Hidden Magic

by Melinda Kucsera

  Will Saleyna be able to keep her magic a secret from the Red Priests?

  Who is the mysterious Veritas? Is he telling the truth, and is he as powerful as Saleyna thinks he is? Find out in the next installment, Wayward Magic.

  About the Author

  Majanka Verstraete studied law and criminology, and now works as Legal Counsel. Ever since she learned how to read, she dreamt about writing books. She writes about all things supernatural, her books ranging from children’s picture books to young adult novels, all the way to new adult academy and reverse harem books.

  For more information about the author, please visit http://majankaverstraete.com

  Don't forget to grab your copy of Wayward Magic now!

  Amaskan

  Raven Oak

  “Amaskan” is a story I’ve wanted to write ever since the characters’ appeared in Amaskan’s Blood and Amaskan’s War. Something about these characters hooked me, and the idea of telling their origin stories made both me and my readers excited. In the Boahim Trilogy, magic is wild and new for most of the Little Dozen Kingdoms, but in this novelette, magic remains hidden. It’s the thing of legends and tales long ago. It’s also terrifying when wielded by mythological creatures rumored to have helped the Thirteen Gods build the world…

  Raven Oak

  It’s not murder if it’s Justice. Or that’s what Shendra had been raised to believe. The feared Order of Amaska had made a trained killer out of her brother, allowing him to seek justice for their mother’s murder. Now Shendra faces a similar decision… Answer the Gods calling and join the Order. Perhaps change it and herself for the better.

  Or die trying.

  Fifteen-years-old and still the memory of her parents’ murder stung. Homeless and starving, her elder brother had discovered his young sister sleeping in a dirty alleyway. Long since a member of the Order, he’d convinced her to join him with a chunk of fresh bread and cheese.

  Fifteen minutes was how long it had taken her to pick the lock the first time she’d tried it. Provided she could pull herself together enough to survive the trials, she would join him in the Order of Amaska. Her fingers shook, and she almost dropped the thin rod to the cobble below.

  Fifteen hours ago, she’d been little more than a trainee but now… Now everything mattered with a sharpness that left her gasping as she stood in the dark alley, the night’s air her only companion.

  I must pass the test, if not for my sake, then for my brother’s.

  The rod shook beneath her fingers as it slid into the lock. Her skin crawled as a few leaves fell to the ground, and she forced herself to ignore her body’s reaction. The only shadow that watched her was her own.

  Polished iron, the lock was a simple thing—nothing difficult really—the sort of lock one would find on half-a-dozen middle class homes across Sadai, yet her fingers continued their trembling habit.

  The wind stopped and in the silence, a slight gasp sounded from the other side of the door. She paused until the sounds passed before resuming her work. Narrow notches across the rod’s top knocked against the lock’s interior, and the spring compressed beneath the rod until a subtle click announced the lock’s submission. She turned the knob half-an-inch before the breathing returned.

  If he breathes any harder, he’ll be hyperventilatin’ before I can get this damned door open. Leave it to my mark to be an insomniac.

  Shendra counted to ten. Twice. She was halfway through a third count when the footfalls shuffled away, and she cracked the door open enough to access the hinges, which she smeared with grease. Likelihood of squeaks aside, she slid through the open door.

  Darkness shrouded the front room, but light drifted in from a narrow hallway ahead. Any floorboard could betray her, so one slippered foot before the other, she prowled her way across the room, both ears open. When the shuffling from the hallway picked up, she pressed her back against the wall and held her breath as the mark passed by the open doorway. A second door opened and closed behind him, and after another dozen heartbeats, she peeked around the corner.

  Nothin’.

  No servants. No furniture. Just a long, narrow hallway with two doors at either end.

  At least it would be easy. The mark had no escape other than through her. Shendra’s muscles quivered as she passed through the corridor with all the speed of a Boahim Senate decision, which was to say not quickly at all. She scowled at the thought of the senators—cowards, the whole lot of ’em. For all their talk of justice, they’d done little more than frown at her parents’ murder five years ago.

