by CK Dawn
Chapter 26
About the Author
Acknowledgments
JC Kang
Dragon Scale Lute
Dragon Scale Lute
1. Not-So-Chance Meetings
2. Intents and Purposes
3. Resonance
4. Honor In Question
5. Interventions
6. Visitors
7. Challenges
8. Dilemmas
9. Not the Brightest Moment
10. The Dragon Scale Lute
11. Uncommitted Resolve
12. Foreboding Melodies
13. Aftermath
14. All Paths Lead to Music
15. Father Figures
16. Unenviable Choices
17. Ulterior Motives
18. Hot and Bothered
19. Women’s Secrets
20. Indecision
21. Easier To Be a Soldier
22. Failing to Plan, Planning to Fail
23. Unmistaken Identities
24. Songs of Despair
25. Sunset over Wailian
Epilogue
S.C. Stokes
The Woman In The Wind
The Woman In The Wind
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About the Author
Frost Kay
Siren’s Lure
Siren’s Lure
1. Hayjen
2. Lilja
3. Hayjen
4. Lilja
5. Hayjen
6. Lilja
7. Hayjen
8. Hayjen
9. Lilja
10. Hayjen
11. Lilja
12. Lilja
13. Hayjen
Epilogue
About the Author
Fire and Fantasy
Mystical Lands. Epic Adventure. Enchanting Characters.
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Cloak of Shadows
CK Dawn
Cloak of Shadows © 2017 CK Dawn
* * *
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products mentioned within this work.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cloak of Shadows
A kick-ass heroine. Lancelot’s sexy descendant. And a snarky sidekick.
What if all you've ever known of King Arthur's legend was a lie to mislead you from the truth? What if Camelot truly existed, but was destroyed to keep its secrets?
And, what if there were descendants of the Knights of the Round Table defending us today from the creatures that lurk within the shadows? If the gloaming came looking for you, would you answer its call?
WARNING: This story ends on a cliffhanger for our fearless kick-ass heroine, but fear not, she will return in Cloak of Secrets, and more ferocious than ever! Welcome to Cloak of Shadows, the Netherwalker series book one.
Prologue
Camelot Burning
Britannia ~ Middle Ages
“What are you playing at now, old man?” Lancelot yelled, raining spittle down upon the vile wretch in his grasp. The knight tightened his hand around the eternal’s neck as he shoved him against the ruined castle wall, taking special care not to disturb the bundle hidden in a nearby hay cart.
“No tricks. I had a vision.” Merlin grabbed the knight’s wrists and stared into his eyes. His glare became an intense soul penetrating dyad.
Lancelot shuddered as their eyes locked and souls clashed. Hear me. Remember... Merlin’s words thundered inside the knight’s head.
Both men were enveloped in a luminous violet light and an amethyst tornado of dust and stone. The magical vortex of power seemed strong enough to snap steel and disintegrate bone. The roar of the tempestuous wind deafened as sand and grit cut through flesh of the young knight’s already battle scarred face. Garbled pictures of people, places, and impossibilities flooded Lancelot’s head as bile rose in his throat. Grotesque creatures that were a leech upon human life stained his vision. The deadly monsters Lancelot glimpsed only strengthened the conviction of his chosen path, but he had seen enough. The knight wanted loose of the hellish nightmare and willed himself free.
Suddenly the particles of stone and dirt surrounding the two men stopped and floated in suspended animation all around them. As the knight struggled to break away from the eternal’s embrace, all the hovering debris fell simultaneously to the earth.
Breathless and wide eyed, Lancelot paused and looked in the cart. “Go! Take your... creature with you.” Instinctually the knight’s hand tightened around his sword’s hilt still sheathed at his side. He let out several long slow thoughtful breaths before he continued, “If what you’ve shown me is true, I won’t stop you.” He snickered angrily, thinking of the long dreadful task in front of him as he stared the man down. “May the Elders help you if you ever cross my path again, old man. My mercy ends with my King and my spoken oath. We meet again and I will kill you. Destiny be damned!”
Silently, the ancient nodded respectfully to the young knight and took his leave. Almost floating in his long drawn hooded cloak, Merlin carefully carried his bundle toward the large hollowed ancient yew. The golden ribbon of light within had become visible, the gloaming was upon them. He turned and looked at the heart broken knight and yelled, “Your name will be remembered in legends and be synonymous once again with honor, duty, and loyalty, Sir Lancelot. You will be honored as the greatest of men.”
