Chasing Magic (Hand Of Justice Book 2)

by Jace Mitchell

  Kris was back to her “couldn’t give a fuck” attitude, although Brighten was scared stiff.

  “Tell us what ya want, because I was havin’ lunch before ya showed up and grabbed me,” Kris scolded.

  “She’s got a mouth on her, don’t she?” the one called Verith said, chuckling.

  “I’m sure you bought that lunch, huh?” the big man asked. “You little street urchin, I betcha stole it from some hard-workin’ man.”

  “Stole it from your mother,” Kris shot back. “Now what do you want?”

  The older woman stepped in. “A ship came here yesterday; you see it?”

  Brighten nodded. “We saw it.”

  “Well, he did,” Kris told them. “He’s slow as hell, but he’s smart, and he’s got eyes like a fuckin’ hawk.”

  “Good.” The old lady smiled. “That’s what we want to talk about. The ship and this kingdom. Mainly the kingdom; do you know anything about that?”

  “Sure as hell do.” Kris grinned. “But it’s gonna cost ya.”

  “Aw, hell,” the big man grumbled. “We’re being held up by kids who barely reach my belt buckle.”

  Harold and Rendal shared the same room, one lacking the furnishings Rendal was used to.

  Harold was fine with the room, but he had no idea what was about to happen.

  They’d been ushered into this room and questioned for a few hours. Rendal handled all the questions, not showing any stress. Even when they asked about his bracelets, he was completely confident.

  “Oh, these? Just little pieces of jewelry. Personally, I don’t like them, but some of the places I visit find the stones in them beautiful. Leads to better sales.”

  He had smiled as if to say, “Who can blame me?”

  The questioning went on, but all the answers were the same: they were merchants looking to talk to the Prefect to set up favorable trading terms. No, he would not meet with anyone else. No, he was not armed. If the Prefect would not see him, then the Prefect would be withholding a steady stream of valuables at reasonable prices from his people.

  “What if they don’t bring you to him?” Harold asked.

  Rendal lay on a cot on the other side of the room. His hands were behind his head while he stared at the ceiling.

  “Oh, they will, Harold.”

  “I don’t doubt you, sir, but why?”

  Rendal didn’t look over. “Because of the nine ships on the horizon. Never underestimate human greed, Harold. Not everyone holds your values. It’s not power this man serves, but greed. Those ships mean money for him and for his people. He’ll see me.”

  Harold stared at his master, hardly able to believe it. “Were you planning this? Was that one of the reasons we picked up so many ships?”

  “Of course, Harold. The men on board will definitely help with my plans of militaristic conquest, but the ships help when other means are necessary.”

  The door to the room opened. Harold didn’t look up.

  “Prefect Slidell has agreed to see you, Hemmons. The accountant will remain here.”

  “That’s fine!” Rendal hopped up. “Harold’s a big boy. He can take of himself. Let’s go see the Prefect.”

  The guard stared at Hemmons as if he had two heads, and Harold thought only a single sentence: This city is doomed.

  Rendal followed the guard through the castle to the tower. He admired the tower and thought he would add one to New Perth when he returned. In reality, he thought there was a lot New Perth could learn from this place.

  The climb up the tower was long, but Rendal didn’t mind. He had the energy of an eighteen-year-old and thought he might actually be hearing the guard above him huffing just a bit.

  They reached the top of the stairs, and Rendal looked out the window to his right. He loved the view; it was simply gorgeous. The kingdom stretched as far as the eye could see.

  Yes, this would make a good vacation home.

  “We’ve arrived,” the guard said stuffily.

  “Oh?” Rendal asked as if he were dumb. “Is that what the door means?”

  “Watch your tongue, merchant.”

  Rendal decided he would drop the man from this tower when he was finished with the Prefect.

  The guard knocked on the door three times with a closed fist.

  “Enter,” the Prefect answered.

  The guard pulled the large handle and stepped in.

  “Your Majesty, I present the merchant from earlier: Rendal Hemmons.”

