Darklight: A Coming of Age Fantasy (Darklight Series Book 1)

by Greg L. Turnquist

  After twenty minutes of navigating tunnels and ladders, Snitch led Glantham to her desired exit point. Shutting off the pocket bulbs, Snitch cast a spell of invisibility with a brief glow of light. She dialed in the codes on the hatch and opened it.

  They climbed to the surface and approached the eastern entrance to the palace. Guards were stationed.

  She could get by if it was just her, but not with Glantham. Remembering her magic door spell put a smile on her face. Tapping Glantham on the shoulder, she led him to the sidewall on the left. Snitch waved her hands, a magical box transformed into a door, and they slipped through to a vacant room.

  Having just visited, Snitch knew the layout of things. She had entered on the side closest to Melicose’s quarter. This should minimize the odds of bumping into others.

  Snitch listened for motion on the other side of the door before stepping out and heading down the hallway. Being invisible wasn’t practical if people watched you open a door.

  She traveled twenty feet and turned right as Glantham hugged close behind. They entered the hallway to Melicose's quarters, marked by the two guards at the end. Time to get past them.

  There was a door she wanted to get through but couldn’t with the soldiers looking in their direction. Gesturing for Glantham to stay put, Snitch tiptoed to the cross-corridor closer to the guards. She threw a handful of coins down one side and slid back to Glantham’s spot.

  The men looked at each other and moved to investigate.

  The moment they looked the other way, Snitch opened the door, and she and Glantham entered undetected. Approaching the wall that separated them from Melicose’s quarters, she traced another magical door. After stepping in, Snitch dropped the invisibility cloak.

  Something didn’t sit right, and she needed to focus.

  Glantham waved his hands and created a purple lock on the main door so there were no unannounced visitors.

  Melicose sat in the same chair she had discerned him in earlier. She approached, not quite sure what to expect.

  “There you are,” he said without turning to look. Melicose closed a book and set it on the table.

  Snitch froze in place.

  He rose from the chair and turned. “Right on time, I imagine.”

  “You appear at ease, despite us entering your personal quarters without alerting anyone.” Snitch grasped for confidence. She’d just escaped a pack of Warex from another dimension. Why was she so nervous?

  Melicose’s eyes drifted toward the locked doors. He shrugged with a smirk. “You think that concerns me? Not at all, considering you’re about to die a most gruesome death.” With half a grin, he walked to the weapons rack and lifted a lightweight cross sword.

  Die? Something was wrong, but Snitch couldn't put her finger on it. Her palms began to sweat.

  “You may have some fancy tricks for sneaking in, but I don't think you can match me in combat.” The calmness of his voice and the grace of his steps exuded confidence. He lunged toward them, swinging his weapon.

  Snitch threw her palms up and generated a shield which blocked his thrust. That was a first.

  Melicose nodded with deference. “I thought you might have some defensive measures, but I didn't expect that.” He circled, and Snitch pivoted to match. Swooping a few more times, Melicose also swung from the side.

  Snitch countered these swift attacks by rolling and moving her shield around.

  Melicose didn’t flinch. “I wondered how long it might take you to get here.”

  “You did see me.” Her eyes widened.

  “Of course I did.” Melicose swung a couple blows left and right, hitting her shield. Then he took one hand off the sword, lifted it up, and shouted, “Eyatra manto!”

  “What is—” Snitch’s concentration faltered, and the shield vanished.

  A purple ball of mist gathered in Melicose’s hand, flew out at high speed, and slammed into Snitch and Glantham, knocking them to the ground. Melicose sported a wicked grin as he approached them, the cross sword held out, poised for another strike.

  “Seeing you was easy. I found an obscure manuscript during my campaign that spoke of mental energy from the purple dimension. It has taught me much. I just didn't expect to test it so soon.” He chuckled and grabbed his sword with both hands. Closing his eyes, his arms flexed, and the blade shimmered violet.

  “You know about the purple dimension?” Glantham asked with a strained voice.

