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Murder of Crows (The Twenty-Sided Sorceress Book 2)
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Murder of Crows
The Twenty-Sided Sorceress: Book Two
Annie Bellet
Copyright 2014, Annie Bellet
All rights reserved. Published by Doomed Muse Press.
This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to [email protected].
Cover designed by Ravven (www.ravven.com)
Formatting by Polgarus Studio (www.polgarusstudio.com)
Electronic edition, 2014
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This book is dedicated to Matt, Greg, and Jane, for putting up with me.
And also to the Indie Asylum, for keeping me sane.
The battlefield was quiet in the summer sunlight. I heard only the hum of insects and a light shushing of wind. My back was sweaty where I pressed it against the bark of an oak, using the tree as cover from the enemy I couldn’t see or hear, but knew was out there across the meadow. The pile of ammo at my feet had dwindled down to a double handful. In the shade of the trees to my right, Harper’s brother Max lay prone, red dripping down his chest and staining the dead leaves beneath him.
To the other side of me, Alek crouched among slender aspen trees, his arm useless, his leg oozing colors, his gun on the ground. He gave me a Gallic shrug and slight smile, the afternoon breeze lifting his white blond hair off his forehead, his ice blue eyes glinting with dark humor.
A paintball burst on a tree trunk just over his head.
“So,” he said. “We’re out manned and out gunned.”
“Maybe you should untie my hands,” I said.
“That’s not the point of the game,” Max pointed out.
“For a corpse, you are doing a lot of talking.” I glared at the kid, but he just grinned.
Peeking around the tree, I surveyed the meadow. Ezee’s body was a dark lump in the grass. He was the only one I’d brought down so far, no thanks to the “help” on my team. I was pretty damn sure Alek and Max had gotten shot on purpose so that I’d have to figure out how to take down Harper and Ezee’s twin, Levi, on my own.
We were gathered on this lovely summer Sunday out at The Henhouse Bed and Breakfast where Harper and Max’s mother Rosie was letting us train. Three months ago, I’d saved her from an evil warlock, but exposed myself to an old rival. A man who would come after me.
Kind of surprising he hadn’t already, really. Samir, my psychokiller ex, had restrained himself to sending cryptic postcards and had yet to show his face. I knew he would tire of sending messages and show up eventually.
I needed to get my sorceress powers stronger before that happened. Much, much stronger.
Hence the paintball game of ultimate unfairness. Ezee, Harper, and Levi were all accomplished paintballers as well as shape shifters, which meant they got super speed, strength, extraordinary senses, and great reaction time to go with their crack shot abilities, and they were on the opposing side. That left me with Alek, who should have been good at paintball since he could shoot real guns just fine, and Max, who was more enthusiastic than skilled. Sure, my team were shifters also, and yet here they were, out of the game already without more than a couple shots fired.
Leaving me, with my hands literally tied behind my back, to somehow win this thing. Magically. No gun. No hands. Just power. Only the rules said I had to win by hitting my opponents with paintballs, so I couldn’t just wrap a shield around myself and go hunt them down that way. No shields allowed today, either.
They’d taken away all my fun. By “fun” I do mean crutches. Bastards.
A green ball splattered on the tree trunk behind me.
“Best two out of three?” I yelled.
Another paintball, this one orange, smacked into the tree, misting paint onto my nose.
“Guess that’s a no,” I muttered as I wiped my nose on my shoulder as best I could.
“Perhaps if you sit here all day, they will get bored and come to you,” Alek said. He pulled a knife from his boot, using its point to pick at his fingernails.
I considered telling him where to stick that knife but decided to concentrate on how I was going to win this thing. I looked around the tree again. The meadow sloped slightly downhill toward the thicket of saplings and brush where Harper and Levi were holed up. They couldn’t cross the meadow, as Ezee’s suspiciously snoring body demonstrated, but neither could I go to them. I couldn’t even see them down there and I knew they’d be able to see me much clearer with their supernaturally enhanced senses.
If only my spirit guardian, the somewhat wolf-like creature I creatively called Wolf, was useful for this shit. She was lounging in the shade deeper into the trees in which I was currently hiding, her tufted ears perked as I glared at her and she swished her long and thick black tail. Wolf could only help me with magical attacks and problems. Not that she would help here anyway. She seemed to understand this was all play and was content to watch. Traitor.
I twisted my arms a bit, testing the orange baling twine’s knots. They weren’t tied that tight, the purpose wasn’t to really restrain me but to keep me from using gestures to help me cast spells. I was much better at casting when I could use my hands to direct energy. It was another crutch. Truly great magic shouldn’t need hands. I needed my brain to be able to think outside the normal physical limitations of the world.
It’s easy to pick up a couple rocks or paintballs with magic when you can just extend it as a gesture your body and mind are already used to. But visualizing having three or four or five hands? Tougher. The human brain isn’t used to being able to lift five things at once in all directions. In order to get my brain to do it, I had to break reality a little, starting in my thoughts.
