Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
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
About the Author
Praise for
Armed & Magical
“Fresh, original, and fall-out-of-your-chair funny, Lisa Shearin’s Armed & Magical combines deft characterization, snarky dialogue, and nonstop action—plus a yummy hint of romance—to create one of the best reads of the year. This book is a bona fide winner, the series a keeper, and Shearin a definite star on the rise.”
—Linnea Sinclair, RITA Award-winning author of Hope’s Folly
“An exciting, catch-me-if-you-can, lightning-fast-paced tale of magic and evil filled with goblins, elves, mages, and a hint of love interest that will leave fantasy readers anxiously awaiting Raine’s next adventure.”
—Monsters and Critics
“The kind of book you hope to find when you go to the bookstore. It takes you away to a world of danger, magic, and adventure, and it does so with dazzling wit and clever humor. It’s gritty, funny, and sexy—a wonderful addition to the urban-fantasy genre. I absolutely loved it. From now on, Lisa Shearin is on my auto-buy list!”
—Ilona Andrews, national bestselling author of Magic Strikes
“Armed & Magical, like its predecessor, is an enchanting read from the very first page. I absolutely loved it. Shearin weaves a web of magic with a dash of romance that thoroughly snares the reader. She’s definitely an author to watch!”
—Anya Bast, national bestselling author of Witch Heart
“Intriguing.”
—SFRevu
“Shearin continues to demonstrate her marvelous gift for balancing offbeat humor with high-stakes adventure and paranormal thrills in book two of her high-octane, first-person suspense ride. You don’t get much better than this imaginative and hilarious book.”
—Romantic Times
“One of the best reads I’ve had in a long, long time. There are twists, turns, shocks, and surprises—all contained in a fast-paced story. ‘Unpredictable’ would be an understatement, and the witty dialogue, both spoken and internal, is exceptional . . . If you love an imaginative fantasy romp with a winning blend of laugh-out-loud humor and chilling suspense, this novel is a must-read.”
—The Toasted Scimitar
Magic Lost, Trouble Found
“Take a witty, kick-ass heroine and put her in a vividly realized fantasy world where the stakes are high, and you’ve got a fun, page-turning read in Magic Lost, Trouble Found. I can’t wait to read more of Raine Benares’s adventures.”
—Shanna Swendson, author of Don’t Hex with Texas
“A wonderful fantasy tale full of different races and myths and legends [that] are drawn so perfectly readers will believe they actually exist. Raine is a strong female, a leader who wants to do the right thing even when she isn’t sure what that is . . . Lisa Shearin has the magic touch.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Shearin serves up an imaginative fantasy . . . The strong, well-executed story line and characters, along with a nice twist to the ‘object of unspeakable power’ theme, make for an enjoyable, fast-paced read.”
—Monsters and Critics
“Lisa Shearin turns expectation on its ear and gives us a different
kind of urban fantasy with Magic Lost, Trouble Found.
For once, the urban is as fantastic as the fantasy, as Shearin
presents an otherworld city peopled with beautiful goblins,
piratical elves, and hardly a human to be found. Littered with
entertaining characters and a protagonist whose self-serving
lifestyle is compromised only by her loyalty to her friends,
Magic Lost is an absolutely enjoyable read. I look forward to
the next one!”
—C. E. Murphy, author of The Pretender’s Crown
“Lisa Shearin has the potential to become the Janet Evanovich of fantasy. She writes with a fun, unpretentious style, and she has mastered writing with humor.”
—SFFWorld.com
“[An] edgy and fascinating first-person adventure. In her auspicious debut, Shearin populates her series with a variety of supernatural characters with a multitude of motives. Following along as this tough and feisty woman kicks butt and takes names is a most enjoyable way to spend your time.”
—Romantic Times
“Nicely done. I actively enjoyed the characters and their banter.”
—Critical Mass
“Fun, fascinating, and loaded with excitement! Magic Lost, Trouble Found is a top-notch read of magic, mayhem, and some of the most charming elves and goblins I’ve ever encountered. Enthralling characters and a thrilling plot . . . I now need to cast a spell on Ms. Shearin to ensure there’s a sequel.”
—Linnea Sinclair, RITA Award-winning author of Hope’s Folly
“A friendly romp, a magical adventure story with a touch of light romance.”
