Hanwel’s eyes glinted. “Yes…yes, of course, but you do know that I’m a collector of…special artifacts. I only sell medicines and remedies.”
“I was hoping you could make an exception. In my experience, almost anything can be bought for the right price.”
Instead of taking offense or raising an objection, he stood and offered her his hand in the customary fashion of business partners. “Indeed, my dear.” He lightly shook her hand. “May I ask what object in particular you are interested in viewing?”
She had already decided how she would answer. “A powerful scroll that will curse one’s enemies. Eliathe said you had such a thing.”
“I don’t know how experienced you are young lady, but a curse scroll is no mere toy. I hope you understand that?”
Augustina nodded. “I also understand that you wish to have no connection to it if I am caught or if it falls into the wrong hands.”
“That’s if I decide to sell it to you.” He bent down to unlock and open one of the desk’s compartments.
“Name your price old man,” Augustina said with an edge of irritation. “I have plenty gold.” She loosened a medium-sized pouch from her belt and tossed it onto the desk.
Hanwel ignored the enticing clink the bag of coins made as it hit the surface. Closing and locking the compartment he had opened, he stood and presented a necklace with what appeared to be a small crystal pendant attached. When Augustina recognized what it was, she cursed under her breath and took a step back.
“Now miss,” Hanwel said in a smooth voice, “just how badly do you want that scroll?”
“Are you saying you don’t want the gold?” Her eyes widened in disgust at the necklace.
“I thought you were the one who said everything could be bought at the right price. And this,” —he dangled the necklace—“is the right price.”
She now realized he was more dangerous than Eliathe.
He would have to die.
The necklace that seemed normal to the ignorant eye was in fact a submission charm. Augustina had seen several slaves in Boathe wearing them. A mage would activate the charm through incantations and dipping the crystal pendant in the intended person’s blood. It would magically bind that person. Any command must be obeyed and any request fulfilled. If the master of the pendant wished, he could end the bound person’s life in a variety of ways. If this old fool thought she was going to let him bind her with a submission charm, he was clearly out of his mind.
“What would be the purpose of letting you bind me?” She eyed him warily.
“Oh, don’t worry that I won’t give you the scroll,” he said, walking around the desk and approaching Augustina. “And I won’t even keep you here. All you have to do is come when I call you.”
“And what would you call me for?” She raised an eyebrow. His wolfish grin, however, said it all.
She almost wanted to burst out laughing and engulf the lecherous man in flames. But she didn’t want to do anything to him until she saw his inventory. “You…you can’t possibly think I am the type of woman to just…” she began in a mock-tone of offense.
Chuckling, Hanwel clasped the necklace in one hand while caressing Augustina’s arm with the other. “Let’s not pretend to be innocent and coy. I doubt someone seeking a curse scroll is a person of high moral character, and besides…if you don’t accept this, I won’t give you your precious scroll.”
“I’ll tell the magistrate about you. I’ll expose you as a dark mage.”
“Go ahead and try. Once you leave my shop, you’ll forget we ever had this conversation. Are you a mage too?”
If he had wards and spells around the shop’s front door, where else could he have laid spells? And what kind of safeguards did he have against other mages? In any case, it would be best not to deny who she was.
“I know some things about the ways of magic, and I practice whenever I can. I feel that I’m able to handle a simple spell scroll.”
Hanwel’s eyes brightened. “Ah, then you do want the curse scroll?”
She took a step back when he edged closer. “Y-yes, but I still don’t trust you. Let me see…no, let me hold the scroll first, and then I will do as you say.”
He stared at her for a few moments before finally acquiescing. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let you take a look.”
She wanted to protest when he motioned toward the staircase; the last place she wanted him to be was behind her, but she had little choice. He was probably just as suspicious of her as she was of him, despite his advantage. But didn’t she have one of her own? He obviously thought her somewhat weak if she had come to him seeking the aid of a scroll when many capable mages could perform curses on their own.
She marched upstairs with Hanwel behind her, pace steady and left hand clinging to the smooth rail. When she reached the large upper-room, she paused and took in the rather impressive scene. Enchanted swords were mounted along the walls, some of them probably relics from the Ancient Age. Augustina could sense spells of fire, poison, ice, and thunder emanating from the mounted swords. The shiny gleam of the weapons indicated they were meticulously cared for.
Several ornate chests sat in rows along the floor, flaunting large keyholes. In the center of the room stood a pedestal where a fist-sized jewel rested. It swirled with colors. Augustina had the urge to rush over to the jewel and snatch it, but she thought better of it. She was not sure what particular enchantment the precious stone had, but it would be well worth stealing once she had obtained what she came for.
“This is a wonderful collection, Hanwel.”
There was a proud gleam in his eye as he pulled a key ring from his belt. “Exactly. Now do you see why I guard my goods so jealously? And why I refuse to sell?”
She nodded, still eyeing the jewel in the center display. “All your years, you’ve collected such things, and no one’s ever seen this?”
“Do you mean those who would turn me in if they ever saw this? Ha! When a non-mage comes up here, all he sees is a dusty old room with some strongboxes sitting on the floor. And, as of yet, I’ve never had a mage in this shop who wasn’t a dark mage.”
