We’re now only sixteen hours from the release of Axtara – Magic and Mischief! What better time than now to give you all a bit of a head start? Or, from another angle, a more meaty teaser to get your appetite wetted for more dragon banking adventures!

And so, without further ado, I present to you the first half of the opening chapter of Axtara – Magic and Mischief. Get reading, and then secure your pre-order copy today so that you can be ready when Magic and Mischief arrives!

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In the Kingdom of Elnacier, the westernmost kingdom of the known world, the sun began to rise. It rose over the fields of Overhill, where farmers were already hard at work tending to their summer crops. It rose over Barpast, where yawning guards took their posts for another day of vigil. And it rose over the capital city itself, calling forth the slumbering residents to another day.

Just east of that city, down the main road and up an offshoot, lay a clearing amid the thick forests of pine. In that clearing was a home, built into the side of a hill in what had once been a cave. Large windows now looked out from under the hillside, while a large door off to the side allowed for entry. A wooden sign hung above the entryway, golden text gleaming under the morning sunlight as it proclaimed its title to the world.

Axtara, it read in large script. And then below that, in smaller but no less bright wording: Banking and Finance.

The door burst outward, the motion stirring the sign, and a second later a dragon rushed out into the clearing, spinning about as she closed and locked the door with almost as much speed. Her emerald scales gleamed under the sun, freshly polished, and she took a moment to spread her wings, giving them a gentle stretch and soaking in the warmth of the rising sun.

First bells haven’t rung yet, Axtara thought, glancing up at the sign and feeling a flash of pride as she spotted her name. So there’s still time. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t hurry, but … Door locked, she glanced at the front window, making a final check of her appearance and running her eyes over herself. Scales cleaned and polished, she thought. Horns … She eyed the twin protrusions that grew out of her head, wending first outward but then back in as they narrowed to slender, graceful points. A little dirty, but at least there’s nothing caught in them.

She’d given a presentation about her services once without realizing that a strand of moss had been swinging from the tip of one horn, and been mortified when the client had finally ventured forth enough courage to ask her about it. Let’s not repeat that experience.

Her eyes flashed to her teeth next, her grin giving her a quick view of the sharp implements. Nothing stuck between them. Not that she planned on baring her teeth to a client—most found it unsettling at best unless they knew her quite well—but it was good to check all the same. And my breath … A quick huff confirmed that there was at least nothing offensive about it. She peered through the glass, fruitlessly trying to catch sight of the clock on the other side though it didn’t face in the proper direction.

Relax, she reminded herself. You checked it before you rushed out. There was still some time before first bells rang. Plenty of time to fly to Elnacier and meet with her latest client before his departure.

Satisfied, Axtara stepped away from the window and spread her wings. A quick check to the satchel at her chest confirmed that it had been properly secured, and she sprang skyward, beating her wings to gain altitude before wheeling in the direction of the city of Elnacier.

Almost a city, she thought as she rose above the pines. Once she’d needed to climb high enough to see Elnacier before setting her course, but after calling the place her home for almost a year directing herself toward it had become second nature. More of a town, really. It was certainly magnitudes smaller than where she’d resided before her move, working for her uncle’s bank out in Helmson, the capital of the Delarian Empire. You could fit all of Elnacier inside a single district there with room to spare, Axtara thought as she flew over the treetops. And likely all of Easy Bay and Overhill besides.

There was much that was different about life in Elnacier. Her initial arrival had been rocky—and not just because she’d been the first banker to ever set up business in the frontier kingdom. No, she thought with a faint bit of embarrassed amusement. That would have been difficult enough without my forgetting to ever imply or indicate to anyone in Elnacier that their new banker would be, in fact, a dragon. The memories of the Bad Days, when barbarous dragons had been raiders of civilization rather than participants in it, had been fresh indeed in the people’s minds. Memories aided and abetted through rumor spawned by the one individual who hadn’t wanted to see a banker arrive in the fledgling kingdom: Fendall Derin, the kingdom’s Minister of Finance.

Only because he was cheating everyone out of their taxes, the king included, Axtara thought as she passed over an outskirt homestead. Skimming off the top for decades after Adrick had declared himself king and given him the post. An act that had become increasingly obvious as Axtara had set about attempting to provide financial services to the various residents of the kingdom.

He likely would have gotten away with it for longer if not for Mia. Axtara’s friendship with the princess had come as a complete surprise, but looking back it appeared almost inevitable. Two young ladies of similar age, experience, and social standing? Axtara thought with a wry grin. I only didn’t consider it because I was so used to the social circles of much larger empires. But in Elnacier, small enough that a farmer could walk to the king’s manor and speak with the royal family face to face … Mia and I meeting was inevitable.