  “Thank you,” the Prefect replied. “You may leave us.”

  The guard bowed slightly and turned. He looked at Rendal as he passed, and the mage grinned at him.

  See you soon, he thought, knowing that the guard would feel a hint of the words but not know where they came from.

  He turned to Slidell.

  “They tell me you’re an important man,” the Prefect told him. “That you have ten ships waiting on the ocean for us, all filled to the brim with bounty you’re willing to trade. Is that true?”

  He was youthful, with dark hair and a square jaw. He looked more like a politician than a mage.

  “It is, your Majesty,” Rendal answered. “For the right price.”

  “They didn’t tell me you practiced magic as well,” the Prefect commented. “Most likely my guards couldn’t tell.”

  Astute, Rendal thought, unable to keep from grinning.

  “I do. Much like what I’ve heard of Sidnie, where I come from, magic is freely practiced.”

  “Yes, that’s true. We encourage it here, and even allow local practitioners to set up shop and teach it. Sidnie is a free place, and most magic is welcome.” The Prefect moved out from behind his large desk. “It all depends on the user’s intent.”

  “I’ve used no magic here, nor do I intend to, your Majesty. I only wish to grow a profitable relationship.”

  The Prefect wasn’t a trusting man. “Then why do you keep the ships with your goods so far from our shores. Why not bring them with you?”

  Rendal gave a sly smile. “And what if your intentions weren’t as pure as mine, Prefect? I’d have lost all of my goods as well as my life.”

  The Prefect grinned back. “Come and sit with me, Rendal. Let’s talk about your terms.”

  “Of course, your Majesty.”

  They made their way to the middle of the room, where two large couches sat opposite each other. Rendal waited for the Prefect, then sat down himself.

  “Where are you from, Rendal?” Slidell asked.

  Rendal pulled a coin from his pocket and began to flip it back and forth between his first two fingers. “Oh, you know, here and there.”

  The Prefect’s eyes went to the coin. “Well, where do you hail from now?”

  Rendal watched the man, his own eyes growing narrow. “A bit farther north than this.”

  The coin kept flipping. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  “What kind…” the Prefect’s speech slowed a bit. “What kind of terms are you looking for, Rendal? I wouldn’t have agreed to see you if not for the ships outside.”

  Rendal started flipping the coin across four fingers.

  Flip, flip, flip, flip.

  Brief pause.

  And then the return.

  Flip, flip, flip, flip.

  “If I can be honest with you, Prefect Slidell, I was thinking about a partnership between you and me.”

  The Prefect’s eyes were growing wider, and Rendal started grinning.

  “I…like…that…idea,” the Prefect said extremely slowly.

  It was hard to use magic when you weren’t in complete control of your mind.

  “You and I should talk much longer than the thirty minutes you gave me, wouldn’t you agree?”

  The Prefect nodded.

  “Finding it hard to talk, Prefect Slidell?”

  Another nod.

  Rendal nodded right back. “Good. That’s how we want it.”

  The door opened, and Harold looked up. He had no sword, no weapon at all,
and would have to try brawling his way out of here if shit went south.

  A guard stood in the doorway.

  “The Prefect would like to see you.”

  Harold showed no sign of fear or excitement. He simply stood.

  Internally, he thought the master was either dead or in charge of the fucking place by now.

  He didn’t know which. Either was possible.

  Harold looked at the guard, hoping to see a tell, but got nothing.

  “All right,” Harold responded. “Let’s go, then.”

  They went up the many steps in silence, Harold’s senses on high alert.

  They reached the door, and the guard knocked three times.

  “Send him in,” someone called. “Stay outside, guard.”

  The voice sounded sleepy, and for the first time, Harold could feel the guard’s unease.

  “You may enter,” the guard told him.

  Harold pulled the door open and stepped inside.

  A young man stood ten feet in front of him. He didn’t see the master anywhere.

  “Please…shut the…door,” the man instructed.

  Harold did as he was told.

