The Cardkeeper Chronicles: Books 1-5 (Complete Collection)

by A. C. Nicholls

  “What happened to the fight that you promised me?” Krav bellowed a false laugh, but it got to me, flowing through my ears to wriggle underneath my skin where it took root just the same as a real one would have.

  “It’s coming,” I sneered. “Just give me a second.”

  Trembling with both fear and fatigue, I took a deep breath and teleported up to the clouds. The paper-thin air made it tough to breathe, but it didn’t affect me as much as it would a mortal. I began to plummet toward the ground, picking up speed as I tore through the sky. I gained momentum so rapidly that I saw the road emerging at a shocking speed. When I thought I was going fast enough, mere feet away from the concrete, I made my last teleportation of the day.

  I appeared back on the roof, my knee raised as I drove it into Krav’s back. All of the speed from the fall had been stored up within me and I heard the solid crack of his back as I let it out in one bold attack.

  We both went sprawling out across the lot. I had been prepared, so I managed to roll into an upright position. Krav, on the other hand, finally got a taste of how it felt to be launched into the solid metal of a car. As his back struck the front panel, his body contorted and his head hit the ground. After that, blissful silence.

  I took a moment to collect myself, heaving in deep breaths and enjoying the cool air on my face. When I felt ready, I stalked toward his limp body and looked down at the bruised mess that used to be Krav’s face. He would be okay – he was immortal too – but he wouldn’t be using magic again anytime soon.

  As I glanced down at his hand, I saw his magicard tucked beneath his fingers. I wondered just how good it would feel to use it. If I could only have it for a little while, I’d wield the power that Krav had used against me…

  No.

  These things weren’t toys. That was the kind of mentality that turned a good mage bad. Perhaps that was why I’d been chosen as Chicago’s Cardkeeper instead of Krav. Instead of any mage, for that matter.

  Still, my job was my job. I peeled the card from his hand and stowed it away. I then pulled an empty magicard from my pocket and held it above him. I knew this part would make me feel bad – it always did – but at least I could look forward to going home afterward.

  I watched the card suck Krav’s soul from his body. Whispers sounded around me and my hair began to prickle, as if static energy lifted it. Glowing lights appeared around the body, turning it transparent and raising it. Krav’s eyes shot open and he gasped in pain, his soul being compressed and transported.

  Then, the magicard began to glow. It shook as the mage’s soul fused with it. I began to feel weak, lifeless. Like every ounce of strength in my badly beaten body was leaving me. It was a surreal sensation – something otherworldly.

  Finally, the card dropped to the ground. The lights dissipated and my hair returned to normal. Krav’s body was gone, but the image of him – flowing black duster and all – suddenly appeared on the face of the magicard.

  “About time,” I said to myself as I stooped to pick it up.

  I’d never known exhaustion like it. Well, save for the other fifty or so times I’d done this. But why was it that each time seemed to take a larger toll? Why did every mage I stopped seem to feel more powerful than the last? I was getting old, I supposed. Even though my body hadn’t aged a day in almost thirty years, my mind certainly had.

  On the bright side, I’d accomplished my mission. Krav had been put to rest and, outside of me, nobody had gotten hurt in the process. All I had to do now was find Link, and return the cards to the Vault.

  I should have known right then that it wouldn’t be that easy.

  CHAPTER TWO

  With long, dark hair and nondescript facial features, I’m not a traditionally pretty woman. At least that’s what everyone says. Perhaps that’s why I was laced with irritation when I walked into Jasper’s VHS store; I didn’t appreciate being gawked at like I was half-naked and ready for cheap thrills.

  “My eyes are up here,” I barked at Jasper Jones.

  A short, overly hairy man of a similar age to me, his sunken eyes suggested psychosis, but deep down, his heart was in the right place. At least once you curbed his hormone-led perversities.

  “Sorry.”

  I walked further into the store, trying not to breathe too deeply. The place smelled of something old and familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Whatever it was, it did its job – the combination of a dying technology and the foul odors kept the VHS store empty. Not that it mattered. The store was nothing but a front.

