The Awakened World Boxed Set
Page 1
The Awakened World Boxed Set #1
Books 1 - 3
William Stacey
Contents
William Stacey Starter Library
Book 1 Source Mage
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
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Book 2 Shade King
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
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Book 3 Firestorm
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
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
William Stacey Starter Library
About the Author
Copyright © 2020 by William Stacey
Cover by Ravven Design
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Book 1 Source Mage
Chapter 1
1 October 2043
Fresno Fey Enclave, Southern California
Eight years after the Awakening
Her heart racing, Angie watched with the other students as Nathan dueled another of the teenage boys, their heavy rapiers flashing in the torchlight surrounding the fencing arena. She sat on the edge of a bench with the other mage students, thirty-six teenage boys and girls. Even though she wore jeans and a long-sleeved sweatshirt, she shivered and rubbed her arms. Californian nights in October could grow as cold as the days were hot. A forest of tropical trees and brightly colored flowers surrounded them, and the ever-present flamingos clustered near the bank of a pond, squawking happily. From far away, the local wolf pack howled at the moon.
Nathan and his opponent were shirtless, their athletic frames glistening. At seventeen, Nathan was older and bigger than most of the other students, but the boy he fought was not only his age but taller and heavier, his shoulders and arms corded with muscle. He used his greater size now to force Nathan onto the defensive, coming at him with a blistering series of thrusts and cuts. Angie held her breath as Nathan fell back under the onslaught. Any moment now, she'd see the magical flash of sparks and light that would signify his loss. But that flash never came. Somehow, Nathan's gleaming blade met each of his opponent's strikes, even if only at the very last moment. The third time Nathan’s blade just “happened” to deflect an attack at the last moment, Angie realized Nathan was toying with his opponent and could defeat him at any moment. Nathan was a marvelous fighter, the best in the school.
Angie, only thirteen, was among the worst. She was also unshaded. Her stepmother Char—rather, the school's Grandmaster Mage, Chararah Succubus—insisted she was too young to bond with a shade.
Nathan's opponent altered his tactics, coming at him now from an off angle of attack, but Nathan, faster than an angry elf, dropped on one knee, coming up beneath his opponent’s overextended thrust. Nathan's rapier, more than three feet of sharpened steel, came up beneath the other boy's unprotected throat. Just before the weapon could skewer him, the boy's shade created a half-foot shield of blue-white translucent energy. Sparks erupted as the magical shield blocked the blade.
But it had been a perfect coup de main strike. Had they been fighting with hexed weapons, Nathan would have killed him.
"Match point!" yelled Anthalas, the lanky, white-haired elven fight-master, as he stepped between the two boys, using a long staff to force them apart. "Adept Nathan Case wins."
Unlike the boys, Anthalas was no mage and had no shade to protect him, so he wore a thick padded armored vest called a gambeson. Angie knew all about armor and weapons now. In the years she had been a student of Char's, Angie had learned more about Renaissance sword fighting than she ever would have thought possible.
The students cheered, as did Angie, rising to her feet and jumping in excitement. Everyone adored Nathan; how could they not? His white teeth flashed as he brought his sword blade to his face and executed a salute and then stepped forward, offering his other hand to his oppone
nt. With his long dirty-blond hair and ice-blue eyes, Nathan wasn't just handsome, he was perfect—tall and lean with powerful arms, wide shoulders, and a tapering waist.
And he barely knew Angie was alive.
The other boy accepted Nathan's hand in a firm embrace, acknowledging his loss with grace. Their chests heaved with exertion as they separated and then returned their razor-sharp rapiers to the weapons stand near the edge of the wooden arena.
Angie felt a presence behind her a moment before the feather-light tap on her shoulder. She turned to see one of Char's nymph servants, shorter than she was with pale-blue skin, translucent wings, and otherworldly beauty—despite the all-black, too-large eyes. This one was a water nymph and wore a wisp of light green material that barely covered her, leaving her legs, shoulders, and most of her cleavage bare. Most nymphs rarely wore anything at all, but Char insisted her servants clothe themselves to avoid embarrassing the students, a practice not at all in line with the boys' wishes.
"Grandmaster Chararah Succubus asks that you present yourself to her sanctum," the nymph said, her words distorted, as if she spoke underwater.
Angie's mind raced as she processed the nymph's words. Why would Char want to see her this late at night? It could only mean one thing: She means to put me through the ritual and bond me with a shade—finally! She grinned, her heart filled with light. "Thank you. I'll go right away."
The nymph smiled, exposing her sharp little teeth. Her wings buzzed for a moment, as if she wanted to fly away, but she turned about and skipped off instead.
As the other students returned to the dormitory, Angie headed toward the main school complex, once a two-story log building that had held the zoo's offices, a restaurant, and a gift shop but was now Char's personal sanctum and residence. Although she’d been adopted by Char, Angie lived and studied with the other students. Char insisted it was best she remain among her own kind.
Angie pulled open the large rune-covered wooden door and entered. The interior had long ago been remodeled by skilled elven artisans and furnished with Char's treasured tapestries and erotic art pieces, including the nude statues she loved. Char had a fondness for anything that displayed the naked form—male and female—but she particularly loved ancient Greek art and owned many original pieces. Angie knew nothing of art, but she guessed these pieces must have been valuable—or would have been when such things as money still mattered. These days, a working generator was a real treasure, worth more than life. Char had a generator—several—but she rarely used them, preferring to light her home with hundreds of candles. Nor did she fear fires; a simple cantrip took care of that.