  “Ah! Harold, so glad you could make it!” Rendal called. He stepped out of the corner, his eyes turning from red to their normal color. “Sorry about that, Harold. I had to make sure the guard didn’t see me. We have to keep up appearances right now.”

  “Sir,” Harold spoke, “I don’t think I understand.” He kept staring at the man in front of him.

  “Ohhh, sorry.” Rendal smiled and walked across the room. He placed his arm over the man’s shoulders. “This here is Prefect Lawrence Slidell.” He looked at the Prefect, who stared forward blankly. “Prefect Slidell, meet my main man Harold!”

  The Prefect didn’t move.

  “He’s so bad with manners.” Rendal smiled wider and released the Prefect.

  “Sir, what’s happening?” Harold asked.

  The mage walked to the large wooden desk, sat down in the chair, and propped his feet on the desk. “How ya like my new digs, Harold?”

  Harold only swallowed.

  Rendal laughed. “Lighten up! The Prefect over there is ours now. We got the run of the place, just like I said we would!”

  “I don’t mean to question you, sir, but how?”

  “Prefect Slidell, can you come here for a second?”

  Harold watched the man turn from staring at the door and walk over to the desk. He looked straight ahead blankly.

  “Pick your nose, Prefect,” the mage commanded.

  Sure enough, the Prefect put his pointer finger in his nose and started rooting around.

  “He’s digging for gold!” Rendal shouted, laughing.

  “How… How are you doing that?” Harold asked.

  “Harold, for all the skill you’ve got with a sword, you sure don’t know much about persuasion. I hypnotized the bastard. All the magic in this kingdom, why would I attack them? I don’t need to. I just need to control this single man and the rest of the place is mine.”

  Harold’s eyes narrowed.

  “I know, you’re wondering why I didn’t do that with New Perth. They know me there. Wouldn’t work. Plus, I don’t want to hide in the shadows there, you know? I want my face to be seen.”

  Harold was starting to understand.

  “I’ve got a pretty face, Harold. You know this.” The mage couldn’t stop smiling.

  “So, you’ve already taken the city…just like that?” Harold asked.

  “Yes, Harold. You’re seeing it now. The city is ours. I’ll have to re-hypnotize this little fella every twelve hours or so, but he’s going to do everything I say from now on.”

  Rendal stood from the chair and walked over to the zombie-like Prefect.

  “We’ll start slowly,” he continued with a devilish grin. “Warm these people up. What’s that saying? ‘You can put a frog into a pot of water and slowly turn the heat up until they boil to death?’ They won’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late.”

  He glanced at Harold.

  “That’s what we’re going to do here, and when Riley sees how bad it gets, she’ll break. Now, go bring the rest of the ships in, then bring Mason to me.” He clapped the Prefect on the back. “Welcome to the team!”

  “Hear ye, hear ye! Gather ‘round, everyone!”

  Brighten and Kris stood at the back of the crowd, although it was growing thicker by the moment and pushing them farther back. Brighten was fine with that; he would be able to hear and see fine.

  “I swear, when I get older and bigger, I’mma bust these people in the lip for thinkin’ they can push me this way and that,” Kris growled.

  She was less content with the situation.

  “By Royal Proclamation, Prefect Lawrence Slidell is creating a Royal School of Magic Training. While the Prefect is appreciative of everything that the local practitioners have done to teach magic, the Royal Proclamation hereby commands the shutting down of all individual magic teachers. This Proclamation will be posted throughout the Kingdom. Long live the Prefect!”

  The crowd was silent, almost spookily so. Brighten watched and listened as people turned to each other and whispered, not understanding what exactly was happening—or why.

  “William’s gonna wanna hear this,” Brighten said.

  “For bein’ so smart, you sure say the dumbest things. Looks like he’s done, aye?”

  Brighten nodded. The guard who’d read the proclamation was nailing the paper to a wooden pole behind him.

  “Let’s get back to base,” Brighten whispered.