The knight’s response was almost indiscernible from the wind, but he knew the old man heard him, “So you say, as even now I lay seeds of infidelity in the hearts of thousands and the blood of my brothers still warms my blade.” The defeated guardian shook his head, turned, and walked away. Then, slumping, the knight stopped. As he stole one last glimpse at the bundle he whispered, “Take care of our girl.”
One
Shadow Hunting
New York ~ Present Day
“Krims!” Bane roared, stirring the rest of the hunters into action. The five man team charged down the hot steamy desolate subway line after the two fleeing creatures.
Abigail Thorne could barely make out their slick black skin against the moist dark walls of the tunnel, but she could see they had taken the form of feline-type creatures. Swift, massive, and designed to kill, there was no denying what they were; krimvigars from the Netherworld. There was also no mistaking these netherwalkers for panthers one might find at the zoo, not with the fro
sty breath that came from their mouths and nostrils. Where there should have been eyes reflecting her flashlight, there was nothing but smooth black skin that seemed to absorb the light. These otherworldly creatures were also running along the dampened ceiling, their talons digging into and spewing bits of the crumbling underground tunnel as they fled their natural enemies. By their running carriage, she instinctively knew they would split up. Sure enough, the large main tunnel divided in two and the netherwalkers each took a separate corridor.
Bane barked orders from behind them. “Kapoi, Daniels, take the krim to the right! Reese, Thorne, go left!”
Lourdes Reese entered the left tunnel first but slowed to let Abbey take the lead. This was, after all, the young girl’s hunt to test her mettle.
Abbey didn’t hesitate. Relying on her instincts and training she sprinted down the dimly lit tunnel at almost inhuman speed, closing the gap between hunter and prey. The creature slowed and turned, baring its mouth full of razor sharp teeth. Drops of spittle fell from its fangs and shattered on the ground as ice. Its smooth muscular skin rippled as it absorbed the surrounding light like the intake of power. The temperature around the krim cooled thirty degrees. Abbey charged her weapon and aimed it at the creature as cold sweat ran down her spine. The netherwalker dug in its back talons and leapt for her. Then, time seemed to slow. Abbey could hear her own heart pounding in her ears. She steadied her breath and squeezed the trigger. A metallic boom burst from her weapon that resembled a mini cannon and a sliver of white laser light exited the chamber. The beast fell at her feet, motionless.
Without skipping a beat, Abbey holstered her weapon and brought her hands to her mouth. She knew she only had seconds before the stunned netherwalker woke. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her as she whispered her word against each of the mated cold steel rings on her thumbs. Palms together she slowly pulled her hands apart to reveal an orb of translucent violet light, pulsating and sparking from the energy it bound within. The orb hummed and popped as she let it grow. Lowering herself precariously close to the creature, the orb instinctively floated down, and, growing larger still, it engulfed the krimvigar’s body. Fingers of lightning snapped like whips, lashing out from the surface of the orb, but Abbey didn’t falter and never let go.
Suddenly, another creature’s roar echoed through the adjacent tunnel followed by an adolescent human’s moan.
Abbey’s head whipped around to her mentor.
Lourdie shook her head and spoke in an insistent whisper, “Don’t you even think about it, Thorne. Focus.”
Abbey reluctantly turned back to her own battle and concentrated her energy on her orb. With a final bit of effort and a burst of otherworldly power, the orb imploded taking the Netherworld creature with it. Exhausted, Abbey let out her breath and sucked thick frigid air deep into her burning lungs. As she shook off the effects of her orb creation, she could have sworn a scream of pain filled the underground structure. Oh my gosh. Malcolm! Abbey thought. Worried about her friend in the other tunnel, she quickly got to her feet.
Smiling like a proud parent, Lourdie came up from behind and chucked Abbey in the arm, “Nice work, Thorne. Congratulations, you’re one trial away from officially being a hunter of the King’s Court.” In a quieter voice, Lourdie spoke to her friend, “Abbey, you make that look too easy. Honestly, even most seniors miss at least one krim, but not you.” Lourdie shook her head and crossed her arms. “And, if that wasn’t a trial run for novices,” she motioned towards the tunnel Malcolm Daniels and Professor Ryan Kapoi had run down, “I swear you’d be running back and banishing Malcolm’s krim, too.”
Abbey smiled and shrugged innocently, “I almost did! And, as far as my skills, what can I say? I have the legendary Lourdes Reese as my mentor. Master hunter, dual orb diva...”
Lourdie rolled her eyes.
“Dude, you’re kind of a big deal. And, yeah, you know me. I sooo seriously feel like helping my nerd right about now.”
Both girls were still giggling as the dark tunnel walls faded away, replaced by a sterile white stadium sized chamber with a small viewing room jutting out from the second level. The glass of the viewing room was opaque. Their audience was hidden.
