Trey Roberts and the Ancestor's Wish

by Lee Magnus

  Trey Roberts

  and the

  Ancestor’s Wish

  ~

  Book 2

  By

  Lee Magnus

  Cover by Levierre

  Tanarkin House

  Text @ 2019 by Lee Magnus

  Cover design by Levierre @2019 Lee Magnus

  Trey Roberts and all related characters and elements are TM of and @ Lee Magnus

  “The Bare Necessities” Terry Gilkyson 1967

  Trey Roberts publishing rights @ Lee Magnus

  All rights reserved. Published by Michael Matthew Publishing. The dragon logo and all related logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Michael Matthew Publishing.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Tanarkin House

  An imprint of Michael Matthew Publishing

  First Tanarkin House paperback edition November 2019

  The Library of Congress Catalog 2019952258

  ISBN 978-1-7340748-3-3 (Ebook)

  ISBN 978-1-7340748-2-6 (Paperback)

  This would not have been possible without my boys.

  Table of Contents

  Nick’s Secret

  Teamwork

  Disk Play

  Playing with the Big Boys

  Nafarl the Wise

  Dream Walker

  The Key

  The Librarian

  A New Friend

  The Map

  The Grey Swamp

  Antonin

  King Koltek

  Lake Oshugar

  The Pheonix

  Birth of a Prophecy

  Believe Before You See

  Courage

  Home Again

  Grandpa Patrick

  In Utah

  Trey’s adventure continues in book three

  Nick’s Secret

  Trey Roberts settled in his room after showering off the day. He sat in a chair and stared at the sword he acquired from a flying cat-man.

  This has to be a dream, he thought. There’s no way I did all these things: fought a bunch of scary undead goblins with a mysterious woman named Lyza, befriended an electric furball, was captured and escaped from Centaurs, defeated a multi-sized bug in a riddle contest, teleported to Egypt, China and the Highlands.

  Trey shivered as he thought about the Etherios where he had an ominous conversation with his Grandpa’s spirit then finished off befriending a dragon.

  This is completely unreal, as he continued with his thoughts, I mean look, the house looks as if nothing happened there are no rogglets or enormous snakes. Teleportation doesn’t exist. I’ll wake soon and be freaked out at how real this dream was.

  He gathered the disk artifact he pulled from the snake demon, the Discolursor Annular that revealed Seth’s true form, the bag holding the key to the Etherios spirit realm, an odd shaped gold coin and a small case containing a fireproof, an energy and a cloaking potion. He then placed them all into the chair next to the sword. He removed the picture of him and his father from a drawer and displayed it on his nightstand. After a few minutes he fell asleep from exhaustion.

  Trey stood yards away from the edge of a desolate cliff which rose above an ancient bustling city a distance below. It was surrounded by desert. Sitting together, a woman and infant sang a pleasant song amid sand colored structures. A thin lonely cloud drifted in the distance. A small grey bird stared keenly.

  Trey asked, “What is it bird? What do you say?”

  A whispered thought of foreboding. An image of a man, no something much worse, a red demon with flaming sword in hand.

  “Shriek! Shriek! Shriek!” screamed the bird hopping up and down.

  Instant fire and destruction ravaged the city. Screams of women and crying babies filled Trey’s heart. The long dark face of the demon turned. Blood red creases painted stony cheeks. Black hole eyes, as if no light could escape, transitioned to yellow with crimson pupils. Proud of his deed, the scarlet demon raised the sword toward the cliff of which Trey helplessly stood. A blinding bolt of plasma blasted Trey into consciousness.

  “Treeeeey! Treeeeeey, it’s tiiiime to wake uuuuuup!” he heard his mom sing from down the hall on a peaceful Friday morning. He opened his eyes slowly and shivered off the surreal dream. Rubbing them clear he focused on the sword leaning against the chair where he left it the night before. He tossed his head back and said, “It can’t be real! There’s no way! Arggg!”