  The door stood before her, and like tomorrow’s mission, it filled her with trepidation.

  Dammit. Get it together.

  Another pause, another reason to doubt her ability as an Amaskan. A real Amaskan would’ve been in and outta here in a few heartbeats. Some killer I am.

  She pressed her face against the wood grain and listened. Small hiccups pierced his light breathing as he drifted in and out of a shallow sleep. The rod wasn’t needed for the interior door, as the knob turned gently beneath her hands. More grease was applied to the hinges, but the next heartbeat proved it wholly unnecessary. One foot into the bedroom, a hand gripped her upper arm tight enough to bruise.

  “You’re dead, Shendra. You’ve failed.”

  The candlelight reflected off Bredych’s blue-gray eyes, and Shendra leaned her head against the door’s hard oak, her black hair falling forward to cover her face. “I can’t fail tomorrow. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I couldn’t stop shakin’.”

  Her brother nodded. “Somethin’s off for sure. All that shaking, I could hear the rod in the front door. You havin’—” He bit off a curse before correcting himself. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you bother fixin’ it. Not like anyone cares if you talk all proper when you’re killin’ ‘em.”

  “They might. If you’re sent into a job that requires it. Besides, you avoided my question.”

  The sigh that escaped only reminded her of the tension rigid between her shoulder blades, tension that ran straight down to the balls of her feet. “I-It’s not that I’m havin’ second thoughts so much as havin’ third and fourth thoughts. I mean, I’m gonna kill—”

  He pressed a finger against her lips, his grin a cold flame. “There can be no doubts, sister. None. Fail enough and they’ll—”

  “Kill me. I know.”

  A snap announced the front door closing, and they both flinched. “Guess Master Elish is here,” said Shendra, and a moment later, the bald man stepped into the hallway, broad chest leading the way.

  Master Elish stared down his bull-like nose at his trainee. “Considering the tension in your frame, I suspect something went amiss with your practice run?”

  Like her brother, Bredych, Master Elish’s frown aged him, a reminder that they both carried decades more practice in the art of killing someone. She leaned back into the room’s shadows, shoulders slouching. And Bredych wonders why I have doubts about committin’ myself to the Order. It doesn’t matter what I tell myself, this still feels like murder.

  When Bredych’s elbow connected with her side, she recalled her master’s question. “Bredych caught me enterin’ the bedroom, Master.”

  “But first I heard her pick the lock. She still hasn’t mastered it.”

  “I’m feelin’ out of sorts tonight, Master Elish. Been thinkin’ a lot on my folks.” The lie fled easily from her lips. Yes, they’d been on her mind, but her stomach chased circles around her doubts—the real reason for her distraction.

  “Families are a liability, as they have proven to be tonight.” The rebuke was deserved, so she said nothing as they followed Master Elish from the training houses. Her black wraps clung to her tall frame in the heavy air outside. Shendra tugged at her silk-wrapped wrists as they trudged up the hill towards the Order’s main building.

  She might’ve been dressed like her brother and Master, but everything else was a harsh remi
nder of her future here. Their bald heads and jaw tattoos marked them members of the Order, but it was more than that. The way they moved—almost flowing across the ground—and the way they carried themselves with a confidence that spoke of commitment to their calling. Shendra sighed.

  Despite the late hour, most training areas glowed with torchlight as fellow trainees drilled in the arts of assassination. For all that Master Elish refused to use the term, it fit. The Order of Amaska might’ve served Justice, but killing someone—no matter the reason—was still murder, not to mention a crime against the Thirteen. The knots in Shendra’s stomach twisted tighter and she touched two fingers to her forehead. Thirteen lead me to thy will.

  “Relax,” Bredych whispered as he kept pace with her fast steps. “You’re too obvious.”

  It was easy for him. At thirty-eight, the Order was more than a way to make money. They were his family and his passion. Besides, he’d never minded doing what was necessary to get along in life. Shendra slowed her steps.