Granted, said meeting had begun with a crossbow bolt being fired into Axtara’s front door, but once the misunderstanding had been smoothed over each of them had found that there was a lot to like about the other. And Mia’s apology by way of demonstrating to the rest of the citizens of Elnacier that Axtara was a resident of respect certainly hadn’t hurt, Fendall’s machinations to the contrary.

And in the end he didn’t get away with it. A cold chill passed through her—quick, but a chill nonetheless—as the memory of Fendall’s pistol pointing at her flashed back through her mind. The scars on her chest itched, and she had to consciously remind herself not to glance down at them, instead keeping her gaze straight ahead. The ball had shattered when it had been fired—a poor cast, King Adrick had informed her, and the only reason the shot hadn’t done more damage. But thinking about it still made her feel queasy.

Fendall had escaped, but his ill-gotten gains hadn’t. Unknown to the minister, the funds he’d slowly siphoned away from the kingdom hadn’t been shipped out of it as he’d thought, but instead languished in crates in the back room of Elnacier’s official courier post, the former man-at-arms of the king who ran the place having been too lazy and too suspicious of Fendall’s hushed explanations to ever bother sending the money out.

And the kingdom got it all back. The faint chill of her injury faded, replaced by a grin as she thought back on the reaction of the kingdom to the news that not only had everyone been overtaxed for decades, but that the king had recovered those payments and would be distributing them back to the populace as swiftly as possible.

For most the excess of a season wasn’t much, often not even amounting to a single bar. But over two decades?

That winter had been quite busy for her. Fendall’s flight had left him without time to destroy his records, and so the king and queen had hired the only other financier they knew of to make sure that everyone in the kingdom received back what they’d been owed. It had taken her weeks—Delightful, wonderful weeks!—buried in a study at the king’s manor with her abacus and surrounded by paper, but everyone had been repaid what they were owed, every number checked.

Of course, she had been well compensated for her time and effort. And that was the first stone, she thought as her destination came into view. It hasn’t quite become an avalanche of fortune yet, but the first few rocks have begun their journey.

Currently the changes were still small. From above she could make out recently rethatched roofs, and fresh boards sprinkled along fences and walls where Elnacier’s people had done the most sensible thing with their newfound windfalls and made small fixes and changes that they’d been working towards for some time now. Even the bakery now bore a sign that was reminiscent of Axtara’s own, proudly calling out its wares though all in Elnacier knew what they sold.

Not that I would begrudge them in taking a bit of pride in such a thing, Axtara thought as she began to circle the town green, catching sight of her client’s wagon parked nearby. And these small changes are just the beginning. Elnacier has a lot to offer, and I’ll be here for every minute of it!

“Good morning to you, Lady Axtara!” Elnacier’s priest was sitting atop the front steps of the church, puffing a pipe and waving at her as she came in for a landing.

“Morning, Brother Badgerick,” Axtara called back as she landed.

“You’re up and about early,” the priest observed, rapping his pipe against the church’s stone steps to clear it.

Axtara nodded. “I am. I have a delivery to make before first bells.”

“Ah.” Badgerick rose, smoothing his robes with one hand. “Well, I won’t keep you from it, my lady. May your day—and your business—fare well!”

“Yours as well,” Axtara said, offering the man a faint bow. “And pass my greetings to your wife.” The aged priest nodded, waving again with one hand as he retreated into the church.

Now then, Axtara thought as she turned toward the far end of the green. Let’s speak with Nadwell. The man was already in sight, though he didn’t appear to have noticed her, tending to the hitching of his horses at the front of his family’s large wagon. Axtara made her way down the green, watching as the trader gave each set of reins a final tug, making sure that they were properly in place. Only then did he turn and notice her, spreading his arms wide and grinning.

“Lady Axtara!” He stepped around the front of the wagon as she came to a halt, giving her a sideways nod of the head by way of greeting, his actions and his accent both Sicarian. “Your timing is impeccable.”

“Sir Nadwell,” she replied, giving him a polite bow of her head as she sat back on her hindquarters. Even seated her head was comfortably nearly a foot above the man’s own despite his height, but he didn’t show any unease at the difference. Though he was from the core kingdoms, and clearly familiar with her kind. “Your ledger,” she continued before he could speak, procuring the item in question from her satchel and holding it out to the man. “Balanced and calculated.”

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I’ll stop there, I think. It’s a good place to take a break. You can read the rest of the story in sixteen hours when Axtare – Magic and Mischief arrives at last!