  “Trey? Did you say something?”

  “No Mom!”

  “Hurry up, breakfast is getting cold!”

  The small house overflowed with aromas of sage and biscuits. Trey’s stomach roared.

  “Ok! Be there in a minute!”

  He looked back at the pile of items in the chair and became startled when he noticed something was missing. “Olerand’s Disk! Where is it!”

  He looked on and around the chair. Nothing.

  “Where’d it go?”

  Trey ran down the hall, “Mom! Have you seen -” He brushed the pocket of his red and black checkered flannel lounge pants. “What’s this?”

  He pulled out the disk.

  “Did I put that there?” he said confused. “I thought I left it on the chair.”

  “What was that, Trey? Do you need something?” him mom asked from the kitchen.

  “Uh, no mom. Sorry.”

  He put the disk back in his pocket, then joined his mom for a breakfast of scrambled eggs, biscuits and smoked sausage.

  “Thanks, mom. Breakfast is great,” he said stuffing a piece of sausage into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in three days – which was mostly accurate.

  She stepped from the sink, set her hands on her hips and said with contempt, “Did you leave your manners back at Marcus’? Use a fork, please.”

  He mumbled with a mouth full of food, “Sorry, Mom. I just forgot how hungry I was. Why the big breakfast anyway?”

  “No reason. I’ve barely seen you these past few days. I missed you and just wanted to do something nice.”

  “It’s nice. Thanks,” he said smiling then forked in another piece of sausage.

  Trey set his fork down while he struggled with a strong thought. He then asked, “Mom?”

  She sat next to him and said, “What’s bothering you, Sweet T?”

  He temporarily felt abashed with the nickname. It usually didn’t bother him (he normally welcomed it) but somehow, today, he felt a little too grown up for the childish name. He brushed his feelings aside and asked, “Did you know Mr. Smith? Don Smith?”

  She studied her son, “No. I never met him. I’ve only met Clara once. She was very nice at the time and never mentioned her husband.”

  Trey thought she seemed to be holding back details.

  “You know? The rumors aren’t true.” He continued with his breakfast.

  She seemed ashamed but may have been more surprised that Trey knew what she was thinking.

  “Rumors? What do you mean?” she said as if she didn’t already know.

  “Mom,” Trey said frustrated. “I know everyone thinks he left her for another woman. It’s not true.”

  “And how do you know that?” she asked like she didn’t expect an answer.

  “He came home yesterday.”

  “Oh-my-god,” she said slowly. Her eyes were buggy. “After all this time?” She looked off in the distance. She returned her attention to her thirteen-year-old son. “How do you know that?”

  “I, u
h, found him – I mean, I found out, uh…” He struggled for the words. He hadn’t expected to be questioned today about how he rescued Don from a dragon in another world with the help of his dead Grandpa. “I, uh, Nick! I mean, Mr. H told me on the way home last night.” He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Mr. Hampton? Really?”

  “Yeah. He, uh, said he found him while travelling in Egypt.”

  “Egypt? What was Don doing there? What was Mr. Hampton doing there?”

  “He, didn’t say,” Trey replied with evasive eyes.

  “Huh.” She said. “Imagine that. You never know what to expect from day to day do you?”

  Trey couldn’t hold in an uncomfortable chuckle, “You sure are right about that, Mom.”

  “So, why all this talk about Mr. Smith? What does he have to do with you?”

  Trey shifted in the seat. He chopped his eggs slowly. His next words were difficult to say – as were all the times before since his dad left them. “Did you know that Dad and Don knew each other?”

  She looked at him like only a mother could when her child was hurting. She placed her hand on his and said, “No, baby. I didn’t know. Your father never mentioned him.”

  Trey, a little more anxious replied, “Did you notice he and Mr. Smith left about the same time?” He shuffled again and continued, “You say you hardly talk to Dad anymore and he hasn’t come to see me in over three years. Do you think that maybe he’s in trouble too? Like Mr. Smith was?” He couldn’t help, just like any other thirteen-year-old, hide a hopeful expression.