Break reality. I clung to that thought. I had been flinging paintballs at them like I was the gun, but there was really no need to do so. I didn’t need to conform to the physics of a gun when I threw. I could be like that one cheesy movie where they bent bullets and stuff.
Theoretically.
“You aren’t dead,” I whispered to Alek, “so get ready to help.” I didn’t have super senses, but I had someone who did.
Alek’s leg and arm had been hit, but he wasn’t technically out, though he couldn’t shoot anymore. That was okay, I didn’t need his gun. I needed the tiger in him, his keen hunter’s senses and instincts. He was a freakin’ Justice, the shifter equivalent of Robocop, basically. Judge, jury, and sometimes executioner. He should be able to handle a little long distance reconnaissance.
“What do you need?” he whispered back.
I told him. He started to laugh, but choked it back and nodded.
I dropped down carefully to make room by the oak trunk for Alek, keeping my profile as low as possible. I closed my eyes and visualized the thicket Harper and Levi were hiding in. I heard the slight shift of clothing as Alek crept up to the tree I’d been hiding behind, felt his warmth as he crouched against my body. I was almost sad Max was lying right there, because suddenly I could think of a lot more interesting things to be doing in the woods on a warm summer day.
Okay, focus. Paintball. Not licking Alek’s chin and begging for kisses. Yeah.
I open
ed my eyes, keeping the image of the thicket in my mind as I looked down at the small pile of paintballs. One of the exercises I do, the only one I kept doing in my twenty-five years of running and hiding from Samir, was to lift multiple stones and form patterns into the air. The paintballs weren’t much different than the stones. About the same size, a little lighter.
Usually, however, I had my hands to help me visualize things. I couldn’t even grab my talisman, the silver twenty-sided die around my neck, for a focus.
I summoned my power, letting it stream through me in a shivering rush, and lifted one paintball, then another, and another, until all eight remaining were in the air. I sent them up through the trees, as high as I could without losing my thin tether of magic and control. I just hoped I could stretch my magic across the meadow. Too late now to back out of the plan. If this didn’t work, I’d have to surrender. No more ammo.
“Ready?” Alek whispered.
I nodded, not trusting speech.
Alek whipped his head out from behind the tree, squinting down the field, his eyes probably picking out details in the shifting shadows of the thicket that I would never know.
A paintball burst on the tree by his head, another whizzed by and splattered on the next tree in.
“Send the balls, I know where they are,” he whispered.
I sent my paintballs, still high up in the air, down the left of the field, hoping they would be far out of Harper and Levi’s lines of sight. Alek looked around the tree again, this time from the other side.
“Harper is behind that bush with the dark green and white leaves. Levi is crouched behind those two saplings with the twinned trunks.”
I peeked around the tree, picking out where he said they were. I saw nothing but slight movement in the leaves of the bush which could have been wind. If Alek was wrong, we’d lose.
Fortunately, in the three months I’d been sharing my bed with him, I’d learned that Alek wasn’t wrong very often. And he hated losing almost as much as I did.
In my mind, I gathered the paintballs into two groups of four, pushing on my magic to send one group over the bush where Harper was and the other group around behind the saplings. Their foliage wasn’t thick, the trees too young to have many branches. I guess Harper and Levi hadn’t thought about cover from above.
Rule number one of horror movies? No one ever looks up.
My magic was holding, though it felt like I had dragged hot wires out of my brain and my power was slippery in my mental grasp. I could see the thin tethers holding the balls in the air, which meant another sorcerer would be able to as well. I filed that information away.
“Geronimo,” I said under my breath as I pooled more magic around the balls and shoved them downward as hard as my weakening control would allow.
“Fuck!”
“Holy shitballs!”
The exclamations from the thicket were music to my ears.
Harper and Levi stood up from their spots, their heads and shoulders running with a rainbow of paint colors. In the meadow, Ezee sat up and started laughing.
“You two look like a unicorn took a shit on you,” Max yelled, getting to his feet.
“Frag the weak! Hurdle the dead!” I yelled, heaving to my feet and running out into the meadow. I used a bit of power to burn away the baling twine on my wrists and thrust my sore arms out, making airplane noises as I ran in a circle through the grass.
“What are you, an Argentinean soccer player?” Ezee said, still laughing. He brushed at his khaki shorts, though there was nothing to be done about the splatters of paint. Somehow he made them look artsy and cool. Ezee could make any outfit look nice.
“Futbol, not soccer. Geez,” I said, grinning.
Paint exploded onto my chest, the balls stinging madly as they burst. I fell backward into the grass.
“Hey,” I said as Harper stalked toward me. “I won, no fair.”
“Mom has tea ready. Let’s go get cleaned up.” Harper stuck her tongue out at me and walked toward the large house in the distance.
“Sorry,” Levi called out. “Can’t trust a fox, eh? Good job with dropping those balls on us, by the way.” He offered a hand to his brother and they followed after Harper.
“If only Harper felt the same way,” I muttered. “Somebody is a sore loser.”
