The Fairhaven Chronicles Boxed Set: The Revelations of Oriceran

by S. M. Boyce

  The blade cut through the air near her face, and she smirked at the delightful hiss. Eyes closed, breath steady, she could sense everything in the room around her: the punching bag hanging from a support beam, the weights in the corner, the drag of her boots in the dirt, kicking up dust with every step. The rusty musk of the soil filled her lungs, bringing her into the moment.

  “You’re getting better,” a man said.

  “Gah!” Startled, nervous, and a little pissed off at the interruption, Victoria tripped. The magical sword disappeared in a puff as she landed hard on her palms and knees.

  Shiloh rested against the far wall, arms crossed as he leaned against the stone for support. He lifted a lazy eyebrow as she studied him.

  Stupid ghost elf. He might be tied to her Rhazdon Artifact, but she didn’t like the way he hovered—mostly invisibly—over her shoulder at all times. He saw everything she did, and likely sensed how she felt.

  It freaked her out.

  As she stood, she dusted the dirt off her pants. “I told you not to pop up randomly like that. It—wait, did you just compliment me?”

  “I did.”

  “But… But you don’t say nice things.” They had been together since the day she fused with the Rhazdon Artifact, but she couldn’t recall a single kind word ever coming out of his mouth. The bored ghost didn’t help, and rarely bothered to show his face at all.

  This niceness thing was…well, weird.

  He shrugged. “You actually stand a chance of surviving. I’m surprised.”

  “Uh, thanks?” she said, not sure if that counted as a kindness.

  As fast as he had appeared, he vanished. This was his thing, of course. She tried not to let it bother her, especially since she had no control over him. Like it or not, he was connected to her until the day she died.

  Yippee.

  Hands on her hips, Victoria studied the dusty gym in their hastily acquired new home. Bertha had found it mere hours after she and Audrey had returned from Atlantis to find a new regime slowly encroaching on Fairhaven. The shift in power was led by none other than Luak.

  That asshole.

  Anger, hatred, and loss burned inside her like a revenge cocktail. He had taken her parents from her, which had jumpstarted this new life in Fairhaven. While she loved her new home, she would give anything to have her parents back.

  But even in the powerful underground city of ogres and elves and wizard kings, some things were still impossible.

  If Victoria ever stepped outside, Luak and his goons would come for her. Spies now roamed the city, popping up in every alley and peeking through every window.

  Nowhere was safe.

  Fairhaven lived in fear. The streets were empty, and many shops had closed, their owners fleeing in the night. War was coming, and the final battle for Fairhaven was going to be a bloody one.

  Someday she would slit Luak’s throat for killing her parents and threatening her new home. She would enjoy watching him bleed out, and, deep down she hoped he would beg for the mercy he wasn’t worthy to receive.

  Was that cruel of her? Maybe, but her hatred of the elf was well earned. He would die, and she would be the one to kill him.

  But today was not that day.

  She wasn’t ready, and wouldn’t be until she was physically strong enough to summon both a sword and a shield at the same time. This Rhazdon Artifact wasn’t designed for humans. They simply couldn’t develop the necessary strength to wield it properly.

  Damn it.

  She sighed and trotted up the stairs, debating if she should eat the healthy food Bertha had prepared or throw herself a pity party of one and indulge in some carbo-load binging.

  The door to the upstairs hall creaked as she pushed it open, but the tense silence in the kitchen plucked on her nerves like fingers on guitar strings.

  Hair on end, shoulders tense, she listened. This dusty old three-story house set her on edge. It had been abandoned for years, and something about it felt wrong. Busy, even when she was alone. Loud, even when no one was talking. Her ears always rang as though someone had just shouted right by her head, even though no one had spoken a word. It was as though someone were always walking past her even when there wasn’t a soul around.

  But this tension here and now—this was different.

  In the kitchen not far away, a chair scraped against the floor. Someone huffed, and the clunk of a mug hitting the table followed. Audrey was training with Bertha today, so it didn’t make sense for anyone to be home. Besides, from what little noise the stranger made, he sounded male.

  Victoria summoned her sword. It blinked to life, and its familiar weight pressed into her palms. Though it was a deadly blade by nature, she willed it to be even sharper as she stalked toward her prey. Back arched, she tiptoed to the corner as she prepared herself for a fight.

  If Luak had come for her, she would give him the fight of his life.

  She held her breath as adrenaline pumped through her, sweat pooling on her brow as her fight or flight response kicked in.

  Victoria would obviously choose “fight.”

  Slow, steady, and ready for battle, Victoria peeked around the corner to see who was sitting at her kitchen table. The cloaked form leaned over a plate and adjusted himself in his chair, his familiar white hair hanging down his back as he chewed.

  She let out the breath she was holding and nearly kicked the wall. It was Fyrn-freaking-Folly.

