Spell Street Swing: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Scions of Magic Book 5)

by TR Cameron

  Her robes of state were another indication that the leader of the Atlantean gang in New Orleans had transgressed. She wore the scarlet undergarment that reached her chin and required her to lean forward to look down. It gave her a haughty and dismissive demeanor that was exacerbated by the deep-blue top layer, which was dark and foreboding and long enough to trail behind her when she walked. They were the kind of impractical items that communicated one’s ability to have others take action on their behalf.

  The report of the failed assault on Caliste Leblanc’s friend was bad. Discovering that the child’s only known relative had also been attacked was worse. And the fact that the matriarch of House Leblanc had won another ritual battle while voluntarily outnumbered rose to the level of insult.

  Doubtless as the little witch intended.

  Usha had accepted full responsibility for the actions of her subordinates in each of the matters, but the Empress knew one could only work with what one had. It was the ultimate limitation on power, the need to rely on others. She had researchers working on that problem from multiple angles but so far had not found a viable solution.

  She kept her face impassive and decided that the woman needed to pass a few more minutes in silent submission to ensure the weight of her disapproval was properly communicated. Her seneschal was nearby, as always, and she flicked her gaze to the left to meet Gwyn’s. She activated the telepathic connection between them and sent, “She seems truly regretful.”

  The other woman’s head dipped in a slight nod before she schooled herself into immobility while she responded in thought. “Indeed, Empress. Usha has never given any indication that she feels anything other than complete love and dedication toward you. The failures of those she leads are unfortunate, as was the failure of the enforcer you sent.”

  “The child is proving to be more of a challenge than expected.”

  Gwyn’s pale lips twisted in a hint of a smile. “The same could be said of House Leblanc for its entire history.”

  “True enough.” She let the channel between them fall away. After several more minutes, she said aloud, “Usha, rise.” The woman flowed smoothly to her feet and showed no sign of discomfort.

  She could have two broken legs and would display nothing. Her subordinate’s strength of will set her apart from most of the other individuals in her life and earned her privileges and opportunities that others would never receive. Including second chances.

  Still, this rebuke needed to be formal. “You are my trusted lieutenant, but these reports of ongoing failure by your people are troublesome. Henceforth, do not be reluctant to request what you need from Gwyn. Pride is of no value in the battle for the soul of New Atlantis. While Caliste Leblanc may be a problem that cannot be solved on the surface, you must succeed in all the other tasks you have been given. And, of course, continue to press the girl to join us or attempt to remove her from the equation.”

  Her subordinate’s voice brimmed with the knowledge of her failure. “Yes, Empress. It will be done.”

  “See that it is. You are dismissed from our presence.” Her seneschal swept forward to escort the woman from the throne room. When it was only Shenni and her guards, she rose and descended the stairs slowly, deep in thought. By the time she reached the bottom, she had a new plan. She addressed the guard on her right. “Send word for my seneschal to attend me in the office in an hour.” The man nodded, and both enforcers escorted her to her chambers, which were guarded by yet another two. A servant stood nearby, and the Empress ordered, “Draw a bath. I need to wash the stress of this day away.”

  Gwyn awaited her in the office and stood with her back to the main door when Shenni entered through the hidden one at the rear of the room. She sat behind the desk and gestured for her subordinate to sit in the chair across from her. With a small smile, she asked, “How did Usha take it?”

  The other woman answered the smile with her own. “Very well, Empress. She has requested support in several areas and seems fully committed to accomplishing the tasks you have given her.”

  “Good. Everyone needs a little reinforcement now and again. These short-term failures may turn out to be to our long-term benefit.” Her seneschal didn’t reply, and she considered her idea once more before she shared it.

  It’s a good plan. Chaos to my enemies.

  “I think we need to start putting pressure on Matriarch Leblanc from this side of the water. Please arrange for Patriarch Wymarc to see me.”

  The other woman grinned. “The most beautiful man in the Nine? It would be my decided pleasure, Empress.”

  She nodded. “And hopefully, young Caliste’s, as well.”

  The arrangements had been made for her guest to join her for dinner, a privilege reserved for very, very few. She tried to separate her life, with dinner as the demarcation point where the public Empress became the private Shenni.

  But some needs require sacrifices. When he entered, she couldn’t help but smile. And some sacrifices really aren’t that great a burden, after all.

  He had olive skin and lush hair that fell to his shoulders in soft waves. She’d heard servants describe his cheekbones as sharp enough to slice a heart open and couldn’t argue with the assessment. Everything else in his face was in perfect alignment, and the body revealed by the tight trousers and perfectly tailored shirt he wore was undeniably powerful. In his early twenties, he was younger than her by a decade and a half or so and still retained a palpable sense of self-appreciation.

  The product of a sheltered upbringing, to be sure, but he certainly is a pretty ornament.