  “Honey,” she said in a soft voice. She touched his face. He looked down. “I don’t know what your father’s doing. All I know is that whatever he’s into is more important that you or I.” She then grasped his hand firmly, “I know it’s great that Mr. Smith is home.”

  Her closed-eyed grimace held back all but one tear. She wiped that one away then continued firmly, “Your father is different. You can’t remain hopeful that he will dramatically return home one day.”

  It was just like she slapped him. The truth, as painful as it was, is what Trey expected.

  Trey thought to himself, I know it’s improbable that Dad will ever come back to us. Even if he were in trouble like Mr. Smith, what are the chances I could actually help?

  “I know.” Trey replied. He thought he was stupid for believing just because Mr. Smith knew his father that maybe he could bring his own father home too.

  He held his head for a second then a thought crossed his mind, that’s right! Mr. Smith knows my dad! He brightened up and said, “Thanks for the talk, Mom! I love you!” He then tossed his plate in the sink and rushed back to his room where he wrapped the disk in a sock and placed it along with the Etherios key and potions into a drawer. He picked up the sword, jabbed and sliced at the air a few times then hid it between his mattress and box spring. He gathered his backpack, then left for school.

  His mind stirred endlessly on the way to school. Where was his father? Does Mr. Smith know? Does Lyza know? Would he be able to save him if he needed saving? He walked the sidewalk anxious and full of hope.

  ~~

  “Kid! Where’ve you been?” Marcus said. He had too much gel in his hair. It was slick and shiny – distracting Trey from the conversation. “What’s the deal? You don’t answer texts anymore? Are you breaking up with me?” said Marcus jokingly to Trey in a school hallway.

  “No, dork. I’m not breaking up with you. I was, uh, sick the past couple days. Sorry I didn’t call.”

  Trey easily recalled nearly dying several times at the hands of ghoulish creatures in his house, Egypt and China; battling a zombie dog in a magical realm in the Libyan desert; literally dying when he defeated a demon in a fairy kingdom; and outrunning unwavering henchmen in a tiny oasis town. He believed his “sick” excuse was unsatisfactory at describing the past couple days to his best friend. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to share these experiences with him. He felt he needed to warn him of what might happen – no – what will happen (according to Grandpa and the Keeper).

  But this information is too much for Marcus now. He thought. Marcus won’t understand. Plus, Lyza said we’d be safe for some time so there’s no urgency in bringing him in…just yet.

  Trey had a terrible feeling Marcus would be involved. In every movie he had seen, the bad guy always goes after the protagonist’s family and best friend. It’s already been necessary to protect mom. It’s only a matter of time that they discover Marcus.

  I have to keep him safe.

  Marcus looked at Trey. Disbelieving eyes revealed he knew there was more to the story, but decided to wait it out and said excitedly, “You’ve missed a lot. Jenny Jacobson broke up with Tom. Do you think she’d go out with me?”

  Trey pulled his attention away from the past days and Marcus’ hair gel, “Jenny Jacobson is one of the smartest girls in school.”

  “Don’t forget she was also homecoming queen last year.”

  “Exactly. Unless you pick up your grades or become a handsome jock, I think your chances are slim. But what do I know. I’ve never had a girlfriend.”

  “I think she’ll dig my quirky comedian personality.”

  “No doubt. I think, however, you’ll find more interesting news this week besides who dumped who.”

  “Like what? You have good dirt on someone? Wait. I’m talking to the strait-laced Trey Roberts. If it’s not dirt, then what could be more important than Jenny Jacobson? Oh, crap. Don’t look, it’s Donald.”

  Marcus turned toward the lockers, trying to become smaller so he wouldn’t be seen. Trey stepped out to greet his new friend.

  “What’s up, Trey?” Donald said happily.

  They high fived after which, Donald gave Trey a quick manly one-armed hug.