  Victoria relaxed, her relief tainted with a hint of disappointment at not getting to tear into her arch enemy. At least her mentor was finally home. “I’m glad you’re back. It’s been weeks. How was it, doing the mighty USA’s bidding?”

  “Perfectly horrible.” The old wizard didn’t even bother turning around.

  “Did you smack around the asshole who blackmailed you into running their little errand?” She pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat, elbows resting on the surface as she examined the wizard who had illegally—but to her gratitude—taught her to control her Rhazdon Artifact.

  He slouched as he bit into one of the hard-boiled eggs from her fridge, frowning with every bite. “Unfortunately there was no ‘smacking around’ of anyone, much less the blackmailer. The coward hid halfway around the world. I couldn’t even speak to him.”

  “What a jackass.”

  Fyrn’s eyes landed lazily on her, and his face showed a twinge of displeasure and the barest hint of amusement. “Indeed he was. You’ve become so eloquent in your time among the magic folk.”

  Victoria shrugged it off. “I don’t pretend to be perfect. Besides, aren’t people who cuss supposed to be more honest?”

  The wizard rolled his eyes and Victoria suppressed a smirk. The rolling of eyes was her thing, never his. Her habits must have rubbed off on him without his even knowing. He picked up another hardboiled egg and dipped it in the salt piled on his plate. “I sent fairies to find him. I’ll speak with him eventually.”

  “Good. Can’t have government folks interfering with Fairhaven.”

  Fyrn nodded. “We’ll resume your training tomorrow. Right now I need a nap.”

  “Then why did you come here? Did you come to my house just to eat my food?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Victoria chuckled and shook her head, but it wouldn’t help to argue. “How did you even find me? Bertha hid us well.”

  “I know almost everything about Fairhaven, Victoria, and my spies tell me the rest.”

  Right, the fairies.

  “Glad you’re on my side, then,” Victoria said.

  Fyrn smiled and stood, leaving his plate on the table. “As am I.”

  With that, the old wizard shuffled out of her kitchen toward the secret passage hidden behind a bookshelf in the back room. The creaky old door hid a dirt path that sloped downward toward the tunnels beneath Fairhaven. They served as the only safe means of traveling undetected through the city, despite the plethora of venomous, poisonous, and downright dangerous creatures who lived there.<
br />
  Fyrn disappeared through the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, the shadows in the chilly home engulfing him until all Victoria could perceive was the subtle tap of his staff hitting the ground as he walked.

  “Kooky old fart,” she muttered to herself.

  “I heard that,” he shouted from the passage.

  Victoria groaned. He really did know everything.

  ***

  Fyrn had a difficult choice to make.

  He wandered the tunnels beneath Victoria’s new house, in no hurry to return home. Though he enjoyed the idea of stretching out in his bed and sleeping until he no longer could, he had a life or death dilemma on his hands.

  Victoria.

  He had exhausted every resource, used every favor, and read every book on the subject. All that effort, and still he had no answers. Much to his disappointment, he was no closer to finding a way to strengthen her body through magic.

  No spell, no ritual, no relic in existence could give her enough physical strength to completely master her Rhazdon Artifact. And if she didn’t—if she couldn’t wield both her sword and shield at once—Luak would kill her in their inevitable battle.

  “Hello, sir,” a squeaky little voice said from the shadows of the tunnel.

  He smiled despite himself. “Hello, my dear Melzzie. How were things while I was gone?”

  The little fairy with the long fire-red hair flew into view, her tiny wings buzzing as she hovered by his head. “Things in Fairhaven are horrendous. No one has seen King Bornt in weeks. Many think he’s in prison, or dead. No one loved our king, but he was the lesser of two evils in this situation. There are some who believe Luak has already taken over. Some say he’s biding his time until he has enough forces to enslave the city.”

  “He hasn’t taken over—not yet. But he will.”

  Melzzie shivered. “What terrible times.”

  “We still have hope.”

  “The Rhazdon host?”

  Fyrn nodded.

  “But Luak is a menace. He has two Rhazdon Artifacts, sir, maybe more. It’s impossible to beat him.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Fyrn replied wistfully, eyes glazing as his feet led him home out of habit. He had walked these tunnels since his youth, and nothing that lived here scared him in the slightest. The monsters here seemed to know he was a force to be reckoned with, and they kept a respectful distance.

  The monsters in the bowels of Fairhaven might not have scared him, but losing Victoria to a savage elf? Now, that sent dread clear to his toes. She had grown into her power while protecting and cherishing the city that had served as her safe haven from the storm of her loss, pain, and grief.

  “These are indeed desperate times,” he muttered.

  The fairy flitted overhead, her tiny blue wings buzzing. “I know the Rhazdon host is powerful, but can she truly defeat Luak and his mercenaries? He’s building an army, Fyrn, with a rich woman’s gold.”

