Hand of Justice Boxed Set

by Jace Mitchell

  “Maybe. Maybe you’re right, but that’s a long way from being definitely right. Many have potential.”

  Riley didn’t look away from the man as she spoke. “What the hell is going on, Worth?”

  He shook his head. “Always so many questions.” He looked at the stranger as if he might understand.

  The gray-eyed man showed no emotion.

  “Queen want to see her, betcha.” Worth’s smile was wide.

  “Perhaps.” The gray-eyed man nodded as if making a decision. He looked at Worth and Eric. “You two are what, then? If she’s here for the queen, why are you here?”

  “We friends. We go if she go. Otherwise,” Worth shook his head, “no.”

  The man eyed Worth but then nodded again. “So be it. Come.”

  With that, he turned around and started walking. He said nothing else, and his pace was harsh right out of the gate.

  “Worth, if you don’t tell me what is going on right now, I’m going to break your kneecaps and leave you out here to die under this sun.” Riley didn’t move an inch. She stared at Worth.

  “Underground people.” Worth smiled as he stared at the man walking into the distance. He brought his index finger to his temple and twirled it. “A little crazy, they. It help us, though. They big magic. Come. Let’s go.”

  Worth started, the big man—now somewhat drunk—easily keeping up with the gray-eyed man.

  Riley looked at Eric, who only shrugged.

  “A lot of help you’ve been today,” Riley quipped, then followed Worth.

  She didn’t know how long they walked, but the pace was grueling. Worth handled it fine, but Riley found she was walking too fast to ask any more questions—which Worth probably loved.

  Finally, the stranger stopped. He held a staff in his right hand—a gnarled piece of wood that looked at least as old as him.

  He waited until the group caught up to him and then banged his staff three times on the sand.

  Riley jumped back.

  The sand started swirling where his staff touched it. Small at first, but growing bigger, and then Riley realized what was happening.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  The ground was sinking.

  Riley glanced at Worth, but he only put a single finger to his purple lips.

  “Shhhh.”

  The sand swirled up and around her, yet she wasn’t sinking.

  She froze in place, and suddenly she saw how beautiful it was—the sand swirling around her as if she were caught up in some benign tornado.

  The stranger’s eyes had turned from gray to red, and Riley slowly started descending as the sand continued to swirl.

  She looked at Worth. He held his chalice in one hand, and had the other over its top, keeping any sand from flying in.

  Riley looked below her and saw a door opening, along with someone staring up from beneath. The door swung upward, and Riley’s group descended through it.

  A woman snapped it closed as Riley landed on solid metal.

  The stranger’s eyes turned back to gray.

  A second passed, then Riley heard and felt the sand collapse again. The tunnel she now stood in shook.

  “What do they want?” the new woman asked.

  The male stranger looked at Riley. “Her. It’s possible. They want to see the queen.”

  “Hold on,” Riley interrupted. “Everyone just hold the hell on for a second. Who are you two, and where are we?”

  The strangers both looked at her.

  “I’m Thomas,” the man said.

  The woman followed with, “I’m Rachel.”

  “Do you have last names?” Riley asked, wanting it all out at once.

  “No. The Chosen don’t have last names. There’s no need,” Thomas said.

  Riley looked at Worth. “The Chosen?”

  Worth shrugged, taking his hand off his chalice. “Underground people.”

  “That’s what those above call us.” The man sneered. “It’s derogatory, and you’ll refrain from using it while you’re down here. You’re our guests. Don’t forget that.”

  Riley nodded. “That’s fine. The Chosen. Now, where is this place?”

  Rachel spoke next. “The Elders built this place.”

  Riley knew some of the Elders, although not a lot. They were the people from before the world began again.

  The two strangers started walking as if that had answered the whole question.

  “No, no.” Riley passed both of them easily and halted, stopping them in their tracks. “I’ve got a lot of questions. What is this?”

  “Told you.” Worth smiled from behind. “‘Lotta questions. Always.”

