Relic Guardians Collection
RELIC GUARDIANS
Collection (Books 1 – 3)
Meg Cowley
Victoria DeLuis
Published in 2019 by
Deryn Publishing
United Kingdom
Originally Published in 2017 by
Jolly Creative Atelier
United Kingdom
© 2017 Meg Cowley & Victoria DeLuis
www.megcowley.com
www.victoriadeluis.com
Cover design © Meg Cowley 2017
All characters, places and events are fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places or events is purely coincidental.
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored or distributed in any form, without prior written permission of the publisher.
Books by Meg Cowley & Victoria DeLuis
Relic Guardians
Devious Magic (Prequel)
Ancient Magic
Hidden Magic
Cursed Magic
Gathered Magic
Relic Guardians Collection
(Ancient, Hidden, and Cursed Magic)
Relic Guardians Short Story Collection
(Rogue Magic and Stolen Magic)
Books by Meg Cowley
Chronicles of Pelenor
Heart of Dragons
Court of Shadows
Order of Valxiron
Books of Caledan
The First Crown (Prequel)
The Tainted Crown
The Brooding Crown
The Shattered Crown
Books of Caledan Trilogy Boxset
Morgana Chronicles
Magic Awakened
Books by Victoria DeLuis
Rune Witch Mysteries
Taken
Hidden
Forgotten
Unbroken
Rune Witch Mysteries Quartet Boxset
The Silure Dragon
Exile
Independent Necromancer’s Bureau
A Grave Death
Independent Necromancers’ Bureau Short Stories
A Matter of Death
Til Death
Table of Contents
RELIC GUARDIANS
Ancient Magic
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Hidden Magic
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Stolen Magic (Short Story)
Rogue Magic (Short Story)
Cursed Magic
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Gathered Magic
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
About the Authors
Ancient Magic
Relic Guardians Book One
Meg Cowley
Victoria DeLuis
One
“Why do your missions always seem to end in my office discussing an international scandal, Zoe?” The director heaved an exasperated sigh, but he didn’t look at me with anger anymore; just tired resignation. He was too used to this.
I didn’t pretend to be contrite or apologetic – it wouldn’t have fooled anyone, least of all him – and closed the door with a snap behind me. This wasn’t going to be an ‘open door’ kind of conversation. It rarely was.
“I did what was necessary, Duncan.” I didn’t bother with ‘sir’ or ‘director’ anymore; we’d known each other far too long for that.
He glared at me for a moment, but dropped his gaze to the antique pocket watch on his jacket. His fingertips caressed the worn silver, lighting the invisible runes that adorned it. They flashed brightly and dimmed to nothing once more. It was the usual silence charm so our discussion would not be overheard.
“What happened this time?” He always gave me a chance to explain. I was grateful for that. I sighed. My conduct this time hadn’t been perfect, but I wouldn’t shirk from admitting it.
“I found the haniwa in Turkey as your source said,” I began. I’d been tasked with recovering a stolen haniwa – a Japanese terracotta clay figure – which had been smuggled to the Middle East. “They had duplicates, of course, but it was easy to uncover the genuine one covered in Japanese rune magic. Didn’t understand a glyph of it.”
Duncan cleared his throat. I hurried on.
“Ah, I had no problems until I reached Saudi. They disagreed with my attire, and that I refused to be segregated from my male colleagues.”
Duncan groaned.
“What? It’s my body and I’ll dress it how I please. And how am I supposed to do my job if I can’t work with my colleagues?” I huffed. “Anyway. I flashed my passport and they changed their mind about arresting me. I moved the relic out of Saudi and returned it to its home in Tokyo, where it’s now protected under wards as it ought to be. Another job completed; where’s the problem?”
“Zoe, you do realise you’re granted diplomatic immunity for work matters at the great generosity of the British government? Your actions reflect on the United Kingdom. It’s not to be misused. The Saudis are demanding you’re returned so you can be arrested and tried for your crimes.”
I scoffed. “Crimes! It’s no crime to have freedom of expression and professional respect. I’m not going back there.” My voice was scathing.
Duncan leapt to his feet and his ice-chip blue eyes pinned me where I stood. Runes flashed on his watch. Uh-oh. Maybe this had been a step too far. “Damn it, Zoe! We might be on the government’s payroll, but they cannot protect you from any more diplomatic incidents. Do I make myself clear?” he spat the words like bullets.
I nodded, but anger still seethed in my stomach.
“Did you know the Prime Minister himself has my direct line to ask me what your latest furore is about and whether he should hand you over to whichever government you’ve offended this time? The PM, for goodness sake. He shouldn’t even know who I am. We’re supposed to be below board, remember? You know our clients require complete discretion.”