  “He is, and it will not be easy to stop him. It will take time to find out who his mistress is, but that’s not urgent. Saving Fairhaven is. We don’t have the luxury of waiting for more information or an opportune moment. If we don’t act soon, we’ll lose our chance forever.”

  “Forever? But why?”

  Fyrn rubbed his neck, hating to admit the truth. “If Luak takes over and too many of his soldiers come here, we will never reclaim our city. He will be too powerful, the castle impenetrable, and his influence too hard to shake. He will own the criminal elements of the city, and will bargain with them to keep Fairhaven in chaos. Hell, it’s already happening. We lose more citizens every night, whether it’s someone escaping in the darkness to a better life or a mugging gone wrong.”

  “What can we do?” The terrified fairy wrung her hands, biting her lip as she waited for an answer.

  Fyrn didn’t like it, but they had only one option at this point. “To kill him, Victoria will need to be able to win a fight with impossible odds. It can’t matter if she’s outnumbered. She must always win. Unfortunately, Bertha tells me Victoria lost to the Atlanteans in a surprise attack. That can never happen again.”

  “A surprise attack?”

  He shook his head. “Losing. It can’t matter what she’s faced with. She must always win.”

  “But how?” Melzzie asked.

  Fyrn knew. He simply didn’t like the answer. “Melzzie, have you found that Rhazdon Artifact I asked for before I left?”

  “Not yet, sir. Wherever it is, it’s very well hidden. We have a few leads, but nothing certain.”

  Fyrn sighed in disappointment. “I’m not surprised, but it’s imperative that we find it as soon as possible. Fetch the others. Leave only the essential spies in the palace and Drefus’ den. Everyone else must hunt for it.”

  “But sir, another Rhazdon Artifact? What if… What if she…” The fairy didn’t need to finish her sentence. Both she and Fyrn knew the risks. Victoria’s good heart could become corrupted by the sheer power blistering through her veins. It wouldn’t be a matter of losing control of herself, but of essentially slipping into the darkness and embracing cruelty and pain like so many other Rhazdon hosts before her.

  Dark magic twisted even good people, and that was Fyrn’s ultimate fear. In her effort to gain enough power to protect those she loved, Victoria could step too far into the shadows. She’d slowly begin to indulge in bloodlust and develop a thirst for control over others.

  In effect, she would become the next Luak—only she would not stoop so low as to have a master.

  Fyrn shook his head, doing his best to clear his mind of fear. It slowed him down, and served no real purpose. He had faith in her good nature and her pure heart, even if she did curse like a sailor.

  “We have no choice, Melzzie.” Fyrn hated to speak those words, but in this case they were the truth. Either Victoria enhanced her skills with another Rhazdon Artifact, or Fairhaven and Victoria both would fall to Luak. Fyrn was a powerful wizard, but his magic had limits that fell short of fighting a full army and a bloodthirsty elf with seemingly unlimited resources.

  Only Victoria could save them, and she would pay the cost for her power.

  He sighed, pausing in the middle of the tunnel to lean on his staff. If he had second thoughts, now was the time to stop this madness.

  Now or never.

  “You remember what the Rhazdon Artifact looks like? The onyx bear figurine?” he softly asked the fairy.

  She nodded, but she frowned shortly thereafter.

  Fyrn knew that look. “You doubt my decision.”

  “You know best, sir. It’s just…”

  “Yes?”

  “We’ve been talking, the other fairies and I. King Bornt won’t be happy to hear she’s willingly hunting for a second Rhazdon Artifact. The first one was a mistake, but to actively seek a second one?”

  He sighed, at a loss. “I know, Melzzie. I know. They’re still illegal, after all, and her means of acquiring the first one was unconventional at best. Accidents happen, but deliberately merging with more dark magic could undo the fragile public image Victoria has built here in Fairhaven.”

  The little fairy nodded. “I’m trying to be realistic, sir, and look at this from every angle like you taught me. Even if she saves the city, people will fear her. Some may rally against her, already spooked by the power-mad elf who is trying to take over. Some may think she’s nothing more than an opportunist who will use the chaos to take the throne for herself. Even if she wins the battle, she will likely face more wars on the other side.”

  “Yes, she may.”

  The tiny fairy began to fly in circles around his head, her version of pacing. “Fear means assumptions, and assumptions about powerful people can lead to panic and riots. The people will fear her, even if she saves them.”

  “They might love her.”

  “A Rhazdon host with two artifacts?” The fairy raised one delicate eyebrow in doubt.

  Fyrn shrugged. “It’s possible.”

  “Per
haps, but it’s unlikely.”

  “Our options are to save Fairhaven with dark magic or let it fall to a murderer. Her public image taking a hit is an acceptable risk.”

  “Even if that risk puts her life in danger?”

  He stared at the ground, trying to ignore the sadness tugging at his heart. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep that from happening, but yes. Even then.”

  Melzzie set her hands on her hips as her wings buzzed, suspending her in midair. “Very well, sir. If you’re certain?”