  “Nothing much,” Trey responded with a playful smile.

  “You have time to hang out before your game Saturday?” Donald asked.

  “Yeah! Absolutely!” Trey wanted to talk to Don personally about his dad. Maybe he could make that happen Saturday with Donald. “Want to meet around 11 at the park then grab some lunch?”

  “That’d be great. See you then!” He hugged Trey again just a little longer than before – he closed his eyes to feel it more. He then said with a whisper so only Trey could hear, “Thanks again. Dad told me what you did to rescue him. You don’t have any idea how much you mean to me and my mom.”

  “It was my pleasure. I’m happy it all worked out.”

  Donald pulled away. His eyes were watery and a little red but no tears. “See you at eleven. What’s up Marcus!” he said before walking off. Marcus stood bug-eyed as if he witnessed the most unbelievable occurrence of his life. His gaping mouth could hardly form the words, “What … the heck … just happened?”

  “I told you something more interesting than Jenny Jacobson happened.”

  “No. Seriously. What just happened.”

  Trey smiled.

  “Did Donald Smith; the guy that chased us through the playground earlier this week, the guy that I’ve been avoiding all week, the same guy that tormented you for years, just hug you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What the heck. What happened? What’d you do to make him not pound you?”

  “We made up.”

  “Really? That’s all you have?” he said with low cut eyes.

  “I helped him out with something.”

  “Like algebra? Don’t tell me you’re doing his homework.”

  “No. Nothing like that. I can’t really tell you right now. Maybe later.”

  “You have to tell me. I can’t wait for later,” Marcus pleaded.

  Trey smiled and turned. Marcus chased him down the hall.

  “You mean like later next period later or after school later?”

  “Just later.”

  “Dude! You’re killing me! I have to know. Please?”

  Trey stopped. “Look. There’s Jenny Jacobson.”

  “Yeah.” Marcus said. He looked at the girl
and said to Trey, “You suck you know.”

  “I know. You gonna to talk to her?”

  “No. I’m gonna go make her laugh,” he said with a level of confidence only Marcus Bouer could possess.

  Marcus straightened his tucked in shirt then crossed the hall targeting a tall girl wearing a tight-fitting knee length skirt, blue top and long brown hair braided to one side. She smiled when Marcus casually approached with a quirky strut. Trey made out “Hey Marcus” from her lightly painted lips. She was easily half a foot taller than Trey’s enthusiastic friend. He said something to her at which she giggled, then returned a comment Trey couldn’t make out. Marcus waved bye, then returned to Trey.

  “So, how’d it go?”

  “She thought I was funny, just like I said.”

  “Good for you Marcus. That’s the power of intention at work. Now all you have to do is ask her to the Homecoming Dance.”

  “Holy crows I forgot about the dance! You think she’d go with me?”

  “I don’t know buddy. You’re on your own with that one.”

  “What about you? Who are you taking?”

  “I’m not going. I’ve got too much on my mind lately.”

  “Yeah? Anything I can help with? But none of that boring sciency stuff you’re into.”

  “No. Just some personal things that I have to work out on my own.”

  “Well to add to that, I’m still mad you didn’t text me.”

  “I know. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I’ll get over it when you buy me ice cream after the movie this Sunday.”

  “Sure thing,” Trey said.

  “Uh Oh. You have one other thing to add to your personal list,” Marcus said looking up the hall.

  “What do you mean? What is it?” Trey asked curiously – convinced Marcus couldn’t know of anything that would stand up against his issues with Commerand – but he was wrong.

  “There’s someone else that would’ve liked a heads up,” Marcus said urging Trey to look ahead at Sarah waltzing down the hall toward them.

  She wore a flower print sundress that waved as she swayed gracefully. The alluring article rose into two broad straps that barely draped each shoulder. Her rolling blonde hair fell to one side exposing a luscious neck on the other. She flaunted a smile that would suck the wind from the largest sail.