by C E Johnson
The Ammolite Adventures Greenstone
Copyright © 2017 C.E. Johnson
All rights reserved
Published by Clan Press 2017
Austin, Tx
No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.
Cover image from B-Ro
Website with maps and images: www.ammoliteadventures.com
For my Clan
and
For Xena, my bondsmate
Table of Contents
Map of Earth
Map of Acacia
Glossary of Auras
Glossary of Half-deads
Good Timber
Chapter 1 Droth
Chapter 2 Preparations
Chapter 3 Castle Hadrian
Chapter 4 Monuments
Chapter 5 Half-deads
Chapter 6 Battle-lines
Chapter 7 Vacation
Chapter 8 Plans
Chapter 9 School Days
Chapter 10 Meeting
Chapter 11 The First Crossing
Chapter 12 The Campout
Chapter 13 Cain
Chapter 14 The Message
Chapter 15 Maaca
Chapter 16 The Cave
Chapter 17 The Field
Chapter 18 Malachi
Chapter 19 The Decision
Chapter 20 Maaca’s Battle
Chapter 21 Captivity
Chapter 22 Horses
Chapter 23 Gifts
Chapter 24 Initiation
Chapter 25 The Journey
Chapter 26 Desert-dragons
Chapter 27 The Return
Chapter 28 Ogres
Chapter 29 The Banquet
Chapter 30 The Elf Lands
Chapter 31 Ullr and Wuldur
Chapter 32 The Vatten Sea
Chapter 33 Plans
Chapter 34 Rescue
Chapter 35 Arn
Chapter 36 Tiamat’s Attack
Chapter 37 Dragon War
Epilogue
Glossary of Characters
Glossary of Magic
Glossary of Time
Glossary of Locations
Glossary of Possessions
Acknowledgements
Forthcoming novels by C.E. Johnson
Map of Earth
www.ammoliteadventures.com
Map of Acacia
www.ammoliteadventures.com
Glossary of Auras
Colors of auras, and their inborn spell advantages
Black –
Speak to spirits of Ater, form Mavet raa
Blue –
Shields
Brown –
Shape change
Coral –
Variable, fly
Cyan –
Magestone shaper
Gray –
Intelligence, memory
Green –
Heal
Gold –
Elemental control: fire, water, earth, wind
Indigo –
Bondsmates, control animals
Orange –
Enchant objects, prophecy
Red –
Offensive spells, fight
Sand –
Stonework
Silver –
Psionics
Violet –
Potions
White –
Illusions, camouflage
Yellow –
Truth-telling, aura assessment, leadership
Glossary of Half-deads
After death, some spirits go to Ater, a type of purgatory. Through spells, spirits in Ater can be pulled back to the physical world as a Mavet raa.
A Mavet raa is a zombie-esque creature. It will follow the orders of its creator, and will die upon its creator’s death. If a Mavet raa kills a magician, magus will be released, and the energy will transform the creature into a half-dead.
A half-dead can assimilate components of energy released by death in its vicinity, gaining vitality, knowledge and memories. A half-dead will not die when its creator dies.
Transformation from a Mavet raa to half-dead is based on the aura of the first magician killed:
Black –
Vampires, night vision, agility
Blue –
Gargoyle, stone-like skin
Brown –
Were-creature, a single animal form
Coral –
Harpy, half human, half bird
Cyan –
Maricoxi, ape-like creatures
Gray –
Kobold, intelligent, reptilian
Green –
Dryad, nature skills
Gold –
Gnomes, Undines, Sylphs, Fire-serpents. Elemental power
Indigo –
Skinwalker, multiple animal forms
Orange –
Wyvern, small dragons, poisonous bite.
Red –
Goblins, human-sized fighter
Sand –
Troll, intermediate-sized fighter
Silver –
Shade, weak psionic ability
Violet –
Vetala, increased speed
White –
Banshees, camouflage
Yellow –
Ogre, large fighter
Good Timber
The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
That stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king,
But lived and died a scrubby thing.
The man who never had to toil
To heaven from the common soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man,
But lived and died as he began.
Good timber does not grow in ease;
The stronger wind, the tougher trees;
The farther sky, the greater length;
The more the storm, the more the strength;
By sun and cold, by rain and snows,
In tree or man, good timber grows.
