Magic Below Paris Complete Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 8): Trading Into Shadow, Trading Into Darkness, Trading Close to Light, Trading By Firelight, Trading by Shroomlight, plus 3 more

by C. M. Simpson

  It made Marsh realize just how much danger they’d been in, given that everyone with magical talent would have been taken Below to whatever fate waited. That they were staying behind meant they might still be in danger.

  “Oh,” she said, realizing why Sulema might be upset.

  “Exactly!” Master Envermet snapped. “I do not have permission to commandeer the Grotto’s people!”

  “But we do,” Obasi told him. The youngster looked at Marsh. “He doesn’t understand. In the Grotto, we operate under a Council, but the people are the ones who have the final say. If enough of us feel something is the right path for us to tread, we can petition to act on it.”

  “Yes!” Master Envermet interrupted, frustration making his voice brittle, “but you aren’t petitioning. You’re skipping that step entirely!”

  Obasi smiled. “Yes, we are. We are making a decision for which we are responsible, and Sulema will understand. If we have done the wrong thing, she will let us know.”

  “And me,” Master Envermet told him. “She will leave me in no doubt as to how she feels. You are jeopardizing the entire alliance!”

  Ah, now Marsh understood what the problem was, but Obasi had an argument for that, too.

  “If you refuse us,” he told the shadow captain, “you’ll be contravening a decision made by Grotto inhabitants as a unit, and that is something Sulema will not forgive. Your alliance would be in jeopardy either way.”

  “Agh!” Master Envermet buried his face in his hands and rubbed his cheeks before glaring at the young man. “Very well!”

  Obasi smiled and slapped a palm against the upraised palm of the older woman standing beside him. She looked at Master Envermet.

  “So, it is agreed, then?” she asked. “Half the captives from Ariella’s Grotto will remain here, and half will travel with you as protection.”

  Master Envermet’s “Yes!” came out in strangled tones, and both warriors smiled.

  “And us,” Xavier told him. “We are going with you to protect those of our people who wish to find new opportunities elsewhere, but some of us are remaining to protect the rest. The families of those who wish to make this their home are remaining also. There’s still a little time for crops before winter.”

  “And the Grotto’s druids will help them,” the woman added, catching Xavier’s eye and giving him a reassuring smile. “There will be food for the winter.”

  She looked at Marsh. “If we must pause the hunt while we get our people to safety, then we will at least make sure our hunters’ people are kept safe for their return.”

  It was a promise, and Marsh felt a piece of herself unknot. The children might not be speaking to her, but her time away would give them time to adjust. And when she returned...

  Master Envermet caught her thought. Exactly.

  More people trickled in, and the discussions ran far into the night. It was late when Marsh and Roeglin left, taking to the wall for a breath of fresh air.

  When they reached the top of the wall above the gate, they surveyed the trail leading to the sinkhole, then scanned the countryside around it. They stood leaning into each other in silence as the shadows waxed and waned below them.

  “I don’t want to go,” Marsh murmured, and Roeglin’s mouth twitched.

  “I don’t want you to go either.”

  They leaned on each other, staring into the night. Somewhere below them, Mordan was hunting. Finally, Marsh turned toward him.

  “You’d better be here when I get back.”

  Roeglin looked into her eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

  She scowled, remembering some of the scenes from the cells below the Library. “I’m serious. Don’t make me come looking for you.”

  He regarded her with a serious gaze, his eyes saying he remembered what they’d seen. The idea of him not being there when she returned chilled them both.

  “If that happens, promise you’ll find me if I’m gone.”

  Marsh buried her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him.

  “Always.”

  There were still questions left unanswered—and mysteries to be solved—but there was no more time. What was left would have to wait until she returned. Marsh tightened her arms around Roeglin’s waist and lifted her face to his.

  As their lips touched, heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs below and they sighed, drawing slightly apart.

  Henri... Roeglin told her and Marsh reached up, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him long and hard in defiance.

  Author Notes - CM Simpson

  September 18, 2019

  Well, it’s out later than I’d planned, and much later than you expected, so I really appreciate you being here and am grateful and amazed that you’ve read this far.

  These last two months have been a bit of a rollercoaster, but finally smoothed out over the last fortnight. So much has happened that much of that time is now a jumbled blur. I’ve had the flu—twice!—, and mum tripped over her new dog and broke her femur, dad got run into while visiting her in hospital and there was something else, but I can’t remember it—which is probably a good thing...

  My head is still spinning, but things are a lot better, now.

  As I write this, I’ve just finished the final chapter of this book and turned it in to the editor...who was nice enough to not come after me with a big stick for being four days over the most recent deadline I told her, which was over a month later than I wanted to finish...which is why, as soon as I finish writing these notes and seeing how the cover’s coming along, I’ll be starting Book 7, the second-last book in this series.

  I’m still having trouble grasping it.

  This year has flowed by like quicksilver and, as Halloween approaches, I wonder where on Earth it’s gone to—and how it’s managed to pack so much in, in such a short span of time. If I can catch up with it, I’ll ask it.

  In the meantime, I’ll start work on the next book in this series so you don’t have so long to wait.

