Money Jane: How to Set the World on Fire, #2

By T.K. Riggins

In the sequel to How to Set the World on Fire, Kase Garrick continues his training at The Academy to achieve his dream of becoming a great warrior. 

Although his physical program is segregated from the intellectual scholars and intuitive wizards, Kase is influenced by his bond with his wizard friend Lenia to study her craft and unleash the special magic within him. 

Remarkably, he's able to use her unique focus instrument, a black trident, to harness his newfound power. However, after one of their secret tutoring sessions, a masked criminal ambushes them and steals the trident.

Unwilling to wait for the authorities at The Academy to find the culprit, Kase works with his friends to hunt for what was lost. As they travel throughout the realm in search of answers, the only clue they have is the uncanny resemblance that the thief has to a legendary criminal from before their time: Money Jane.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Franchise Publishing
• Release date: May 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9780995900226

T.K. Riggins

T.K. Riggins started writing because of a dare. His friend was searching for something new to read, and after coming up empty handed, challenged Riggins to take action. Instead of recommending a book, he decided to pen a story of his own. He shared an experience from his past, where he witnessed a cattle farmer deal with fetus malposition. The farmer was able to reach inside the cow, turn the calf around in the womb, and reorient the birthing position. With a little bit of tugging, some questionable language, and a healthy dose of faith, the calf entered the world and took its first breath with ease. Growing up in the city, Riggins thought he witnessed a miracle. The calf was struggling and was surely dead, but with the help of the farmer it was alive and well. Riggins turned this day on the farm into a fantasy story by replacing the cow with a flying lion, and the miracle work of the farmer into a tale of magic, because the experience was magical to him. His audience loved the story, so Riggins was obligated to make more. Instead of focusing on just the farm, he used other aspects of his life to create a world involving the physical strength of a warrior, the intellectual prowess of a scholar, and the passionate magic of a wizard. After a while, he had a whole book! Although he doesn’t have a typical writer’s background in Literature or Education, his BSc in Mechanical Engineering helps him innovate, problem solve, and attack his series with a fresh perspective. He’s able to take a classic fantasy setting and add a modern twist, creating a world and story of his own. T.K. Riggins is the Chanticleer OZMA award-winning author of the fantasy novel How To Set The World On Fire. Originally from the Midwest, he now lives on the Canadian west coast, where he enjoys hiking the path less traveled, swimming against the current, and continuously pushing the boundaries.

Book preview

Prologue

Roman gripped the handle of his sword. He pulled it slightly out of its sheath so he could draw it faster if needed. Slowly, he warned.

The farmer clenched the cover of his cart and gradually pulled it back. Beneath were crates of barley, sunflower seeds, and cornhusks. He peeled it back further, and a few cages of chickens were revealed.

The farmer ripped the cover off completely, and jabbed a finger at the jars of milk lining the edge of his cart. See! Nothing illegal here. Are you happy now?

Thank you for your cooperation, sir, Roman said calmly. You may continue on your way.

Roman let go of his sword and turned towards one of his frontline officers, Benji. Please escort this gentleman through the barricade when he’s ready.

Dragoon, replied Benji. He took a few steps to his left and steadied himself next to the cart’s horse.

I don’t know why you Guardians are always hassling me. The farmer threw the cover back over his cart. Can’t a man just travel in peace anymore?

Sir! Benji barked. Please hurry with your cart.

Good for nothing Guardians, the farmer mumbled. He continued muttering to himself, but Roman ignored him.

Roman swung up onto his horse and trotted back towards the entrance of the Bank of the Triple Crown. He took his position in front of the locked gate, next to High Warrior Dawn.

Nothing? she asked. She was staring at the farmer, who was still mounting his cart. Benji kept a firm hand on the horse’s reins as he led the farmer past the perimeter of guards in front of the bank and down the cobblestone street.

Roman removed his bull-horned helmet and wiped his brow. He shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair, and put his headpiece back on. Just a disgruntled farmer, he replied.

We can’t afford to miss anything, Dawn said. Not again. We … She brought her elbow up to her mouth and coughed into it. She was tired and weary.

Roman removed a cloth from his pouch and offered it to the High Warrior, but she refused.

I’m okay. She cleared her throat. Just not as young as I used to be, she added with a laugh. These long days and nights are catching up to me in my old age.

