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

by TR Cameron

  Cali nodded. “And the other charms?” A new shield pendant hung from her neck but she didn’t know how to activate the others yet.

  Her great aunt laughed. “Yes, and that too. You’re quite the taskmaster.”

  She rose with a grin. “You gotta earn your keep somehow, lady.”

  The dwarf’s gaze followed her. “And so do you. We need to get back, don’t you think?”

  “Yep. I have one thing left to take care of and we’ll be good to go.”

  She refilled her coffee and hurried to the first-floor den, which had been her parents’ office as far as she could tell. Once seated behind the desk that contained the stationery and the wax, she retrieved some of each. The center drawer produced a pen, and she thought about how to properly phrase the invitation she was about to draft.

  A frown of concentration appeared as she focused on making the handwriting legible.

  To: Patriarch Stennis, House Malniet.

  In keeping with the rituals of New Atlantis, I summon two champions to face the same from House Leblanc, four days hence at eight in the evening at the same location as before. Of course, if you wish to acknowledge your ultimate defeat and offer me the boon I seek, that would certainly be an acceptable outcome as well.

  Signed,

  Caliste, Matriarch of House Leblanc.

  She looked at Fyre. “Would it be wrong to add a postscript? Something like ‘Oh, and by the way, you and your family are all jerks who deserve to live neck-deep in an anthill forever?’”

  He snorted. “That would perhaps be a little too on the nose, all things considered.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” She nodded reluctantly. “Hey, Jenkins?”

  The spirit replied from the corner of the room. “Yes, Matriarch Caliste?”

  “Can you and Emalia arrange for this to be delivered before the end of the day?”

  “Indeed so.”

  “Thanks.” She rose and stretched. “Okay, buddy, I think it’s time we headed to New Orleans. We can make sure Janice hasn’t burned the tavern down in our absence, get our things together to search for a sword, and check on Dasante and Tanyith.” He trotted at her side as she returned to the kitchen.

  Zeb stood when she arrived, clearly ready to go. She nudged the Draksa with her leg. “See? He’s worried about her burning it down, too.”

  He growled in annoyance. “I am not. Don’t pick on Janice. It’s unseemly, Matriarch.”

  Cali laughed. “Oh, heaven forbid I do something unseemly.” She gestured with her arms to create a portal with the basement of the Drunken Dragons on the opposite side. “Emalia, is everything good with you? I should be back Monday.”

  Her great aunt nodded. “If any problems arise, I’ll lock myself in and wait. But I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Trust no one. Especially Wymarc Jehenel.”

  “Oh? You two aren’t engaged yet?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yep, time to go. The people here are simply annoying.” With a smile, she stepped through.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  As he strode across the threshold into his tavern, Zeb heaved a happy sigh. More than his actual house, this place felt like home to him. He’d been glib about Janice but in truth, he hadn’t liked leaving someone other than him in charge, even for only the couple days they’d been gone. He couldn’t imagine anyone else—other than maybe his brother on Oriceran—who would have been able to convince him to do so.

  But Cali held a special place in his heart and he would do almost anything for her.

  Except the thing you’re best at, his inner voice countered. The dwarf shook his head and climbed the stairs at Cali’s heels. The Thursday night crowd was smaller than usual, but that wasn’t a shock since Janice was running the tavern alone. A cheer went up at his arrival, and his temporary replacement grinned as she ducked out from behind the bar to give him a hug. “We survived, but things are always better when the boss is here.”

  Cali sounded like she made an effort to be pleasant when she said, “Thank you, Janice. It was really nice of you to take over to free him up.”

  The other woman nodded. “Do you two have it from here?”

  Zeb turned to confirm it with the snarky redhead, but she had already strode into the crowd. He laughed. “Yep, it’s all good. Thanks again.”

  Janice grinned and headed toward the exit, saying farewells to the folks at the bar. He took his place and lost himself in work for a while, the familiar rhythms soothing. Before he realized how much time had passed, the moment had arrived to start pushing the patrons out the door.

  Once they were all gone and the entrance was locked against new customers, Cali climbed onto a stool and put her head on the surface of the bar. “Damn, I’m tired.”

  He slid a soft cider beside her hand and it took her almost a full minute to look up again. When she did, the strain was visible on her features, especially around her eyes.

  “You have every right to be,” he said softly. “Things have changed dramatically for you in the last few months.”

  Her fingers trembled as she reached for the glass, but she managed to down half the drink without spilling it. She was a little more herself when she finished and summoned a wry grin. “Yeah. Who would have thought I’d have a legacy to live up to?”

  He chuckled. “You’ve already done that. I have zero doubt you’re every inch the person your parents hoped you would be and more. Now, it’s all gravy, adding your volume to the story of the Noble House of Leblanc.”

  She snorted. “Hah. Noble. I think I like being known as your server more than by such a lofty title.”

  “You’re both. That’s what makes you special. It’s what will enable you to beat any of those luxury-raised morons who try to attack you.”

  “I’m not quite as confident about that as you are.”

  “You should be. I’m very knowledgeable about such things.”