  Two Amaskans stood guard at the main building’s entrance, and they nodded to the group as they passed. The casual seating area lacked its usual occupants, and Master Elish gestured for them to join him in the entryway’s empty chairs. “Your preoccupation with family created a failure today. Will you be ready for tomorrow?”

  “Yes, Master.” Another lie, this one less easy than the first.

  “When is she not ready?” Bredych said as he twirled a small twig between lanky fingers. “This is my sister we’re talking about.”

  Tonight was the wrong evening for the joke as Elish turned sharp eyes on them both. “We have much to discuss before the trials tomorrow.”

  A small group of trainees passed them, carrying an undignified amount of giggles with them as they walked by. Her brother waved, missing the tension in Elish’s shoulders. Her master’s exact age was a mystery, but the Order’s records estimated near sixty—an easy to forget fact when training with him left her one long, walking bruise the next morning.

  But this evening, the way his right leg settled awkwardly across his left knee, reminded her that more than her own future within the Order was at risk. If she failed, his bid to be the next Grand Master would be ground into the day’s dust. After all, if he failed to train her successfully, how could he lead the Order? Shendra exhaled, allowing the air to sweep away the weight of her thoughts.

  “For nearly five years you’ve sheltered and trained with us,” Elish said as he followed her gaze. “And for that long, you’ve never been as quiet as you are this evening. If you truly wish to commit yourself to the Order, I ask you to speak your thoughts plainly, Shendra Abner.”

  The laughter in her brother’s eyes fled, and his feet ceased knocking against the chair leg as he stared at the wall over her head. “I—” She paused as Bredych’s thoughts leapt up and danced unspoken before her. He might as well have been screaming. “I’m not sure the Order is the place…”

  The charred remains of her sentence withered to the ground as her Master frowned at the old debate. “It’s far too late for that, Shendra. Either you will be reborn into the Order tomorrow, or…”

  Maybe she could find a moment to leave before morning arrived. One glance at her Master made her doubt the idea, and she nodded her acceptance.

  “I told you she was ready for tomorrow,” said Bredych as he grinned. Normally his smile was contagious, but this evening, his lips were the only ones turned upward.

  Tomorrow, she’d become an Amaskan, or she’d die trying.

  Dim lamps made for darkened hallways at this hour. Shendra paced the hallway outside the small meeting room. “I can’t believe ya told him,” she said to Bredych.

  “What else could I do? Something was obviously chewing on you, and if I didn’t speak up, it would have been my ass on the fire right along with yours. Or had you forgotten that part?”

  “I’ve not forgotten, but what makes ya think you’ve any chance to be Grand Master? Yer not even on the council yet! At least Master Elish has a chance at the position. At least he has a reason to be worried ’bout tomorrow.”

  The parchment’s weight in her pocket felt heavier than it should, and her finger ran along its edge until a sharp sting answered. The pain settled the turning in her stomach.

  Bredych sighed. “I wish you woulda said somethin’ to me. ’Bout your doubts.”

  His reversion back to their childhood tongue reminded her of their mother, and the pain in her stomach returned. “When Ma died—”

  “Don’t.”

  “When she died, I had nothin’. Ya were the one who convinced me I’d find a home with the Order, but I only did it to be with ya. Yer all that I’ve left in this world. Without you, I’d’ve ended up at Lady Essia’s, and we both know it.”

  “So why doubt the Order if we gave you a home?”

  Shendra pressed her forehead against the cool stone wall, and her long, dark curls hid her tears. Tomorrow, if she passed the test, her hair would disappear along with her freedom. “It’s not that I regret gainin’ a home and a family, but at what cost? I’ll never be Shendra again. Everything that’s me will disappear, and in its place will be an Amaskan. A killer. It’s one thing to speak of killin’ and another to actually do it.” She was aware of his hand moments before it rested on her shoulder and resisted the urge to shrug it off. “I’m not talkin’ about the horse manure I repeat to the Masters ’bout servin’ Justice. I’m talkin’ about murder, Bredych. A woman’s gonna die tomorrow.”

