Coven Codex_From the Federal Witch Series Read online

  Coven Codex

  Standard of Honor

  Taki Drake

  T S Paul

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Legal Stuff

  Chapter 1 – No Pain, No Gain

  Chapter 2 – Making Ends Meet

  Chapter 3 – Plans and Logistics

  Chapter 4 – More Plans

  Chapter 5 – Big Town Woes

  Chapter 6 - Consequences

  Chapter 7 – Curious Events

  Chapter 8 – Complications

  Chapter 9 – Positioning

  Chapter 10 – Deals

  Chapter 11 – Deal of a Lifetime

  Chapter 12 – Setting the Stage

  Chapter 13 – Casting Call

  Chapter 14 – Opening Night

  Chapter 15 – Show Time

  Chapter 16 – Stalked

  Chapter 17 – Threads that Bind

  Chapter 18 – Street Fight

  Chapter 19 – Take Off

  Chapter 20 – On the Road

  Chapter 21 – Warm Bites

  Chapter 22 – On the Road Again

  Chapter 23 – Unexpected Consequences

  Chapter 24 – Learning Hurts

  Chapter 25 – Detours

  Chapter 26 – Rush to Judgment

  Chapter 27 – Maze Game

  Chapter 28 – Serious Game Play

  Chapter 29 – Rest and Quick Recovery

  Chapter 30 – Battle Nerves

  Chapter 31 – Scouts and Spies

  Chapter 32 – Battle Dawn

  Chapter 33 – Desperate Fight

  Chapter 34 – Wards and Borders

  Chapter 35 – Danger Delayed

  Chapter 36 – Settling In

  Chapter 37 – Traveling Near and Far

  Chapter 38 – Donations and Volunteers

  Chapter 39 – Unintended Consequences

  Author Notes

  Author - Taki Drake

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my husband. His support and devotion have carried us through some pretty bad times. His ongoing belief that whatever I choose to do is the best decision at the time has enriched my life more than I can say. Thank you, John. Thank you for your love and support, and being there in my life.

  This book also carries a dedication to a few other important people. The entire group of crazy writers in Phoenix Prime deserve top billing. Their encouragement and creative sparks inspire me every day.

  Finally, this book is dedicated to the peerless Ds. They encourage, exhort, and occasionally apply pompom-concealed tasers to authors in need of their own special brand of support. To the women that do everything from development editing to brainstorming, thank you! I wish I would have met you earlier – but then we would have needed a bigger bail fund! MUCH LARGER!!

  Legal Stuff

  Copyright © Taki Drak and TS Paul, All Rights Reserved.

  Reproduction of any kind is strictly prohibited unless written permission granted by the editor of the anthology and the individual author.

  Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No actual Unicorns, Demons, Fae, Dragons, Witches, Spirits, or Gods were harmed in the making of this book. Promise.

  The phrases ©Badger Hole Bar and ©Badger Hole Bar Universe are creations and property of author Taki Drake and are used here with her permission.

  The phrases Federal Witch Series and Federal Witch Universe are creations and property of author TS Paul and are used here with his permission.

  Editing by Diane Velasquez and Dorene Johnson

  Chapter 1 – No Pain, No Gain

  Wham! A pained breath exploded out of Zhanna’s mouth as she slammed into the ground. Before she could even draw one more tortured inhalation, a boot against her side flipped her over to roll again and again until she crashed into a rock. Despite the pain in her side, the young woman erupted explosively from the ground, shoving off with one hand, while holding a small shield in the other. She was off balance, and out of position as she scrambled to her feet. Gasping for breath, she wrenched her body around to watch the man that was coming after her.

  All that could be seen of him were his narrowed eyes over the top of his shield. The rest of his face was concealed behind the barrier and his other hand steady on his sword. As he advanced, Zhanna was aware that he was staring at her intently, watching her eyes and aware of her shoulders. An expert swordsman alert for the indicators of potential movement. Feeling like a trapped mouse, Zhanna twitched her body to the left attempting to tempt him into a misstep. It didn’t work.

  She froze with indecision for a second. WHAM!

  Her vision swam with lights as she was caught from the rear by another assailant. Dammit! She had lost situational awareness. Now her shoulder hurt on top of everything else! << I’ve got to stop thinking in the middle of a battle,>> she thought just before another blow on her shield almost wrenched it off of her arm.

  She was on the defensive, pinned between two opponents. What was she going to do!?

  <>

  The urgency of the yell in her head caused Zhanna to make a dash for a better position. She chose her direction in a split second and ran, not through the inviting opening between the two men but up the rocks and over. Coming just a split second too late behind her, the young Witch heard a sword crash down onto the rocks.

  “Shit!” The roar of an outraged fighter split the air in a snarl of sound and fury.

  Zhanna managed a soft chortle as she gasped for air. She crawled and scrambled up the rest of the rocks, finding a position where her back was protected, and where her opponents could not come at her from all sides. Just for this one second, she had the freedom to take a deep breath. That respite was not destined to last for long.