Guilt nudged me and I suppressed a wince. He was right. For all intents and purposes, our department of the Great British History Museum didn’t exist. We had no official address, no named department; nothing. We worked with museums and archaeological conservation partners across the world to liberate missing and stolen artefacts and relics from smugglers, thieves, and the black market.
My speciality was artefacts of magical power. You name it, and we’ve dealt with every corner of the underworld. If any of our partners were to be connected with them... well, the criminal underworld wasn’t the forgiving type. It was a dangerous business, and I saw the worst of it, dealing with magical relics. Bad guys were bad enough, but bad guys with magic were the worst. Sometimes, I forgot there were consequences for other people to what I did.
Du
ncan softened as he saw my hint of regret. “Zoe. You’re my best; and you know it.” I smiled, but it wasn’t my usual cocky grin. With Duncan, I put aside my bravado. He was right, though. At twenty-seven, I was one of the youngest relic hunters in the business, and I had the best track record. “You’ve not failed a mission yet, but I need you to try harder to stay off the radar. It’s not just safety; you know what is at stake.”
I knew exactly what was at stake. I was a Magicai, one of magical powers; a witch, to put it crudely. Magic was in both our blood, but not everyone was lucky enough to have it. It was few and far between. After the Spanish Inquisition of the thirteenth century, magic had gone underground and stayed there. Our secret was the greatest of all; to reveal it, to break the Magical Order of Secrecy, was a crime not worth thinking about.
I glanced at the door. Out there, the rest of our team worked; Ordinaries, with not a hint of magic about them. They would never know how closely their lives touched our world. I fingered my charm bracelet: silver inlaid with semi-precious stones. It fluttered and warmed at my touch; its own runes illuminating as Duncan’s had done.
“Sorry, Duncan.” I meant it, too. I didn’t apologise to anyone except Duncan, but I suppose, no one else had my respect.
Duncan nodded and sat at his desk again. “You’ve had a long flight.” His voice had softened once more, too. “Go home; rest. I want you back at eight sharpish on Monday morning. We have plenty of other jobs in the pipeline that I need your magic to take care of.”
“See you Monday, Duncan.”
“Night, Zoe. Try not to cause another international incident this weekend.”
I cracked a smile. If he was joking with me, we were good. Duncan never could hold a grudge.
“I can’t promise anything.” I winked and slid the door shut before he could retort.
~
Twenty minutes later, I was ‘home’, a.k.a. the place I never seemed to spend any time. I kicked off my heavy, steel-toe-capped boots under the table, slung my black leather jacket over the single chair, and dropped my bag beside it. On the table went the Chinese takeout I’d picked up on the way. I glanced around; my studio apartment was exactly how I’d left it, as it always was. It could have been a hotel room it was so bare.
Because I spent so little time here, I’d never furnished it with more than a few personal effects, and the only one of importance was the battered picture of Emily and me: the last good photo we’d taken before she’d died. I brushed the dust from it with care and looked into her bright eyes. I never felt lonely, except when I looked at that picture. You never get over losing your twin. It’s like losing yourself. Not even magic could save her. I’d never seen magic fail at anything until then, and that had taken a long time to come to terms with.
I placed the photo back on the counter and sighed, feeling fed up and suddenly aware of just how exhausted I was. A fine layer of dust covered everything. How long had I been away? It didn’t feel like that long. Sometimes, I resented paying through the nose for this dump, but it served a purpose. I was close to work, and I’d come to the centre of London to be with my own kind. It was a hub of magical power, and we gathered here. My favourite place to roam when I was free was Camden Town. Misfits galore. Magicai fitted in well there; no one noticed us and we could operate quite happily on the fringes of society.
I sank onto my bed, which doubled as a sofa and started on the takeout. I was starving. Over a full day of travelling meant my body was crying out for anything that wasn’t airport or aeroplane food.
I caught up on social media whilst I stuffed myself with wontons and spring rolls. I hadn’t missed anything; I never did. My friends – Ordinaries and Magicai – had moved on long ago. Normal jobs, boring lives. My feed was a wall of motivational quotes, manicured selfies, and cat videos. Only one of those didn’t make me want to vomit. Guess which. I never posted my own stuff. What can you share when your job is top secret? I travelled the world, but one post could incriminate or endanger me.
As I ate, my rune bracelet hummed on my wrist, recharging with magic it could store, harness, and release; handy in a bind. I walked the world shielded, as most of us did, so others couldn’t see my power. You never knew who was watching. Now, in the privacy of my own home, I was myself. Every inch of me was brighter, and the silver and stones glowed brightest of all as I used the power of the city to draw magic back into myself. It couldn’t banish the aches of my journey and the job fully, but it filled me with energy and took the edge off my battered state.