  “Base, huh? That what you’re callin’ the shack these rabble-rousers are livin’ in? They’re in Shantyville, for goodness’ sake.” Kris smiled. “Come on. Race you!”

  She took off and Brighten wanted to slug her in the shoulder. It wasn’t fair to begin with, but certainly not when she got a head start.

  He bolted forward, trying to keep up but knowing it was hopeless. They wound through the streets they both knew like the backs of their hands.

  It took about fifteen minutes to get from the center of town to the shanty on the edge.

  Kris walked in first and Brighten followed.

  “Hey, fatso,” she said as she passed William.

  “All that talk, little lady, but you won’t pick up a sword and face me, will you?” the big man asked from his chair on the other side of the room.

  “I would, but I’d simply run around in circles until you tired out and keeled over. Prolly take ‘bout thirty seconds,” Kris shot back.

  “Enough.” Lucie stepped in from the kitchen.

  Brighten liked having these people here, and he thought Kris did too. He especially liked their cooking. This might be a shanty in the poorest part of the kingdom, but Lucie knew her way around a fire.

  Even now the place smelled of roasted rabbit. Something was going on in the back, although Lucie would shoo Brighten away if he tried to get to it.

  “You’s right,” Kris answered. “Somethin’ is most definitely going on in the tower. Prefect just put out a notice that all the magic shops are to be shut down—”

  “What’s that mean?” William interrupted.

  “If you’d shut yer trap, I could tell ya,” Kris quipped. “The proclamation said the Prefect was startin’ a magic school or somethin’. I don’t know. What do you think, Brighten?”

  Brighten had been quiet since entering. He liked the banter between William and Kris, although he didn’t feel completely comfortable yet.

  “The magic school don’t make sense,” he answered. He’d been thinking about it during their run here. “Sidnie supports as many people learnin’ magic as it can. I know not everybody can, but I’d be willin’ to bet a higher percentage practices magic here than anywhere else because of how strong it’s supported. Shuttin’ down the magic shops and then creatin’ a school? That goes against everything.”

  Kris was nodding along.

  “Tell us more, Bri
ghten,” Lucie prodded.

  She could tell he’d been thinking.

  “Could be what ya said. Could be those two men got control over the Prefect,” he answered.

  “Ain’t none of that true, Brighten,” Kris interjected. “I done told ya. These people lyin’, and the only reason I’m stickin’ around is because this lady can cook.”

  He knew she was joking.

  They both were starting to believe.

  Lucie had broken down the story for them last night. Some mage from miles and miles away had been kidnapping people from Sidnie for years and holding them captive while he sucked their magic from them.

  It sounded crazy.

  “Sure does,” Kris had said.

  Yet there had been kidnappings. Everybody knew about them. They were sporadic, but the kingdom would wake up one morning, and ten or twenty people would simply be missing.

  It’d been happening for years.

  There wasn’t any official doctrine on it from the Prefect, but the townspeople knew it. Everyone, and Brighten meant everyone, knew of someone who’d simply gone missing.

  “Aye.” William glanced at Kris. “I hope you get taken next, sure ‘nuff.”

  “Would you two please focus?” Lucie asked. “You two are at least as bad as Riley when she’s around. Now, this makes sense, if ya think about it. He’s been stealing magic forever from this place, but if he has control over it, why not just bring them all right to him?”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Erin said.

  Brighten thought the woman was beautiful, and he knew William did too. Every single time she spoke, the big man straightened up a bit. Brighten didn’t think William even noticed; it was simply automatic.

  Lucie turned to the redhaired beauty. “Go on.”

  “By all means,” William added.

  Kris rolled her eyes but said nothing, noticing that Brighten did too.

  “Well, maybe he doesn’t need to make himself more powerful—not if he can get the magic folks here to simply serve him. Wouldn’t that be easier? Use a lot less energy?”

  “That’s really smart.” William nodded.

  “Oh, give it a rest.” Kris looked like she might roll her eyes so hard, they’d fall out of her head.