—Romance Reviews Today
Ace Books by Lisa Shearin
MAGIC LOST, TROUBLE FOUND
ARMED & MAGICAL
THE TROUBLE WITH DEMONS
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
THE TROUBLE WITH DEMONS
An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Ace mass-market edition / May 2009
Copyright © 2009 by Lisa Shearin.
Map illustration by Lisa Shearin and Shari Lambert.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eISBN : 978-1-101-04422-3
ACE
Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ACE and the “A” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
http://us.penguingroup.com
As always, for Derek
Thank you for encouraging my dream, for understanding the hours I spend at the computer, and for knowing when to take me to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Chocolate ice cream and M&M’S make any plot snag (or author crankiness/stress) go away. You’re the perfect author husband. I love you more than words can say.
Acknowledgments
To God, who makes all things possible and who made my dream come true.
To Kristin Nelson, who in my opinion is the best agent on the planet. Period. And to Nelson Literary Agency assistant Sara Megibow, who always gets me what I need even before I know I want it.
To my fabulous editor, Anne Sowards. You share my vision for Raine’s stories and probably know what I’m thinking before I write it down.
To Aleta Rafton, my amazing cover artist. Thank you for bringing Raine to demon-butt-kicking life.
To Cameron Dufty, Ace editorial assistant (and in my opinion the best editorial assistant in New York), and my new Ace publicist, Rosanne Romanello. Thank you both for all of your hard work and endless energy.
To Shari Lambert, for bringing artistic flair to the map of Raine’s world. I can’t draw a tree or mountain to save my life.
To Todd and Elyse, my splendid webmaster and designer. Thank you for making www.lisashearin.com such a cool place to visit and hang out.
To the cherished members of my Yahoo! Group fan club—Raine’s Rangers. I can always go there for support, encouragement, and a good laugh. You guys are the best. And mucho thanks to David, Marie, Megan, Patty, and Renee—the moderators who keep the party under control. Save me a bar stool in the tavern and pour me a pint.
To simply the best fans any author could ever hope for. Your e-mails, blog posts, cards, and endless enthusiasm keep me going. These books are for you.
Chapter 1
I knew there was evil in the world. Death and taxes were all necessary evils.
So was shopping.
“I hate shopping,” I muttered.
“Of course you do,” Phaelan said. “You’re a Benares. We’re not used to paying for anything.” Phaelan was my cousin; he called himself a seafaring businessman. Law enforcement in every major port city called him “that damned pirate,” or less flattering epithets, none of them repeatable here.
I really hated shopping. More to the point, I hated the aggravation of having to go into one shop after another to actually find the things I needed, things I had to have. Which was really strange considering what I did for a living.
My name is Raine Benares. I’m an elf and a seeker—and then some.
Two weeks ago, I found the Saghred—an ancient stone of cataclysmic power, an annihilator of armies, a stealer of souls, an eater of spellsingers, and the bane of my existence. The soul-sucking rock attached itself to me like a psychic leech. My magical skill level used to be marginal. Now I don’t think I have any limits.
So I came to the only place with people who could possibly help me.
The Isle of Mid was home to the most prestigious college for sorcery, as well as the Conclave, the governing body for all magic users in the seven kingdoms. My new talents put me at the top of every power-hungry mage’s most-wanted list. They wanted to kill me, or kidnap and use me, or keep me locked up for the rest of my life. I just wanted to get rid of the damned rock.
Since arriving on the island, I’d stepped hard on some faculty toes, assaulted the number-two mage on the island (he started it), single-handedly stormed the elven embassy, then topped it off with a walk on black magic’s wild side with a sexy goblin dark mage. It was a good way to make a bad first impression.
If that wasn’t enough, now I had to go shopping. I had one good set of leathers, and I was wearing them: trousers, above-the-knee boots, and my favorite doublet, all in formfitting, supple brown leather. I liked the doublet because it had steel links woven between the outer leather and inner lining. It also had leather sleeves to hide my weapons, a pair of knives in forearm sheaths I carried when I knew someone was going to jump me, but I just didn’t know when, which over the past few weeks had become the story of my life.