Even now, the sun was setting in the western sky. It had been a long week of standing guard, patrolling the streets, and studying everything that moved. All of the Guardians were on high alert, because of the recent escalation in burglaries throughout Kimroad. Roman had hardly even seen his wife, who was stationed on the other side of the city.

He shifted in his saddle. If you want, you can rest while I—

I’ll rest when we catch her, Dawn interrupted. She puffed up her chest and surveyed the scene again from their mounted position. There were five guards at each end of the street, five more patrolling the only entrance, and five circling the building’s perimeter. No one was entering the bank.

Is tonight the night she’s going to slip up? Roman couldn’t keep the hopeful note from his voice.

Criminals always make mistakes, Dawn said. They don’t stop committing crimes until they’re caught. That’s what they do. That’s who they are.

The farmer had finally moved his cart down the road in front of the bank. He looked up at Roman and Dawn, shook his fist, and made an obscene gesture.

Dawn sighed. Maybe when we catch her, we’ll get the respect of the realm back, too, she said solemnly. She coughed again. It won’t be easy, though. Commander Grif told me that she’s able to turn into a bird. That’s how she’s able to escape so quickly.

Good thing dragons kill birds, Roman said. He patted his chest with his fist.

Dawn laughed.

Benji told me she can pass through walls, like a ghost, he added.

She’s the most dangerous criminal in the realm, but ghosts and birds are no match for the dragons that I know, Dawn said. She put her hand on Roman’s shoulder.

To receive such a familiar gesture of camaraderie from the High Warrior made Roman proud. He was about to show his thanks when a horn sounded in the distance. His attention focused to the west: an alarm from the Domini Promenade.

He gripped his horse’s reins a little tighter as adrenaline heightened his senses. He turned back to the High Warrior and awaited orders.

It must be her; protocol for the alarm is for Money Jane sightings only, Dawn said. Take ten warriors and go there, now!

Dragoon! Roman said, and he kicked his horse into motion.

Dawn yelled some orders to the Guardians surrounding the gate, while Roman gathered a few of the others, including Benji, from barricade duty.

Roman led the way, and he and his team raced through the streets of Kimroad. They rounded corners at breakneck speed, ordered people to clear the streets, and made it to the Domini Promenade in quick time.

When they got to the main street, Roman didn’t need to scan the area or split up his team. Two Guardians had already apprehended a man and had him restrained. Roman trotted over to them and dismounted. What happened? he asked.

Roman Garrick, one of the Guardians said in salute, although Roman didn’t recognize him. What are you doing here?

We heard the alarm, Roman replied. Were you the one that sounded it?

The Guardian tugged on his collar. No sir. He pointed to the prisoner on the ground, who was sitting hunched over with his legs spread and his hands behind his back. This man was blowing a Guardian’s horn in the middle of the street. I don’t know where he got it from; he’s not talking.

The Guardian handed Roman the horn. Emblazoned with the markings of the Triple Crown, it indisputably belonged to the High Guardians.

Roman stood in front of the criminal and tossed the horn on the ground. Where did you get this? he asked.

The criminal looked up at Roman and grinned. He extended his neck, spat at Roman’s feet, and then hunched back over.

Roman drew his sword and placed it on the criminal’s shoulder. Where did you get this? he repeated.

The criminal looked back up at him. Are you going to kill me for blowing a horn? he asked sarcastically. You Guardians think you have all the power in the realm, but you’re nothing. I’m not afraid of you.

Roman removed his sword. You’re right; I’m not going to kill you, he said. You’re obviously very wise, so I have a different kind of question for you. How many ways do you think this sword can penetrate a man without killing him?

The criminal’s smile disappeared. What do you mean?

What if I struck you here. Roman swiped his sword along the criminal’s arm. The blade sliced through his shirt like butter, but Roman was careful not to cut him—yet. You wouldn’t die, but it might be difficult to live without an arm.

The criminal’s eyes got wider. You wouldn’t, he muttered.

Or what about here? Roman sliced through the criminal’s pant leg. Again, he restrained himself from penetrating the insolent man’s skin, but left a huge hole instead.

The criminal looked nervous, but didn’t respond. Roman lifted his sword up and drove it into the ground. It stood, erect, an inch away from the criminal’s shaking inner thigh. What do you want to lose today? Roman whispered.