Alek swept me up into his arms and kissed my forehead. “Takes one to know one, eh?”
Laughing, covered in paint, and tired as hell, I pushed him away and followed the others to the house. Another lesson learned, I guess.
I wasn’t laughing later when we got back to my place. Alek was still mostly living in his little trailer, which he’d parked out at the B&B at Rosie’s invitation, but we spent a lot of nights at my apartment above my game and comics store.
My mail was stuffed in the box by my back door and I saw the postcard even as I picked up the slim pile. Another missive from Samir. Awesome.
“Want me to burn it?” Alek asked as I set the mail on my kitchen table and picked up the postcard.
“No, safer to keep them in the iron box behind wards,” I said. Alek was the only one I had told about the postcards, mostly because he’d been there when the first arrived in the mail a mere week after the mess with the warlock.
This one was like the others, only my address and name on it, no message. Just a stylized S. Creepy fucker. The first had been of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. The next showed up a couple weeks later and had a picture of a canal in Venice. The third was another three weeks after that with a bunch of castle ruins from some place in Scotland.
This was the fourth. It was just a photo of a bunch of trees, no small text on the back telling me where it was taken. It looked weirdly familiar, however. I pushed away the shiver that crept over my skin. There were conifer forests like that all over the world. No reason to think it was from around here.
“Sometimes I wish he’d just show up and get this over with,” I muttered. I didn’t really. Samir would crush me. I was getting stronger, but I had no illusions that I could beat a sorcerer who’d been around since the days when Brutus stabbed a guy named Caesar.
“Every minute he doesn’t is good for you,” Alek said. “You did well today; you are getting stronger, learning new ways to control your powers.”
I smiled up at him. He always somehow knew the right thing to say, even if sometimes I wanted to punch him in the face for saying uncomfortable truths. It was Alek who had postulated that Samir hadn’t shown up yet because he was uncertain of me. Alek had a point. I had gone dark for twenty-five years, running and hiding and barely using magic. Samir had almost caught up to me a couple times, but I’d slipped away from him and stayed hidden.
Until three months ago. Then I’d blazed onto the magical map. Alek pointed out that I’d appeared here, near the River of No Return wilderness which had one of the strongest networks of ley lines running beneath its millions of unbroken wild acreage, and living in a town full of shape shifters and other magical beings. From Samir’s perspective, this whole thing probably looked like some kind of trap. Why else would I stop hiding if I weren’t ready for him, right?
Alek’s logic made a certain kind of sense. Samir was arrogant enough to believe his calculated approach to life was the way anyone would approach things. He wasn’t the type to risk his life for anyone, so he would never understand or conceive of the choice I’d made three months ago. I could have stayed hidden, but friends would have died, and I would have had to leave the life I’d built here.
I was done running. Hence the whole training to use my powers and pretending that if I did, I could win against Samir.
I knew I couldn’t. But I didn’t have the heart to tell Alek or Harper or the twins that. They believed in me; the least I could do was try to go down fighting when the time came.
“I’m taking a shower,” I said. “Joining me?”
“No,” Alek said with regret in his voice. “I’m going to try calling Carlos again.” His handsome brow creased in worry.
It was Sunday, which meant he usually called and talked to his mentor and friend, a fellow Justice named Carlos. It had been two weeks since Carlos and he had talked, however, and Alek was worried. I hoped he reached him tonight. A Justice going silent was probably not a good sign.
I came out into the living room after showering the last of the paint out of my waist-length black hair and cuddled up to Alek on the couch. I knew from the worry in his blue eyes even before I asked that he hadn’t reached Carlos.
“Nothing?”
“No,” he said, sliding an arm around my shoulders. “Nothing.”
“Wouldn’t the Council tell you if there was something to worry about?” I leaned into him, tucking my head against his broad chest, and breathed in his vanilla-musk scent.
“Perhaps,” he said softly. He shook his head and took a steadying breath. “I called for pizza while you were in the shower. Half all meat, half pepperoni and pineapple.”
It was a sign of how comfortable we were getting with each other that he knew what to get me, especially considering he thought fruit on pizza was an abomination. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, the comfort level or the whole aversion to delicious pineapple.
“You still coming to game on Thursday? You aren’t going to dodge it again, right? We’re down a man ‘cause Steve has that family thing.” We’d been trying to get Alek to game with us for months. I’d broken him in to video games, but we’d yet to get dice into his hands.
He sighed. “I’ll be there,” he said, nuzzling my hair and sliding his hands under my teeshirt.
Which was when someone knocked on the door.
“Pizza!” Alek said, grinning as I pushed my teeshirt back down.
“I’m gonna kill that guy for his timing,” I muttered.
Alek opened the door, but it wasn’t the pizza man. Instead a tall, wiry man stood there, his eyes sunken and tired looking in his nut-brown face, but his iris’s were still the moss green I remembered and his thick black hair was still cropped close to his skull. Just as it had been when I’d last seen him, over thirty years before.