WarMage: Unexpected (The Never Ending War Book 1)

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by Martha Carr




  WarMage: Unexpected

  The Never Ending War™ Book One

  Martha Carr

  Michael Anderle

  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 Martha Carr & Michael Anderle

  Cover by Mihaela Voicu http://www.mihaelavoicu.com/

  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, February 2020

  ebook ISBN: 978-1-64202-762-4

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64202-763-1

  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

  Chapter 32

  Free Books

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Books by Michael Anderle

  The WarMage: Unexpected Team

  Thanks to our Beta Team

  Larry Omans, Nicole Emens, Kelly O’Donnell, Jim Caplan

  Thanks to our JIT Readers

  Dave Hicks

  Diane L. Smith

  Misty Roa

  James Caplan

  Peter Manis

  Debi Sateren

  Veronica Stephan-Miller

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Mary Morris

  John Ashmore

  Deb Mader

  Paul Westman

  Editor

  SkyHunter Editing Team

  Chapter One

  The screen door creaked and slammed shut behind Raven Alby as she jumped off the porch and ran toward the gate of the Alby Ranch. A silver dragon passed overhead with a rider from the Dragon Rangers returning from their patrol over the kingdom. They flew back toward the center of Brighton.

  “Right on time,” said the teenager. She waved her arms at the rider as she ran and ducked as he dipped the dragon in acknowledgment as they passed overhead. The long tail sailed out behind, pearly scales twinkling in the morning light. She hurried by a pen of dwarf goats being fed their breakfast while two ranch hands leaned against the fence.

  “Morning, Miss Alby.” Isaac Irving lifted his hat and gave the girl a nod.

  “Where you off to in such a hurry?” Deacon Smith knocked his boot against a fence post, raising a cloud of dust.

  “First day of school,” shouted Raven, running the last stretch toward the gate.

  “That’s right, Fowler Academy! That’s a big deal.”

  “Learn a spell for me that can herd a lot of tiny goats,” said Deacon.

  “You have a good dog for that.” Isaac put two fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. A black and white border collie dashed toward them from a distant pasture.

  Raven laughed but didn’t stay by the two men. “Have to get a move on,” she said, with a quick wave, shifting her satchel strap.

  She tightened her long red ponytail and took off. Up at the gate, her best friend Henry Derks waited for her. He was a tall, muscular teenager with dark curls and tanned skin from farming on his family’s land.

  Two more ranch hands sat in chairs against the gate. Their chins were on their chests, and they were fast asleep. The larger of the two snored, an empty brown bottle resting in his lap.

  Henry smiled as Raven approached. “Look at these guys. I hope you didn’t have any trespassers last night, because they would have made good doorstops for the gate.”

  Raven rolled her eyes. “Leave them alone, Henry. A lot of the hands around here drink when they stand guard. Nothing ever happens inside the city walls. They have to do something to pass the time.”

  The two of them started down the road together. “What did your grandpa say this morning? Did he give you some speech about being responsible and studying hard?”

  “Shockingly, no.” Raven adjusted her bag’s strap. “He was pretty quiet all morning. I’ve never known him to turn down an opportunity to give me advice about how to survive in this world. I think in the years I’ve been here, he’s given at least one good lecture a month. Did you know butterbur leaves can heal a burn and cure a headache? Or that I’m from a proud line of mages who’ve been of service for hundreds of years. Or that—”

  Henry laughed. “I get it. Your grandpa’s always been like that. He’s a walking historian, and he wants you to be the one who benefits from it. You’re lucky. My parents gave me a bunch of crap about ‘growing up, not their little Henry anymore.’” He shook his head and adjusted the leather strap over his shoulder, shoving his satchel behind his back. “I’m pumped. I can’t wait to start using some spells!” He wiggled his fingers. “All that magic just waiting to help me with chores.”

  “Henry, come on. This isn’t a big deal. We’ve used spells before.”

  Henry gave her a sidelong glance. “Maybe you have. I’ve learned a couple simple ones—some from you—but I want to know the whole range, you know? I’m going to bust my ass so I can hit the front lines.”

  The girl raised her eyebrows. “Front lines of what?”

  “Okay, so there’s no war now, but the stories say—”

  She rolled her eyes. “They’re just stories, Henry, old stories. Besides, you think you’re cut out for war?”

  “Why not?” Henry sounded offended, running his hand through his thick curls. “I don’t have to be a farmer my whole life.”