Oh, hey, come on now, the criminal said in panic. I wasn’t trying to harm anyone. A woman gave me a hundred Aileron to come to the Domini Promenade and blow this horn a few times. That’s it!

Who was it? Roman yelled. He yanked his sword up and returned it to the criminal’s neck.

I don’t know her! the criminal shouted back. He was sweating and shaking. I swear! She was wearing all black, and had a rag around her mouth, so I couldn’t see her face. That’s all I know! Please, please, just get away from me.

Roman lifted his sword and put it back in its sheath. He glanced around the Promenade at the shocked faces of the Guardians around him. He looked back the way he’d come, and realized what had happened.

To the bank! he yelled. He mounted his horse, yanked on the reins, and kicked hard.

Roman galloped back through the streets with his Guardians following loyally behind. He yelled at people to stay clear, although most gave him a wide berth as he manoeuvred around obstacles at speeds that had his horse scrambling for footing. He rounded a corner, and the bank came into view. He was almost there, but needed to be there, and faster.

He charged through the barricade without acknowledging the Guardians there and didn’t stop until he got to High Warrior Dawn. His horse skidded when he reached her, and dust flew everywhere. More dust followed as the rest of his team caught up to him.

We’ve been compromised, he reported without preamble.

The High Warrior had not looked at him upon arrival. She was staring straight ahead, statuesque.

Are you okay? Roman asked softly, still panting slightly.

No response.

He dismounted and slowly walked to her side. He put one hand on his sword, and reached out with the other. He touched her leg. Still nothing. He touched the horse, and it, too, was acting like a statue, completely motionless.

He turned to the Guardians by the gate. They were standing tall, but their eyes were spinning. He took a few steps forwards to study them closer, and saw whirlpools in their blue eyes. He also noticed that the gate was ajar.

Dragoon! he shouted.

Dragoon! the ten horsemen echoed.

Roman drew his sword and faced his comrades. They all drew their weapons and held them unwaveringly.

Money Jane is here, Roman said. I’m going to enter the bank, and I need the rest of you to form a perimeter around the gate. No one goes in, and no one goes out. Understood?

Dragoon! the Guardians shouted back.

Roman pointed his sword at Benji, who was in the centre of the mounted line-up. Benji, I want you to ride to the castle of the Triple Crown and send twenty more Guardians to our aid. Do it silently, without sounding the horn; I don’t want to tip off Money Jane.

Dragoon, Benji said with a nod. He put his sword back in its sheath, turned his horse, and rode off.

Roman looked back at High Warrior Dawn, placed his hand on her arm, and then made his way to the gate. He swung it open, and then turned the handle of the big, metal door. It creaked as he entered.

Because the bank was closed for the day, there were only two torches lit. Both of them were at the entrance. Roman held his sword steady in one hand, grabbed one of the torches in the other, and walked into the darkness.

The main floor of the bank was meant for the general public. It was a large, open space with a long, marble counter along the back wall. People would line up in order to talk to the bankers, who were perched behind the steel bars set into the countertop. Behind the bankers was a safe that had enough Aileron to tend to daily activities.

There was a stairway to the left of the counter that led to the upper levels of the bank. Bankers and other scholars had offices on the upper levels in order to have meetings with clients and work on financials that Roman, if he were being honest with himself, didn’t understand.

However, he knew that Money Jane would have no interest in those floors, and would instead head to the stairway on the right, which led to the lower levels. That was where the Triple Crown vaults held most of its Aileron, jewels, and artefacts.

There were two Guardians stationed in the dark, in front of the door that led to the vaults. When Roman approached with his lit torch, it was apparent that Money Jane had already gotten to them; their eyes were swirling like whirlpools and the door was open. Roman tiptoed down the stairway, careful not to make a sound.

He could faintly hear someone rattling around coins at the end of the hall. He kept his ears perked, and moved the torch behind his back to try and block some of the light. The noises got louder as he approached.

There was a vault on the left that had a faint light flickering from it. Money Jane must have bypassed the magic lock somehow, but it didn’t matter now.

Roman focused in on his prey. He could feel his heart beat faster. He was excited, but knew to remain cautious.

He took a few silent steps, and then burst through the entrance. He swung the torch in front of him and held his sword at eye level. Freeze! he yelled.

Money Jane was hunched over with her back to Roman. She slowly rose to her feet, abandoning the sack that she had been filling with gold. She cautiously turned around to face him. A black hood covered her head, and her black-and-white flowered rag covered her mouth, but her blue eyes dazzled in the firelight. They stood in silence for a drawn-out moment.