  “We can walk and talk,” Rachel commented. “Can you?”

  The man didn’t wait but simply brushed by Riley and kept moving forward.

  Rachel followed suit.

  “Not the friendliest folks, huh, Worth?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Underground people rude.”

  “I heard that!” Thomas called.

  The three started walking. “All right,” Riley said. “We’re doing half, you do the other half and start talking.”

  “The Elders built these tunnels long ago, we think as military bases, but no one can be sure. They were lost to humanity for a long time after the world was born again, until she found them.”

  “And who’s she?” Riley asked.

  “The first queen,” Thomas answered. “Her name was Stephanie. Her daughter is our queen now, Alexandria.”

  “She reopened the halls. She brought us here and gave us a home, and now we wait for our savior,” Rachel said.

  Riley looked at Worth. He only twirled his finger at his temple again and mouthed the word, “Crazy.”

  Riley shut up, understanding that whatever these two were saying, she wasn’t going to get anything else out of them that made sense. They spoke in reverent tones and truly believed whatever nonsense they were spouting.

  Riley slowed down to open some space between the strangers.

  “Worth, what are you getting us into?” she whispered.

  “Questions. Always questions,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. “They crazy but they help. You see. Just wait. Youthful. Impatient.”

  They walked in silence for a few minutes, passing hallways on their left and right. The place truly was large, and Riley didn’t understand any of it.

  She saw no one else as they went.

  “You won’t see them, either,” Rachel spoke, clearly reading Riley’s mind. “Not unless we want you too. You’re here because you have potential, but that’s all. Many people have potential.”

  “Worth?” Riley whispered, wishing she’d never agreed to any of this. She’d rather be with William and Verith than these people.

  “You’re welcome to leave whenever you want,” Rachel retorted. “I personally don’t think you’re the one, but Thomas is right—you have potential.”

  “Stay out of my head,” Riley shot back.

  They reached another metal door. Thomas stopped and looked back at Riley. “She’s in there.”

  “What? Just like that? Does she know I’m here?”

  Worth touched Riley’s elbow. “Please. Trust Worth. Go.”

  “They’re coming with me,” Riley told the two strangers.

  Thomas shook his head. “No, they’re not. You will go in alone, or you won’t go in at all.”

  Riley looked at Worth. She hated this because she didn’t understand it. “You two will be safe?”

  “Riley,” Eric stressed.

  She looked at him, surprised. He’d unwrapped his head so she could see him now. There was no fear on his face, and none on Worth’s either.

  She knew why Eric wasn’t afraid. He could kill everyone in here at the drop of a hat. And Worth understood what was going on.

  She was the only one who felt fear, but it was for their safety.

  “Get your ass in there,” Eric said. “We can take care of ourselves, I fuckin’ promise.”


  She laughed, breaking through the anxiety in her mind.

  “I forget I’m traveling with killers.” She looked at the two strangers. “Take me to her.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A day had passed since the ship arrived at Sidnie.

  Brighten watched it come to the dock, and then watched as two men strode off it. The military had surrounded them, although no one was killed.

  They led the two men off while soldiers boarded the ship. The other nine ships remained offshore.

  Brighten and Kris observed it all.

  “What the fuck is goin’ on?” Kris asked.

  “You think I’m a mind reader? I don’t know. I’m seeing the same things you are,” Brighten responded.

  “No, what I think is next time we steal some bread, I’m goin’ to rat on you to the guards, and getcha put in jail. How about that?” She grinned at her friend.

  They were waiting near the docks again, having just grabbed a few loaves from a merchant down the street. Brighten had been the lookout while Kris’ quick hands did the dirty work. Now they were shoving the loot in their faces.

  The other ships Brighten spotted yesterday sat in the distance and the one that actually arrived remained mostly undisturbed. Some guards came and went from it—checking things or just fucking with the people inside, Brighten didn’t know. Neither would surprise him. He didn’t have fond feelings toward the guards, that was for sure.