This was why we, Magicai, congregated in London: it sat on one of the key ley line intersections on the planet. The ley lines were like invisible lines that crisscrossed the planet; magic energy flowed from them like a never ending spring. The closer you were, the greater the power. Ley line intersections were the most powerful of all as these lines of magical energy converged. It was no coincidence many of the world’s largest cities sat atop these junctions; not that the Ordinaries would know it.
Despite the magical help, I was still looking forward to my first weekend off in months. My first priority would be a massage to banish the aches, and then some jujitsu practice to keep me supple. And after that, well, work was a hobby, too, of sorts. I wanted to visit the London Magical Archives to read up on the interesting Japanese runes that had adorned the haniwa.
Belly full and plans for the weekend set, it was definitely time for sleep. I stripped down to my vest and sank between the sheets gratefully, anticipating the long hours of sleep before me.
I should have known it wouldn’t be so simple.
Two
The noise from the phone was an explosion of sound as it rang right next to my head. It shocked me from sleep and it took a few seconds for the adrenaline rush to pass, and my confused brain to process where I was. The phone flashed next to me, its screen brightly lit, still ringing incessantly. The time on the face read the small hours of the morning, and the name flashed up: ‘Director’. I groaned. No choice. I answered.
“Duncan, c’mon,” I moaned at him, about to complain about personal boundaries, but he cut me off.
“Zoe, there’s no time. I need you here now.” I stilled at the tone of his voice: low and urgent. “There’s been an incident in Mexico. It can’t wait until Monday. Top secret classification. How soon can you be here?”
I was exhausted and annoyed, and part of me longed to sink back into my pit of a bed and shut the world out for another half a day, but I couldn’t resist. Anything with the highest level classified status always piqued my interest; I knew it was Something Big, which usually meant very dangerous, highly cool, and extremely exciting.
“Twenty minutes.”
“My office. See you soon.” Duncan terminated the call and I scrambled into action. I dressed as fast as I could, repacked my travel bag — swapping out my dirty clothes for clean ones — and after one last look at Emily, left.
I arrived one minute early. Duncan awaited me, still in his work attire, but wearing slippers. He coloured slightly at my raised eyebrow.
“Forgot,” he muttered gruffly.
“What’s Top Secret, then, Duncan?”
“How familiar are you with Mayan lore?” He didn’t reply with a joke, and that’s when I realised how serious it was.
I shrugged and shook my head, blank faced.
“The ruins of a Mayan city were discovered two months ago in the Yucatan peninsula, close to Chichén Itzá, one of the centres of Mayan civilisation. It’s been kept top secret for obvious reasons; looting of Mayan ruins is rampant. Well, the looters found it anyway. They’ve taken everything they could carry, including a magical artefact of potential significant power, and danger. Of course, the Mexicans want to recover the lot, but your focus is that relic. The head of their organisation has asked for my best operative on the case at once.”
“What’s the relic?”
“A myth that didn’t exist... until it was found.” Duncan’s expression darkened. “The Kukulkan Skull.
It is said to be the skull of the feathered serpent god Kukulkan himself, bestowed with the power of life and death. It’s most powerful on the Day of the Dead, November the second, and in the hands of the wrong Magicai could be used to cause devastation, dealing death to the living and giving life to the dead on a grand scale.”
“A zombie uprising?” I gawked. That was a new one, or at least one I hadn’t heard in a while. Few relics were so powerful. And if it were most powerful on the Day of the Dead... we were into October now. I didn’t have long, it would seem.
Duncan frowned at my crude description. “Yes, well, I wouldn’t put it like that. The thefts occurred only a few hours ago. I’m to get you out there as fast as I can, and your Mexican counterpart will fill you in on the rest.”
He passed me a pile of papers on his counter. “You fly to Cancun in four hours. Here are your tickets, itinerary, and the information sent over from the Mexican Secretary of Culture’s office.”
I flicked through the packet briefly. Lots of ‘Top Secret’ stamps. Itinerary. Two plane tickets. It looked like I was flying to Atlanta and then to Cancun on an economy ticket. I suppressed a sigh. You’d think with all the frequent flyer miles I racked up, they’d upgrade me to First every so often, but apparently not. Twelve more hours in ‘cattle class’ it was, then.
“You’d best leave now. Your contact Juan will meet you at Cancun airport. He’ll be your guide and translator.” He gave me a warning glance.
“Yes, yes,” I said, with a hint of snap to my tone. “I’ll try to keep out of trouble.”
~
Before long, I was under London on the Piccadilly line tube to Heathrow Airport with my bag and documents in hand. I rifled through them on the deserted train, trying to glean any more information, but there was no more than what the director had said. I googled the site, discoveries, and artefact when I reached the airport, but there were no credible results. There would be when the looting became public knowledge, I was sure. I was eager to know what I was dealing with, but I wanted to find out first hand; not from the media.