by Peter Last
© Copyright 2015
Bluewater Publications
Protected
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the Publisher.
Published by:
Bluewater Publications
www.BluewaterPublications.com
Credits
Ø Robert Rausch artist with Gas Studio of Tuscumbia, AL for his extraordinary work on the book's cover.
Ø Scott Campbell created illustration on the front cover
Ø David Walker graphic artist that designed the map
Ø Sheri Dee Developmental Editor
Acknowledgements
I would like to express my sincere gratitude to everyone who helped make this book a reality. I would specifically like to thank the following individuals who made this book possible through their constant help, suggestions, and snide comments.
v My mom and dad for bearing through twelve years of this, even when my dad wishes I would get a ‘real job’ over the summer!
v My sister Rachel for her constant advice on revisions. Even though she and I disagree on some aspects of writing, she still continues to make my work better.
v My family for pretending to be interested in the story line and all the ‘mind benders’ in the plot, even though I secretly think they don’t care as much as they let on.
v Ben for his suggested improvements to the story. Even though I haven’t seen you in over a year, your contributions continue to affect my work!
v Ben Broyles, for believing my work was good enough to publish, even before he read it. Also for his invaluable help with promotional filming and marketing assistance.
v My fiancée for continuing to stick with me through this, even when date night gets postponed so I can do ‘book stuff’.
v Tyler Yasaka for his fantastic work with my website.
v Sheri Dee for her fantastic editorial and proofreading skills; also, for all the marketing guidance.
v Dean, Katie, Tammy, and many others who have helped with the review and editing of the book.
v All my fans who read the first book and continue to inquire about the future of the series. I couldn’t do what I do without you guys.
v Finally, and most importantly, God for giving me the ability and opportunity to do this. This book is all for you.
Contents
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
Wellter was the lead for this mission. He would have gladly been the operative, but the commander had some sort of in with these wizards. This was unexpected, though not a shock. The commander was a powerful magician and well respected, although not much was known about his past. A strong association with the world of magic was a given, but a history riddled with dark magic was also assumed. Whatever the case, no one doubted that his allegiance was with Elohim now.
The current mission was typical for the group. The plan was to use the commander’s contacts to relieve a particularly mighty wizard of his magic. The problem was that the contacts were also wizards and had only agreed to help the commander if they split the power among themselves. The scheme had grown from there. The commander would drain the wizard of his magic. When the three wizards working with the commander closed in, Jothnial would move in and distract them long enough for the commander to transfer the power to Scrogg. Wellter and Jared would be held in reserve in case something went wrong, and something was likely to go wrong. When wizards were involved, it usually did.
Wellter glanced back to where Jothnial and Jared were playing Lex Tanna. The commander and Scrogg were the only two who had already been deployed to play their parts in the scheme. The commander was nowhere to be seen, but for the past hour Scrogg had been moving about the market that Wellter’s window overlooked. It was getting close to “go time,” and Wellter’s nerves were beginning to fray. He looked at Scrogg again and scanned the area around him. Without looking away, he snapped his fingers at Jared and Jothnial and motioned them over.
“What’s up, Wellter?” Jared said. Since he was the backup, any change in plan would likely involve him.
“Do you see the bald man about fifteen feet to the north of Scrogg?” Wellter asked. “That man's been tailing Scrogg for the past half an hour. Fifty to one he’s a magician.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Jared asked. Although he already knew, he wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page.
“Take care of him,” Wellter answered.
“And if you’re wrong about him?” Jared asked.
“That’s a chance that we’ll have to take,” Wellter said. “Don’t do anything lethal to him, of course, but take him out of the picture.”
“Will do,” Jared said. With a blast of wind he disappeared from the room. Wellter and Jothnial looked into the square and, though there was no wind that day, saw the cloth walls of a stall jump forward from a breeze. Moments later, Jared stepped out from behind the booth and started making his way toward the bald man that Wellter had identified.
“He’s not very good at that, is he?” Jothnial commented.
“Teleporting?” Wellter asked. “No, he’s definitely an attack magic guy. Stealth and subterfuge have never been his strong suit.”
“And you asked him to take care of the bald man?” Jothnial asked. “Don’t you think he’ll cause a scene?”
“I said it wasn’t his strong suit, not that he couldn’t do it,” Wellter said. “He’ll do fine. Just make sure that you do your job.”
“Speaking of which, is that the commander?”
“Yes, it is,” Wellter said. The man that he was with would be the mark, the wizard that that they were targeting. “He’s ahead of schedule, but that’s fine.”
“Where are the others?” Jothnial asked, scanning the crowd for the commander’s compatriots.
“I wouldn’t expect them until after the transfer has occurred,” Wellter explained. “Just be prepared to get down there and distract them without letting on that you are a magician.”
“You can count on me,” Jothnial said.