  The two men that were attacking her approached from different directions. They were about 100° apart, and the angle was just wide enough that she couldn’t defend against, or even watch, both of them at the same time. A small quiet part of her tucked far back in her mind, could appreciate the skill with which they were conducting the attack. The rest of her that was sweaty, aching, and would have bruises from head to toe tomorrow, didn’t find it impressive at all.

  The two men seemed to glide across the loose rocks toward her. Surefooted, well-balanced, they made her feel like a gawky child. Telling herself to focus, the Witch set her stance and waited.

  Her opponents advanced to within ten feet of her. Staring at her intently for a few seconds, the taller of the two men straightened up and pulled his helm off. It was Stefan, looking oddly pleased.

  “Not bad at all,” he said. “Your footwork could use a lot of improvement, but you’re getting better at not thinking in the middle of the fight. We almost had you, but you recovered well and got yourself into a defensible position.”

  The second man chimed in, “That roll and scramble actually were really good moves. I was waiting for you to take the opening, which would’ve left you open to attacks from both sides. You are definitely starting to develop instincts for the fight.”

  “Thank you, Mikhail. I knew that if it were that easy looking you would’ve had something nasty waiting for me. I just couldn’t think clearly of what else to do so I thought I’d get out from the middle.”

  Stefan responded, “That’s exactly what battle instinct is, Zhanna. Operating on your training and feelings is far faster than trying to think your way through so
mething in a life or death situation.”

  “I know, but it still was very hard not to try to use Magic in any of this.”

  Mikhail gave a short laugh, and answered her, “The point of this was to teach you how to fight when your Magic is worn out. Magic users are very susceptible to exhaustion. When that happens, you have to fall back on your other skills. If you don’t have strong skills in actual weapon use, you will be at a significant disadvantage.”

  “I understand that and appreciate you guys drilling me on this. The only thing that I would change is…”

  “What? What would you change?”

  “I wouldn’t have you enjoy beating me with your swords so much.”

  <<<>>>

  It was a long walk home, and Zhanna felt every single step of it. Mikhail and Stefan had kept her drilling long past the point that she felt able to do anything effective. That was actually part of their strategy, teaching her that no matter how tired she was she had to be able to fight.

  It had been challenging not to rely on her Magic at all. There were times that Zhanna would have tried to use her Magic, but between the fighters pushing on her and her Familiar, Dascha, nagging her, the young Witch had been forced into practicing precisely what her teachers had planned.

  The sun was starting to go down and the day was getting a little bit cooler. Zhanna was dragging her weary, sweat -soaked body back toward her grandmother’s home, hoping that there would be time for a thorough wash up before dinner. Her senses were numbed by the tiredness that dragged her arms and legs into slow motion, so Dascha’s urgent alert was the first warning she had of other visitors.

  <>

  Zhanna didn’t have any chance to respond because as she came abreast of an unusually thick bush on the left-hand side of the path, a small, brown-furred creature timidly stuck a tiny, horned head out and murmured her name.

  Coming to an abrupt halt, Zhanna looked down at the tiny thing, noticing that it was injured and favoring its front left paw. Peering over its shoulder, the furless form of an even smaller creature could be seen as it held tightly to the branches of the concealing brush. With pale skin that had the look of translucency, Zhanna could clearly see the cuts and bruises that marred its pale green skin. Her tiredness forgotten, the young Witch was immediately on the alert. Her right hand went to the handle of her sword, and her left started to glow as she automatically gathered energy for either an offensive or defensive spell.

  Her voice was gentle, however as she addressed the small creatures. She didn’t want to frighten them any further, and she could tell that they were hurt and afraid. She said, “Yes, I am Zhanna. How may I help the Hidden Folk?”

  Its voice a whisper, the small raggedy-eared brown creature responded in a voice that was so faint that Zhanna went down on her knees next to it so that she could hear clearly. It said, “Some of the bad ones have awakened. They walked the land and are destroying our nests and our food. We beg of you, on your oath to the land, please help us.”

  The young Witch didn’t hesitate for a split second, responding, “Of course, I will help to the best of my ability. I know that you are tired and hurt, and I will need to have more information to figure out the best way of assisting you. I would invite you back to my home to rest safely and be fed.”

  There was a rustling in the brush and an agitated murmur of many small voices. Cocking his head to one side, the little spokesman for the group listened intently for a moment before turning to Zhanna and saying, “None of us are brave enough to go into a human’s home. However, we could stay someplace close by if that would be all right with you.”

  “Of course, that would be fine with me. There is a wild and natural garden outside my grandmother’s home. I believe that you would be comfortable there and being close to us would offer some protection. That way you can recover tonight, and we can speak in the morning.”

  Without having to confer with the others, the little creature nodded its head abruptly and jerkily, saying, “Yes, yes. We can do this. It will be much safer, and we won’t have to worry about the danger that comes unannounced in the dark.”

