Bright Is Her Sight_An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure Read online

  Bright Is Her Sight

  School of Necessary Magic Book Two

  Judith Berens

  Martha Carr

  Michael Anderle

  Bright Is Her Sight (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 © 2018 Judith Berens, Martha Carr and Michael Anderle

  Cover by Fantasy Book Design

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  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, June 2018

  The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-18 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

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Other Revelation of Oriceran Universe Books

  Books by Michael Anderle

  Connect with The Authors

  Bright Is Her Sight

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Daniel Weigert

  Mary Morris

  James Caplan

  Kelly O'Donnell

  John Ashmore

  Kelly Bowerman

  Peter Manis

  Larry Omans

  Paul Westman

  If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!

  Dedications

  From Martha

  To everyone who still believes in magic

  and all the possibilities that holds.

  To all the readers who make this

  entire ride so much fun.

  And to my son, Louie and so many wonderful friends who remind me all the time of what

  really matters and how wonderful

  life can be in any given moment.

  From Michael

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  1

  The wind blew softly down the dark and empty streets of Charlottesville. Remnants of Christmas and New Years were still spattered across the landscape as the locals held onto the last few minutes of the season, reveling in the warmth and comfort of the holidays.

  Snow was piled high on either side of the cleared sidewalks that passed the shops that populated the downtown. There was only one light still on along the street—the flame of a lantern flickered outside the Brewery Tavern. The bar was shadowed from the outside world with glamours, welcoming only the magical.

  The Charlottesville magical community prided themselves on keeping their magic positive, making sure those who dabbled in dark magic didn’t stay too long or cause trouble.

  The night was like any other. The magical folks pulled themselves away from their warm homes and headed out to the Tavern for laughs and long discussions on the new place of magic in the world. Displays of magic whirled through the Tavern as others clapped and laughed out loud—wizards’ and elves’ idea of karaoke.

  The barkeep wiped the bar with a wet rag, laughing at a joke someone told at the other end. Long wooden tables were spread throughout the tavern, and all the wood matched from floor to ceiling. It had been there for over a hundred years, built when the magical folk decided they needed somewhere to gather. The owner had brought strong milkwood bark from Oriceran to build the place, and it would probably still be standing long after the gates opened again thousands of years from now.

  The town was a stop for tourists, and for parents dropping off their kids at the School of Necessary Magic and the nearby University of Virginia. They usually went by for a quick bite on their way out of town.

  A group of strangers sat in a poorly-lit corner of the bar, keeping to themselves. No one paid them much attention.

  Four dark wizards huddled closely around a table with beers in front of them, whispering about the next stage in a very old plan.

  “This town hasn’t seen the swish of a dark wand in twenty years,” Philoneus whispered, keeping the wand firmly gripped in his hand under the table.

  Tyrian, who was across from him, shook his head. The man was a tenth-generation Oriceran dark wizard. “They have seen it, they just don’t know they’ve seen it. That’s all the better for our cause. Would you rather face a military that’s just returned from war or a military that’s never seen one?”

  Lingus, sitting next to Tyrian, scoffed. “Military. More like a bunch of preschool teachers with wands. You can’t seriously believe these people could be a threat? Every trail is light magic.”

  The fourth man stayed silent, sitting back against the wall with the hood of his cloak shadowing his face. He watched the other magical beings walking around the pub, talking and laughing, having no idea what they might face in the coming days. The shrouded man was named Balthasar, and he was from the dark families of long ago. Families that had seen their fair share of war between the dark and the light.

  “I didn’t actually mean they were military. It was a comparison… Never mind, you don’t get it.”

  “I get it,” Lingus hissed quietly. “I’m just looking forward to seeing the surprise on their faces when things don’t turn out exactly how they want, and their perfect little town gets shaken up.”

  He leaned against the wall bumping his head on Christmas garlands still covering the Tavern walls. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at it and rubbed the glitter off his nose. He hated human traditions and had no idea why the magical would celebrate them. He found Christmas to be more annoying than most.

  Philoneus shrugged and downed the rest of his pint. “I personally am excited to see the light magic get a little workout. I think magical beings have become too comfortable and complacent. It will remind them that they don’t belong here, and that their rules and happy feelings are just a bullshit mask.”