Each wall in the virtual chamber resembled one endless high gloss porcelain tile, no seams or edges were visible. The ceiling looked like the inside of thousands of halved ping pong balls, suspended in a white viscous gel. It appeared to undulate in waves, like the chamber was breathing. The brightness was as blinding as the top of a snow capped mountain on a cloudless day. The ground under their feet, however, was as dark and vast as outer space. An infinite black onyx floor reflected the guardians’ images on its surface while its rich pigment was as deep and dark as the ocean’s abyss.
Abbey’s adolescent reflection looked small and awkward next to her mentor and idol. The young girl’s soft rounded cheeks and light blond hair were a stark contrast to Lourdie’s model worthy bone structure, height, and long chocolate brown locks.
A voice boomed over the intercom, “Congratulations, Abigail, well done. Professor Kapoi, take Malcolm to the infirmary please. Then all of you report to my office in let’s say, an hour and a half,” the viewing room never revealing its occupants.
Abbey spotted her nerd, who appeared to be injured. “Malcolm!” she said, running towards her friend.
“I’m okay, shorty. I’m okay,” Malcolm said limping beside his trainer.
Ryan Kapoi, marine, professor, and court hunter, was consoling a shaken and bleeding Malcolm. At the nearly invisible white door Kapoi shrugged and said, “The no eyes thing really freaked him out.”
Malcolm stumbled quickly over his words, “The thing was running on the ceiling. I forgot they could do that,” he shook his head. “How could I forget that? I know everything about every type of netherwalker. How could I forget that? I can’t believe I forgot that. And, Dude! There is nothing benign about krims in their shadowskin form. When they were clinging to the wall, you know, when they were just smoke and shadow. I swear I saw...Well, I don’t know how to explain what I saw. I...”
Lourdie reached out to pat Malcolm on the shoulder, but, afraid to hurt him, pulled her hand back instead and tapped her head. “When in their shadowskin form, their presence can mess with our perceptions, even our emotions. The simulation did a good job replicating that,” she said and pointed at the streamline contraption Kapoi carried like a backpack. “Part of a shadowskin’s ability to hunt so stealthily is their effect on our psyche. And sure, the corporeal forms of krimvigos and krimvigars are the faces we like to label the big bad, but it’s the shadow forms you may not see that nightmares are truly made of. You’ve got a good mentor. Professor Kapoi is one of our best hunters. Trust in him.”
Kapoi gave Lourdie a grateful smile.
“By the way, nice simulation, Kapoi. Who knew all that was in your head?” Lourdie nudged Kapoi with her elbow.
“Dude! I couldn’t even remember to stun it then shun it. And, the orb, the uh--delvir Professor Kapoi threw me, looked more like an amoeba in my hands than a sphere. It was too difficult to control. It zapped me and disappeared, but not before it flung me into a wall,” Malcolm said holding his injured wrist.
“Sorry, Malcolm, you’ll get it next time. I almost failed too,” Abbey lied.
Bane held the door open for the young group. “Better luck next time, kid,” he said with his deep, raspy Russian accent. The hunter was so tall the group exited the virtual chamber under his outstretched arm.
“Oh, no! No, no, no, no,” Malcolm waved his hand frantically. “That was the last training exercise for me, I’m not cut out for hunting. I’m an archivist. Books, relics, and history. Yep, that’s the place for me,” he replied as his voice faded down the dimly lit hall.
The dank hallway was a stark contrast to the virtual chamber. Its rough cut masonry walls were pierced with ancient wrought iron gaslights that had been retrofitted with modern day LEDs, highlighting the stone’s texture and pattern. Passing th
e wall of glass that held one of the Swords of Twelve like a museum artifact, Abbey and Lourdie smiled at each other. They knew Malcolm wasn’t cut out for hunter trials, but respected him for volunteering for the training. They were glad to have a dedicated archivist like Malcolm preserving the Court’s history and secrets.
“Wanna grab an iced coffee before we head to Marcus’s office? That new place just opened up down the street,” Abbey asked her mentor as she traced the glass with her fingers. The young apprentice never tired of admiring the ancient sword and scabbard from the original Knights of the Round Table. She hadn’t grown up in the King’s Court like Lourdie and most guardians had-- knowing the truth about their history from the time they could talk. The docile legends and fanciful stories of King Arthur still enamored her.
“You know I can never say no to any kind of coffee. Let’s make it after quick showers though,” Lourdie said as she pushed the thumb print button of the subterranean elevator. “This sewer stench has been on us for over nine hours and I want it off right now.” The retinal scan then hummed and dinged as it verified their access and the elevator doors opened.