She made her way past the entrance hall and the library and then down the dark oak-lined hallway that led to Char's sanctum. Her excitement grew with each step. Finally, she'd be a real mage. Once she was bonded, she could use magic without the toxic side effects, and her shade would keep her safe from all harm. Nathan would have to notice her now.
She gave a startled gasp as one of the shadows moved, blocking her path. When it stepped into the candlelight, exposing its pale skin and red eyes, she froze—vampire, one of Ephix's children.
Why is it in the house?
This one looked like a young man in his early twenties with curly dark hair, but looks were deceiving. Despite the legends, vampires were Fey, not the undead creatures of the stories, but many were very long-lived. For all she knew, this one might be a hundred years old—or older. Its breath hissed between its fangs, and its eyes locked on her as it caressed its long, thin fingers, the nails too long. When the vampire slid closer, she forced herself to remain perfectly still, her heart hammering. The vampire's face darted toward her, and it sniffed her neck, a long, drawn-out inhalation followed by a satisfied smile. Up close, it smelled of rotting flowers.
"Why are you different?" it asked, its voice a raspy whisper.
"You should not be here," she said, willing strength into her voice. If it realized how frightened she was... "You're not permitted on school property."
Despite Ephix's control over them, most vampires remained bestial, far too easily driven wild by bloodlust. The vampire's lips parted, exposing the two fangs. "You smell so good," it purred. "What are you?"
She was moments from bolting, which could only end in blood, when light flooded the far end of the hallway. The door to Char's sanctum had just opened, and a figure stepped through it. The vampire hissed as it spun about. Angie squinted and recognized the figure in the doorway—Andrej, Char's newest lover. He was tall and dark haired, clean cut and well framed, and so handsome that he was almost pretty. His skin glowed with health now, but when he had arrived several months ago, he had been pale and near death.
Andrej stood in place for a long moment. "Leave her be," he finally said, his voice surprisingly steady.
The vampire snorted. "I do not take orders from toys."
"Do you take orders from me?" a young female voice asked from just behind Angie. At the sound of this voice—one she knew all too well—she almost wet herself.
The vampire fell onto its knees, staring at the floor. Angie slid back against the wall. Behind her stood a small thin woman, young, with her long dark hair braided into a cord draped over a thin shoulder: Ephix, Char's sister.
Ephix was neither beautiful nor plain, being entirely unremarkable, but she was also the most dangerous creature in the entire Fresno Enclave. Tonight, she wore a simple white shift that came to her knees, and she was barefoot. She could have passed for human—if you didn't look too closely into her large brown eyes, eyes that were devoid of even a hint of humanity. Years ago, Angie had seen Ephix's true form, and the memory still haunted her.
"Night Mistress," the vampire said, its thin shoulders trembling. "Apologies. I ... her smell, I couldn't stop myself. It was ..."
"I know what it was," Ephix said in a voice laced with ice. "But you are still not permitted here. She is not for you." Her eyes darted to Angie's, and the smile she gave her was cold. "Run along, Angela dear. My sister waits for you. You, too, Andrej."
Andrej spun away, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste.
"Yes, Ephix," Angie said, bowing quickly before sliding past the kneeling vampire to follow Andrej, her heart jackrabbiting. In a moment, they were both through the doorway into Char's sanctum. As Andrej eased the door closed behind them, Angie exhaled heavily.
"Ah, you found her already, my love," Char said from where she stood in the center of the sanctum, her back to them.
Chararah Succubus was a large woman, towering over others at six and a half feet of height but perfectly framed with a narrow waist, huge bust, and ample curves. Char was built for pleasure and knew it, reveled in it. Her large bat wings and forked tail made her look like a statue come to life. Char dominated every room she entered. She glanced over one wing now and flashed Angie a bright smile, her alien beauty at odds with her demonic appearance.
To call Char beautiful was to say that mountains were large. The succubus exuded grace and majesty, and among the Fresno Fey, she was more akin to a queen than the elected ruler she was. Her features were mostly human, although her eyes were overlarge, oddly slanted, and bright purple, both iris and pupil. She shared the same pointed ears as the elves and other fairies but also sported two curved ram-like horns twisting back from her forehead. Char's long, flowing hair was a mixture of raven black with strands of gray, the only real clue of her advanced age—even Angie didn't know how old she truly was—but her ebony skin remained as flawless and smooth as that of a coltish girl.
Char wore a short red silk bathrobe of Chinese design that exposed most of her shapely thighs. She stood barefoot before a floating object, examining it, her hip cocked to the side, a crystal goblet filled with red wine in one hand. As she sipped, her forked tail swished back and forth, as it often did when her mind was occupied. The sanctum smelled of incense, candle wax, and ... dirt, oddly enough.
Angie's pulse quickened, and a sudden flush of warmth spread through her.
It was, she knew all too well, Char's aura of sexual desire. To be fair, the effect was akin to perspiration for the succubus, and she usually suppressed it. But when she was distracted, as she must have been right now, it slipped away from her. "Mother," Angie said, a trace of annoyance in her voice.