  Struggling to catch her breath, Snitch guessed Glantham was stalling for time.

  “I think I just answered your question.”

  Snitch dragged herself to her feet a couple steps behind Glantham.

  Melicose raised his blade and swung with full force.

  She blocked it with another shield.

  “Ow!” Snitch cried out. His blade didn't destroy the shield, but its power passed through and cut her on the forearm.

  “I love it!” Melicose shouted with glee. “No one will ever defy me when I unleash the power of the purple dimension!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A Realization

  Pain shot through Glantham’s arms, legs, and back. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, but with the utterance of Melicose’s threat, his stomach hit the floor. With the Warex highly sensitive to magic consumption, he knew what would happen if Melicose continued.

  Glantham's greatest challenge had been holding back and entrusting his life to Snitch. However, Melicose presented an even bigger threat. “You don't know what you're doing. That power isn’t given freely.”

  “You’ve used it. For years. But you’re weak, and you fear for your life.”

  He struck another blow to Snitch's shield, and a gash appeared on her leg.

  She dropped to one knee but kept the shield up. Snitch shifted around, positioning it between Glantham and Melicose.

  “I truly am surprised how you let this young girl take all your hits.” Melicose sneered.

  Glantham seethed through gritted teeth. Melicose couldn't know but a fraction of what purple magic could do, so why not show him? Glantham’s hands buzzed. He raised them, and they glowed a rich violet.

  “Don't do it!” Snitch shouted, her eyes gleaming in a way he’d never seen before. A strange sense of calm came over him. Good. She was embracing her future.

  Glantham smirked as he swallowed his pride. Pulverizing this arrogant fool would be gratifying, but he needed a real plan. Then an idea sparked in his head.

  An idea that just might work.

  “Snitch, remember all that I have taught you.”

  “What?” She grimaced, tilting her head to the side as her eyes narrowed. Rising, she took a step toward him, her mouth wide open. “Don't!”

  Glantham faced her and shouted, “Eyatra manto!”

  A lavender mist fired at Snitch, throwing her halfway across the room.

  The shield vanished.

  Glantham lifted his hand into a clutching gesture, and the scroll of Adasan flew to him from her pocket. He turned to Melicose.

  “What are you doing?” Melicose screamed.

  “You want to see the fury of the purple dimension? Then have it!”

  Glantham radiated a powerful burst of purple energy. The scroll of Adasan floated in the air, and a huge swirl of light and sound surrounded it.

  Melicose looked up as his sword slipped from his fingers, it's lavender hue gone.

  The magical tome stopped on the precise page Glantham had requested, filled with elaborate markings. He glanced at it and uttered the arcane words. The violent energy around him grew, engulfing them both. Crackling energy and sparks rippled through the air, the sound touching every part of the room.

  Warex laughter resonated throughout the chamber, and Melicose dropped to his knees, his jaw open.

  A tear formed in Glantham's eye, but he was at peace.

  He recited the last syllable on the page and a giant explosion consumed him, Melicose, and everything else within the globe of purple energy.

&
nbsp; Snitch stirred to consciousness and stood, not sure what had happened. She looked around but didn't see anyone. Smoke rose from the floor and the burnt furniture and rugs.

  As she tuned her instincts on the area, a mystical record of events flooded her mind. The explosion that consumed Glantham, Melicose, and the scroll of Adasan was too much to bear.

  Snitch knelt in the same spot where Glantham had stood, touching the singed handle of Melicose's sword. Tears formed as the truth of Glantham’s sacrifice filled her.

  Her eyes scanned the room—no sign of the scroll of Adasan. How would she study white magic now? At least Melicose had been stopped from opening a portal for a Warex invasion. For that, she was grateful.

  Something caught her attention. The same throbbing she had felt earlier pervaded her being, causing Snitch’s eyes to narrow. Melicose had mentioned an obscure manuscript.

  Holding her palms forward, bits of white light traced the room and converged past the remains of the chair. Moving in that direction, she spotted the book the man had put down.