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  October 30, 2019

  Thank you for reading our stories and coming all the way to the back of the book to touch base with us as authors.

  I’m presently writing these Author Notes at Ping Pang Pong (Gold Coast Hotel / Casino) in Las Vegas, NV. One of LMBPN’s favorite Chinese food restaurants, and AGAIN awarded best in Las Vegas for both Dim Sum and Chinese food (affectionally named “the Ponger” by Craig Martelle.)

  I’m already salivating for the Beef Fried Rice (no vegetables, extra egg, meat diced up smaller) and the Orange Chicken. I doubt I’m going to make it out of here without waddling.

  BUT IT WILL BE SO GOOD!

  Now that I have YOU hungry (and if you aren’t, then think about barbeque and Jessie Rae’s.)

  Colleen is one of those rare birds in life that you meet, and you wonder why come life takes her out at the knees so often? She’s fun, funny, hardworking, and kind to her family, and yet you hear her stories and think, WTF, Life?

  When they say life isn’t fair, Colleen is an example. Yet, she rarely is negative, always too apologetic when describing her predicament (it’s not her fault) and comes back like a ten-ton Mack truck to accomplish the damn-near impossible.

  (Editor’s note: I totally concur. Colleen is amazing, and more crap happens to her than anyone I know. I hereby use my next star wish to wish it’s easier for her from now on! PS…she tells GREAT stories! )

  I’m in awe, and I’m proud to be associated with her as a person, and with these stories she has brought to life! (Editor’s note: Ditto)

  Till next time,

  Michael

  Trading By Stormlight

  The Magic Below Paris™ Book Seven

  1

  Investigating an Assassin

  Roeglin woke Marsh with a none-too-gentle shake. “We forgot the assassin!”

  “What?”

  “The assassin. We forgot the assassin.”

  Marsh rubbed her eyes and sat up. “But,
Ro. We killed the assassin.”

  “All three of them,” Henri added, lifting his head, “or did you forget?”

  “It was four,” Marsh snapped grumpily, “and, no, I didn’t.”

  “It was only four if you count Idris,” Izmay corrected, coming to Henri’s defense. “There have been three since we left Dimanche.”

  Marsh opened her mouth to argue but closed it again. Izmay was right. “Ines only said multiples,” she reminded them. “How many people have more than three or four?”

  Izmay shrugged. “Roeglin has a point, though.”

  She shoved back the blankets and slapped Henri on the rump. “Get your hairy ass out of the way.”

  Brigitte groaned on the other side of the room. “Too much information. Way too much!”

  “Quit your bitches and grab your britches,” Izmay told her. “We need to see if Master Envermet can spare us the time to check out the Idris family cottage.”

  Her question was answered from the doorway. “Master Envermet most certainly can not.”

  They all turned and looked at him. He raised an eyebrow and continued, “However, I can spare Marsh and Izmay if Roeglin and Brigitte go with them, while Henri, Jakob, and the rest of you help me get the resettlers on the road. We’ll eat as we move.”

  Marsh rolled out of bed, grabbing her clothes as she went. “Deal,” she told him as she slid into her trousers and pulled on a second shirt.

  Her armor came next, then her weaponry, and she turned to put her sleeping roll in her pack. Roeglin stepped back, trying to get out of her way, but he was half in and half out of his pants and tripped. If Henri hadn’t been in the way, he might have hit the floor hard, but he didn’t.

  Henri sidestepped, grabbing Roeglin’s arm and slowing his descent. “Not sure you should touch a sword this early in the morning.”

  Roeglin untangled himself, got his trousers fastened, and stood up. “Not sure I care what you think this early in the morning.”

  Henri reached over and pulled Izmay close, kissing her soundly before getting dressed.

  “You’re all talk and no walk.” She laughed and slapped her palm against his chest.

  “And you’re all work and no play.”

  “But you love me, anyway,” Izmay finished for him, settling her weapons over her hips and grabbing her pack.

  By the time she and Marsh had their sleeping rolls stowed and their bags cinched tight, Roeglin and Brigitte were almost ready.

  “Do you remember where it is?”

  “No, but Mordan says the wolves know, and Bristlebear is waiting.”

  Bristlebear was waiting. He and two of his seconds emerged from the side of the road to greet them with a casual glance and waving tails. The wolves took them to where a high stone wall and deep spike-filled trench surrounded a well-tended garden.

  The gates were barred and locked, but Izmay made short work of the lock and chain using a stout rod summoned from the daylight around them.

  “It still looks like shadow to me,” she told them, touching the gauze strip covering her eyes.

  Marsh wondered what it would be like to need something to dim the light of the sun, but she didn’t ask.

  I can show you if you like, Roeglin offered, and she shook her head.

  Show me how to get inside instead, she told him, and he followed one of the wolves to a loose stone in the garden border and withdrew a key.

  “I didn’t know you could read an animal’s mind, too,” Izmay commented, and he smiled.

  “I only have to read Mordan through Marsh’s mind,” he admitted, and Marsh scowled.

  “That’s cheating!”

  His smile grew wider. “Is not. Is rude!”

  Marsh laughed, then realized she might not get to say goodbye to the children.