  “I don’t mean anything by it. I just know it’s tough to get picked for the squads that go to the kingdom’s reaches to train. You have to be really good.”

  “Your future is already laid out—you’ll be a mage, just like your mother and your grandmother for generations. Everyone knows what an Alby will become. Must be easy. You don’t have to wonder.”

  She shrugged, trying not to show her frustration. “Is it written somewhere? I’ve got big things on my mind too.”

  “Some things are tradition, Raven. Don’t know how you fight hundreds of years of it.”

  The two of them reached the center of town. The tall gray spires of Fowler Academy loomed in the distance.

  Raven pointed at the pennants fluttering atop the school’s turrets. “I’m going to figure it out, and you’re going to help me.”

  “Have we met? Hi, I’m
Henry Derks, third son of Harvey Derks and useful when you need something large moved from there to here,” he said, pointing. “My goals at school are, one, to learn how to make hay stack itself, which, by the way, my older brother already knows but won’t tell me, and two, never see the inside of the headmaster’s office. Hell, for Headmaster Flynn not to know my name would be perfect. A real achievement.”

  “Everyone always knows your name. Your mother tied you to a kitchen chair when you were seven so she could get a break.”

  “Simple misunderstanding.”

  “You stole that spell from my grandpa and turned one of the chickens into a rat. The others didn’t lay eggs for a month.”

  “Yeah, you change one word…” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter! Fresh start. If you want to find me, I’ll be squarely in the center of the pack.”

  Raven laughed and punched her tall friend on the arm. “Great plan. That’s exactly how to get chosen for the elite fighting squad.”

  Henry let out a loud tsk. “Yeah, well, I’m still working on the plan.”

  They passed a pair of merchants standing outside their shops. They were huddled together, too deep in their conversation to notice Raven or Henry.

  Outside his dry goods shop, Jacob Lane pointed toward the sturdy wall that surrounded the city. A large keyring jangled from his wrist, the brass keys clanging together. “Wilson told me they found another abandoned satellite ranch out by Farley on the far side of the Kingdom.”

  Raven slowed, ducking into the side street at the end of the shop.

  Standing nearby was Samuel Jones, the local butcher. He was wearing a bloody apron stretched out across his ample belly. He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Where the hell are all these guys going?”

  Henry turned to show her the new wand he’d carved. “What are you—”

  She hushed him, yanking on his arm and pulling him out of sight. He started to say something, but she held her finger up to her lips. She leaned around the edge of the building and watched the two merchants.

  “We’re going to be late, and on the first day. You’re killing my life plan here,” muttered Henry.

  “Your life plan was already full of holes. Be quiet, so I can hear them.” Raven cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered a spell. “Exaudi me.” The sound traveled back to her, swirling around her head and echoing in her ears.

  Henry arched an eyebrow and stared. “Least you could have done was let me hear too. If I’m going to get in trouble for being late, I’d like to think I got something for it.”

  “Fine, but be quiet.” She cupped her hands again and whispered, “Venite audite,” and the waves of sound expanded and swirled around the pair. Henry peered over Raven’s head from the edge of the building at the two merchants down the block.

  Jacob threw his hands in the air, his eyes widening. “He said he got a chance to check it out for himself. It was eerie.” The keys knocked together, making a sound like wind chimes. “A tinker passing through found them. He was on his annual rounds.”

  “Yeah, that’s about right. The fall harvest is coming in. Has he passed through town yet? I have a few pieces that need repair.”

  “You’re missing the point, Samuel. Everything was where it should be. It was like somebody had set up this whole ranch and then walked away from it. But get this, there were no signs of a cart pulling away. Wilson’s a good hunter; he’d know how to find somebody. Nothing.”

  The fat man adjusted the ties on his apron. “That’s ridiculous,” said Samuel. “Maybe they got called away or something. That could have happened last spring. Was there dust on anything? Nobody just walks away from their ranch.”

  “The tinker didn’t say. I’m telling you, they didn’t walk away. We all know exactly what caused it.” He poked Samuel in the chest.

  The butcher shook his head, turning to walk back into his shop, waving off the insinuation. “Don’t start with those Death Swarm stories again.”

  “Seriously?” Jacob leaned toward him in shock. “You still don’t believe it? How many more people need to disappear before you start taking it seriously? Something is making people disappear. What else could it be?”

  Samuel snorted. “It’s raiders, and the fighting squads will ferret them out.”