“I’ve known people who’ve collected magical artifacts for pleasure,” she said, tracing the intricate pattern of one of the chests with her forefinger. “But this goes beyond a mere hobby. You keep these treasures as if you’re saving them for someone…or something.”
The keys on the key ring he held clanked as he unlocked one of the chests. “You might say that,” he mumbled.
She wondered if he was keeping the artifacts for the dark mage who would take the Rhinlandian throne by force—the same mage she and Mylen were sent to aid. If this was the case, then the old man could not be so easily killed and disposed of. This made retrieving the map even more difficult, assuming it was even hidden in this shop.
For a second she thought of identifying herself and asking Hanwel to give her the map, but she doubted he would cooperate, even if he did believe who she was. Perhaps the trick was to instead use the influence of the Lady she served. If he pledged loyalty to a Deh’anin Lord, then wouldn’t he do anything at the request of a Lady Deh’anin?
“Old man, I will be truthful with you. I am not here for a curse scroll.”
With raised eyebrow, he asked, “Oh? Then what are you here for, Augustina d’Hura?”
Her heart skipped a beat when he mentioned her name.
“What did you say?”
“I recognize you, though you’ve changed your appearance somewhat. There’s a handsome reward for your capture, you know.”
“Then that is why you wanted me under the control of your obedience charm? So you could hand me over for gold? You treacherous coward.”
“Treacherous? Didn’t you kill your own husband?” He chuckled when he saw her grow more incensed.
“Do you think I’m a fool to return to this country if not for something as important as my life? More than my life? If you tell anyone about me, the Lady I serve will see
to it that you suffer worse than a thousand deaths.” When the expression on his face told her he was unimpressed, she added, “Like you, I serve those with the Mark of Power.”
“You lie,” he shot back. “I know of only a few others in this country who are true servants, and you are not one of them.”
“I wasn’t until recently, I assure you. But how else would I know about them? Or that the mage for whom you’re keeping these treasures is at this moment poised to strike down King Evien and take the country?”
When Augustina saw his blank expression, she imagined that at any moment he would invoke the protection of the spells laid around the shop and consume her where she stood.
Instead, he opened his mouth to speak. “Why did you come here under false pretenses?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She motioned toward his pocket that concealed the obedience charm. “I didn’t know who you were or if I could trust you, and I only now guessed what this was all for.”
“Then what are you seeking, Lady d’Hura?”
“A map,” she said hesitantly, “that will lead me to an important artifact.”
“If the Lord Deh’anin needed it, he would have sent for it.”
“I speak for the Lady Deh’anin. She wishes me to retrieve the Bla— the special item, because she is the one who is returning to Boathe to rebuild Temple Dehawk.”
Hanwel studied her for a moment. “That does make sense…it would belong in the Temple, not here in Rhinland where the shamans can get their hands on it.”
A surge of triumph rose in Augustina’s chest at these words. “If you have the map, or anything that will help me find it, then give it to me. My Lady expects me back soon, and she is not one to cross.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” he said. “I was never told to hand the map to anyone.”
“But you were never told not to deny it to anyone who had good reason to obtain it,” she argued.
“Well,” he sighed, “I suppose one Deh’anin is as good as the other. But as a sign of good faith, let me bind you with the charm, and if in ten days I hear nothing from you, I will use it on you. If I receive confirmation that you have achieved your goal on the Lady’s behalf, I will destroy the charm.”
She frowned. “How do I know I can trust you? What protection do I have?”
“You have the protection of your Lady, and I don’t give a damn if you trust me or not. This is my shop, and it’s my map that you want. If you think you can find a copy anywhere else—and believe me, you won’t—then I’ll bid you good day. Otherwise, open up that pretty hand of yours.”
Augustina bit back a curse and stretched out her hand, turning her palm upward. Hanwel wasted no time in pulling the obedience charm from his pocket and carving a small cut into her palm with the sharp edge of the crystal as he recited an incantation. A flash of light shot through the charm as the crystal took on its blood-red hue, indicating that the binding was completed. Augustina quickly withdrew her hand and shuddered, feeling queasy and apprehensive.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” Hanwel grinned. “I’ll keep my word. You have ten days to find it.”
“Just give me the map!” she growled.
The old man pulled the key ring from the keyhole of the scroll chest and went over to another chest and unlocked it. He rummaged through its contents until he found a rolled parchment, darkened with age. Carefully unrolling the parchment, Hanwel gazed up at Augustina with another one of his annoying grins.
“The map, Lady d’Hura, to the whereabouts of the Black Rod. I presume it is the Black Rod you’re searching for?”
“Yes,” she breathed anxiously.
“Then I wish you good hunting.”
She hadn’t felt such a thrill of anticipation since she was a girl and had first learned to control her powers. Now she was on the verge of obtaining one of the greatest conduits of magic that had been hidden for 2,000 years. If Hanwel thought he was going to have the satisfaction of using the obedience charm on her, then he was a fool.
“Thank you,” she told him with a smile. “And don’t worry, you will have your confirmation within ten days.” She approached him and firmly took the map from his grasp.