  Roeglin’s smile faded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

  Marsh shook her head. “It’s not you. It’s me. I should have remembered to ask. Master Envermet can’t be expected to think of everything.”

  They were silent for a moment, then Roeglin fitted the key to the front door and unlocked it. “I’ll see what I can do,” he offered, but Marsh shook her head again and walked quickly inside.

  “I don’t think they’re talking to us anyway,” she said, “and I don’t want to hold up the convoy.”

  “It’s always something,” Brigitte grumbled, unwittingly echoing one of Tamlin’s favorite arguments against Marsh.

  She realized and caught her breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

  Marsh gave a short bark of laughter. “But it is, isn’t it?” she asked, adding, “Tamlin’s right.”

  The cottage was more a small two-storied house. There was a living room, bedroom, kitchen, office, and bathroom on the bottom floor, and four more bedrooms on the top level. Each room was empty but had been kept as though its occupant might return at any time.

  Three of them held austere single beds. The fourth held a bunk bed, for which the bottom bed was slightly wider than the top. In each of the single-bed rooms, a solitary black sash had been laid across the pillow, and in the room with the bunks, the pillow on the top bunk had a sash. Both pillows on the bottom bunk were sash free.

  They searched the desks and bookcases for any indication of how many siblings there had been, and whether or not they’d all been boys.

  “I’m going to have to send someone out to take a closer look,” Roeglin concluded when they’d returned to the bedroom downstairs. “It looks like there were at least six of them, and maybe a spouse, but I can’t be sure. We don’t have time to search everything.”

  “Someone was here, though,” Izmay noted. “There are clothes missing from the wardrobe in that bunk room upstairs, and there’s more missing from down here.”

  Looking into the wardrobe, they saw she was right. Several hangers were empty, and a darker patch on the cupboard floor showed where a bag had stood.

  “I’ll know more when I’ve looked out in the stable,” Roeglin said and then froze, his eyes staring through the wall as though it wasn’t there.

  Marsh watched his eyes turn white and sighed. “Let me guess. It’s time to go.”

  “Almost...”

  Brigitte left. “Office,” she explained, and Izmay hurried to keep up.

  Left alone, Marsh looked at Roeglin. He was watching her, a solemn sadness marring his face. She lifted her chin. “Gotta get it done,” she told him.

  He nodded. “I know, but I don’t have to like it.”

  Marsh grinned but couldn’t think of anything to say, so she turned to the small desk beneath the window, her grin fading. Roeglin came to stand beside her, watching as she used a slender blade of shadow to open the drawer.

  “Where did you learn that?”

  “Seekers sometimes have to get into places the Ancients left secured.”

  “Have to?” Roeglin didn’t sound convinced.

  Marsh flashed him a quick smile. “That’s where they say the best old stuff is found.”

  “Like what?”

  The question caught her by surprise. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t really have an answer. “I, uh... They didn’t tell me.”

  Roeglin didn’t have an answer for that, so he tapped the drawer. “So, what did you find?”

  Marsh wiggled the drawer open, holding her breath.

  “Nothing,” she told him, her shoulders sagging when she saw the emptiness within.

  “But we did.” Brigitte had returned, and she was carrying a leather-bound book.

  Marsh and Roeglin crowded around as she opened it.

  “See?”

  Marsh’s heart sank. The inked portraits inside the book gave her the bad news. “There might be another two?”

  Brigitte tried to comfort her. “It could only be one.”

  “Yeah, or it could be three,” Izmay added, tapping another picture with her forefinger.

  “That poor woman,” Brigitte commented. “Imagine having two lots of multiples.

&n
bsp; “I don’t know. Some people would call that lucky,” Roeglin suggested.

  The three women glared at him.

  “Only if they didn’t have to carry them,” Izmay snapped back.

  “Or give birth to them,” Brigitte added.

  Marsh said nothing but continued to look at the book. “They grew up somewhere else,” she said, noting the ruins in the background.

  An old castle that looked mostly restored rose above a sturdy stone house built among the remains of another building. Other houses stood on either side of the family home, their windows devoid of life, while a garden flourished in scant detail around the subjects.

  “At least we have some idea of what we’re facing,” Roeglin told them.

  “But we still don’t know why this one left,” Marsh protested.

  “Or why he left without trying to kill you first,” Izmay added.

  Marsh gave her a sour look. “Thanks, Iz.”

  The shadow guard smiled. “All part of the service.”

  “Speaking of which,” Roeglin interrupted, “Master Envermet says it’s time.”

  Izmay handed him the portrait book. “You’d better keep this. Chances are they’ll come back, and you’ll need to know what you’re looking for.”

  He accepted the book and headed out the door. “Master Envermet’s waiting.”

  Brigitte and Izmay followed him, but Marsh hesitated. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave him and the children behind. She—

  I need you. Master Envermet’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and Marsh sighed.

  I’m coming.

  2

  Last-Minute Additions

  It didn’t take Marsh long to catch up to the others, and they jogged the short distance to the outpost gates. The caravan was already assembled, the sheer size of it making Marsh wonder exactly how many people were left for Roeglin to protect.