  Dascha’s mental voice slipped into Zhanna’s head gently. Her Familiar’s comment was devoid of its typical snarky tone as she said, << They probably don’t want to be carried so you might want to suggest that they follow us. We can just go slowly as if your exhaustion is making you walk at a pace they can manage. >>

  << Thank you! I wouldn’t have thought of that, and it would have been awkward. >>

  << I thought that’s why you kept me around. Telling you things that you are mentally unable to remember. >>

  Zhanna laughed, gasping in pain as her bruised ribs moved abruptly. << Don’t make me laugh, please! It hurts too much right now. >>

  << Yes, Stefan has really big boots. And apparently, your ribs are very attractive targets. >>

  Once again Zhanna started to laugh and ended with a gasp. Turning back to the waiting creatures, Zhanna suggested, “How about if you follow me back to my grandmother’s house. You will see the garden, and I think you’ll find good places to stay there. If you would like, we can bring out some food that will make it easier for you to rest.”

  A pleased note could be heard over the exhaustion in the little one’s voice as he thanked her and agreed to follow.

  Zhanna added as she turned to make her slow, painful way home, “I am sorry, but I am not moving well right now. Hopefully, it will not be too boring following someone that is moving as slowly as I am.”

  In a mental voice filled with appreciation and pride, Dascha said, << Nicely done, my Witch. Nicely done. >>

  Chapter 2 – Making Ends Meet

  The evening had gone well, and Zhanna was quite pleased with how much the weary little creatures had recovered once they had arrived at her home. The young Witch had sat in the garden, under the starlight and listened intently to the Hidden Folk’s description of those that endangered them.

  Bolormaa was there also, quietly sitting on the edge of the porch steps. The older woman sat motionless for most of the time, quietly taking in the wondrous presence of the Hidden Folk and amazed at how they freely talked with her granddaughter. The seer was also thrilled and amazed to see the creatures that had shyly emerged to huddle around Zhanna.

  It was a battered crew of small and rapidly-moving folk. The entire party consisted of 14 but represented four distinctly different races. There were two of the brown furred creatures, a mated pair. The male, who introduced himself as Noma, was shadowed by his even shyer mate, Tisha. It was evident that he was the leader of the group as he quickly got them sorted out in the best places for their injuries and comfort.

  All of the party was injured. Some of them favored limbs while others had visible cuts and bruises. The strange, almost translucent looking creature that had accompanied Noma to speak initially to Zhanna had been introduced by Noma as Saroc, a Lecikampos. Bustling about, the small trail boss had confided that Saroc was one of another group that had come through the “cold doors” years ago.

  Bolormaa immediately perked up, her interest engaged. Trying very hard not to frighten them, the older woman asked a few questions to determine where those doors might be. The information was scattered and incomplete. All that Noma knew was the general direction they had come after escaping the “evil place” with the doors. To the old seer, it seemed like the location was to the west of them, someplace in Western Europe. Vowing to herself to look into it further, later on, Zhanna’s grandmother stopped talking and began to listen again.

  Zhanna was talking to the group and found herself appalled and amazed in turn. Horrified at the scope of destruction that was happening without having anyone know about it. And amazed at the resiliency and resourcefulness of these tiny creatures who not only had managed to avoid being destroyed but had made their way to her.

  Dascha was the silent third presence from the Russian hous
ehold. For most of the evening, she had listened quietly, but Zhanna could feel her Familiar’s presence in the back of her mind, thinking and making connections. Finally, as the soft and twittering voices of the Hidden Folk started to slow, Dascha said to Zhanna, << They depend on you to help them live. The oath that you swore earlier will compel you to do this on the basis of your Magic. We can prepare, but we can’t delay too long. You will need to reassure them of your response because they are on their last ropes, nearing desperation. >>

  Zhanna said aloud to Noma, speaking as the petitioned to the petitioner, “Thank you for telling me the situation. We are all too tired to do something tonight, and so I would suggest that you will rest more easily, close to the house. In the morning, after I’ve had time to think about how best to prepare, we will get moving as quickly as we can.”

  The small voices of the Hidden Folk could be heard in a big rush of tiny little conversations. The overall tone was somewhat agitated, and Zhanna could tell that they were worried about something.

  “What is it? What is the thing that you’re so worried about?” she asked.

  Noma responded, “There are many of our folk trapped, including most of our children, our younglings. It took us six days to get here, and we worry about every day that it takes to get back.”

  The young Witch straightened up in resolution, saying, “Our trip back will be much faster. And I promise you that we will not delay a single hour longer than necessary.”

  Seeing the fire in her eye and her determined posture, the Hidden Folk seemed to relax. Bolormaa chose that moment to stand up, drawing their attention.

  Taking one slow step down onto the main ground, the old woman suggested, “There are soft grasses and good cover along the foundation of the house. Please be welcome on our land and even in our home. Find the place that makes you most comfortable and rest there in our hospitality. No harm will come to you here unless it goes through all of us.”

  The power of the seer’s guesting vow reverberated in the air and widened the eyes of all. Zhanna looked at her grandmother in surprise, even in shock, never having heard such power in the old woman’s voice.