Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Information
CONTENTS
The Reluctant Assassin
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
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
The Sorcerous Spy
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
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
The Veiled Diplomat
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
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
The Hundred Halls Appendix
The Hundred Halls Universe
Also by Thomas K. Carpenter
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The Reluctant Assassin Boxset (Books 1-3)
By
Thomas K. Carpenter
Copyright Information
The Reluctant Assassin Boxset (Books 1-3)
A Hundred Halls Universe Series
Copyright © 2019 by Thomas K. Carpenter
Published by Black Moon Books
www.blackmoonbooks.com
Cover Design Copyright © 2019 by Ravven.com
Discover other titles by this author on:
www.thomaskcarpenter.com
This is a novel work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquires may be addressed via email to thomaskcarpenter@gmail.com
CONTENTS
The Reluctant Assassin
The Sorcerous Spy
The Veiled Diplomat
About the Author
Hundred Halls Books
Hundred Halls Appendix
Copyright
Start Reading Now
The Reluctant Assassin
Chapter One
Tenth Ward, September 2013
He wasn't a commando
After spending three days surviving the Merlin Trials—the grueling entrance exams to the Hundred Halls—Zayn Carter was ready for anything the Academy of the Subtle Arts could throw at him: disarming magical traps, sneaking through minefields, or escaping from murderous manticores—even a mage duel using only the Five Elements. Zayn was ready for anything...anything except what actually happened.
Zayn and twenty-nine of his fellow first years—including his cousin Keelan—stood in two uneven rows in an empty Wizard's Coffee while Carron Allgood paced before them in his heavy brown duster, slamming his claw-ended staff on the tile floor every other step for emphasis.
The mage was not an unfamiliar figure to Zayn, as he'd been coming to his hometown of Varna, Alabama, for as long as he could remember to recruit mages for the Hundred Halls, the only magical university in the world. What was unfamiliar was the level of anger directed at them.
"Let me ask again," said Allgood in a growling tone, "who the idiot was that used faez when I explicitly told you that there will be no magic today. Period."
Everyone glanced around, hoping that someone might admit it, and release the tension from the room. Faez was the raw stuff of magic that mages molded into spells. Any mage with the ability to get into the Halls could sense its nearby use. A slight metallic scent tickled the back of Zayn's tongue. It hadn't been a lot, but it'd been enough to get Allgood's notice.
As he walked by, hot breath steaming from his nose, Zayn sucked in his gut, hoping to avoid his attention. The instructor walked past, and a sense of relief flooded into Zayn. He wasn't sure who'd used magic, but he knew it hadn't been him.
Allgood stopped at a spot on the end of the line to Zayn's right and shoved his finger into someone's chest. "Y
ou're the maggot that can't listen, aren't you?"
Zayn leaned forward, only to see that it was his cousin, Keelan, whom Allgood had picked. Zayn and his cousin looked a lot alike, same tight Afro, same wide smile, except Keelan's skin was a little lighter, more cocoa than black coffee.
Before Zayn could control his mouth, he blurted out, "It wasn't him."
Allgood was in Zayn's face so fast, it felt like he'd teleported.
"Did I ask anyone to tell me who they thought it was? No. Because I don't care. I wanted to hear one thing and one thing only, for someone to admit that they listen like a log," said Allgood.
Zayn's gut twisted and his heartbeat pounded in his ears as Allgood focused his attention on him. He could sense him making a decision, and he didn't think it would be good.
"So tell me...Zayn."
Zayn nodded.
"Why do you think you're so smart that you know it wasn't him?" asked Allgood.
"Because that's my cousin, and I know what his faez smells like," said Zayn.
Allgood snorted. "Knows what his faez smells like. Doesn't that sound like a load of bull. I think it was you that did it, and you just felt bad when it was your own flesh and blood that got blamed."
He put his calloused hand on Zayn's shoulder. It felt like a truck backing onto him. "Everyone, this is Zayn. Zayn doesn't know how to listen. Don't be like Zayn." He patted his shoulder twice. "Is that right?"
Zayn responded, "Yes, Professor."
This set Allgood off again. "Professor? I'm not a damn professor. I do not profess. And I do not teach. I mold and shape. So you'd better learn to be malleable. But since I'm not a total monster, and so you assholes don't start calling me Mr. Allgood, or some crap like that, you can call me Instructor, or Instructor Allgood. Got it? Good."
He surveyed the room before pointing at Zayn again. "Since you think you know better than everyone else, I'm going to make this a little harder on you." He snapped his fingers. "Remove your clothes, everything but your underwear, assuming you're wearing any."
"Wha...?" Zayn started to say before he remembered what talking out of turn got him.
"It appears Mr. Carter is learning," said Instructor Allgood.
The other first years glanced at him, while keeping their eyes generally faced forward.
"Did I not enunciate enough for you?" asked Instructor Allgood, pointing his claw-ended staff at him.
Zayn pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the nearest table. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window as he unbuttoned his jeans and shimmied out of them. His chest had never filled in like it had for Keelan, who could have played football in high school, so he felt ridiculous standing in the middle of a Wizard's Coffee in his boxers surrounded by his fellow first years.
He heard a few snorts of laughter, which judging by the instructor's expression was encouraged. It took all Zayn's self-control not to cross his arms. He tried to tell himself that this was no different than going swimming with the other kids behind the Castlewood trailer park, but his face betrayed him, growing so warm with embarrassment that it was hard to pay attention.
"Today we're going to learn a little something about each of you," said Instructor Allgood, taking up position at the front of the room. "Passing the Merlin Trials was quite an achievement, one that earned you a place in this hall. But magic is a tool. Even the student with the highest capacity for faez will not last long unless he learns to use this." He tapped on the side of his head while giving Zayn a side-eye. "So today, you're going to scurry out these doors on a mission. This is the tenth ward in Invictus, a moderately prosperous section of the city. A proper member of the Academy of the Subtle Arts can turn any difficult situation into a boon. So that's what I'm asking today. I want you to go out into the city and bring back something of value.