  “Did you get Krav?” Jasper asked, staying in his chair.

  I was vaguely aware of Link climbing up my leg, and then sitting on my shoulder in silence. “After something of a battle, yes. I’m surprised at the strength of his powers, to be honest. I was expecting an easy day, but what I got was… this…” I pointed at the scrapes and bruises on my face.

  Jasper smiled, slanted yellow teeth peeking out for one shy appearance before disappearing again behind his bearded mouth. Dust motes danced between us as he studied my battle scars. “All right. Get a cloak on and I’ll send you through.”

  “Thanks.”

  I weaved my way through to the back of the store, behind the suspicious-looking red curtain that led to the adult section in most places like this. But here, the velvet barricade hid nothing but an empty room, save for the clothes rack hosting dark, silky robes. As per the rules when visiting the Vault, I slid one over my clothes and nodded at Jasper.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  Jasper waved his hands, throwing every ounce of energy into constructing a portal. A ring of fire blazed before me, and a flashing blend of colors twisted within it. As a cold wind crept through and caressed my face, the image of a mountain revealed itself inside the portal.

  “Take your time,” Jasper groaned, sarcasm tainting his voice. His arms were stretched out as he held the portal in place. Opening gates to others realms was one of his finer skills. Having not quite made it as a Cardkeeper, he’d been aptly appointed as the Guardian of the Portal.

  Plucking Link from my shoulder and holding him safely in my cupped hands, I stepped through the portal and winced as the harsh, wintery winds blasted through me. The gateway to Chicago closed behind me, and I stopped to take a quick look around.

  Mountain upon mountain surrounded us. Dark skies lingered above us, cracking thunder and threatening rain. I believed the location was somewhere in the Andes, but it was invisible to mortal men. The rocky land, as well as the dark, ominous tower that loomed in front of us, lay in a place between worlds, where only mages, Cardkeepers and Guardians could visit.

  “Come on, Keira,” Link groaned within my numb hands. Dark bags hung under his eyes as he frowned. “I’m freezing my balls off, here.”

  Underneath his usual snark, my tiny friend had a point. Careful not to tread on my robe, I ran toward the tower, the magicards tucked safely in my pocket. It would be a shame to lose them now, after everything I’d done to retrieve them.

  The heavy wooden door creaked as I pushed it open. As soon as I stepped inside, a torrential downpour unleashed below me. I took a moment, grateful that I’d avoided an icy drenching, then closed the door and hurried deeper into the dungeon-like tower.

  This tower – known as the Vault – kept magicards safe from the hands of mortal men. Only, mortals weren’t the real problem. Mages were the biggest aggressors, and worse yet, their blood allowed them to slip through portals, granting them access to the Vault. That was where I came in – protector, guardian, and keeper of the cards.

  Although it only looked small from outside, the interior of the Vault went far deeper. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that it was some kind of optical illusion. This was, after all, one of the standing pillars to the Sacred Temple of R’hen – a place where even Cardkeepers are forbidden. A place where magic is said to have begun, several thousand years ago.

  Weaving between the dark, cobblesto
ne walls, I followed the candlelight through to the card room. Tired and weary, all I wanted to do was head home and shower. But first I had to deposit the cards somewhere safe.

  I walked to the back of the empty room, my footsteps echoing through the emptiness. Reaching out to touch the brick wall, the magic barrier broke open and a brick shifted back on itself, granting me access to the card storage. First, I slid the telekinesis card into the empty hole and watched it being taken by the Vault itself. A series of multi-colored lights danced around as if to scan it, before it slipped inside and left me with nothing more than the empty hole.

  “You know, there’s nothing stopping you from using Krav’s card as your own source of magic,” Link said, scaling my sleeve and coming to rest in my breast pocket. He must have liked the plush and cushioned environment. “Why not try it on for size?”

  I grunted a very small and very fake laugh. “From the ignorance of your question, I can tell that you’ve never used a magicard before. The power begins to wear on you, and it hurts like a mother even when it’s a good card.”