  His strength was visible in the way he moved as Wymarc Jehenel crossed the room and knelt beside where she sat at the head of the table. She nodded in acknowledgment. “Sit. We have matters to discuss.” She gestured to the chair on her left at the small rectangular table in the private dining room. At most, the space would accommodate five as it was unseemly for someone to dine at the opposite end facing her. Tonight, it was set for two with an expensive turquoise tablecloth, fine china plates with a golden filigree—discovered in a shipwreck—and matching golden silverware. No knives were present and all food would arrive pre-cut. An empath, one of the rarer magical specialties, was behind the wall to her right, along with her most proficient spellcaster and two guards with mounted crossbows. At any sign of aggression, they would eliminate the man.

  The first course, a variety of seafood in a thin savory broth, arrived in the hands of her seneschal, who doubled as a server for these events. Her food tasters would have tried it before it was allowed into the room with her, and it would have been examined for hostile magic as well. Her layers of security were mostly invisible but undeniably necessary.

  Wymarc ventured small talk and she listened politely, but she had little real interest in his life beyond the formative details. His parents had died young, leaving the most direct family line with no other progeny to take the role. He had spent his childhood and teens in the care of more distant members of the house, who had unexpectedly failed to eliminate him, and had taken the title of patriarch when he turned nineteen. In the three years since, he had done nothing of note beyond maintaining his impressively good looks.

  Shenni let him lead the conversation through the soup and the vegetable course that followed it, then took control as the main dish, lobster and crab exquisitely grilled and flavored, arrived. It was one of her favorites and always her go-to recipe when she was seeking something from a guest. The spices used were from the surface and unavailable anywhere in New Atlantis other than the palace. “So, Wymarc, how fares House Jehenel?”

  “Excellently, Empress. The plans my parents put into place before their deaths have served us well and I have seen no reason to change them.”

  “And the future of your line?”

  He smiled, an edge of flirtation in the tilt of his lips. “To be determined, Empress. I have not yet found the right partner.” His voice betrayed him and she could hear the desire in it. Inwardly, she laughed. Outwardly, sh
e nodded seriously.

  “Your misfortune thus far in that area might work toward our mutual benefit, however.” She paused long enough for him to get his hopes up, then continued. “How did you find our newest matriarch?”

  He was too polished to let his disappointment show and covered it by taking a bite of his food and chewing thoughtfully. With meticulous manners, he dabbed his lips with a linen napkin and replied, “Young. Headstrong, certainly. Unpolished. But there is no mistaking that she is a Leblanc.” He said it with a hint of derision and she laughed.

  “So, she’s been the subject of conversation among the Nine, then? That is interesting—and, of course, appropriate. She is a new variable, to be sure.” He wasn’t old enough to have formed an opinion about the Leblancs before they’d left New Atlantis, which meant someone had told him of their history. Alliances are already forming against her, then, or at least with an eye toward using her. “Do you have a sense of her loyalties?”

  “No, Empress. None. Her time in the city was too short to gain any useful information about her.”

  Shenni nodded. “How would you go about doing so?” She put a hint of intrigue in her words, and he leaned forward involuntarily in response.

  “The oldest ways are the best ways, Empress. I would be a friend, an ally, and eventually, a lover. Her secrets would be open to me in no time.” His entendre was clumsy but apt.

  “Indeed.” She smiled. “That seems like a good plan. And were you to learn things, who would you share them with? The other houses?”

  “Only if you wished it. Otherwise, only you.”

  She chuckled. “So dutiful, so appropriate.” She shook her head. “Now really, which other houses are allied with yours? I must know where the knowledge will flow if I am to help you gain it.”

  To his credit, he didn’t look abashed at her words. He has some steel in his spine, then.

  “I am most closely aligned with houses Terriau, Oubre, and of course Rivette, Empress, all of whom support you unreservedly, as do I.”

  “Excellent.” Partial truth. While my own former house naturally supports me, Oubre is slightly less committed and Terriau is filled with opportunists. Exactly like House Jehenel.

  When they finished their meal, she signaled for dessert and tea. She tasted the decadently light vanilla cake and pronounced it delicious, and her guest seconded the opinion, as he would, of course. “Let us enter into an accord. I shall provide you with an excuse to spend time with young Caliste. You will do whatever you can to discover her secrets and report them to me before you share them with your allies. The decision of what stays between us and what may go further rests with me.”

  He nodded. “I am willing to accept that bargain, Empress, the moment I know how my house and I will be rewarded for it.”

  She laughed out loud. “Oh, you are bold—very bold, Wymarc. But not entirely unreasonable. How about this? When you do finally select a mate to bear your children, the palace will match whatever dowry is paid by the family.” It was a classic Atlantean suggestion as it included an edge of competition and challenge. Would he choose the best partner or the one who would bring him the greatest treasure? Or somehow find someone who accomplished both? It would be enjoyable to watch it play out.

  He matched her laughter. “That is quite appropriate, Empress. On behalf of House Jehenel, I accept.”

  She sent a mental touch to her seneschal and asked her to enter. When she did so, Shenni described the arrangement and ordered it to be put into writing and formally sealed. The woman nodded and escorted her dinner guest from the room. The Empress waved as he departed but her mind was already involved with the next part of her plan.

