The Chaos Jar, page 1
part #5 of Blood Magic Series
THE CHAOS JAR
Blood Magic: Book 5
A Series in the Makeshift Wizard Universe
By
JT Lawrence
MJ Kraus
© 2019 Muonic Press Inc
www.jt-lawrence.com
www.MikeKrausBooks.com
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, without the permission in writing from the author.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Blood Magic: Book 6
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Chapter One
Earth, Air, Water
The new captain of the Scorpions yanked my cuffed hands toward the door.
He was going to personally accompany me to the Black Tower after his officers found the Council-prohibited vial of voodoo serum, or Spiritus Morbus, in my apartment. A man in uniform bagged up my wand and my crossbow while another pushed a struggling Gizmo into a police-issue animal carrier. The carrier was the epitome of depression: a gray plastic cage. I hated seeing Gizmo’s little pink nose behind the door as it snapped shut. His nervous eyes tracked the strangers as they invaded our home.
Not satisfied with confiscating my mother’s silver wand, Musubarin stripped me of my bike-summoning ring, my father’s pentacle ring, the Belore Dragon’s Eye amulet, the silver bullet star charm from Darick, and Lou’s djinn stone. They all went into the same bag. I stood there, bereft.
Musubarin tugged at me again, and the silver handcuffs bit into my wrists.
“Come on,” he said. “There’s nothing left for you here.”
My heart pounded. Would this be the last time I ever saw my apartment?
I wasn’t particularly attached to my material possessions, but I was attached to the ghost that haunted them. My body felt heavy, and sick with dread. I was completely vulnerable without my wand or weapon. I was barefoot, and I felt practically naked in my thin cotton Rocking the Realm T-shirt and sleep shorts.
“I’m in my pajamas,” I said. “I need to change.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Shoes, then,” I said. “And a coat.”
Tilexon didn’t know my coat was magical, or he would have impounded it with the rest. He looked impatient, and then gave the officer standing behind me a tight nod. The cop went to my room and brought back my boots. Then, un-cuffing one wrist at a time, he helped me into my trench coat. I immediately felt fortified, and I thanked him.
“Put her in the car,” said Musubarin, but I wouldn’t budge until he understood the precariousness of the situation.
“Tilexon,” I said. “You don’t understand what’s happening. It’s not about me, or you. If we don’t stop the Silvano Clan, the Realm is going to burn.”
“I don’t have time for your little conspiracy theories,” he said.
“They already have the HighFire Crown,” I said. “That’s one of the three elemental fragments they need to ignite the fire that will destroy the Realm.”
Musubarin sneered at me. “You’re even crazier than I thought.”
“Earth, air, water,” I said. “When those fragments are brought back together the dark magic will catch fire and destroy everything.”
“Can you actually hear yourself?” he asked. “You’re certifiable.”
“I know it sounds crackers,” I said. “But I’m telling you it’s true.”
I think I did well by leaving out the part where my resident ghost had communicated this message to me by slamming the ancient red hardcover to the floor.
Musubarin sighed and crossed his arms. “What are these fragments?” he asked. “Where are they?”
“The book doesn’t say.”
“Ah.” He was so patronizing I felt like kicking him in the toolbox again, but I restrained myself.
“You can’t disseminate that kind of information,” I said. “It would be too dangerous. They’re too powerful. Everyone would be searching for them.”
“I’ve had enough of your ridiculous distractions,” snapped Musubarin. “We’re leaving.”
“I’ll show you the book.”
“The book?” he said. “I don’t have time for this.”
“It’s right there.” I gestured at my bookshelf, which was just a couple of steps away from where we were standing.
Tilexon sighed again, then snapped his fingers in an arrogant way. I strode over and grabbed the red book, memorizing the author’s name as I did so.
Griffin Zolastaro.
It sounded more like a stage name for a magician than an academic who spent his life studying vampire lore.
With my back turned to the irate captain, I also managed to pull out Zeel’s notebook, which I secretly slipped into my coat pocket. Zeel was the dark arts courier delivery man; a goblin who serviced the vendors at the EverShade night market. His book—which I had managed to snatch off him using my feral quick-and-dirty magic—was brimming with the names and addresses of hundreds of people who had bought Council-banned substances. It was, for someone like Tilexon, a veritable gold mine.
I turned and passed the captain the red hardcover, opened to the relevant page. He took it from me with a mildly disgusted look on his face, as if I had handed him a week-old taco.
“I wouldn’t have believed it, either,” I said. “But I’ve seen firsthand how potent the magic of the HighFire Crown is. And it seems to get more powerful each day.”
