Enchanted Twist: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Scions of Magic Book 7) Read online

  Enchanted Twist

  Scions of Magic™ Book Seven

  TR Cameron

  Michael Anderle

  Martha Carr

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2020 TR Cameron & Michael Anderle

  Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design

  http://jcalebdesign.com / [email protected]

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, April 2020

  ebook ISBN: 978-1-64202-875-1

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64202-876-8

  The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-20 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Author Notes - TR Cameron

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  Other series in the Oriceran Universe:

  Other LMBPN Publishing Books

  Connect with The Authors

  The Enchanted Twist Team

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Diane L. Smith

  Jeff Eaton

  Jeff Goode

  Dave Hicks

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Larry Omans

  Deb Mader

  If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!

  Editor

  Skyhunter Editing Team

  Dedication

  For those who seek wonder around every corner and in each turning page. And, as always, for Dylan and Laurel.

  — TR Cameron

  Chapter One

  “I don’t know, buddy, this place seriously gives me the creeps.” Caliste Leblanc, matriarch of the noble house that bore her surname, peered through the rusty door into the mausoleum ship and grimaced. “Isn’t there a good reason for burial at sea? Why store the bodies here?”

  Fyre snorted and the scales that covered his canine-sized dragon lizard body shimmered turquoise and scarlet. “The nobles are weird in all kinds of ways. This shouldn’t come as a surprise.”

  They had traversed several clear tubes that stretched from the dock area of the domed city of New Atlantis to their current position at the entrance to one of the wrecks that surrounded the central sphere. The Bermuda Triangle was known to swallow ships, planes, and whatever else braved its borders, and many of those lost conveyances eventually became part of the expanding web of the city. In this case, House Rivette—whose scion now sat on the throne as Empress—had claimed a small military boat as the unlikely cairn for their ancestors’ remains.

  Their walk had been nerve-wracking as the ship and the cylinder that led to it floated over a large chasm and the remaining buoyancy of the vessel was apparently all that prevented it from falling further and taking the connection to the city with it. The path had swayed and creaked with every step.

  The interior of the ship was dimly lit with what looked like flickering tongues of magical flame confined in jars. These provided only enough illumination to see a short distance ahead. Their path had ended at a locked bulkhead door and she had released it with a spell and a command word Emalia had discovered. Her great-aunt, unsurprisingly, had turned out to be a fantastic researcher.

  She’s fantastic at everything. Showoff. Cali grinned at the memory of the older woman running through the halls of the Leblanc mansion shouting, “I’ve found the pommel! I’ve found the pommel!”

  Three pieces of the heirloom sword she needed to free her brother still lay beyond her grasp. Soon to be two, she reminded herself. And the Draksa’s earlier observation was correct. There was nothing normal about the New Atlantean nobles. “You’re not kidding.”

  He turned a wry grin on her. “Except for Wymarc, right?”

  Cali rolled her eyes at the mention of the patriarch of House Jehenel, who had been her frequent companion during her visits to New Atlantis. “Shut it, you.” She sighed, peered ahead to try to discern what awaited them, and muttered, “It’s unfortunate that Emalia couldn’t find more information on where in this blasted ship the pommel is.” It was merely noise to occupy her brain, not a real complaint. She switched to mental communication with her partner.

  “Okay, let’s be quiet from here on out.”

  “Will do.” Their two-way telepathy was a recent development in their deepening relationship that made her very happy. While she’d always been able to sense his emotions, talking directly to him was proving far more useful.

  “Let’s move ahead. Keep your eyes and ears open.” She allowed her magic to escape the confines of her skin and stretch without specific intention. In the past, she’d detected secrets that way and she hoped it would lead her to the object she sought.

  And once the sword is complete, I’ll beat the information I need to save Atreo out of Styrris Malniet with my bare hands if necessary.

  She stepped over the bottom lip of the bulkhead and entered the room. The chamber seemed like the kind of place where you’d receive visitors, with space to move to both sides and another door on the opposite wall. The floor was comprised of metal grates, slightly rusted but better preserved than one would expect. Her heavy boots stirred puffs of dust with each step.

