The Summoner's Path (D'Vaire, Book 10)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  THE SUMMONER’S PATH

  JESSAMYN KINGLEY

  Copyright © 2019 Jessamyn Kingley

  All Rights Reserved

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing: Flat Earth Editing

  Cover Design: 2019 © L.J. Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  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

  About the Author

  Also by Jessamyn Kingley

  Chapter 1

  1367 AD

  “Dre’Kariston, you must go,” Grand Summoner Saura pleaded.

  Dre’Kariston shook his head in a near-violent motion. “I will not leave.”

  “The Cwylld elven are relentless. You must do what is best for the coven,” Grand Warlock T’Eirick insisted.

  “With Dra’Kaedan missing, I’m the most powerful here. I won’t be helping our people if I run off to hide,” Dre’Kariston told his parents. All around them, warlocks were preparing for an assault on the castle, and Dre’Kariston wouldn’t escape to a cottage, leaving his people without his sorcery to protect them.

  His mother’s blue eyes filled with tears as she cupped Dre’Kariston’s face in her hands. “Listen to me. We do not yet know the fate of Dra’Kaedan—he may be lost to us forever. I cannot lose both of my sons. You will go. Stay safe…so if the worst should happen, the warlocks will have a leader. You have known since your birth that you would someday be Grand Summoner. Now, with our dear Dra’Kaedan gone, you very well may find yourself as Grand Warlock.”

  “My necklace is imbued with Dra’Kaedan’s essence. Were he dead, the light in it would be extinguished.” Dre’Kariston’s words were adamant. He believed his brother was still alive. He had to be. They were not only siblings but twins and were the closest of friends. Life without Dra’Kaedan didn’t bear contemplating, and neither did a world without his parents in it. If Dre’Kariston failed to fight in the war with the horrible Cwylld elven, there was a very real chance they would perish.

  “You must heed the words of your mother,” T’Eirick demanded. “I created the necklaces for you and Dra’Kaedan, so you would always be able to find one another. Since Dra’Kaedan’s disappearance, the dragon emblem has not stopped spinning. I did not imbue it with that ability. It should be leading you straight to his location, but it does not. Though I can hardly stand the thought, it may very well be proof of his demise.”

  “No, the light in it would be snuffed out. That was the spell you used—you told us that when we were hardly more than babes. You are much too strong of a sorcerer to have failed at your task,” Dre’Kariston argued. His mother dropped her hands from his face, then embraced him so tightly he feared his lungs would fail to give him air. When her hold loosened, Dre’Kariston breathed in her comforting scent, knowing they weren’t going to allow him to stay. He did not want to leave his parents. Losing his brother was hard enough. What would he do without his family? To say nothing of all the other warlocks that would lose their lives.

  “I appreciate your faith in me, son…but we have no way of knowing Dra’Kaedan still walks on this side of the veil. I will do all that I can to ensure we need not light your pyre. Go to the cottage and stay there until the damnable Cwylld can be stopped,” T’Eirick said.

  “I do not wish to go.” Dre’Kariston’s words ended with a sob. He was but eighteen years of age, and though Fate gave him an immortal lifespan, she appeared determined to make him spend it alone.

  Saura released him and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “You must,” she whispered as she pulled his head down to lay a kiss on his forehead. “Now, give your father a hug and be off. Never forget how much we love you.”

  “I love you too,” he choked out as he was tugged close to his father’s chest.

  “You’ve been a good son. I could not be prouder to be your father,” T’Eirick told him. When their eyes met, both father and son were weeping.

  “You will send for me if things become dire? I can help. I can,” Dre’Kariston begged.

  “Your skills are not in doubt,” T’Eirick replied. “Go now.”

  Dre’Kariston memorized the features of their beloved faces through his tears. Deep down he feared that if he teleported to the family cottage, he would not be with them again. The Cwylld elven had attacked their people with a vengeance and possessed stones which drained sorcerers of their power. The Coven of Warlocks was outmatched and had already suffered the loss of many lives.

  “Be safe, my son,” Saura said as she touched a hand briefly to his cheek. “Go on, now.”

  With a nod, Dre’Kariston closed his eyes as his chest hitched. He teleported to the cottage he used to visit on occasion with his parents and brother. Once the stones were beneath his feet, he sank to his knees and cried as desolation overtook him. Anger surged through him as he thought about the Cwylld elven, and it became full-fledged rage when the man, whose perfidy had already become known, came to mind. Carvallius of Mallent was one of his people, a dark warlock, who wanted nothing more than to have his parents’ titles for himself. Because of Carvallius’s unrealistic and selfish desires, Dre’Kariston’s world was falling apart. Someday, Dre’Kariston vowed, the man will pay for what he’s done.