  Cali laughed. “I’m sure Valerie was the brains of the operation.”

  He looked over his shoulder at the battle-ax. “We were more like partners, actually.”

  “Are you saying that Valerie is an artifact?” She raised an eyebrow.

  Zeb shook his head. “You can go now. It’s time to close.”

  “You’re deflecting.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow for work. Shoo.”

  She drained her glass and pointed a finger at him. “This conversation isn’t over.”

  He waved and she departed. The fact that he’d put a smile on her face counted, though, and he gave himself a mental pat on the back for his cleverness.

  It’s time to get out of here and hit the rack. Tomorrow will come early.

  Zeb stood outside the front door and sketched a symbol in the air to set the physical locks and activate the magical wards on the building before he stuck his pipe between his lips. He cupped his hand over the bowl and sparked it with a match, then drew deep and expelled the smoke through his nose.

  His pipe leaf was another constant reminder of Oriceran, a touchstone that kept his past and present connected to each other. His life had changed since he’d come to Earth, but he hadn’t, not really.

  Oh sure, his inner voice commented. Go ahead and lie to yourself.

  “Shut it.” He growled under his breath and set off for home. His house was only a few blocks away, too close for portaling to be worth the effort. Besides, the walks were another ritual that calmed him and helped him to keep his mind in the right place—one other than the violence that had captured so many of his early days. Back then, he’d felt like it would overcome him. Now, however, he thought he would probably have learned to adapt. Either way, he liked his life as it was, and as long as Cali was around, he saw no reason for change. If she decided to make New Atlantis her permanent home, he might consider joining her for a while, simply for the new experiences.

  His internal musing occupied him enough that when two tall Atlanteans in hoodies and jeans stepped from the corner into his path, it came as a surpris
e. It took only a moment for his senses to kick into gear and identify the sounds of several more trailing him, and the tactical voice in his mind anticipated the presence of at least one more in reserve ahead. Zeb removed his pipe and pointed it calmly at the duo in front of him. “You’re not really this stupid, are you?”

  They laughed, and the sound was echoed from behind him. The one on the right replied. “We’re not the ones walking alone at night. Maybe you should have thought your decision to support the girl through a little more. Choices like that have ramifications.” He said the final word like he was proud to know it and possibly understood what it meant.

  The dwarf sighed. “Okay, you’ve delivered your threat. I am duly cowed. If you’re smart, you’ll shove off now.”

  The one on the left shook his head. “Do you think we’re scared of your friend? Even if we were, she’s not here right now.”

  He shrugged. “This is your last chance. You should consider the ramifications of your next move carefully.”

  The two in front didn’t react, but the scuff of a shoe behind him telegraphed the incoming attack. Zeb darted to his left, dropped into a deep crouch, and spun to his right. The metal bar that had been swung at his head pounded into the concrete where he’d stood and drew a wince from the man who’d made the attempt to fell him. A second man and a woman now stalked toward him, the former holding a baseball bat and the latter an unexpectedly large blade. It took him a moment to place it.

  Where the blazes did she find a bayonet?

  He noted the positions of everyone around him casually, including the extra man in the front.

  Six on one. At least they realized I wouldn’t be a pushover.

  He calculated that he had time to deal with the two from the rear before the others reached him. Swiftly, he moved to close the distance between them and circled to his right to put the woman in the way of the man with the bat. She swiped at him with the bayonet and he growled his disapproval.

  “That’s a stabbing weapon, fool,” he told her and let the blade move past her centerline, then stepped in and raised his right hand to grasp her elbow. He punched up into the bottom of her bicep with his left hand to numb the arm, then drove the same fist into her ribs. They snapped and she clutched them as she fell.

  The bat already swung viciously so he darted back to let it pass. He backpedaled to keep his enemies all on one side as the three from the front joined the attack. The man who’d spoken to him first glowered at him. “Screw it. We had planned to only give you a beating but now, you get the full treatment.”

  Zeb had slipped into what he thought of as his fighting mode. It had been years since he’d practiced with any serious intent since he’d taken the intentional decision to leave that way of life behind him. A conviction that his cause was right and just flowed through him to banish most thoughts other than those of victory. In the past, it had banished all thoughts, but he’d spent the time between then and now working to improve his mind and deepen his self-understanding. He was able to partition one small section to provide guidance to the rest, something important he’d previously lacked. It reminded him there was no need to kill in this situation, only to injure.

  The feeling of his forearm cuffs flowing over his hands without conscious instruction was a shock of cold magic that made his skin crawl for a moment, but it passed quickly and the viscous liquid solidified into his magical weapons. They had been the inspiration for those he’d crafted for Cali, mostly as a way to pass the time after they’d met. He’d never imagined she’d actually need them.

  His hatchets featured three impact surfaces. The head of the weapon had a curved blade on one side and a blunt knob on the other, and the base of the shaft had a flat-bottomed metal ball on it. They weren’t weighted for throwing as such, but he’d had enough practice that he was more than proficient at it. They would return to him with a thought and a trickle of magic. More than that, though, the weapons were a conduit for his own magics, which operated practically without conscious direction when the combat axes were in his hands.