  She’d chosen to wear her combat clothes, although they’d been hidden under a windbreaker she’d abandoned in the tunnel on the way in. The dark padded jacket with the compass that was her family sigil hung over black pants and a broad belt secured it at her waist. Her light and shield charms hung from a slim silver chain around her neck, and the thick bracelets that would transform into her fighting sticks were snug on her forearms. Healing and energy potions rested in each of her thigh pockets. She was confident that she was ready for whatever lay on the other side of the closed bulkhead across from her.

  The wheel protested loudly as she wrenched it in a circle. When the passage finally opened, her assumption was proven wrong. She was decidedly not ready for the abundance of memorials—pictures on the metal walls, somber candles all around that flickered without heat,
and handwritten notes stuck to all the vertical surfaces and the shelf that ran at waist level along the perimeter of the room. She used words instead of telepathy, forgetting herself in the moment. “Holy hell.”

  Speech seemed somehow offensive in the quiet space. She approached a picture at random of a severe-looking woman with upswept grey hair, a sharp, thin face, and eyes that expressed disappointment with the viewer. Beneath it perched a poem full of remembrance, rendered in a child’s hand and signed Shenni.

  Cali shook her head in wonder and returned to mental communication. “The Empress had a heart once. Imagine.” The thought of the monarch brought her swiftly to reality. “Okay, so our enemies aren’t completely awful. Only ninety-nine percent awful.”

  Fyre snorted a soft laugh and spoke into her mind. “You are generous.”

  “Right?” She crossed to the next door and yanked on the wheel. When it refused to move, she pushed magic into her arms to strengthen them and tried again. A sharp snapping sound indicated the lock shattering and the barrier released. “Let’s keep searching. Somewhere in this old tub is a piece of my family’s sword.”

  As the passage opened, the Draksa asked, “Did Emalia have any clue why it’s in the possession of House Rivette?”

  “No.” Cali stepped into the space beyond, a long hallway that led to a four-way intersection. “But it’s safe to assume it has something to do with their betrayal of my parents. That’s a debt that still needs to be paid.” And taking back what belongs to me is the first step.

  The walls to either side remained metal but were painted black like she’d crossed into a different section of the tomb. They absorbed the scant light and made everything seem darker. She considered calling a flame ball, but the ominous sense of danger she’d detected in the initial rooms had increased with each step. Her instincts cautioned her to decide that whatever secrecy she could maintain would be worth the effort. She stepped carefully so her boots wouldn’t generate undue sound on the metal beneath her. Fyre, as always, moved as silently as if he were floating.

  The spokes to either side at the intersection led to short corridors that ended at closed doors with unrecognizable markers on them. It’s probably their house language. She opened the one on the right. Beyond it lay a single sarcophagus of heavy grey stone cut at sharp angles into the abstract image of a person, with the stylized shark that was the Rivette house symbol engraved above a string of unfamiliar characters. The black-surfaced room was otherwise empty and nothing indicated what member of the family was buried there. For a moment, she thought about shoving the huge lid aside but quelled the impulse. “Boring.”

  Fyre, who had wandered once around the area while she studied it carefully, nodded. “Definitely.”

  Cali sighed. “I don’t want to check every single room but that’s what we’ll do if we have to. I feel like it’s more likely to be deeper within, so how about we walk to the other side and open everything on our way back?”

  His mental voice was noncommittal. “Sure. It’s as good an idea as any.”

  The ship appeared to be largely symmetrical, with chambers on either side at regular intervals all marked with the mysterious symbols. She passed them and progressed deeper into the vessel while she pushed away the sensation of being swallowed by an enormous fish. Occasional staircases led upward but were rendered unusable by metal sheets attached at ceiling height. She nodded toward one. “I guess they don’t want us to go upstairs.”

  “Maybe there’s no upstairs to go to. This is a shipwreck, after all.”

  “That’s a good point, fang face.” Amusement surged from him, and she grinned at the feeling. Ahead, the corridor ended in another heavy door with a wheel on it. The barrier held many letters in the unknown alphabet. “I wonder what it says?”

  “Probably ‘stay out or we’ll kill you.’ That’s my guess.”

  She laughed, then stifled the sound. “You suck. Why would there be death threats on a funeral ship?”

  “Zombies?”

  “If House Rivette had zombies, they’d doubtless stand guard everywhere. No, I don’t think we have to worry about the undead.” She strode forward and grasped the wheel, which refused to budge. Even with magical assistance, her strength was insufficient. She stepped back and frowned at it.

