Shadow Of The Ring: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 16)
Shadow Of The Ring
The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone™ Book Sixteen
Michael Anderle
Shadow Of The Ring (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 © 2019 Michael Anderle
Cover by Andrew Dobell, www.creativeedgestudios.co.uk
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 support@lmbpn.com. 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, February 2019
The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-19 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
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Other series in the Oriceran Universe:
Books by Michael Anderle
Connect with Michael Anderle
Shadow Of The Ring Team
Special Thanks
to Mike Ross
for BBQ Consulting
Jessie Rae’s BBQ - Las Vegas, NV
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Keith Verret
Diane L. Smith
James Caplan
John Ashmore
Jeff Eaton
Kelly O’Donnell
Peter Manis
Daniel Weigert
Misty Roa
Angel LaVey
Micky Cocker
Larry Omans
Nicole Emens
Paul Westman
If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!
Editor
Lynne Stiegler
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
to Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
to Live the Life We Are
Called.
Chapter One
Family is life. That, and brisket.
James took another huge bite of the meat on his sauce-covered fork. The trays on the table in front of him were laden with piles of Jessie Rae’s barbeque, neatly divided into smaller piles by sauce type. This was one enemy he was always willing to face.
Since Alison was on summer vacation, he’d made sure they hit Jessie Rae’s at least every other week. Driving hours for good barbeque might seem extreme to some, but Jessie Rae’s wasn’t just good barbeque. It was the best.
PFW is heading the right direction, but we’re still a long way off before we’re even close to Jessie Rae’s.
Alison sat across the small table working on a rib with the intensity of a starving wolf. She set her half-eaten rib down on her plate, a mischievous smile on her face.
“What’s up?” James rumbled, a little nervous at her look.
“Have you noticed how I’ve been calling her Mom all summer and she's stopped complaining and telling me to call her ‘Aunt Shay?’” The teen grinned.
“She’ll be your stepmom sooner rather than later.” James shrugged. “And she loves you. There’s no point in fighting it. Even Shay knows there are some fights she can’t win.”
“I know she loves me. I’m just happy she’s letting me love her.” Alison looked down with a wistful smile. “I have fun at the school, and it’s been an interesting couple of years, but I miss you both when I’m there. Just chatting with you on the phone isn’t enough.” She sighed. “But I also miss my friends when I’m gone. It’s confusing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having people you actually like.” James punctuated his sentence with a bite of pork.
Even though I know his ingredients, I can’t match the taste. He says he’s not using magic, but it’s hard to believe that shit sometimes.
Alison stared out the window, a thoughtful expression settling over her face. “Makes me think.”
“About?”
“The future.” Alison shrugged. “I’m going into my junior year. Only one more year after that, and I’m done at the School of Necessary Magic. I don’t have any big plans other than going to college.”
James nodded slowly. They’d discussed this briefly on and off throughout the summer, and he didn’t want to pressure her too much. His life path might not be the best for her. There were a few things that he’d prefer, though, even if they were selfish.
“You still thinking about a local school?” James nodded at the window. “Local to LA, but you could go to school in Vegas without it being too annoying.”
“I was thinking UCLA, actually.”
“Really?” James gave her a thoughtful nod, although the idea excited him more than his barbeque. “You could live at home. Hey, you could take some of Shay’s classes. That might be fun.”
“We’ll figure out where I’ll live when I go, but I do like the idea of going to a school where Mom’s going to be teaching. I’m not going to major in archaeology or history.” Alison pondered that for a few seconds before appending, “I might minor in them, though.”
“You do what feels best. I don’t know shit about what you should do when you go to college.” James grunted. “I’m still pissed that dick of a department head made her go to an all-day boring-ass meeting about the departmental budget. She would have been here otherwise.”
Alison shrugged. “That’s what it means to be a professor, Dad. Meetings. Lots of meetings, especially since she’ll be teaching more than just guest lectures.” She let out a happy sigh. “And don’t worry about me. I’ve had a lot of quality time with her this summer since she hasn’t been taking as many jobs, although I could have gotten some more in if you’d let me go on a job or two with her and Lily.”