Anything else? she asked with a laugh. Would you like me to dance, or sing perhaps?

Drop the jewels, Roman ordered. He tried to remain calm, but his blood was still pumping with excitement. Even the air smelled a little sweeter. He had caught the most dangerous criminal in the realm.

Money Jane laughed again. What if I don’t? What are you going to do? She lowered her hands and took a step towards him.

Keep your hands where I can see them, Roman commanded. He levelled his sword, resting the blade on her shoulder, and pressed it slightly against her neck.

Money Jane stopped, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Do it, she whispered.

Roman was a little surprised, but he was ready to take advantage of her lowering her guard. He went to move his sword away so that he could strike her with his fist, but his arm wouldn’t move. He tried to move his other hand with the torch, but it, too, was stuck. It felt like something was holding every muscle of his body in place. He couldn’t do anything.

He tried to yell, but he couldn’t speak; he couldn’t even move his lips. His body was tingling, but he stood rock-solid.

He realized that he was now statuesque like all the other Guardians. Although he was immobile, he was still able to see and hear everything in front of him. It made him feel at once helpless and infuriated.

He’s the last one, said a male voice from behind Roman. Another hooded figure moved into his view of the front of the vault and looked down at the sack that Money Jane had been filling.

There were two of them.

Money Jane opened her eyes and sighed. Good job, babe, she said. She turned, away from Roman’s sword, and walked over to her accomplice. I just have to finish filling the third sack, and then we can get out of here.

So this one’s for the shelter. He pointed at the ground. And this one is for distributing throughout the Badlands?

No, Money Jane replied. That one is for Porkchop and his thugs. This big one is for the shelter.

I wish we didn’t have to pay them, he muttered.

They’re ruthless, but he and his little gang protect us from the Tyco, Money Jane answered in a no-nonsense tone. And we can always come back for more. What’s that? She pointed at the dagger that was tucked into her partner’s belt.

Roman recognized it instantly, and could feel the rage flow through his heart. He tried once again to will his body into action, but he still couldn’t move.

I don’t know what you’re referring to. Her partner chuckled, and tried to hide the dagger from her view.

Money Jane laughed. It looks like something special. Maybe we can replace some of Porkchop’s loot with it so we have more to distribute to others. She placed her hand on the green handle and pulled it from his beltline.

I got it off one of the Guardians, her partner said. I was hoping to keep it as a souvenir. They both stared at the ornate dagger as Money Jane caressed the sharp blade with her fingertips.

Roman’s blood was pumping wildly. The dagger belonged to the High Warrior of the realm, and had been passed down within the position from generation to generation. It was a symbol of power, leadership, and grace. Its green handle was crafted from the scales of a three-headed dragon, and represented the unity of the warriors. It meant more than the two criminals, who were treating it like a mere novelty item, ever could have realized.

Babe, we don’t need any treasure. Money Jane met the gaze of her partner. I know of a better souvenir for you, though. Lift your hand up. She gave a girlish giggle.

Her partner did as instructed. Money Jane grabbed his hand and held it steady. She placed the tip of the blade on the centre of his upraised palm and slowly spun it. Their eyes met again. Are you ready? she asked seductively.

Her partner nodded. Money Jane stopped twirling the dagger and put her weight into it. The blade entered his hand, and then started moving towards his fingertips as she pulled it towards herself. The man trembled violently, but Money Jane was laughing.

Roman wished fervently that he could move again, just to stop watching the two psychopaths in front of him.

Their hands dropped as Money Jane’s partner finally gave in to the pain. He clenched the skinny wrist of his hurt hand and stumbled around the room. Money Jane continued laughing.

The hooded figure kicked over a couple of the sacks of gold, yelling and groaning. His lanky legs shook as he tried to keep his balance. Aileron and jewels covered the floor.

Babe, Money Jane said calmly. She reached into the front of her shirt and pulled out a golden medallion. Let me heal you.

Like a hurt puppy, her partner sauntered back towards her. With one hand, she covered his palm, and with the other she clutched her medal. A warm glow shone from her healing touch, and her head tilted back. She started screaming, and her body trembled. Then she laughed maniacally. Then she screamed again.