  “Lady Essia of Tovias, owner of the only brothel this side of the mountains. Only fool brave enough to skirt the law right here in plain sight of the King, much less in front of the Order.” When she opened her mouth, Bredych shushed her. “Back when you were on the streets, she came after you. She had plans for you. I knew she was bad news, Shen, but I didn’t know everything until….”

  Until the job. It’d been right there in front of her…

  Bredych and Shendra gathered at a small table where parchment after parchment lay stretched across its wood. Across from them sat their master, his fingers dancing across the table as he spoke. “Shendra, your first target is Lady Essia of Tovias. This job comes directly from the King, so ready or not, your initiation into the Order happens in three days’ time.”

  “Can I ask what her crime was?” She knew, but she needed him to say it out loud.

  Elish tilted his head to study her face a moment before replying. “We will always tell you your mark’s crime against the Thirteen. For one to deliver Justice, one must understand why it is necessary. While the Lady runs a brothel, her real money comes from the buying and selling of women.”

  “That’s not legal,” said Shendra, earning herself a glare.

  “That would be why the King has ordered her killed, unofficially of course,” said her brother.

  Shendra bit her tongue. Killing was against the Thirteen as well, whether or not it was for Justice. Not that the Order would ever see the irony.

  “Lady Essia’s sneaky. She prays on those vulnerable, those too poor to do naught else but sell themselves for half a penny.” When the master’s eyes fell upon her, she’d felt smaller than a rain droplet. “Girls like you once were.”

  Master Elish slid a small scrap of parchment across the table toward Bredych, whose face paled when he read it. She leaned towards him, and he crumpled the parchment into his fist before she could see what was written upon it. “We had our eyes on you from the moment your mother died.”

  Her heart cried in protest at her Master’s words. Bredych had said coming after her had been his idea… Was it another lie to keep her where they wanted her?

  “Even still, Lady Essia almost reached you first. Another day and you would’ve been another girl gone missing.”

  “I still say Shendra would have seen through the Lady’s lies,” said Bredych, but Shendra shook her head.

  “That time on the streets—between the sharp pains in m’belly and the cold ache at night, I would’v
e agreed to near anythin’ iffen it meant a solid meal and a warm bed.”

  “Which is what the Lady counts on.” Master Elish shuffled through the stack of parchments before he continued. “It’s not as if she would have told you what you’d be doing at the brothel. Nor would she have exposed you to it immediately. Our Lady Essia is smart. Sly even.”

  The writing across the pages blurred slightly. Four years since the Order had taken her in, yet Shendra could paint a picture of what could’ve been. “Let me guess—she’d rattle off some promise of food and a bed in exchange for some housekeepin’ maybe. Like dishes at her inn or somethin’ simple. Get a good month’s time in with that warm bed and good meal, and then I’d-a-owed her.”

  “Exactly. You would have been in her debt. She would have been well within her right to take it out of you or have you hauled up before the local constable if you didn’t make it right. Of course, she’d lie about how much you owed and the laws that backed her. What’s a starving kid like you going to know about the law?”

  Bredych stood, his lithe frame pacing between the chairs and the wall. Every time he passed her, his foot knocked against the leg of her chair. Whether accidental or intentional, the repetition made her eye twitch. She didn’t blame him. They both shared a healthy imagination. Not that they needed one after the Master read the parchments. The Order and the King had ten years’ of history on Lady Essia’s. “So how does she sell folks? I imagine that’s much harder to sneak by the Boahim Senate,” asked Bredych.

  Another question danced on the tip of Shendra’s tongue, but she held her peace. This one would wait another breath or three.

  Master Elish ran a hand across his bald head before he answered. “That question had us stumped for a decade. We could have killed Lady Essia a dozen times by now, but we’d still be left with too many questions and a possible slave trade out there. Our informants know she tends to sell those who give her grief or those who are too old or broken for her brothel. Ships come from across the Harren Sea, so she’s trading with people outside of Boahim.”