  Brighten heard the footsteps before he felt the hand, knowing that somehow he’d been snuck up on—and almost unable to believe it.

  The hand that grabbed him by the neck changed all that, though. Brighten was wrenched off the ground, and he looked down immediately at Kris.

  She had always been faster than he and was already bolting forward.

  Another hand snapped out like a snake and grabbed her by the back of her shirt.

  “Not a word,” someone whispered harshly, and Brighten said nothing.

  Not as physically quick as Kris, his mind worked super-fast. This wasn’t a guard; they didn’t whisper. It wasn’t the merchant they’d stolen the bread from, because he didn’t have the physical prowess to sneak up on Brighten. And finally, it wasn’t anyone from the street, because Brighten knew all of them.

  Kris, on the other hand, hadn’t thought of all that and started shouting.

  “Shut it, girl!” the man whispered a bit louder. “Right now or I’ll break ya!”

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET GO OF ME!” Kris shrieked, trying to wiggle out of the man’s large hands.

  “Verith!” the man said, his voice growing louder. “Help me with this little bitch!”

  Brighten heard other footsteps now.

  A man grabbed Kris and put his hand over her mouth. She tried biting him, but he clamped her jaw shut.

  “William, I told ya those weren’t the two to grab.” A woman’s voice now. “You make even worse decisions now that Riley’s not here. Father and Mother, I wish she’d return!”

  The woman walked in front of the two men and looked at Brighten and Kris.

  “He’s an oaf, and I apologize for it. We mean ya no harm, neither of ya.”

  She was older, short and stocky with a hard face. But her eyes were kind.

  “Truth be told, we need yer help, but the oaf who’s got hold of ya there said ya’d just run.” The woman cast a harsh glance at the man holding Brighten. “If he puts ya down, will ya just hear me out?”

  Kris had stopped struggling. She could get away if they put her down—most likely. The big man who held Brighten had to be fast as hell, given how easily he’d grabbed them.

  “Yeah, I won’t run,” Brighten said.

  “You think I’mma trust him, Lucie? You’re dumber than you look,” the big man grumbled.

  She glared at him. “We’re supposed to trust these kids. That’s why we frickin’ grabbed ‘em, ain’t it? If we can’t trust what they tell us, we’re gonna get killed. Now put him down!”

  The old woman stomped her foot.

  The big man hesitated for a moment but then lowered Brighten to the ground and let go of his neck.

  “What about me?” Kris said, although her voice was muffled by the man holding her.

  “Put her down, Verith,” the old woman told him.

  He did, and Kris did exactly what Brighten thought.

  She bolted, legs pumping.

  “Aw, damn it!” the big man said. He didn’t move, though, probably thinking it wasn’t worth the trouble. “I told you!”

  Kris stopped about ten feet away.

  She turned around and found Brighten’s eyes.

  “You’re too fuckin’ slow!” she shouted, shaking her head. She started walking back, refusing to leave her friend to these strangers.

  “Hangin’ with you is gonna get me killed,” Kris said as she reached the group. She glanced at the big man. “Father and Mother, you’re ugly.” She looked at all three. “Actually, the lot of you might be the ugliest people I’ve ever seen here, besides this slow-ass Brighten here.”

  Kris was back to her “couldn’t give a fuck” attitude, although Brighten was scared stiff.

  “Tell us what ya want, because I was havin’ lunch before ya showed up and grabbed me,” Kris scolded.

  “She’s got a mouth on her, don’t she?” the one called Verith said, chuckling.

  “I’m sure you bought that lunch, huh?” the big man asked. “You little street urchin, I betcha stole it from some hard-workin’ man.”

  “Stole it from your mother,” Kris shot back. “Now what do you want?”

  The older woman stepped in. “A ship came here yesterday; you see it?”

  Brighten nodded. “We saw it.”

  “Well, he did,” Kris told them. “He’s slow as hell, but he’s smart, and he’s got eyes like a fuckin’ hawk.”