  There laid problem number one with being a Cardkeeper; each card is infused with the soul of a powerful mage. Using their card allowed you to temporarily borrow their power. But the cost? Their personalities also began to transfer over. Before long, you started to think like them, and shortly after that, you began to behave like them. That was all well and good when it was a kind-spirited mage, but when it was someone like Krav? Better to keep that brand of evil locked up tight.

  Problem number two was even worse. The best magic – the spells that were really useful – were all designed by evil bastards with a hunger for nothing but anarchy. So when I was faced with having to track a renegade mage and had to arm myself, I usually ended up with something as useful as porridge-heating powers.

  “Say no more,” Link said, sliding the Krav card from my hand and putting it in place in the wall. “Let’s put this bugger away and hope he’s afraid of the dark.”

  Before the barrier had finished accepting the second card, I turned on my heel and made for the exit. I was dying to scrub myself clean. The bruises would heal faster than a human’s and I would look at least approachable by morning, as long as I slept okay.

  But what I saw next took sleep off the table.

  “Keira Poe.” A hood covered the face of the cloaked man in the doorway, but his yellow sash indicated he was just a messenger. “Dalton and the Elders request your appearance in the Grand Hall.”

  My heart dropped to the vicinity of my toes. The Grand Hall was off-limits unless something serious had happened. Last time I’d been summoned, I had been given news of Manhattan’s own Vault, and how the Keeper of that pillar had been murdered. This time, I expected something just as bad.

  Little did I know, it would be far, far worse.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I wasn’t really sure what to expect when I entered the Grand Hall. Not a welcoming party, that was for damn sure. A Cardkeeper tended to be acknowledged but not particularly liked. Not by the Elders at least. But I’d never expected to be sandwiched in the middle of a hooded-man bitching contest.

  “Once madness like this hits the earth, how much longer do you think it will take for the Vaults themselves to be threatened?” I heard one of them demand. They must have been Elders from a different region’s Vault. I’d heard about them before, but never met them.

  “That is a problem we must deal with when it comes.” Although they all wore the same robes with identical black sashes, I recognized Dalton by his firm but calm voice. I’d never heard him talk in any other way, which sometimes made it hard to decipher his emotions.

  “You’re a damn fool, and we’re all doomed!” The angry Elder and six of the robed men lowered their heads and stormed off into the darkness without looking back.

  While their feet scuffed across the floor, I shifted my gaze to the incredible architecture of the hall. Larger than anyone could imagine, candlelight reflected off the marble surfaces. Pillars the size of small buildings stood at the back, leading into a dark area where no Keeper had ever dared to venture. The place into which the men had just disappeared.

  “Touchy,” Link joked, still perched on my shoulder.

  “Inappropriate,” I whispered.

  A heavy iron door groaned and then slammed shut in the distance. We were no longer alone. Swallowing the awkward lump in my throat, I stalked toward the burning ember pit in the center of the hall, where the three remaining men stood watching.

  “Lady Keira,” Dalton said. Shorter men stood on each side of him. These three always spoke as one, using only Dalton as their voice. A soothing voice that evoked trust in the listener. “Thank you for coming.”

  “What happened? Why were the other Elders here?”

  Dalton turned his back to the fire, and his companions turned with him. They moved in perfect syncopation, only a second behind their leader. “A terrible thing. Hmm.”

  I shook the nerves from my hands, my eyes returning to the darkness. A part of me expected to see something huge and horrible leap out at us, snapping jaws and swiping claws. After all, there must have been some urgent reason I had been summoned, and as far as I could tell, Chicago was in no immediate danger.

  Link tugged at my hood, staying quiet but waving a hand to suggest that I investigate.

  “Allow me to be of service to you,” I said humbly, showing respect where it was due.

  Dalton and the Elders were said to be the first ever mages. If true, their births would date back thousands of years and their power would be… unimaginable. My mind drifted back to when I had first been appointed a Keeper, brazen enough to ask why they didn’t guard the magicards. They never did give me an answer, but Jasper had suggested it was because of their frailty. Understandable, I guess, if your bones were older than Jesus.