  Snitch picked it up and flipped through the pages. The rough, beaten up book crammed full of mystical writings intrigued her. Many of its eldritch writings were intertwined with deep purple figures, letters, and symbols. A sudden awareness shot through her and she slammed it shut, her face twisted.

  It was a trap set by the Warex.

  Her head fell, lips tightening as she secured the book in her pocket. Her mission now was clear.

  With the dangerous trap tucked away, Snitch needed to find her teammates. Reporting Melicose's demise was critical. She sat in a chair and shifted her concentration to divination.

  Glantham was no longer here to help. Eyes closed, she started her mental litany. After a couple minutes, they opened wide.

  “They're here? What are they doing?”

  Snitch rushed to the door with a clear picture of their location. She swept the purple locks away with a wave of her hand and threw open the door.

  The two armed guards outside turned. “Who are you?”

  “Sleep.” Snitch pointed her fingertips, and a pulse of light shot out.

  They crumbled to the floor, dozing.

  Stepping over them, she continued on her path. With a quick gesture, Snitch was invisible.

  Rushing through hallways and grazing past people, Snitch happened upon a pair of armed troops sprawled out and unconscious. She slipped by and approached the door with caution.

  Closing her eyes, she reached past the door with her mind. Gavin and the sergeant’s presence, along with two others she didn't recognize, pricked her thoughts. Pushing aside her doubts, she entered.

  “What is that?” the sergeant said, looking in Snitch’s direction.

  Gavin leapt to his feet with his dagger drawn and stepped toward the door. He peeked outside, shrugged his shoulders, and closed it. “How did that happen?”

  Snitch had slipped to the side. She recognized her comrades but held her tongue, taking in the situation.

  Gavin’s eyes continued to scan the room. “Colonel, have you figured the best route out of here yet?”

  “Looks like the second hatch will let us avoid moving through the palace.”

  “Why didn't we enter that way?” the sergeant asked.

  “Didn't know exactly where it was topside. I wasn’t sure we could enter unseen.”

  Snitch quirked an eyebrow. Why had they entered the palace?

  “We’ll have to search, and we can't bring him along for that.” The colonel pointed at a bound-up man on the bed.

  Who was that? He must've been important for Gavin to risk sneaking into the palace.

  “Can I be of any help?” Snitch asked. With a slight flicker of light, she dropped the invisibility while standing in the middle of the room.

  “Snitch? Snitch!” Gavin grabbed her, wide-eyed, lifting her off the ground. Setting her back down, he took a step back, his eyebrows scrunched. “What was that? You appeared out of nowhere.”

  “It's a long story.”

  “I’m surprised. We didn’t know—I didn’t know if I’d see you again.” Gavin had a smile on his face. “Never thought I'd say this, but I missed you.”

  The corners of Snitch’s mouth turned upward.

  “So, where is Glantham?” Gavin looked around.

  Her face shifted from smiling to serious. “He didn't make it. Not sure what I can tell you, but trust me. He saved a lot of lives.”

  In that moment, with those words, the burden of not exposing purple magic had shifted to her.

  It was clear.

  Fingering the Warex tome hidden in her pocket, Snitch stared down, hoping he wouldn’t press her with more questions.

  “I see,” Gavin muttered.

  “Need another dagger?” Snitch lifted her eyes with a smile. It'd been a long time since she had pilfered his weapon.

  Gavin snickered.

  Snitch turned her attention to Townsend. “I take it you’re part of this?”

  He saluted. “And it seems you are as well.”

  “Snitch, let me introduce you to Duke Renault.” Gavin pointed to their captured prisoner.

  “What? It can’t be.” She glared at the man she didn't recognize a moment ago.

  “We need to get him out of here and publicly expose him as Melicose's right-hand man,” the sergeant said.

  “Rodrina’s idea?” She flashed half a grin.

  “Of course,” Gavin said.

  Time was precious, so Snitch kept the news about Melicose to herself. It would invite too many questions.

  “What’s this about finding a hatch?” she asked, looking over Townsend’s shoulder at his map.