Wellter turned his attention back to his commander and the man that he was with. From the way that they were interacting, it was almost as if the two were friends. Perhaps they had been in the past. Whatever their history was, it was certainly helping in the current situation. Everything was going according to plan, but Wellter was still unsure of how the commander planned on siphoning the target’s power. That was something that he had been mysteriously quiet on. Apparently the other wizards had come up with a way to do it, one that the commander seemed to think would work. His confidence was enough for Wellter.
The commander and his companion were about in the center of the market area when things were set in motion. Gripping the hilt of his sword with one hand, he wrapped his free arm around his companion’s shoulders. It was no more than a very powerful twitch, but Wellter could tell that the transfer of power had begun. The commander’s friend began to struggle, but it was too late. In the moments that it took for the transfer to take place, the target seemed to shrink in size and an aura, unnoticed by Wellter until it was gone, disappeared. In seconds he was reduced to a shell of what he had been before and collapsed to
the ground. Physically there was nothing wrong with him, but the sudden absence of power had rocked him to his core.
Wellter turned to Jothnial, only to notice the elf was already gone. He was definitely good; Wellter hadn’t noticed a thing. He looked back out the window and saw Jothnial step out from behind a stall. But where were the other three wizards the commander had mentioned? There they were now, entering the market on the opposite side from Jothnial. Wellter steeled himself for the worst. It was times like these that plans went wrong.
He saw the plan begin to fall apart before his very eyes. Jared, unaware of what was going on, was still on a collision path with the bald magician. Jothnial vanished and teleported across the market to where the commander three contacts had just entered. The obvious goal would be to appear in such a way that they would not notice, but something went wrong. The power transfer had been a large one and was certain to create a disturbance in the surrounding area; Wellter could already begin to feel the effects, and he was much farther removed from the anomaly than Jothnial. Whether due to conditions out of his control or just his own incompetence, Jothnial materialized directly in front of the commander’s three compatriots. The looks on their faces gave away what they were thinking; the appearance of another magician at this location at this time was no coincidence. They looked toward the commander who had already begun the spell for the second power transfer. At this point it was still possible for the plan to work, albeit a bit sloppily; however, Wellter was unprepared for what happened next.
Jared finally reached the bald magician and attempted to put him down with a spell, but the target was prepared. A simple ward shot the spell skyward where it exploded. For a few moments nothing happened as the people stood, too shocked at what had just happened to move. Then pandemonium broke out among the market stalls as magic began to fly in all directions. Evidently not only had the commander’s friends planned on double crossing him, they had brought an army to back them up. The commander spotted Scrogg across the market and knew he would never reach him in time due to the bedlam. His fingers began to twitch with the creation of a new spell.
“Don’t do it,” Wellter said to the empty room.
The commander flicked a wrist toward Scrogg, then pulled his sword from its sheath just in time to block a slash from a weapon that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere. A ward deflected a fireball into a stall, causing it to go up in flames. Things were going from bad to worse very quickly, and Wellter knew that there was only one reasonable course of action. In the blink of an eye, he teleported out of the room and was behind Jothnial. All three of the wizards that he was supposed to be distracting were hammering away at his hastily constructed protection spell; it wouldn’t last much longer. Grabbing a fistful of Jothnial’s shirt, Wellter teleported both of them to where the commander was fighting off a half dozen attackers.
“Get us over to Jared and Scrogg!” Wellter yelled to Jothnial. He grabbed hold of the commander’s belt just in time.
The three magicians materialized in the shallow crater one of Jared’s effective but flashy spells had created. Scrogg had already constructed a dome shield large enough for the five magicians to fit under, and it was taking fire from every corner of the market place. It was a barrier designed to keep out magical attack while allowing physical objects through. Though not an ideal solution in this situation, it would work.
“Scrogg and I will maintain the shield,” the commander yelled. He was clearly in charge again. “Jared, blast anyone who is stupid enough to come inside. Wellter and Jothnial, get us out of here!”
Wellter grabbed the backs of the commander’s and Scrogg’s shirts while Jothnial took hold of Jared’s and Wellter’s belts. Together the two magicians worked to teleport out of the area. There were clearly some magicians whose job it was to keep them from escaping, and they were making it difficult indeed. Every direction seemed to be blocked by the ethereal powers of the other magicians; Wellter tried to push through, but was unable. Then, so suddenly that it shocked Wellter himself, the group disappeared.
Wellter had always thought that it was a strange sensation to teleport. It was impossible to describe with words the feeling of dissolving from one place and whizzing through space to arrive at another location. The transfer was always instantaneous, but it did not feel as such. There was always a length of time to mentally prepare for what would be on the other side, but this time, Wellter did not know their destination. Clearly it was Jothnial who had gotten them out alive.
The trip was much shorter than Wellter had imagined, and he materialized in knee-deep water, almost falling forward into it. There was little light in this place, but the stench gave it away instantly.
“Good going, guys,” Scrogg said sarcastically. “The sewer was exactly where I wanted to end up.”
“Well, at least we’re not getting attacked from all sides at the moment,” Wellter shot back.
“Be quiet, both of you,” the commander’s voice said out of the darkness. “Jothnial and Wellter, can you get us out of here?”