  “What’ll it take for you to believe those things are back?”

  “When these creatures show up on my doorstep and decide they want to buy a pack of steaks.” He laughed as he walked back inside, and Jacob sighed before returning to his shop.

  “You believe that stuff, Raven?” Henry stepped away from the building. “That Death Swarm thing? A lot of people swear by it.”

  Raven leaned against the gray wood siding and drew a deep breath. An adventure at last. Well, maybe. “It would make more sense than people just disappearing, I guess. I don’t know. Something’s happening. Hell if I know what it is.”

  They reached the grounds of the academy, and they both stopped for a moment. “You ready?” asked Henry.

  “I’ve been waiting for an adventure to finally start.”

  “School is your idea of an adventure? I don’t know about you, Alby.”

  “The start… Okay, okay. A girl can dream.”

  Henry nudged her as they walked up the long, manicured gravel driveway that led to the circular front courtyard of Fowler Academy. It was an old institution with a long history of training the brightest and best.

  The school was held within the old Fowler Castle, left empty for years after the great war, and eventually refurbished for the school. The few remaining Fowlers still lived on the property in cottages near the back edges.

  Both students turned and looked in every direction, taking it all in.

  They passed a group of upperclassmen playing with a small beanbag, tossing it around using their feet. “I used to play that when I was little,” said Henry.

  “Not like that, you didn’t. Look closer. It’s floating.”

  Henry glanced again, taking a few steps. He straightened, walking closer, and grinned. The bag was inches from the ground with only air in between.

  “Can I try that?”

  A student with jet black hair shorn close to his scalp shrugged. “Sure,” he said, tossing the bean bag in Henry’s direction while flicking his wrist. Raven felt the small pulse of magic he used.

  Henry caught the bag on his foot and tried to toss it, but nothing happened, and it fell to the ground. He flicked his wrist right and left, trying to put some wind beneath the small bag, but it just lay there.

  “Catch you next semester,” said the junior, extending his hand. “The name’s Daniel. You a townie?” he asked, indicating the satchel on Henry’s back.

  “Yeah, I still help out on the farm with my brothers.”

  “I get it. I would, too, if I didn’t travel from the other side of the kingdom to be here. I’m from Yardley.”

  “Sure, I know the place. It’s near the shore.”

  Raven furrowed her brow, watching Henry.

  “Professor Ridley will teach you the cantrip on the first sunny day when there’s not much else to do.” Daniel picked up the bag and flicked it, directing it with his foot. “You’re new?”

  Raven came and stood next to him, waiting for Henry to introduce her. He was too busy staring at the silver patch sewn to Daniel’s sleeve.

  “Yeah, first year. You’re on the fight squad, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, this is my first year for the squad. Tryouts are every spring. Are you interested?”

  “Can’t you tell by the drool?” muttered Raven.

  Both young men turned to look at her, Henry with a scowl. Daniel appeared amused and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Raven’s face warmed. “Did I say that out loud?” She extended her hand, blurting, “Hello, I’m Raven Alby.”

  “Yeah, I know you. Alby, huh? Aren’t you some kind of mage?”

  Raven dropped her hand and sighed. “Something like that. Come on, Henry, we need t
o get inside for the announcements.”

  “Nice to meet you, Raven Alby, mage,” yelled Daniel as the beanbag came back in his direction, and he swiveled neatly, sending it flying in another direction.

  Raven tilted her head and waved. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Great meeting you,” shouted Henry. “See you around the grounds. I’ll get that spell figured out.”

  He was walking backward, almost tripping over a small fourth-year mage who snapped at him. “Newbies!”

  He caught up to Raven, a broad grin on his face. “I love this place!”

  “We’ve been here five minutes, and you’re already a fanboy. Pace yourself. What do you know about Yardley?”

  “I know what’s on that map in your kitchen. That counts.”

  “Not really.”

  “You’re gonna have an easier time of it if you stop being insulted every time someone uses the word ‘mage.’ Not to mention you’re gonna make every mage hate you.”

  “I like being a mage. In fact, I love being a mage, just like my mother. It’s just that I want something more.”

  “Something else?”

  “Maybe, I don’t know. That’s why I’m here, to figure out that part. Can’t it be more?”

  “Not in this city. Not so far.” Henry stopped at the main building and stepped up the first two wide granite steps, holding his arms out wide. “My future greatness has begun!”

 

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