  He pointed at their current location, where they had come from, and their tentative escape.

  Snitch spoke with him about tunnels and crossover points. They were soon speaking in shorthand. After a couple minutes, they stopped, and Snitch looked back at Gavin.

  “I think I can find it if you'll give me a few minutes.”

  “How? It’s almost seven a.m . . . This place will be hopping with soldiers.”

  “I know. That's why you should let me do it. I'll get back as soon as possible. Trust me.” Glantham's tried and true expression was fast becoming her own.

  Gavin tilted his head with a flat smile.

  Snitch walked back over to the door, peeked outside, and stepped into the hallway.

  Colonel Braknow had found a table in the wee hours of the morning. The Pony’s Saddle was still active, albeit with less patrons than the night before. It was probably one of the few places still open at this hour. Ever since Melicose’s rise to power, most places shutdown at dusk. Though common thieves tended to not invade an establishment filled with troops.

  Reporting Everdell as missing, the colonel’s hands shook, afraid the commander might ask lots of questions. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s late. Why don’t you go get a pint?” Braknow had forced himself to grin as he walked out.

  Slouched behind the same pint glass he’d held for hours, he replayed everything in his head, over and over. Everything that had happened over the last three days. Was there something he’d missed? Something he could have done differently to avoid getting backed into a corner?

  “How about this time? Another pint?” The barkeep lurked past him, buffing all the empty tables with a towel.

  Braknow opened his mouth with his finger extended, ready to say yes. But he closed it, looking down and right. “No, thanks. Good stuff, but I just can’t do it . . . not while my men are out.”

  “What time are they supposed to arrive?”

  Braknow’s eyes narrowed. “Two hours ago.” If the man was going to bite.

  “That’s why you’ve been here all night with a single pint. I’ve seen it before.” The man slapped the colonel on the back. “I’m sure they’ll make it.”

  The colonel raised his glass and nodded with a thin smile. “And when they do, I’ll happily make up for it.” He gulped the last bit of li
quid.

  “There he is!” shouted a soldier at the door.

  The barkeep turned. “Looks like sooner rather than later—”

  The colonel’s eyes opened wide, his fingertips on the table as he rose.

  “Colonel Braknow, you’re wanted for questioning regarding the murder of Sergeant Everdell.”

  The first soldier entered, followed by two more. His eyes locked with the colonel, and he tilted his head as his hand slid to his hilt.

  The barkeep’s eyes swept between Braknow and these new troops. His mouth opened.

  Braknow glared as the troops moved closer. Gritting his teeth, he threw the table toward them and fell to the back of the room. Moving along the back wall, he opened the door in the corner. He’d spotted it when he first sat. He just didn’t expect to use this makeshift exit.

  It was the kitchen. Empty, considering they’d closed it hours ago. To the right were stacked barrels that reeked of ale. No way out there.

  Looking at the door with a slight grin, he rolled the nearest free barrel in front of it.

  His eyes darted around until he spotted the door outside. He lifted the security bar off its cradle and tossed it aside. Stepping outside, Braknow winced at the glare of sun.

  Those soldiers would surely take him on open ground, so he crossed the alley and starting checking every service doorway. They were each locked until he reached the fourth.

  Slipping through, he reached down for a security bar to lock it back. None. Looking around, he spotted one door to the front of whatever establishment this was.

  The colonel entered a short hallway with a couple side doors. Glancing to the right, he spotted a chair with piles of paperwork. There were a couple books and what might have been a strongbox in the corner.

  To the left, he found a staircase. Considering himself lucky at not running into a watchman, Braknow climbed the stairs. There might be better odds on the roof than the streets.

  The colonel crept up the stairs, his ears perked. Rumbling sounds from the second story hallway made him freeze. He leaned forward past the top step and relaxed at the sound of snoring.

  Glancing at the next flight of stairs, Braknow climbed to the second floor and tiptoed past the banister to continue on up. Toward the top of the second flight was a door lying flat. Hunched, he unlocked and opened it.