  * * *

  For weeks Dre’Kariston haunted the cottage he was forced to retreat to. Every morning he woke and was tempted to return to the castle of his birth, but his mother was not a woman to be trifled with. Both of his parents would demand he return, and he would not allow himself to become a distraction they did not need while they fought the Cwylld. With little to do on his own, Dre’Kariston concentrated on hunting down food and finding ways to fill the hours until he laid his troubled mind down to sleep.

  Tempted though he may have been to leave, Dre’Kariston also took measures to keep himself safe. A light magic bubble surrounded the land—enough to alert him should anyone wander close—but it did not deter or keep enemies out. Battle did not scare him, and it rankled that he was unable to use his great
wealth of power to fight. Fate made him and his brother the two strongest warlocks ever born, so being at war while his single greatest enemy was boredom troubled him.

  As if she were listening to his thoughts, Dre’Kariston sensed a prickling at the base of his neck. Someone had crossed his barrier, and he hoped it was more than a lost soul wandering in the woods.

  “Dre’Kariston of Leolinnia, show yourself,” a voice boomed out. It was one Dre’Kariston recognized, as he’d often arrived at his parents’ castle demanding an audience.

  “I do not fear you, Carvallius of Mallent,” Dre’Kariston yelled back. He had no idea how the sorcerer found him, but he welcomed the opportunity to mete out justice. Gathering magic, he sent a navy-colored ball into the area just behind the cottage. The spell he chanted turned it into a large dragon. It would not be able to damage Carvallius much, but there was no way for the man to know it was barely more than a mirage. The warlocks were told only months before that dragons were real. It made him think of his dear brother, who was quite obsessed with them and vowed he’d find his mate to be one. Though not all believed—including Dre’Kariston himself—that they truly lived, he hoped the image of what was once thought to be fabled would cause fear in the heart of Carvallius.

  Once the dragon was resting comfortably, Dre’Kariston wrapped himself in a dark cloak and threw open the door of the cottage. In the bright sun of the afternoon, the red hair of his most-hated enemy was impossible to miss.

  “You should fear me, boy. I will see you dead before the day is done,” Carvallius retorted when his eyes landed on Dre’Kariston. He shot out a bolt of dark energy toward Dre’Kariston that he skillfully deflected.

  “You are not half the sorcerer you think you are,” Dre’Kariston threw out as he shoved a silvery globe straight for Carvallius’s heart.

  The breath whooshed from Carvallius as his face contorted into a sneer. Using both hands, he thrust a slew of black arrows toward Dre’Kariston. It was impossible for Dre’Kariston to avoid them all, and when the evil magic hit the light that lived inside him, the agony tore through him.

  Responding by sending out a barrage of projectiles of his own, he laughed as Carvallius’s long tunic caught fire. The sorcerer cursed as he extinguished himself. Then he fought Dre’Kariston in earnest. There was little time to think, so Dre’Kariston allowed his instincts to take over. He’d spent his whole life practicing magic, and it would not let him down. Pain ricocheted through him as Carvallius landed a blow, but Dre’Kariston did not let it deter him. He continued to hurl bolts of pure energy toward Carvallius.

  One blow hit Carvallius hard enough that it tossed him backward, but he did not relent. Carvallius snarled and rolled to his feet as he heaved more darkness in Dre’Kariston’s direction. It was malignant enough to rip open wounds, and though Dre’Kariston was able to cast healing and continue his onslaught on Carvallius, his skin failed to mend. This was a fight to the death, and Dre’Kariston would be damned if he’d allow it to be his own demise. He shouted for the lurking dragon he’d hidden earlier, and the sky lit up with fire as the beast rose above them.

  “I do not fear you, dragon,” Carvallius screamed out, splitting his magic to attack both Dre’Kariston and his illusion.

  “You will not be mourned,” Dre’Kariston shouted as he pulled deep to unleash everything inside him. His body bled and he was in agony, but Dre’Kariston hid the pain behind his rage. It would be the fuel to see him victorious, and he allowed himself no fear.

  “Begone, beast,” Carvallius ordered the fake dragon. Dre’Kariston fell to his knees, but still he fought.

  “Carvallius of Mallent, the warlocks will never forget your treasonous acts,” Dre’Kariston said as the dark sorcerer was thrown onto his back.

  “This is not my destiny,” Carvallius complained as he lobbed a smoky black ball toward Dre’Kariston. Unable to redirect it fully, Dre’Kariston was caught in the shoulder. The sting of it traveled down to his bones, but he braced his hands on the ground and forced himself back to his feet. Though he sensed Carvallius was running out of strength, he was still sending small bursts of magic in Dre’Kariston’s direction.

  “You will pay with your life,” Dre’Kariston promised him when he reached his side. He stared down at the man who’d caused a war which had already killed thousands, and he could find no pity for him. Carvallius was swinging his head from side to side, and his blown pupils made it plain that he lacked sight.

  “This is not my destiny,” Carvallius repeated.

  “Tell me how you found me,” Dre’Kariston demanded. “It was you who took my brother, was it not? Tell me where he is.”