I gestured at the plant that was in the process of swallowing my kitchen whole, and Tilexon blinked at me, then went back to the book. He flipped the pages and frowned.
“I’m pretty sure the Crown is the earth fragment,” I said. “So we need to secure the air and water fragments, but I don’t know what those are, or how to find them.”
Not even Gizmo would be able to help me find them if I didn’t know what I was looking for. The captain rubbed his lips and chin, and for a moment I thought he’d do the right thing. I thought he might see the big picture, remove my handcuffs, and perhaps even try to help me find the magical items we needed to stop Acheron and the Silvano Clan from decimating the Realm.
I was wrong.
Chapter Two
Trash & Glitter
Captain Musubarin pushed me roughly out the door of my apartment and into the mouth of the Swift. An officer accompanied us—the kind one who had helped me put my coat on—and as we dropped from the top of the tower to the basement, my stomach fell, too.
Tilexon pushed me into the back seat of his bullet-proof Scorpion-issue SUV and when he reached over me to click in my safety belt I looked away, out of the tinted window. It was too intimate a gesture for a man I despised, and I hated being so close to him and his freshly shaved skin that smelled of tea tree oil. The accompanying officer sat in the front passenger seat, with Gizmo in the animal carrier on his lap. Musubarin climbed in the driver’s seat and slammed the door closed.
“What are you planning, Tilexon?” I asked. “What is your end game?”
“Justice,” he said. “You, in prison.”
“I don’t deserve to be there. You know that.”
“You flout the laws as if they don’t apply to you,” he said, his knuckle-bones showing white on the steering wheel. “You think you can do anything. Get away with anything. Well, I’m going to bring an end to that. You think you’re a renegade—”
“The Realm needs renegades,” I said.
“You think you’re a renegade but really you’re just a little girl who can’t stay out of trouble.”
Filius canis, I thought. What a son of a bitch. His words shouldn’t have hurt me, but they did. Some people say I’m the best wizard detective in the city, but a small part of me will always be that scared little girl.
I sat there, fuming, and then realized I was wasting my time being angry. Thoughts of revenge would be a lot more constructive. I would escape Musubarin if it was the last thing I ever did, and he would die knowing that he could never have me. I knew that my slipperiness infuriated him. I grew up as a feral wizard in a mean city; one of the first things I learned was how to be difficult to pin down.
We stopped at a traffic light and I looked around. The Jozi streets looked post-apocalyptic; littered with burning wa
“She doesn’t see us,” I said, and both of the men glanced back at me, then to where I was looking. The woman in the floral dress kept walking. I waved at her, but there was no sign of acknowledgment. Then there was a bump of body on metal as she walked straight into the side of the car, and melted down to the ground. The officer in the passenger seat clicked his safety belt off and opened his door, carefully putting Gizmo’s cage on the floor in front of him. He jumped out of the vehicle.
“Ma’am?” He walked around to my side and helped the woman up. “Ma’am?” he said again, holding her limp body up and trying to look into her eyes, which he levered open with his fingers. That’s when I saw him flinch, just a little, and he let go of her eyelids.
“What is it?” asked Tilexon. He was impatient to get going. Every minute that I wasn’t locked up in a cell made him feel intensely uncomfortable. I stared at his neck, and saw that his body was as tense as a bowstring drawn back and ready to shoot.
“What is it?” asked Musubarin again, this time through clenched teeth. He had seen the man flinch, too.
“Nothing,” lied the officer.
I knew he was lying, because I had seen it, too. The whites of the woman’s eyes were bloodshot, and her irises were silver. The officer hoisted her body higher, and began to walk around the SUV. He opened the door opposite me and began easing the woman in. Her legs were dirty and bruised, and her ponytail was loose, close to falling out of its hair elastic altogether.
“Tshabalala,” Musubarin said, grimacing. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Tshabalala met his gaze. “We can’t just leave her here,” he said.
I stared at the unconscious woman for the rest of the trip, trying to figure out what was wrong with her and the other people I had seen with the same blank faces. I could sense she was untouched and something that Lysander had said to me a few hours ago rang in my ears.
“When you blew up that lab it forced the Clan to think of a new strategy to recruit soldiers. A much more dangerous design.”
Musubarin and Tshabalala tried to drop the woman off at a hospital that was on our way. Injured people milled around the entrance, but there was little point. The medical staff’s parking lot was empty and the entrance doors were locked.
“Something terrible is going to happen,” Lysander had said, right before I slammed the door in his face.
Moose ground the car’s gears and kept driving.
