Swing the damned sword, Fallon. We both know you’ve been wanting to all day, and he’s a creep who deserves to lose everything.”
“True,” returned Fallon, pulling the sword free before Laire had finished talking, and with the sword unsheathed the magic was clearer, barreling straight for her…
Smell of War, acrid and disgusting sweetness
Screams of the Fallen
Blood, Red, Permeating Everything
Pain, pain, so much pain, ache to the bones never to depart
DragonFire
…and Laire covered Nalah’s eyes with small, delicate fingers, the skin the softest Nalah had ever known. There was enchantment there, a shielding, and Laire said, “You really are sensitive, aren’t you? We’ll train you to develop your own barriers. After all, too much exposure to strong magic has been known to drive people insane, and we don’t want that.”
An explosion, but no ringing in her ears, no debris, no shaking of the ground underneath her. Laire removed her hand, letting Nalah see the sight before her. Tenro had been returned to its place on Fallon’s back, and the pawn shop was nothing more than a collection of rubble and twisted metal collapsing on itself. Fallon turned her head. “Your turn.”
Laire gave a negligent flip of her hand, and from the rubble a huge safe emerged. “Magical,” she said when it landed before them. “Withstands blasts and fire, the usual. I’ll handle opening this one myself.”
A moment later the door on the safe disappeared. Laire rummaged through, throwing aside money and valuables without pause. “There it is,” she said, and picked up a plain grey ring box and opened it.
Red gleamed and Nalah’s heart started, a pinprick of joy threading through the day’s loss. “That’s my ring. That’s the one he stole.”
Laire and Fallon gave a quick glance toward each other.
This is what they came for. No, no she wouldn’t lose this, she wouldn’t lose this, and Nalah snatched at the ring.
The effort failed as Fallon’s hand clamped around her wrist, and several pulls proved Fallon was immovable as stone. The redhead waited until Nalah was still, and asked again, “What’s your name?”
Fallon’s eyes were a molten gold. Unbidden Esh’s eyes surfaced in her memory, a similar color, except his always had a dancing flame within them. Nalah had scoured every book in the meager library, but she could never find that eye color as a characteristic of any known race.
He laughed, told her not to worry about it, he looked human and besides, he would never claim any race that abandoned him anyway. But she wanted to know, just for herself, because she loved his eyes, how they heated and the fire grew when his emotions did, before a fight or when he lowered his head to hers…
She slammed down that memory, buried it. Never again. “My name is Nalah, and that ring is mine.”
“Nalah.” Fallon repeated her name, as if the swordswoman could decode the bleak history and uncertain future within the sound. “And how old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
Fallon glanced over to Laire, whose face scrunched up in thought for a moment. “A little old, but she’s so freaking strong. I don’t think it’ll be much of a problem.”
Nalah pulled at her wrist again, more as voiceless protest than with any real hope of getting away. “What are you talking about?”
The two women did some voiceless communication with their eyes, and then Fallon turned her attention back to Nalah. “Would you like to escape this place?”
“Escape?” This conversation couldn’t get any weirder. Everything tonight was off-balance, a funhouse full of mirrors with no exit sign.
“Come with us. Join our group. We’ll teach you to use your power, and in return, you’ll help us save and protect this Realm.”
What group? The offer was too glib, too good-to-be-true. No one got offered a ticket out of here without a hell of a cost. “That easy?”
Fallon gave a chuckle, her smile bright but her eyes hard. “Do either of us evoke easy?”
No. Fallon didn’t bother to pretend to be anything other than a warrior, and while Laire tried to hide her own power and strength under an outfit reminiscent of cotton candy and a girlish voice, more than a moment in their presence gave lie to easy in any sense.
What group were they part of?
Did it matter?
“And my mother’s ring?”
Laire had deposited the ring in her pocket and made no move to take it out. “That’s a bit of a problem. That ring should never be allowed in the general population, kind of like Fallon when she’s in a mood. Or really ever.”
“What Laire means is you’ve felt the magic. You know something altering can be found in that ring, a power that shouldn’t be used.”
Bitter bile rose in her throat. Of course. What the hell else had she expected? Since when did justice figure into anything? “What is it the ring does that’s so bad I can’t have it back?”
“Can’t tell you, sorry.” Fallon shrugged her shoulders and gave the most insincere apologetic smile Nalah had ever seen. Sorry? What sorry?
Fucking bitches. They were strong and she was weak, and it didn’t matter if you lived in this shithole or not, the strong kicked you to the side and maybe fed you scraps if you were useful. Fuck them. She’d join her brother before she’d take their offer. Nalah spoke, the same anger churning through her that caused the breaking of the magic. “For all your talk
about your superiority over that douche, you’re as much a thief as he was,” she said, pointing at the rubble. “We both know I can’t fight you, so go back to your group and shove your offer up your ass. I’ll never be that desperate.”
Shocked silence reigned for a moment, before Laire doubled over in a peal of laughter. “Ah hells, we’ve just been schooled. Thank gods Aislynn didn’t see that.”
“Yeah, we’d never hear the end of it,” Fallon said, voice low and without any of the humor Laire saw in the situation. She released Nalah’s wrist. “Fine. Let’s modify the offer. You come with us, and after we teach you, after you understand what that ring is, if you still want to take it, it’s yours. You take it.”
“You won’t let it go.”
“Just said I would.”
Nalah stepped around this mental minefield with careful movements, feeling for the trap that had to exist. “That easy?”
This time there was no chuckle, and Fallon’s eyes were hard enough to pulverize stone. “Taking the ring would be easy. Living with the consequences, not so much.”
Nalah bit back a retort, the anger flooding her veins giving her a kick, but the undertone of weary and numb remained.
Why not? The question kept circling her mind, despite the ping in the back of her mind that said making any decisions now would be a bad idea – and said in the voice she often used to try to stop her brother from making an insane decision. Now, she used it on herself.
Because she was alone.
Well, there was Es–
NO! Not him. Never again him.
She was alone, and why not? Get out of here, train in her power, maybe be useful in some way. Why not?
“Why not?” Nalah said.
Laire came over and patted her hand. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Chapter Two
‡
“Please, Nalah, please! They’ll kill me. Gods honest truth, they will rip me apart. Nalah…please, you gotta convince him!”
The Cage King Page 1