My leathers had taken a beating since I’d arrived on Mid, and as little as I liked it, I had to replace them, hence the need to shop.
“Have you considered something in scarlet leather?” Phaelan mused from beside me.
“Have you considered just painting a bull’s-eye on my back?” I retorted.
My cousin wasn’t with me because he liked shopping. He was by my side because being within five feet of me was a guarantee of getting into trouble of the worst kind. Phaelan hadn’t plundered or pillaged anything in weeks. He was bored. So this morning, he was a cocky, swaggering invitation for Trouble to bring it on and do her worst.
Phaelan ignored my irritation, and his grin flashed white against his tanned face. “Raine, everyone knows who you are, what you are, and where you are. It’s not like you’re trying to hide.”
“Ma’am, there are mages on this island who could kill you without even seeing you.”
That cheerful insight came from Vegard Rolfgar, Conclave Guardian, my bodyguard, and my personal shadow. He was big, blond, bearded, and human—classic Myloran sea-raider stock. The Guardians were sorcerers and warriors, and had the dubious honor of being peacekeepers on an island packed with mage bureaucrats, mage professors, and teenage mages in training—a volatile combination any way you looked at it.
“Yes, I’ve got a price on my head and every other body part,” I said. “Do either one of you have a point?”
Phaelan’s laugh was more like a bark. “Live fast, die young, and leave behind a damned fine-dressed corpse.”
My cousin favored scarlet, but today he was a vision in royal blue. His trousers were leather; his doublet was suede slashed to reveal the whitest of linen shirts. High leather boots matched his belt and baldric, all of black leather, and his dark hair was tied into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck. Phaelan’s favorite rapier swung comfortably at his side, with a brace of long daggers behind his back. There were plenty of other bladed weapons out of sight, but within quick reach. Our family didn’t like to be caught short.
I made a show of looking him over. “Much like yourself?”
Phaelan leveled those dark eyes on me. “Cousin, you can slink around this island in black or brown, or you can show the bastards that your balls are bigger than theirs. You’re the Saghred’s best friend; they’re scared shitless of you.”
The aforementioned bastards also wanted what I had—potentially unlimited power without the insanity and death side effects that typically went with Saghred exposure and use. But just because contact with the rock hadn’t turned me into a cackling loony or killed me yet didn’t mean that a padded room with level twelve wards wasn’t in my not-so-distant future.
I had to be careful; more than careful—vigilant. Of the Saghred, but mostly of myself. As long as I tapped its power, the rock didn’t give a damn what I did with it. Even though I had done only good things for the right reasons—like refusing to stand by and let innocent people be killed—using the Saghred’s power to prevent those deaths had probably brought me one step closer to crazy. Or not. Everyone else who had used the Saghred had quickly gone off the deep end. I hadn’t. And no on
e, including me, knew why.
I wasn’t sure which was more dangerous anymore, me or the rock.
“How do you think Dad and I control those mangy, homicidal maniacs we call our crews?” Phaelan was saying. “There’s always one or two that step out of line. We simply turn them into a well-publicized example, and the rest behave themselves.”
I just looked at him. “How about they’re just mangy, money-grubbing , homicidal maniacs who put up with your crap to get a cut of the gold a Benares ship brings in?”
Phaelan flashed a crooked grin. “There’s that, too.”
At least Phaelan knew who’d be planting daggers between his shoulder blades. I had no freaking clue. Don’t get me wrong; I knew the names and faces of most of the mages or bureaucrats who wanted me dead or snatched. But I also knew that they’d never dream of getting my blood on their lily-pure hands. They’d hire someone else to do it for them.
Generally the rich and powerful were tighter than a banker’s fist on their purse strings, but if they wanted something done badly enough, they’d be willing to cough up the coin. They also did their homework before they hired help to ensure they’d be getting their money’s worth. So chances were any assassin or kidnapper they sent after me would be pros who knew their business. Phaelan knew the cream of the crop by name and on sight. I knew a couple of them myself—some a little too well.
Phaelan had men staking out the docks who knew whom to look for, and runners who would bring news of any sightings to his flagship, the Fortune. So if a pro stepped off of a ship, boat, or dinghy, Phaelan and I would have his or her name within minutes, but that didn’t stop the space between my shoulder blades from itching.
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