  Now, how best to get Caliste Leblanc into a position to fall into dear Wymarc’s strong arms?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cali shouted in anger as she tried and failed to block the sword with the magical jo staff composed of her combined sticks. It caught her hip and the bamboo made a sharp rapping sound that added a mental component to the physical sting. She had no time to focus on it, though, because her foe’s weapon had already been withdrawn and whipped toward her again, now at head height.

  She dropped into a crouch, spun the jo staff, and brought it up behind the swinging sword as it passed over her. With her weapon, she guided it past and stepped forward to lunge a front kick at Sensei Ikehara’s exposed ribs. He skittered away and released the sword to free his near hand. Before she could act on her momentary advantage, he simultaneously caught the weapon with the other hand and caught her ankle to give it a subtle twist.

  The only thing she could do was to throw herself into a roll to avoid having the joint broken, and by the time she regained her bearings, the sword tip was at the back of her neck. Her teacher’s voice was amused. “Do you yield?”

  “Yes, Sensei.” She sighed. “You’ve defeated me yet again.”

  He laughed as she turned to face him. “It may not feel like it, but you are improving. Your speed, your balance, and your comfort with the staff are all greater than they were only a month ago.” His white uniform was pristine, as always, and he’d moved from close-cropped hair to a shaven head recently, which she thought was a good look for the man. His usually professionally serious face was transformed when he laughed, and it was always a delight to see it, even when she was frustrated.

  His genuine praise in the face of her failure mollified her a little and she shook her head and lowered herself to sit cross-legged. She waited until her teacher had mirrored her to reply. “I get that. But things around me are accelerating faster than I’m improving. That’ll eventually create a real problem, you know?”

  He nodded. “But it’s only possible to do so much unless you have magic to change the flow of time.” With a grin, he asked, “You don’t, do you?”

  Cali chuckled and tried to keep her worry from showing. “No, unfortunately. As far as I know, that’s not a power anyone has.”

  “Well, then, all you can do is your best. If you can’t devote more hours to training, is there a way to slow the events around you?”

  “Some yes, some no. I have a couple of weeks, at least, until the local troublemakers make their next attempt. And it’s possible to delay the next fight with those in New Atlantis for a while. But those are small things and the rest are really big.”

  She hadn’t often seen her teacher look hesitant, but that was the only way to interpret his expression. “Have you considered my offer to fight at your side?”

  Cali nodded. “I would welcome it, but not until I can find a weapon that would provide you with an effective countermeasure to the magical powers you might face. I asked Zeb and my sticks can’t be used by anyone else without a fair amount of spell work I don’t know how to do, so that’s out.”

  “That makes sense. I regret that I can’t help more now, though.”

  “I would have been killed countless times over if not for your teachings. You’ve done more than I could have expected or asked for.”

  “Still.”

  “I appreciate it, Sensei.” She arched her back and stretched, then looked at the high ceiling. “Have you taken precautions?”

  “I have.” He sounded angry. She knew it wasn’t directed at her but rather at those who would force innocent bystanders into a conflict. He’d been irate when she’d explained what the Atlantean gang had done. “I am always armed, and my family remains extra aware of their surroundings. But I’m sure the resolution you forced will stand.”

  She released the stretch. “I agree, it should and it probably will. But they’ve shown a willingness to color outside the lines before and I don’t want to assume anything.”

  “In most cultures, attacking a family member is a transgression worthy of war.”

  Her spread hands and hunched shoulders betrayed her frustration and helplessness. “I’ve asked around about that. Apparently, I could declare a blood feud if I had incontrovertible evidence of who did it. But since I didn’t personally catch them in the ac
t, it would be considered second-hand and thus not definitive. Or something. I think they must have a special caste of lawyers trying to make the rules difficult down there.”

  He laughed. “Well, perhaps you can find a way to put that to use as you learn more about how things work. Is it possible for you to bring allies from New Atlantis here to fight for you or take others there for those conflicts?

  Cali frowned. “You know, I really should have thought of that. I considered it in terms of going down there but not the other way around. I wonder if there are schisms enough that I could find someone who might have a beef with the Atlantean gang here. That would be a real surprise for them when we battle again.”

  Ikehara inclined his head. “So, that’s one problem with a path forward. Perhaps two if you can find people down there willing to fight with you in both places. Now, the next challenge is locating the pieces of the sword, is that correct?”

  She nodded. “Even the ones we know about—well, we’re only sure of one, really, and that is temporarily beyond our reach.”

  “Perhaps it’s enough to be aware of its location for now. What’s stopping you from seeking the others?”

  “Finding them, basically. I hope my parents’ codebook has some clues, but there’s no guarantee it will. Emalia plans to work on it when we get to New Atlantis.”

  He stood and moved to replace his sword on the wall where it was usually mounted.

  “Well, then, Cali, it sounds like all roads lead under the sea for you right now.”

  “Indeed, Sensei.” She laughed and rose.

  His smile was encouraging. “Prepare for class. You will all work extra hard today.”