  “We didn’t come here to start a war against the humans,” Balthasar grumbled. “There are bigger things afoot. Things that involve all of us. You need to get your head in the game and stop worrying about the insignificant people. That will sort itself out over time.”

  The others grew quiet for a moment, intimidated by Balthasar and the history and power he carried. They weren’t willing to speak up or even ask him questions about things they didn’t understand. He wasn’t the leader of the group but he was the eldest, and he took control whenever he saw the need—which was often.<
br />
  Philoneus cleared his throat and finished his beer, glancing at the barkeep. The place was a lot busier than when they had first come in, and none of them wanted to be questioned by the local light-magical beings. He set his cup down on the table and leaned back.

  “Do you know what I have been wondering?”

  “When all of this will happen?” Lingus asked.

  “Well, yes, but mostly, whatever happened to that teenage elf Izzie and her parents? The last I heard they got into a battle in an alley in their home town, and the next minute they had disappeared. No trace. Nothing at all. Their home was still intact and most of their things were still there, but there was no sign of them.”

  Lingus muffled a belch. “Hopefully dead somewhere.”

  “Hopefully not,” Balthasar interjected. “They are important…you know that. They may not be the most agreeable beings, but they are needed. They will show soon enough, and as far as the girl, we have feelers out for her. She couldn’t have gone far, and I suspect the school has something to do with that.”

  “She is a dangerous entity, or she would be if she were given the proper training,” Philoneus added. “They said she fought like her parents—strong, powerful, and full of light energy. They said she fought like those...”

  “No need to say the words,” Balthasar growled, putting his hand up. “We know she has untapped potential, but she also has the potential to burn herself out.”

  “I’ve heard some interesting rumors,” Tyrian whispered. “The kind that erases memories, hides children, and attempts to keep secrets that shouldn’t be kept.” He rubbed his hands together, sneering.

  “Leave the rumors where they belong,” Balthasar chastised. “In the back alley. We only work on knowns, and right now nothing is known about Izzie and her parents’ whereabouts. It’s funny though… Through the years I have seen it happen over and over. The truth inevitably comes out, and not always in a controlled manner. You can be sure that when it does we will hear about it, and that is when we act.”

  Tyrian frowned and put his hands on his lap, looking around the bar. “This is a hideous place. No proper pictures, only things from that school.”

  “’That school’ is an important part of our plan,” Philoneus reminded them. “A place where the secrets are kept, while unsuspecting students march around believing they are safe from harm and from the dark. It’s almost comical to me.”

  “The headmistress isn’t one to be trifled with,” Lingus pointed out. “That’s Mara Berens, grandmother to the Jasper Elf Leira Berens. Leira is part of the group that caused half the dark families to be killed off in a single year. I doubt she would stand by and allow dark magic to harm her grandmother. The grandmother is extremely powerful, which makes me think there is some validity to the secrets Tyrian heard. There are very few magical beings who could properly pull off a mind-erasing spell, and she is definitely one of them.”

  “Mara Berens is nothing more than an old elf hell-bent on bringing good to the world by working with the kids to strengthen their magic for the US government. Not even our kind. Besides, she’s in her golden years, I can promise you that.”

  “Right now, we need to protect the identity of our sleeper agent,” Balthasar pointed out. “That person is the key to this whole thing. He’s a student at the school, unaware of the place he holds in our future. Unfortunately, I can’t just go marching into the place demanding to see him. The headmistress, as well as the Fixer, would make sure we wouldn’t be able to come back.”

  “The magic was done long ago when the sleeper was just a young boy.” Tyrian sighed. “That small speck of darkness was placed in him and it grows every day, yet he knows nothing about it. I still don’t understand how you can’t feel the darkness in yourself.” He pounded on his chest. “I can feel it buzzing through me. Makes it easy to point out the light magic when it tries to creep inside me.”

  Lingus shook his head. “The only reason you know that is because you embrace the darkness. If you were just some regular Joe Magical, no interest in the dark, never putting yourself in a place with the dark, you wouldn’t have a clue what it felt like. He might be a bit mischievous or curious, but that’s as far as I can see it going.”