Once we arrived at HQ, Tshabalala radioed for assistance while Tilexon wrenched me out of the SUV.
“When’s the next Onyx transfer van arriving?” I asked.
“Don’t get smart,” he snapped.
Of course, there would be no more transfers to the port. Not until the Ember Isles ferry was replaced, and it’s not like you can get those shipped overnight from eBay. I wondered how he was planning on getting me to the Black Tower when the blown-up pieces of the ferry had drifted to the ocean floor.
“Sleeping with the fishes,” Don Vito would have said.
There was a chopping sound in the air, and soon a large black military helicopter was slicing the sky above us. It landed expertly on the top of the Scorpion HQ building.
“Best hurry up,” said Musubarin. “Our lift is here.”
Chapter Three
Violent Magic
Captain Musubarin grabbed my arm and forced me into the building. Nothing about the man was gentle: he smashed through the double doors at the entrance and through the security turnstiles, slamming his access card against the sensor. When the receptionist greeted him, he just grunted in her direction. I hated the feel of his hot palm on my skin, hated that he was allowed to touch me just because of the badge pinned to his chest. Being unarmed—and in my pajamas—added to my sense of powerlessness.
I thought he’d take me right up to the top of the building and force me into the chopper, but instead he pressed the elevator button for level two, which is the floor I knew; the floor where Morgan’s office was. The heavy metal doors closed and I looked Musubarin in the eye, trying to figure him out. Trying to find the source of his bitter hatred of me. I mean, I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea—introverted, jaded, cynical, reckless, damaged, with a touch of crazy—but I didn’t understand the depth and intensity of his dislike for me. From the beginning he had a chip on his shoulder the size of Gallanrock, and I didn’t know why. There was no point in asking him. I had already figured out that he was as good at lying as he was at making women feel weak.
“Look at us,” I said. “Again. Why are you always trying to get me alone in an elevator?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he sneered.
“I miss that troll glamour of yours,” I said. “It was an improvement.”
“Such a smart mouth, Knight,” he said. “Do you kiss your pet weasel with that mouth?”
Tilexon mentioning Gizmo made my stomach flutter with fear.
“He’s a ferret,” I said in a softer voice. I didn’t mind antagonizing Musubarin when my comfort was at stake, but I didn’t want him to take his anger out on Gizmo.
“Ferret, weasel,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Or, at least, it won’t matter.”
The flutter in my stomach turned into a fist.
“What do you mean?”
“What?” He feigned innocence. “I don’t mean anything.”
I swallowed hard. “Musubarin,” I said, raising my voice. “What do you mean it won’t matter?”
“What did you think would happen to it?” he said. “Did you think we’d let you take it along to the Black Tower?”
“I—”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like there?” His eyes were burning into mine. “Do you think they allow pets?”
“I have friends who can look after him for me,” I said. “The owner of The Copper Cog and Ale.”
Tilexon raised his eyebrows at me then shook his head as if he were pretending to be sorry. “Ah, shame. You haven’t heard.”
“I have heard. I know the Hammerskins have annexed the place.”
“If, by annex, you mean burn to the ground, then, yes, The Copper Cog has been annexed.”
“No,” I said, not breathing. “You’re lying.”
“Wish I was,” he said. “It was a good little place. Good beer. Now it’s all a blackened mess. We drove past it a few hours ago. It was still smoking.”
I could feel my heart crumble in my chest.
“We had to send a team to investigate. Make sure those devious dwarfs weren’t trying to grab the insurance money.”
“The Fernaks would never do that. Ferra Fernak has more common decency in her little finger than you have in your entire body.”
It was a cliché, I knew, but it was true.
“Besides, they’d never burn it down. The Copper Cog was everything to them.”
It was everything to me, too.
My body jerked, as if it wanted to dash out of the building and rush to see Ferra. The elevator doors pinged, and Musubarin pulled me out and along the beige-carpeted passage.
“The inspector said it wasn’t caused by arson, so you can relax. Your dwarf friends won’t be going to jail any time soon. We’re not charging the Hammerskins, either. Apparently you can’t arrest someone for being stupid, which, personally, I think is a downright shame.”
“The Hammerskins burnt it down?”
“Not on purpose. They left one of the gas stoves on while they were sleeping. Then someone woke up and lit a cigarette. As I said, you can’t arrest them for being stupid. Besides, the orc who lit the cigarette got his punishment. They’re still scraping bits of him off the floor.”
“But you could arrest them for trespassing,” I said. “For stealing land.”
“Nope,” said Musubarin. “Council mandate. We’re to let the orcs govern themselves.”