Money Jane threw both her arms up in the air, and collapsed on the ground. Her partner stood still, moved his hand up to his face, and gently caressed his palm. You’re getting better at this, he remarked. All that’s left is a beautiful scar.

Money Jane sat up and placed her hand on her chest. She was trying to catch her breath. Now, we’ll remember this day forever, she panted.

Like this one? Her partner lifted up his shirt. There were three long scars on his side, as if something had clawed him.

Exactly, Money Jane said with a laugh. That’s what you get for teasing me.

Her partner laughed too, but Roman didn’t find the humour in their behaviour. He hated wizards normally, but thought these ones were extra crazy.

Or like this one, Money Jane said happily. She rolled up her pant leg and showed off a scar that looked like an arrowhead.

We almost got caught that day. Her partner looked back at the sacks of treasure. We should probably get out of here.

Money Jane nodded and got back to her feet. They quietly gathered the scattered Aileron, added some more jewels to their bounty, and then tied the sacks tight.

The partner grabbed the large one and was about to leave, but he saw Money Jane admiring a tiara.

Do you think that will fit on your apple-sized head? he teased. You’d look like a princess. Princess Money Jane!

Don’t call me that. Money Jane laughed. It sure is pretty, though. She looked over at Roman, and her eyes seemed to dazzle. I think it would look better on him.

The two criminals walked over to Roman. Money Jane was a little too short to remove his helmet, so her partner helped. He grabbed one of the horns and lifted the mask off Roman’s head. Money Jane stared into Roman’s eyes, but her counterpart studied the helmet.

Hardly impressive—just gross and sweaty, he said in disgust. He dropped the helmet and watched it bounce on the stone floor.

The sound of steel on concrete echoed through the room, but Money Jane didn’t seem to notice. Her focus was on Roman’s face. She brushed his heavy hair away from his forehead. Her touch was gentle and warm.

Look at him, she mumbled. He looks so …

Angry? her partner said. He moved closer and stared deep into Roman’s eyes.

Honest. Money Jane sighed. I can tell that he’s gentle and kind. He’s not corrupt like the warriors we know. She placed the tiara on top of Roman’s head and straightened it until it was perfect.

All Guardians are the same, her partner replied. He turned away from Roman, grabbed the large sack, and slung it over his shoulder.

Money Jane pulled the rag down from her mouth, and let it rest around her neck. Her skin was pale and soft. Roman thought she looked even younger than his teenage son.

Not this one, Money Jane said. This one is a true warrior. He fights for what he believes in.

Her partner walked towards the entrance. Time to go, he commanded.

I’m a fighter too, Money Jane whispered. She kissed Roman on the cheek. You’re not going to remember me, but I’ll remember you. Until next time, princess. She grinned and then pulled her mask back over her mouth. She ran over to the two medium sacks, tossed them over her shoulder, and then scurried out of the vault with her accomplice.

Roman was left alone to stare at the light that flickered across his helmet. He had failed, but he knew that he would get another chance to conquer this enemy. Next time he would be sharper. Next time he would be stronger.

Next time, the dangerous wizards wouldn’t escape.

Chapter 1. Work Hard, Play Hard

The flame was still. It didn’t flicker or dance. Kase was in control.

He cupped his hands around the candle wick and relaxed. He focused on everything Lenia had taught him. He kept his eyes wide so he could see clearer. He kept his mind sharp, so he wasn’t distracted. He kept his heart free to feel every emotion; his power worked at its best when he could open himself up to it completely.

He took a deep breath and moved his hands. Nothing happened. The flame remained burning on the wick.

He cupped it again, but now it started to flicker. He was losing control. He tried to relax, but it only wavered more. He sighed, and the flame disappeared. He dropped his hands from the candle in defeat. His arms flopped onto the table, and he buried his head in them.

You had it! Lenia said excitedly.

Kase glanced at the table beside him and smiled. Not quite, he replied, disheartened.

Lenia stopped what she was working on, grabbed her trident, and joined Kase at his table. She put a hand on his arm. Her touch was soft and gentle. Keep trying, she said. Becoming a wizard takes time.

I know, I know, Kase said. He sat up straight and sighed. It’s the same as being a warrior.

Lenia’s gaze darted left. "Right, it’s exactly the same," she said.

That’s not what I meant. Kase laughed. "It’s just … I spent a lot of time practising my warrior skills before I came to The Academy, so all the exercises