“You’re ready for a lot, but not tomb raiding. It’s too unpredictable.” James surveyed the trays, wondering if he should go for another rib or return to the glories of the brisket. “At least when I take you on bounties, I’ve got a lot of guys around you. They can watch your back. Even if you’ve learned a lot of tricks with your soul sight and energy magic, you’re still blind. And that damned gnome is taking his sweet-ass time making those glasses to help you with that.”
“I’ve lasted this long without seeing like normal people. I think I’ll survive a little longer.” Alison shrugged.
Mike, the ow
ner of Jessie Rae’s, stepped out from behind the counter and walked over to their table. “Everything okay, James?”
“Great.” James lifted his fork and brisket. “Always great. Shit, I meant to ask you before. We don’t have a date set for the wedding yet or even know the number of people, but I’ll pay whatever you want if you’ll cater the wedding. I’ll also pay for whatever transportation you need once we know where it’ll be.”
Alison picked up her glass to sip her water, an amused smile on her face.
Mike gave James a skeptical look. “You know me, James. I’d love to cater any event associated with you, but are you sure that your fiancée wants barbeque at her wedding?”
James grunted. “I don’t care what other frou-frou shit Shay wants at the wedding. I’m having barbeque, and I want the best barbeque on the planet. I’m trying with PFW, but they aren’t there yet, and I don’t think Shay’s gonna put the wedding off for years.”
“I’d be honored.” Mike smiled. “When you’ve got some dates and guest counts, just let me know. I’ll shut down this place for a week if I have to.” He laughed. “Besides, catering for James Brownstone isn’t exactly bad advertising.” He held up his fingers as if framing an invisible banner. “I can see it now. ‘Taste the barbeque so good, the Scourge of Harriken had it at his wedding.’”
Alison laughed, no longer able to contain her amusement.
“I just want to make sure there’s halfway decent food at the wedding.” James shrugged. “Weddings are long, and I don’t want to be hungry all night.”
Mike nodded. “Understood.” He glanced down when his smartwatch buzzed. “I’ve got to check on something. Talk to you later.” He headed toward the back and laughed. “Now I’ve got something to look forward to. I’m going to have to cook my best ever.”
Alison giggled. “Seriously, Dad? Barbeque at your wedding?”
“You’re damned right. I’m only getting married once, and I don’t want to be hungry at it.”
“Between you and Mom, everything’s going to be so different anyway, you might as well. It’s funny—I think I’ve had more barbeque in the last couple of months than I had all last semester.”
James grimaced. “What are those pixies feeding you at that school? Oriceran kale?”
“It’s good food, Dad. Just not barbeque most of the time. Really.”
He nodded toward her plate. “There are good places in Charlottesville. I’ve taken you to some of them. You should hit them up. Didn’t you say they’ll let you leave campus once you start your junior year?”
Alison nodded. “Yes, they will.”
James shook his head, feeling vaguely disappointed. He liked to think of himself as a good father, adoptive or not, but he was failing his daughter if she was barely eating barbeque most of the year. Some family traditions were sacred.
Good thing I planned this shit out better this summer.
Lyle whistled If I Only Had a Brain quietly as he approached the security line. He placed his briefcase on the conveyor belt and walked toward the metal detector, half-wondering if the DNA lock would catch the security personnel’s attention.
Might be fun to let them freak out for a few minutes, but I’m on a tight schedule here. I’ve waited too long as it is.
Waiting until everyone else on his flight had headed toward the gate would make the entire process easier. Flying a red-eye out of a regional airport might not be as comfortable an experience as he would have preferred, but proper planning was necessary to avoid unnecessary attention.
He wasn’t ready yet for exposure, which was why he’d chosen this airport. A regional airport wouldn’t have decent magical detection resources.
Right now, the two agents manning the security checkpoint were his only concern. The bored and tired employees would be trivially vulnerable to his little tricks as long as he let fun overwhelm necessity.
One agent sat in a chair, staring at a laptop displaying the results of the X-ray scan. He frowned and stopped the conveyor belt. He glanced at Lyle, his eyes narrowed.
Lyle cleared his throat. “It’d be helpful if you just let that through and forget about what you just saw. Yes, I know what’s inside, but you don’t have to worry about it. I’ll handle it. You probably don’t understand what you’re looking at anyway.” He laid his hand on his chest atop the small bone charm on a chain hidden underneath his shirt and concentrated. The charm warmed up, and he smiled at the other agent. “And just let me through the metal detector. I’m going to miss my flight if you keep me here too long, and we can’t have that, can we?”