She carefully folded the parchment and headed for the stairs but paused when Hanwel called out to her with a warning. “Lady d’Hura, if you should find the Rod, do not try to wield it yourself.”
“Why?” she turned to face him.
“If you heed my warning, then you won’t have to know why.”
As soon as Augustina set foot into the tiny house, she went to the kitchen, lit the fire in the small brick oven, and began preparing tea. She readied her ingredients and quickly poured water into the kettle. She nearly dropped the kettle with a startled reaction when Mylen’s silky voice greeted her.
“Do you grow less fearful of being captured?”
Augustina blinked and looked askance. “My Lady, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I’ve noticed that each day you have gone out on errands that you’d return later than the previous day. I’m curious as to why.”
Mylen seemed calm and collected, and her tone implied neither suspicion nor accusation. But was it time to tell her? Would her mistress allow her to continue this quest if it interfered with their greater mission? Augustina had learned early on that when the truth wasn’t readily available, that a half-truth always was.
“I’ve been visiting apothecaries. I was once told that those with the blackbird engravings would welcome mages like me.”
Mylen’s dark eyes pierced her like a knife. It made Augustina recant her decision to explain only part of the truth until she saw her mistress shake her head.
“I must say I am disappointed in the so-called Dark Lords who’ve trained you. You don’t need to visit any of those places, Augustina. If there is something you wish to learn, if there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”
Augustina curtsied and murmured a “Yes, Mistress,” before rushing over to finish prepping the tea. It dawned on her that Mylen might have felt contempt for the petty shopkeepers who claimed to possess arcane magic and magical remedies. Mylen was a Deh’anin, a priestess of Temple Dehawk. Through her and the other Deh’anin would come the power and knowledge of the Dark, and any attempt to exploit or peddle it was no less than blasphemy in Mylen’s eyes.
“Mistress, I was thinking,” Augustina began as she bustled about the kitchen, “when will this dark mage act against the king?”
“Soon. In fact, I must meet with one of his servants within the hour, someone from d’Eveka Palace, to finalize some plans.”
Augustina poured a cup of steaming tea from the kettle. “That is good news. How may I help?”
“I may need you to go north to the Oralendy territory to meet with—”
“The Wild Ones?” Augustina finished her sentence as she handed Mylen the cup of tea on a saucer.
“They have no desire to keep peace with Evien d’Eveka, and the clan lord Nahalo is a mage who’s sympathetic to our cause.”
“Ah, I see.” Augustina joined her at the small kitchen table. “You will use the northern people as a distraction if not a weapon against the king’s army and storm the palace yourselves when ready. When the Wild Ones have outlived their use, you will dispose of them.”
Mylen took a sip of tea and cleared her throat. “Why would I dishonor the pact I made with them and turn on them? I will be true to my word if they do the same.”
The corner of Augustina’s mouth twitched slightly. It took a tremendous effort not to double over in laughter. She wondered how Mylen could have ever survived all these years without securing her own interests first and cutting loose any unwanted baggage.
“Just think, Augustina,” she continued with an animated look, “the northern people will be the first of many nations to pledge fealty to Dehawk and support the rebirth of the Great Lord’s Temple in Boathe. They will send their sons and daughters as acolytes to the Temple, and they will
be blessed.”
“Forgive me, Mistress,” Augustina said, still incredulous. “Sometimes I still don’t understand your ways.”
“In time, you will come to believe as I believe. Soon, the Dark Council will take its place beneath the feet of the true Clerics, and you will be a Deh’anin. This is why I chose you, Augustina—we are the Great Return.”
“Yes Mistress Mylen,” she said. “I believe you when you say Temple Dehawk will rise from its ruins.” And Augustina intended to rise along with it, and take her seat of power.
With dark magic on the horizon, what will happen next? Grab your copy of the next book of this anthology, Forgotten Magic, to see what happens!
About the Author
Alesha Escobar writes fantasy to support her chocolate habit. She enjoys reading everything from Tolkien and the Dresden Files, to the Hellblazer comics and classic literature. She’s the author of the bestselling Gray Tower Trilogy, an action-packed supernatural thriller set in an alternate World War II. The trilogy hit the bestsellers lists at Amazon (Top 60 in the entire Kindle store), as well as iBooks, Kobo, Barnes & Noble online, and Amazon UK. Alesha is also the co-author of the bestselling Aria Knight Chronicles and the Immortal Brotherhood series.
Besides being a loving warrior mom to her six children, she enjoys crafts, consuming more coffee than is necessary, and spending time with her husband, Luis, a 20-year art veteran for The Simpsons™ television show.
For more information about the author, please visit: https://www.aleshaescobar.com
Don't forget to grab your copy of sequel in Forgotten Magic, My Book.
Parallel Princess
Return to the Fae
C. K. Rieke
Princess Fallon was forced to escape for ten long years to the land of the Fae for her own safety. But once she finally got back home… it wasn’t exactly the happily ever after ending she expected— she’d returned to the real world to find she’d grown small white horns on the top of her head.
Wayward Magic Page 26