  “I will tell you nothing.”

  “I care not if you die with your secrets.”

  “You will not best me,” Carvallius bit out. He was covered in a multitude of seeping wounds, and he was fighting for each lungful of air.

  Dre’Kariston’s legs shook as he held himself upright, and his own blood mixed with Carvallius’s on the forest ground beneath them. He gathered the last dregs of the power inside him and shoved it straight into the heart of the man who’d betrayed the warlocks. His scream was music to Dre’Kariston’s ears. “I already have,” he whispered as he once again dropped to his knees on the soft earth below. The fire in the sky died out as Dre’Kariston’s dragon disappeared.

  The last breath of Carvallius rattled through his chest, and Dre’Kariston searched the pockets of the sorcerer’s cloak with trembling fingers. His vision was dim, but he smiled brightly when he pulled out a gold necklace with a glowing dragon emblem on it. His mind was too taxed to reason out how Carvallius had succeeded in getting the chain and medallion from Dra’Kaedan. He would soon find his twin and get the story. Clutching it in his fist, the life around Dre’Kariston leached from the land as Carvallius’s evil drained from his body.

  Dre’Kariston fell over on his side as the pain registered more fully in his mind now that the battle was done. He comforted himself with the thought that his brother was alive somewhere. Had Carvallius met him in battle, Dra’Kaedan would’ve been victorious, and the dark warlock would not have shown up to take on Dre’Kariston. The vile Carvallius was dead, and Dre’Kariston’s people would suffer no longer at the mercy of his greedy desires. Before unconsciousness claimed him, Dre’Kariston made a promise to heal, then head back to his parents’ castle to help turn the tide of war.

  Chapter 2

  Dre’Kariston had no idea how long he languished at what was left of the cottage. When he’d gained consciousness after his battle, he couldn’t stand seeing the body of the warlocks’ betrayer. Though he was covered in wounds and his magic was still nearly depleted, he’d fired off a bolt of energy to light Carvallius’s pyre. For the first time in eighteen years of life, his power had not acted as expected. Not only had he torched the lifeless Carvallius, but he’d taken half the cottage with it. Dead trees ignited, and Dre’Kariston had been unable to extinguish any of it. He’d needed to get away to stop himself from being burned.

  On hands and knees, he’d crawled from the blaze only to pass out a few feet from his original resting spot. When he opened his eyes again, the sky was filled with stars. Inside him, dark and light energy battled for supremacy. Since his birth Dre’Kariston had been tempted by the blackness, but he was much too young to decide his path of sorcery. The war within him made him wish he’d already accepted his true nature—for the pain of having both was torturous. He couldn’t cast to heal himself, as none of his spells acted as they should, and he had already harmed himself more than he’d mended any injuries.

  Days passed as Dre’Kariston’s skin festered and his belly ached from hunger. He lacked the strength to even lift his body from the forest floor, and his lips were cracked as he had no access to water. His mouth had no moisture to offer them; his tongue was fair stuck to the roof of his mouth. If he didn’t act, he would lose his chance at immortality and die just like Carvallius had. Though he was still too untrained to sum
mon his familiar, he needed someone to help care for him. He feared the process as his conjuring was unpredictable, but he had no choice.

  He lifted a bleeding hand and muttered the words which would lift the mark of his familiar from his back. At first nothing at all happened, and a tear slipped down his cheek as he realized death was imminent. Then a bright globe formed to his right and it turned murky. A man who resembled Dre’Kariston emerged, and his facial expression was grim.

  “You know better than to summon me with your magic in conflict.”

  “I require your aid,” Dre’Kariston told him.

  “What will you name me?”

  “Will you accept the name Derwin?”

  “You’ve picked a name which means dear friend, though I do not feel as if it is truly what you feel for me.”

  “You’re my familiar. Of course you are a dear friend, and I have need of you.”

  Derwin’s frown was ferocious. “Which is the only reason you’ve summoned me. It is too soon. I’ll be forced to learn much of sorcery on my own.”

  Dre’Kariston was growing too tired to keep his eyes open. He was willing to take the blame for his decision, but he was desperate for drink. “You have my memories. You should readily be able to find the well behind the cottage. Please, will you fetch me some water?”

  “I suppose I have no choice. I feel you trembling on this precipice of the veil. Your death would mean mine as well,” Derwin replied as he trudged off.

  “My thanks,” Dre’Kariston whispered, though he doubted his familiar heard.

  Time passed slowly as Dre’Kariston waited for Derwin to reappear. The familiar smacked a wooden bucket down next to Dre’Kariston with such force; some of the precious liquid sloshed over the side and wet his blood-caked clothing. “Here is the water.”

  “I must beg your assistance in drinking it.”

  Derwin let out a gusty sigh. “I suppose I need to procure a cup for you as well.”

  “I know you’re angry, but I would do this on my own could I find the strength.”