"Remember your challenge is that you cannot use magic. Not one iota. If I find out you even used a simple back scratching spell, you're going to wish you were back home with mommy and daddy."
Instructor Allgood glared at them for a long moment before pointing to a stack of papers on the table.
"These are the locations in the ward that you will stick to. So you're not teaming up, or falling all over each other, everyone gets their own area. So on your way out the door, grab one. Be back here at five p.m., and don't be late!"
There was a general push towards the stack of papers, while trying to stay as far away from Instructor Allgood as possible. Zayn lingered near the back, delaying the journey outside in his boxers for as long as possible.
The last few first years glanced back at him with smirks on their lips, except for a shorter Latino girl who looked on him with pity.
He hesitated at the door, with the sheet of paper in his fist. When he looked back at the instructor, he was studying him as if he were trying to read his mind.
"Go on," said the instructor, motioning towards the door.
He glanced back at his clothes draped over a chair.
"Don't worry. No one wants your clothes. We've got the shop all day. They'll be here when you get back, unless you'd like to give up now," said Instructor Allgood.
Zayn took a deep breath, opened the door, and wearing nothing but his boxers—and under explicit instructions not to use magic—walked into the city of sorcery.
Chapter Two
Tenth Ward, September 2013
The subtle arts of streaking
Zayn's sudden appearance brought the gaze of every passerby. He quickly checked his paper to find his destination only a few blocks away. He moved in that direction, swinging his arms in exaggeration, hoping it made him look like a speed-walker rather than a streaker, but it didn't help. He could feel every eye upon him, and it was almost like he wasn't wearing gray cotton boxers at all. He'd never really had that "accidentally went to school naked dream," but now he understood the terror of it.
When he stubbed his barefoot toe on the curb as he hurried across the street, it was almost a relief to feel pain. He'd practically run for two blocks. Zayn stopped on the corner, running his hand across his Afro as he took in his surroundings. There were a lot of places he'd expected to be on his first morning of training, but standing on the corner of Fifth and Morgana in his boxers was not one of them. Even his time working for the Goon back in Varna—an experience that came with big perks and bigger dangers—hadn't prepared him.
A woman in a blue tracksuit ran past giving him a questioning stare and nearly collided with a businessman checking his messages. Zayn took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together.
"Let's take stock of our inventory," said Zayn as he patted his bare stomach. "We've got, let's see, one set of boxers, and...yeah, that's about it."
A kid on a bicycle gave him a funny look, but Zayn ignored him and focused on what he could control. And things could have been worse: it wasn't winter, or raining.
The buildings on the street made him feel small. The tallest building in Varna besides the water tower was the Lady's mansion, and no one went there unless they had to. Having spent the entirety of his seventeen years in a small town in Alabama without expectations that he would ever get to leave left him a little bewildered about what was available in the middle of a major city.
He didn't even know the proper etiquette for crossing the street, though it became clear pretty quickly that the only rule was "don't get run over," and even that was sketchy, as he watched an old woman with a cane smack a Ford Festival that got too close when she was on the crosswalk.
Across from him was a local park, the only thing remotely resembling a location from his home. He saw runners and people walking their pets, including an older lady with a long-haired cat on a leash.
Further out, he had a good sight line on the Spire at the center of the city. Zayn wasn't sure if he was twenty or fifty miles away, since the Spire could be seen from everywhere as it was twice as tall as the highest skyscraper. It was the central hub of the city, and in a way, of the Hundred Halls. While the Spire was the most
important landmark in the city, Invictus was the most important city in the world, because it was the only one that taught people how to use magic.
Gondolas slid through the sky on invisible wires. Seeing one reminded him of his first day in Invictus, when he rode one with Keelan on their way to the Merlin trials. He'd stood in the exact center of the gondola so he wasn't forced to look out the window at the cavernous expanse beneath them.
But nothing about coming to the Hundred Halls had been normal. He was still a little surprised that he'd made it this far, given that so many aspiring mages failed, even ones that came from Varna.
Zayn knew that he was more prepared than most, since he'd been able to use magic without the danger of faez madness for his entire life. While faez was the raw stuff of magic, it was also inherently dangerous to humans unless they'd built up a tolerance or psychically connected themselves to a more experienced mage. This was how the Hundred Halls was set up, with each student pledging themselves to the patron of their hall, to teach and protect them from faez madness until they were older and experienced enough to operate on their own. Zayn's patron was Priyanka Sai, who ran the Academy of the Subtle Arts, the hall commonly called the Assassin's Guild.
Ever since he realized the only way to save his town—and his family—was to join the Hundred Halls, he'd dedicated himself to learning anything that might help him, including any spells that he could find, a difficult task in the middle of Alabama.
All that preparation wouldn't help him now, since he wasn't allowed to use magic to solve the problem. But he did have one thing that would help: growing up poor. If there was one thing his family knew how to do, it was how to repurpose junk into something useful.
Feeling less naked than he had a few minutes ago, Zayn went into the nearest alleyway and dumpster dived, producing a smorgasbord of potential answers. Standing in the middle of an oily puddle, Zayn reviewed his newly acquired belongings.
"Let's see, we have a couple of unread newspapers, the Herald of the Halls, whatever that is, a table leg, a traffic cone that looks like it's been chewed on by a bear, half a can of gold paint, a pair of sunglasses with no lenses, a roll of leftover green tape, and a plastic mop bucket with a crack running through the side. Great," he said, scratching the back of his head, "this should be easier than eating corn on the cob with chopsticks."