  “Good.” The old lady smiled. “That’s what we want to talk about. The ship and this kingdom. Mainly the kingdom; do you know anything about that?”

  “Sure as hell do.” Kris grinned. “But it’s gonna cost ya.”

  “Aw, hell,” the big man grumbled. “We’re being held up by kids who barely reach my belt buckle.”

  Harold and Rendal shared the same room, one lacking the furnishings Rendal was used to.

  Harold was fine with the room, but he had no idea what was about to happen.

  They’d been ushered into this room and questioned for a few hours. Rendal handled all the questions, not showing any stress. Even when they asked about his bracelets, he was completely confident.

  “Oh, these? Just little pieces of jewelry. Personally, I don’t like them, but some of the places I visit find the stones in them beautiful. Leads to better sales.”

  He had smiled as if to say, “Who can blame me?”

  The questioning went on, but all the answers were the same: they were merchants looking to talk to the Prefect to set up favorable trading terms. No, he would not meet with anyone else. No, he was not armed. If the Prefect would not see him, then the Prefect would be withholding a steady stream of valuables at reasonable prices from his people.

  “What if they don’t bring you to him?” Harold asked.

  Rendal lay on a cot on the other side of the room. His hands were behind his head while he stared at the ceiling.

  “Oh, they will, Harold.”

  “I don’t doubt you, sir, but why?”

  Rendal didn’t look over. “Because of the nine ships on the horizon. Never underestimate human greed, Harold. Not everyone holds your values. It’s not power this man serves, but greed. Those ships mean money for him and for his people. He’ll see me.”

  Harold stared at his master, hardly able to believe it. “Were you planning this? Was that one of the reasons we picked up so many ships?”

  “Of course, Harold. The men on board will definitely help with my plans of militaristic conquest, but the ships help when other means are necessary.”

  The door to the room opened. Harold did
n’t look up.

  “Prefect Slidell has agreed to see you, Hemmons. The accountant will remain here.”

  “That’s fine!” Rendal hopped up. “Harold’s a big boy. He can take of himself. Let’s go see the Prefect.”

  The guard stared at Hemmons as if he had two heads, and Harold thought only a single sentence: This city is doomed.

  Rendal followed the guard through the castle to the tower. He admired the tower and thought he would add one to New Perth when he returned. In reality, he thought there was a lot New Perth could learn from this place.

  The climb up the tower was long, but Rendal didn’t mind. He had the energy of an eighteen-year-old and thought he might actually be hearing the guard above him huffing just a bit.

  They reached the top of the stairs, and Rendal looked out the window to his right. He loved the view; it was simply gorgeous. The kingdom stretched as far as the eye could see.

  Yes, this would make a good vacation home.

  “We’ve arrived,” the guard said stuffily.

  “Oh?” Rendal asked as if he were dumb. “Is that what the door means?”

  “Watch your tongue, merchant.”

  Rendal decided he would drop the man from this tower when he was finished with the Prefect.

  The guard knocked on the door three times with a closed fist.

  “Enter,” the Prefect answered.

  The guard pulled the large handle and stepped in.

  “Your Majesty, I present the merchant from earlier: Rendal Hemmons.”

  “Thank you,” the Prefect replied. “You may leave us.”

  The guard bowed slightly and turned. He looked at Rendal as he passed, and the mage grinned at him.

  See you soon, he thought, knowing that the guard would feel a hint of the words but not know where they came from.

  He turned to Slidell.

  “They tell me you’re an important man,” the Prefect told him. “That you have ten ships waiting on the ocean for us, all filled to the brim with bounty you’re willing to trade. Is that true?”

  He was youthful, with dark hair and a square jaw. He looked more like a politician than a mage.

  “It is, your Majesty,” Rendal answered. “For the right price.”

  “They didn’t tell me you practiced magic as well,” the Prefect commented. “Most likely my guards couldn’t tell.”