  If only I had my armor.

  You don’t need it for this group, his inner voice almost crowed in reply. He echoed the statement out loud. “You’re right, I don’t need it for them.”

  The Atlanteans had taken a step back when the weapons appeared but seemed to have gathered their wits. He clapped the heads of the hatchets together and as the metal chimed, a wave of force flowed from them. The two who had been the first to speak managed to summon shields quickly enough to hold their ground, but the others were hurled from their feet.

  “Well, all right then,” he said and smiled. “Let’s see what you have.”

  They attacked together, which demonstrated a measure of sense. The one on the left ejected a cone of flame at him, while the one on the right tried shadow bolts that streaked across the distance between them. He shuffled to the left to avoid the dark magic and raised his hatchet to intercept the fire. The head of the weapon glowed as his magic drew the flames in and the metal portion gleamed cherry-red. After several seconds, the man let the ineffective attack fall away. Zeb smiled and charged.

  Most people assumed that because dwarves lacked height, they were also slow. The assumption was, of course, incorrect but had proved useful as an element of surprise. As he’d once told Cali, he was a sprinter, not a marathoner and over short distances, he was wickedly fast. He was beside the two men before they realized it and spun his hatchets so the blunt part of the head faced them. As he raced between them, he channeled his momentum and his strength into the weapons held at arm’s length and drove the metal knobs into their stomachs.

  Both collapsed without a sound other than sharp exhalations of breath. He had a moment to hope he’d pulled the blow enough to not permanently injure them before the remaining three made their attempt.

  The bat-wielder came in first, and it was a simple matter to block his downward strike with one hatchet. Zeb pointed his weapon at the other man, and a snapping sound accompanied the sizzle of lightning that erupted from the head to wreath the man in electricity. He danced involuntarily for a moment before he fell.

  While the dwarf had been occupied with the others, the one with the metal bar had closed enough to whip it at his stomach. Zeb jumped back and took the strike, which was now weakened by the distance, then slammed both his hatchets down to knock the weapon out of his foe’s hands.

  The man looked at him, wide-eyed, and he resisted the urge to hurl a blade at his face. He shook his head. “Get along now. Go.” He pointed his left-hand weapon at the last man, who’d attempted to sneak around him. “Uh-uh. You go too—right this second or you’ll both go down permanently. And tell your masters that if they come after me or any of Cali’s friends again, they’re asking for way more trouble than they know how to handle.”

  The sneaky one raised his palms and backpedaled before the duo turned and ran. Zeb shook his head at the idiots. He envisioned the throws that would put his blades in their backs, but the controlled portion of his mind prevented the weapons from leaving his hands. Turning to check on the others, he found them damaged but alive. He retrieved the phone he denied having from the secret pocket in his trousers and dialed the police tip line with the location.

  That done, the dwarf let his hatchets flow into their hidden state and walked home, whistling in the dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cali sealed her uniform, then slotted her potions into place in her thigh pouches. After she’d seen the leather sheaths her mother had packed away, the idea of something similar for the metal vials that contained her healing and energy brews had occurred to her, but there hadn’t yet been time to make it happen.

  The smarter move would have been to wait a few days before she began the search for the sword piece Emalia had found, but she wasn’t able to cope with any further delay. With each day that passed, her need to bring the mysteries surrounding her parents and their deaths to a resolution grew exponentially. At times, it was al
most suffocating and the only way to deal with it was to keep moving forward.

  Like a shark. Swim or die.

  Which was why she, Tanyith, and Fyre were in the bunker early on a Saturday morning, gearing up for a treasure hunt. At least that’s what he had called it, and she couldn’t argue the point. The Draksa paced, more agitated than she’d seen him in the recent past.

  “What’s the deal, buddy? Are you okay?”

  He growled. “Still mad about the attack.”

  She nodded. Zeb had called from the tavern early that morning to let her know that the Atlanteans had attacked him the night before. He sounded none the worse for wear and in fact, he’d seemed almost happy about it. The idea that her friends remained in danger apparently offended Fyre almost as much as it did her, however. “I hear you, but one problem at a time. They’ll get theirs.”

  He muttered something she wasn’t able to hear and continued to pace. Tanyith distracted her from that worry by introducing another. “I realized the last time I was in here that there aren’t any weapons around. It seems weird that your parents wouldn’t have had them, don’t you think? We only know about the one sword, but there has to be other stuff.”

  Cali paused while lacing her boots to consider the statement. It did make sense that they’d have others, but she hadn’t seen any sign of them anywhere aside from the ornamental ones at the Leblanc estate. “That’s a good point but I have no idea where to start looking. Maybe Emalia will discover something in the coded book.” She tied the final lace. “Anyway, it’s a problem for another day. Let’s put our game faces on and find some treasure.”

  They met Invel in the main room of the Drunken Dragons at ten am, as arranged. When they climbed the stairs from the basement, he was drinking a soft cider at the bar and gossiping with Zeb, who looked inordinately pleased with himself.