  Dalton and the Elders began to walk, heading toward a door at the left of the grand pillars, hidden by their subtlety.

  “Come,” he said.

  What choice did I have but to follow? I knew where we were going. As I was led through a series of doors and through a long and winding hallway, my mind raced with the implications. The most dangerous of magicards were kept in the Dark Room. Even a Cardkeeper wasn’t allowed inside without the company of an Elder. I hadn’t been in there in fifteen years.

  We stopped inside the room. Link slid down my body and onto the floor before stretching out his arms with a yawn. It wasn’t like him to be walking around by our feet – he hated the idea of being stomped into faery juice – but if he didn’t feel safe in the Dark Room then he simply never would.

  “Tell me,” Dalton began as the two Elders spread out, standing on either side of the door behind me. “Does something within these walls feel amiss?”

  I was in no mood for games, but I had to play. I scanned the place with my eyes – a small room with three sconce-lit walls and multi-colored magical barriers to guard the cards. It took me a moment, but when I saw Link pointing at the barriers one after the other, it finally clicked.

  “There are only five cards,” I said under my breath, feeling a sudden chill run through me. “One’s missing.”

  Dalton nodded, his face still hidden beneath the hood of his dark, silky robe.

  “Please tell me it’s being transported to another Vault for safekeeping.” My presence already revealed the answer. But a girl can dream, right? Stark silence met my question and I sighed. “Dare I ask which card?”

  “We suspect that it was stolen within the past few days,” Dalton said, avoiding my question. He wasn’t the type to keep things from me, so I’d have to be patient. “I don’t know how the thief slipped past us, but we think it was an invisibility spell of some kind.”

  I wasn’t buying it. We Keepers could sense magic a mile off, even if it were just a faint scent. Sniffing out evil was how I would track down dangerous mages and bring them in for trial. “Did you confront Jasper? Surely they must have used the portal to gain access?”
>
  Dalton nodded, his hood bobbing in a methodical rhythm. “Yes. Yes, we first suspected him of treason. When we bestowed a truth spell upon him and asked the right questions, it became clear to us that he wasn’t involved.”

  “So then, who?”

  “A former Cardkeeper.”

  I shook my head. As much as I wanted to agree, indulge in the luxury of solid theory, this whole thing seemed too messed up to make any sense. It fed on my anxiety, filling me with dread. “All of the previous Cardkeepers are dead.”

  “Or so we thought.” Dalton placed his hands together, covering them with the baggy sleeve of his robe. Lowering his head even further, he walked carefully around Link and stood by the wall – the one with the missing barrier. “There is a chance that we were misinformed. If one still lives, he or she would be able to access the Vault without our knowledge.”

  No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that a Keeper’s death had simply been misdiagnosed. Without that final confirmation, I would never have been sought to take my predecessor’s place.

  “With a magicard like this on the streets, the world could be in grave danger. If the wielder so chooses, the portal could be crossed and Chicago’s Vault would be the first to fall. Whichever pillars followed thereafter, the Sacred Temple of R’hen would be threatened.”

  I wasn’t sure about my own gulp, but I could hear Link’s from across the room.

  “Lady Keira.” Dalton stepped closer, and then reached out to take my hand in his. It was cold to the touch. “Could you take it upon yourself to retrieve this magicard, and bring it back to its rightful place?”

  Wincing, I drew my hand away and folded my arms. “Which card was stolen?”

  Dalton sighed and turned his back on me, heading for the door. When he stopped between the two Elders, he craned his neck over his shoulder, and whispered one short, terror-inducing word.

  “Chaos.”

  My knees nearly buckled at the strained syllable. Horror stories surrounded the Chaos card, each one scarier than the last. Legend alluded to the card belonging to Merlin himself, before it drove him insane and led him to slaughter. Merlin’s heart had fallen to the power of Chaos, and his magic was no longer his to control. Some said that it was a form of possession – a ghostly entity that consumed your soul and took over your body. No one revealed the sordid truth to mortals out of respect for all the good things that Merlin had done.