Where thickest stands the forest growth
We find the patriarchs of both;
And they hold converse with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and of much strife-
This is the common law of life
—Douglas Malloch
Taken from Mountain Trailways for Youths
By Chas. E Cowman
© 1947. Use by permission of Zondervan
C H A P T E R 1
Droth
Droth sat ramrod straight, with perfect posture on his leather seat aboard a private aircraft. He was a noble-appearing older gentleman, with a full head of thick white hair, and a strong, wide jaw. Although he was in his early sixties, he was still in good shape for his age with a raw, sinewy strength. On Acacia, he was renowned as a skilled general, adept warrior, and talented black magician, but few were still aliv
e on that planet who would recognize him. He had spent entirely too much time on Earth, in control of Samil’s operations. “Can you hand me my computer?” He pointed to a silver case on a small table.
“Yes, sir.” Next to him was his assistant for his current mission, a young Acacean magician with a brown aura suggesting components of volatility, apprehension and agitation. The man handed Droth the device.
“You’re lucky to only be on Earth for a short tour of duty,” Droth spoke bluntly as he took the computer. His plane was approaching the airport, and he glanced out the window of the small jet, surveying the monuments in Washington D.C. Evening was approaching and he admired the scattered rays of the sun that still fought the dark with dazzling sword shafts of light. The bright beams were putting up a valiant effort, seemingly unaware of their inexorable fate. Clouds were blowing in, creating a patchwork of shadows that threatened to devour the pale white monuments in their inky blackness. Droth was headed toward one of Samil’s numerous safe-houses that were scattered across the world, all secure sites that Droth had evaluated countless times before their purchase. The Austin site, Droth’s main home, was selected due to its proximity to engineers and mineralogists at the University of Texas, but he worried that the Austin location might be compromised in the near future. Everything of importance would soon be moved.
Rubbing his fingers slowly over the outline of a black dragon that was emblazoned on his computer, he stared intently at the sigil of Samil’s house. To him, the symbol was not an honorable dragon, but darkness, despair and death. He sighed, sinking into a gloomy weariness while reflecting on his evolution. I’m becoming a warrior who has lost his inner values. He slowly opened his device and went to a map displaying his personnel structure on Earth. He had become extremely skilled with computers and his informational technology crew had installed elaborate software on all of his devices, allowing him to pull up data seamlessly. Surveying his deployment map and assets, he felt the sorrows on his shoulders lessen because he enjoyed this part of his job, evaluating strategies.
“How do our forces look?” His assistant edged closer, eyes widening as he glanced at the screen.
Droth didn’t look at the man. “Adequate.” He tried to keep his words sharp and his answer short, hoping to dissuade the man from talking further.
His plan didn’t work. The brown magician cleared his throat. “Will the healers be ready to give us strength on our arrival?”
“They’ll be ready.” Droth had already moved several clusters of skilled healing magicians to the safe-house location to which they were approaching. The healers were known as the ‘dark-rejuvenators,’ and they were prepared to recharge both himself as well as members of his forward operating team to have everyone in battle-form. The majority of Samil’s crews on Earth often didn’t have time to fully acclimate to Earth’s atmosphere and gravity, so Droth instituted teams of healers to infuse healing magus into those needing the daily boost. The number of dark-rejuvenators required to assist his deployed forces severely limited the number of magicians he could bring to Earth.
“We’re arriving at Reagan National Airport.” His assistant wiped the sweat forming on his brow with the back of his hand.
“First time flying?” Droth asked curtly.
His assistant nodded. “Will you need anything once we land, General?”
“Nothing.” Droth shifted his position to angle his computer slightly away from the prying eyes of his assistant. He didn’t trust anyone. He wondered if Samil purposely sent him weak, irritating warriors, just to annoy him. The magician continued to prattle on, but Droth largely ignored him.
After his airplane touched down, Droth separated from his assistant and from a squad of body guards who also exited the jet. He didn’t want to attract attention to himself with his security team, men who looked like the hardened warriors they were. This supreme plan of Samil’s is finally drawing to a close. Droth massaged the tendons in his right hip as he walked. No matter how many rejuvenations he underwent, his muscles refused to express satisfaction with his choice made long ago, to journey through the Prime Portal to Earth. Soon I’ll take Samil’s completed contraption to Acacia, and I’ll return to my homeland. He limped along and unassumingly hailed a taxi to take him to his safe-house. Then, I’ll leave Samil’s side forever.
While in the vehicle, he noticed the driver glancing at him, darting dark eyes behind a curious face. “Why do you want to go east of the river ... dangerous in that area.”
“Business,” Droth grunted. He again opened his laptop, reviewing available warriors for his next mission. He decided to select Milo, a powerful red Acacean magician, to assist him on the final transaction. Droth sent an instant message to the young mage so he could prepare for their next task. After paying the driver a large tip, Droth exited the taxi and started toward a nearby alley.