The first agent started up the conveyor belt again, his eyes glassy—a victim of the bone charm’s mind-control magic. “Okay, sir.”
Lyle walked through the metal detector. It beeped, picking up the loaded .38 he had in a holster under his jacket. These days he considered guns crude and often unnecessary tools, but a man could never be too careful in an uncertain world. Someday he might actually run into someone immune to the magic.
The second guard waved him through, his eyes also glassy. “Just go ahead, and hurry it up. Don’t want you to miss your flight, sir.”
Lyle grabbed his briefcase with a huge smile. “Thank you. You two have made my day.”
“What’s in there, exactly?” the first agent asked.
“Just some special magical explosives,” Lyle replied cheerfully. “You don’t have to worry, though. These aren’t intended for the plane. I’m just selling them to someone in Los Angeles. I think they need them for a coup or something somewhere. Who the hell knows? As for me, it’s just a little mini-vacation-slash-business-trip. But forget that I ever said that. Forget that I was ever here once I leave. Can you do that for me?”
Both men nodded.
“Thanks. You’re very helpful. I’ll make sure to leave a positive review for you online.” Lyle walked over and shook the second agent’s hand. He was tempted to give him a new command and humiliate him, but making a big scene at a small airport would draw PDA attention he didn’t need, at least not until he was ready.
It wouldn’t hurt to test out a few things in Los Angeles while I’m there. This penny-ante crap is getting old.
Lyle continued toward the gate, ignoring the occasional weary and bleary-eyed traveler heading to the area. He finally closed on his boarding gate, where the ticketing agent was tapping at her computer.
She blinked and looked up at him. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Oh, I need to get on that flight.” He beamed a smile at her.
The ticketing agent frowned and glanced down at her computer. “Sir, I’m sorry, the system says every ticketed passenger is accounted for. You sure this is the right flight? A lot of people get their gates mixed up with these red-eyes.”
Lyle pointed at the large digital display listing the flight number and destination, LAX. “No, this is definitely the flight I need. Just let me ask you one question: is there an open seat?”
“Yes, but our airline has a policy about minimum time of arrival prior to boarding. They’re getting ready to close the door. I’m sorry, sir, but it’s a firm policy. It’s a matter of security.”
“Security’s important. You never know what kind of freaks might be trying to get on a plane these days.” Lyle reached up and pressed on the charm again. “You’re going to call the plane and order them to let me board. There was a mistake in the system, and I should be let on. Do I make myself clear?” He kept his voice calm and pleasant.
The woman sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize there was a mistake in the system.” She grabbed her walkie-talkie. “We have one more passenger boarding. VIP.”
Oh, nice. I didn’t even tell her to treat me like a VIP.
Lyle leaned in to whisper, “Once the plane takes off, it’d be helpful if you forgot about me. Can you do that for me…” he glanced down at her nametag. “…Deborah?”
“Of course, sir,” she responded, completely glassy-eyed.
After th
e walkie-talkie crackled to life and urged his boarding, Lyle waved and headed down the jetway.
Those smug wizards at the club always thought they were better than me. Who needs their kind of magic when you have this kind of power instead?
They’d told him stories about mind-control magic, inherent to some creatures or accessible through wizard spells, but everything they’d mentioned required too much work, things like having to all but convince the person by normal means for it to work, but the bone charm just required him to give commands. He’d yet to encounter anyone who could resist it, magical or mundane. He’d even purposefully started a bar fight and then ordered the angry men to punch themselves in the head until they fell unconscious.
That was a fun night!
His personal favorite incident had involved speeding until a cop pulled him over. He had mocked the police officer and then ordered him to pants himself and cross the highway. Investigators had determined that magic had been involved, but they had no way to trace it to Lyle. He was driving a car he had stolen using the magic, and he had abandoned it that same day.
Lyle returned to whistling as he approached the door to the jet. The money he’d earn in Los Angeles would be only the beginning. The wizards had been right; before, he’d been nothing. He hadn’t deserved respect, but the bone charm had changed everything.