  Okay, be that way. Cautiously, she let her magic extend toward the door and discovered wards in place. Fortunately, they didn’t trigger at the touch of her power and she narrowed her focus on each in turn. Untangling them was a challenge, but she’d practiced on and off with Emalia and her skills were sufficient to undo them.

  When she finally removed the last one, she asked, “Okay, why would there be wards?”

  Fyre grinned. “Maybe they’re hiding something useful behind it? Like a big room full of zombies and a sword handle?”

  Cali shook her head. “Will you let the zombies thing go, please? I’m sure it’s something stupid, probably another corridor.” Again, opening the door proved her wrong.

  Stepping across the threshold was like entering a different place entirely. She felt the tingle of magic but also a difference in air pressure. It reminded her of movies with science experiments that had to be prevented from leaking out. Negative pressure, that’s what it’s called. Everything seemed muffled and even the vague creaks and groans of the metal that had been her constant companion since she set foot on the ship were absent. Neither of those, however, was as shocking as the sight before her.

  Where the front had felt cramped and narrow, the entire back portion of the vessel had been gutted to create one large room. Metal tables like coroners used were arranged perpendicular to the angled walls on both sides to create a strange pattern. What rested on the metal surfaces was the most shocking sight and the two intruders gaped in silence as they tried to make sense of it. A uniform-clad human body stretched on each surface and their chests rose and fell in tandem. Each wore a thick collar around their neck and the synchronicity of it was completely disturbing.

  Cali approached cautiously. Fyre walked at her side and she unconsciously extended a hand to touch him and draw comfort from his presence. The first form was female with an utterly blank face, closed eyes, and slack features. If not for the breathing, she would have assumed the woman was deceased.

  Okay, maybe the zombie theory has some legs. She checked the next and the ones after that, but the dozen figures were all the same.

  Also notable was the complete lack of sword parts anywhere in the room. Only the tables and the bodies were stored there.

  “Well, damn. I guess we’ll have to go back. Do you have any idea what this is all about? And don’t say zombies.”

  Amusement no longer flowed from the Draksa. “They don’t seem right. I’m not sure what’s wrong with them but whatever it is, it’s something bad.”

  “It’s not our problem, though. Who knows what the Empress’ family is up to? We already knew we couldn’t trust them.” She turned to retrace her steps toward the entrance when a whisper of sound from behind made her look over her shoulder in surprise.

  Where there had been a dozen inert bodies, twelve wide-awake ones now stood and stared at her. Worse, each of them appeared to be personally angry with her for disturbing their rest. A sense of menace radiated from the group. She raced to the door and darted through a step behind Fyre with the horde of furious possible zombies on her heels.

  Chapter Two

  Cali spun as soon as she crossed the threshold and fired a cone of electricity at the door she’d passed through. The pursuers had clustered into it, which made the situation an easy one for her to deal with. She’d expected to see them flail and scream when they were bathed in lightning, but once again, her expectations proved incorrect.

  The jolt did affect them to some degree and the first one through fell—at least for the moment. Those who followed twitched and jerked as they advanced but the impact of the pain, which was always the most unpleasant result of being struck by electrical magic, didn’t seem to materi
alize. She growled her annoyance. “Okay, lightning won’t do it,” she muttered, spun away, and ran down the corridor.

  She flashed past Fyre, who replied, “Let’s try ice.” His breath weapon exploded behind her and chills rippled down her spine. She looked over her shoulder and saw that the first two pursuers had been frozen in place. In the moment that followed, those behind flowed around them, and those at the rear began to break the ice shrouds away from their companions. The Draksa turned to run with her. She sent a message to his mind. “Next right.”

  He was on her heels as she made the turn. Their adversaries would be forced into an even smaller funnel, which would give the two teammates a better element of control. They hadn’t displayed any magic yet, so she was hopeful that fire would scour the threat away. The first one to round the corner received a blast of flame in the face and fell back as he burned. Although he might not have felt the pain, the damage to his muscles kept him down. She readied herself for the next but it didn’t come.

  “What the hell?” Cali muttered.

  Fyre shook his head, his gaze locked on the corridor ahead. “No idea. Maybe they’re scared?”