  “That won’t last forever, though,” Philoneus pointed out. “He can’t ignore the dark. It won’t be ignored, even if it’s surrounded by the light. Right now he might be shielded from it and have no knowledge of what is lurking inside, but in time that will change. The dark will fight back, want to grow and spread out, and he will be unprepared for it.”

  “That is why it is imperative that we find him as soon as we can. We didn’t come here for the beer or the company. We came here to track him down and figure out who and what he is.”

  Balthasar leaned forward. “I wouldn’t be too concerned that you didn’t find him this time around. It was our first time out, and now we know his approximate location. He will find himself alone and vulnerable one day. He will be unsuspecting and off-guard, and we will be there to bring him under our control.”

  “We can’t wait forever,” Lingus barked, pulling back when Balthasar gave him an angry look. “I’m just saying that we can’t stop looking. We can’t stop planning. We would be fools to think he would just land in our hands. Someone around him will see that spark of dark, and when they do it will start the ball rolling—if it hasn’t already begun.”

  Philoneus shook his head. “I don’t feel him like that. I don’t feel him fighting the darkness as he would be if he knew the truth. No, I think the boy is still oblivious, and so are the ones around him. Even this Mara Berens.”

  “You may not feel the boy, but I feel the pull,” Tyrian whispered harshly. “The time is drawing closer every minute we sit here. Hopefully, when it happens, it will draw those we have been looking for out of hiding.”

  Philoneus nodded. “Like Izzie and her parents.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And many others we are searching for.” Balthasar smirked. “There are those who have retreated to the shadows. Who know our power is growing, and fear the day that is approaching. One thing I do know about the light is that those who practice its magic have courage that will bring them out even in the most fearful of times. They are silly creatures, needing to help in times of struggle. They will want to fight for their people. They won’t sit in the shadows when it happens. They will come ready to fight, not knowing that we will be there to face them.”

  “We followed that trail for miles, logging every streak of his dark magic, and it led us where? The edge of this small town, where it just disappeared into thin air.” Lingus slammed his hand on the table. “I need a beer.”

  Balthasar looked at him and Lingus sat back in his seat. “The end of that trail told us something very valuable. It showed us that the boy is at the school. That is where the trail ends.”

  Balthasar’s rumble drew the attention of others in the bar. The four men sat back, glancing around at the prying eyes. They knew it wouldn’t be long before someone sensed the darkness in them. Balthasar pulled his robes closed and stood up, slipping his wand inside his sleeve. The others followed suit, setting their glasses on the bar and looking down as they walked to the door. The place was silent behind them, and they knew they were being watched.

  The cold winter air hit all four of them, and they pulled their cloaks’ hoods up over their heads. Carefully they started to make their way through the small town. Balthasar could still sense the watching eyes, and when he paused, the others stopped behind him. They heard the shuffle of feet behind them on the icy streets.

  “Hey,” a voice called. “Wait a minute.”

  The dark wizards turned, staring down the street at several local wizards and witches. The large man in the front was dressed in plaid shirt and jeans, held his wand close to his side and a look of distrust on his face. To his right were two wizards dressed in light robes, golden ties around their waists. To the left were two witches dressed just the same.


  “We didn’t recognize you,” the man called.

  “Nor should you have,” Tyrian replied.

  Balthasar smirked, letting his wand drop from his sleeve. The locals shifted in their stances, lifting their wands slightly. The air was still, with a soft drift of snow falling from the sky.

  “Why do we play these games?” Balthasar laughed. “You sensed our dark magic.”

  “You’re right, and we don’t want it here.”

  “That, my light friend, you have no choice about,” Balthasar growled as he twisted his wand in the air.

  Dark streams of magic shot from the tip, directed toward the locals. The man in the front swished his wand quickly, creating a one-shot shield for him and the others with him. The dark magic hissed as it hit the shield, evaporating into the air. The locals began to throw shining white orbs through the air but the dark wizards slapped them away, retaliating with their own blazing balls of darkness.

  Back and forth the magical beings sent streaks of light, creating a wave of color reminiscent of the Northern Lights. Balthasar growled loudly and reached his wand far back before sending a stream of dark magic toward the local at the front. It struck the light wizard in the shoulder and knocked him to the ground. Balthasar laughed, but only for a moment since the man climbed back to his feet. The locals cast faster and harder, sending swirls of light buzzing past the dark wizards’ heads.