“No problem,” Wellter answered rather irritably. The next spell was not his best. They vanished in a flash, one that ignited the fumes in the sewer, shooting flames out of every outlet and collapsing a section about a hundred yards long.
******
“Based on the fact that no one is saying much, I’m going to assume that our plan failed,” the commander said. All of the magicians had bathed, but the smell of the sewers still hung in the air.
“I never received the power transfer, if that’s what you’re asking,” Scrogg said, turning away from the window out of which he had been looking. Its bars cast shadows from the setting sun across the floor. The headquarters of a secret magician organization being inside a jail cell may have puzzled some people, but as the commander said, “If you don’t want someone to find something, put it in the last place they’ll expect to find it.” A jail was certainly the last place anyone would look for this organization.
“I don’t get it,” Jothnial said. “If you didn’t transfer to Scrogg, wouldn’t you still have the power?”
“Because the commander siphoned the power, he was the target when the double cross happened,” Wellter explained. “He got rid of the power like any sensible person would have done.”
“He would have had to do a long range transfer,” Jared said. “But they’re only theoretical.”
“Oh, they work alright,” the commander said. “The only problem was, apparently it didn’t go where I intended.”
“But if you don’t have the power anymore,” Scrogg said, “and I don’t have it either…”
“Someone or something did receive the transfer, though who or what is still a mystery,” Wellter explained. Of all of the magicians, he had the broadest spectrum of knowledge.
“Which is why this is far from over,” the commander said. “Someone out there has the power that I transferred, and with as many magicians and wizards as were in that market today, the probability of it being in one of their hands is quite high.”
“That means we have to track them all down and deal with them,” Jared said.
“Only if you want to spend a whole lot of time chasing impossible trails and dead ends with the hopes of turning something up,” the commander said. “The three wizards that I made the deal with are the ones that we need to worry about. They’re the only ones who know the extent of the power which is at stake. If we simply sit back for a while, they will eventually find out who has acquired it. All we have to do is keep tabs on them so that when they turn up something, we can swoop in and take it from them.”
“So, we just sit and wait?” Wellter asked. He knew the commander better than most, and even he was surprised at this.
“No,” the commander said. “We may not know where the power is, but I do know that none of the three wizards will know how to extract it when they do find it. That is why I was the one to siphon the power today. This means they will need magicians who have the a
bility to perform the transfer. If we can take care of them, it will at least slow the process down. In any case, we will keep our ears open for news. Whenever the vessel for the power is uncovered, we will finish what we started today.”
One
A cold wind blew the rain into Senndra’s face, making her pull her cloak even tighter around her body. The rain had started two days ago and had not let up at all since it had arrived, leading some people to think that it was of unnatural origin. Magical or not, the rain had turned the dirt of the path into mud, forcing Senndra to focus her entire attention on the ground in front of her so that she did not slide down the slick mountainside. The path leveled out just long enough to allow a large stream of water to cross it. Senndra jumped over it, splashing mud on her pants and cloak, but she didn’t care; she just wanted to get to her dorm room. She had started down the hill when the rain seemed to have let up slightly; however, it began to pour again, this time with a vengeance. All Senndra wanted was the warm fire in her room.
The dorm came into view, and Senndra quickened her step. She almost lost her balance as she slipped and slid down the path, coming to a jarring stop against the door of her room. Fumbling with the latch, she managed to raise it, push the door inward, and tumble inside. Rita lay on the floor in front of the fire, her head resting on the back of a dragon that lounged behind her. This was her dragon, Sowpa, who had hatched only three weeks before and was already the size of a large dog. Sowpa’s scales were a shiny blue color, and a row of bumps ran down her back and tail. She stretched one of her front legs out in her sleep and extended the claws momentarily before sheathing them again. These claws were sharp enough to shred flesh, bone, and even some dragon scales.
Senndra changed into dry clothes and spread the wet ones out in front of the hearth. She tossed a few more logs on the fire before stretching out on the floor beside her friend. As she watched Rita and Sowpa sleeping, her thoughts turned to her own dragon. When she had returned to the academy a little more than half a year ago, he had been slightly smaller than Sowpa was now; however, he had not stayed that size for very long. He had grown rapidly until reaching his current size: from his nose to the tip of his tail, he measured around ninety feet long, and his wingspan stretched one hundred and eighty feet; he would not get any larger than this. His growth had been watched closely and with much speculation. Due to the character traits of the only other known brown dragon, many assumed that Feddir would be substandard, unable to grow scales or breathe fire. Others conjectured that because dragon color had no known bearing on character traits, Feddir would be just like any other dragon. The debate had continued, sometimes in a heated fashion, but Senndra had dismissed all of it. What was the point in arguing this? Time would tell which side was correct, and indeed it had. Ten days ago, Feddir's first scales had begun to force their way through his skin. His breath had also continued to grow hotter and, with the appearance of his scales, everyone agreed that it was only a matter of time before he could breathe fire as well.