“Hey mister!” The taxi driver leaned out of his window. “Be careful.” He gestured toward the shadows. “You might not want to go down that alley by yourself.”
Droth ignored the driver and continued to walk down the dark passageway questing out with his ki and with spells to ensure his safety. Both walls were made of brick, and he leaned against the cold, smooth surface while waiting for the taxi to depart. Once the car had disappeared, he was left immersed in the black, as cool and refreshing as a deep lake on a moonless night. He used a different incantation to magically expose a mage-locked door. Droth was on the list for access to the enchanted passageway; therefore, there was no unexpected loss of magus when he used his spell to gain entry.
He proceeded through the opening and was greeted by an Earthling, the captain of his D.C. contract guards. The door slid silently back into place. The captain wordlessly gestured for him to follow and Droth walked behind the guard through a labyrinth of tunnels. He felt like a rat traversing a maze, and he reflected on his disdain for being deep underground. He wished he was soaring on eagle’s wings through the mind of a flying a bondsmate rather than delving through this dank darkness. He passed several checkpoints with more contract soldiers who snapped to attention and saluted him. Droth largely ignored the Earthlings, never returning a salute. These men hadn’t fought in a true war with hand-to-hand combat, they didn’t deserve acknowledgement.
“Sir, I’ll leave you here.” The Earthling didn’t raise his voice above a quiet whisper. He gave Droth a short bow, before wheeling and departing. Droth entered the mage-only zone, a place restricted for Acaceans. The architecture changed as he passed into the stone-section of the complex. Stately columns, mosaics, and statues were interspersed through the hallways. The air was heavy, still, airless. Droth was proud of this enormous portion of his safe-house. He had purchased all the buildings and townhomes on a full block in Washington D.C. before persuading Samil into sending a team of stone-mages across the portal to work for him for a time. A stone-mage was an incredibly rare magician able to work wonders with rock. The magicians had carved an impressive underground compound beneath the surface buildings. Droth approached the area where the recharging rooms lay.
Healers with strong green auras, suggesting compassion, empathy and mercy, rushed up to him and guided him to a sumptuous room. Silk adorned the recliner he was placed upon, and he played with the controls of the chair which could lie flat or be put at different angles. The team brought him potions for his initial energy boost and Droth downed the drinks. He could taste a signature-magus in the liquid and he knew instantly they were made by Rumanovah.
“Are you ready to be recharged?” The lead healer stared into Droth’s eyes. Droth gave him a small nod. The team hooked Droth up to a variety of machines, checking his vitals to monitor his body’s response to their work.
“Welcome, General. I’m glad you arrived safely.” Milo entered the room and bowed respectfully to Droth. His confidence surrounded him like a cloak of power, almost as bold and bright as his crimson aura. His aura suggested composure and efficiency, but also callous, hard indifference. Tall, with curly
brown hair and proud dark eyes with flecks of a rich blood red in his iris, he oozed charisma. He was the son of a minor lord on Acacia, and he looked like the noble Acacean he was. Ringlets and curls bouncing, the young red magician sauntered over to stand next to his commander. “What is your grand vision for our clandestine mission?”
Droth studied Milo’s crimson red aura for other fibers. He was assessing him intently; he didn’t want to fail on his last major undertaking. There were tendrils suggesting savvy intellect. Milo smiled, well-aware that he was being judged. He was hand-picked by Samil for his killing skills, but he was also wise beyond his years. Reclining further in his chair, Droth didn’t immediately answer Milo; instead, he basked a moment in the green magus flowing into him from the rejuvenators. He did his best to stifle a moan of ecstasy. The healers were helping him immensely, and he was impressed by their work. They scurried back and forth as they cast more of their incantations
“Our mission, sir?” Milo asked again, disturbing Droth’s reverie.
“We’re going to obtain the final piece of the puzzle.” Droth felt his concerns evaporate as the mind-numbing energy snaked through his body. “Have you selected a team to escort us?”
Milo nodded while picking up a secure phone line. “I’ll call to verify their status.” He turned away and spoke quietly on the phone for a time before ending the call and returning to Droth’s side. “I added several extra teams of Earth-contract soldiers. Better to be safe than sorry, as the Earthlings like to say.” Milo pulled a small round red magestone out of his pocket. He bounced the stone in his palm. “I’m scheduled to meet with the mercenary leader tonight to give him his initial payment. Would you like to accompany me?”
