The Forlorn Dagger Trilogy Box Set

by Jaxon Reed

  The blood drained from Endrick’s face. He looked down at Thanden, who had followed the conversation. Thanden swung his fist in a silent salute, as if affirming everything Darkstone said. Then he passed out.

  -+-

  “Do you think I overdid it?”

  Redstone and Loadstone walked together through the forest. The taller wizard lifted a branch out of the way, holding it up for Redstone.

  “Absolutely you overdid it,” Loadstone said. “You went completely overboard with the insults. You impugned every fiber of Darkstone’s being.”

  Redstone chuckled with satisfaction. He said, “I don’t care. So long as it gets back to him and he shows up, I don’t care what that old blighter thinks of me.”

  “Oh, it got back to him. You saw the looks on the faces of the ‘Troublesome Trio’ as Mita calls them. They were ready to kill you on the spot.”

  Redstone chuckled again and said, “Good! I’ve been spoiling for a fight ever since they abandoned us the last time.”

  They came to a clearing and stopped, looking around in all directions.

  “We may as well try that spell of yours,” Redstone said. “Then we can hurry up and find where she left it.”

  Loadstone nodded and began swirling his hands around in the air. The sunlight dimmed, and the forest plunged into darkness as a great cloud of inky, light-swallowing blackness spread out from the wizard’s arms and hands. Soon, all luminosity disappeared and their surroundings were plunged into total darkness.

  Except . . . a speck of light flickered in the distance, dimly visible through the trees.

  “There. Do you see it?” Loadstone pointed, even though neither could see his hand.

  Redstone said, “Yes. I’ve got it, let’s go.”

  The darkness dissipated as quickly as it had formed, and they walked forward again.

  -+-

  After an hour of slogging through the undergrowth, the two wizards came at last to another large clearing. Near the middle, sticking straight up out of the ground, stood a black dagger.

  They stopped and smiled at each other. Redstone said, in a dramatic tone of voice, “Behold! The Forlorn Dagger!”

  Loadstone said, “Yes! At last we have found it!”

  They tensed in anticipation, but nothing happened. The wind sighed through the trees. Birds twittered in the distance.

  Redstone said, “Hmmm. I would have thought surely he’d be here by now. I mean, figuring a way around my wards couldn’t have been that hard for him.”

  He stepped out further into the clearing, then froze midstep.

  “Redstone?”

  Loadstone held out his hand and his staff appeared in a flash, the chunk of magnetite at its tip glowing bright with mystical energy. Instead of following Redstone by stepping into the clearing, he tipped the staff down toward the ground. A tendril of black smoke snaked out from the magnetite and into the clearing.

  It too, froze when it came alongside Redstone, the smoke hanging eerily still in the air.

  Quickly, Loadstone cast a Spell of Reanimation on Redstone, a streak of yellow light flashing from his staff to the short, orange-haired wizard.

  The sun blotted out as a giant shadow filled the clearing. An image of Darkstone appeared in the air, a giant projection of his body from the shoulders up, floating safely above the dagger stuck in the ground. His giant head tilted down and sneered at Loadstone, then at Redstone who remained at midstep.

  “Dimwits!” His voice was loud and echoed through the forest. “Did you really think I would fall for your tricks? Where is everybody else? Who have you brought on this fool’s errand to trap me?”

  The projection raised his hands and waved them in a quick circle around his body. Blinding light stretched out all around the clearing, rushing through trees and undergrowth in an ever growing circle.

  But Darkstone’s spell uncovered no hidden wizards, or people of any kind. The projection displayed surprise on his face. Then he scowled and glowered down at Loadstone again.

  Redstone finished his stride, the reanimation spell complete. He looked up at the projection of Darkstone and grinned, then scurried back to the clearing’s edge near Loadstone.

  He said, “Well, lookie there! That’s one way to defeat my wards. Gotta hand it to you, Darko, that is very clever.”

  Darkstone’s projection glared down at them. He said, “What have you done? Where is everybody? Did you really think you could defeat me alone? Did the Council truly expect two minor wizards to take me on without any help?”

  Redstone, said, “Minor?”

  Loadstone said, “Oh, we have some help. But first we need to get you here. Let’s make it a proper fight.”

  He aimed his staff up at the projection and said, “Wizard Darkstone, I summon you!”

  A black streak of light shot up at the image. Darkstone’s eyes widened in terror as his projection melted. The shiny black string slowly pulled back into the stone, with the melting image following it down toward the ground and seeming to flow into it at the same time.

  A moment later Darkstone materialized in the air, arms akimbo. He fell in a heap in front of the two wizards. Redstone quickly cast a Spell of Suspended Animation while Loadstone cast a magical sphere around him.

  “It’s trans-dimensional,” Loadstone said with a smile, white teeth flashing from his dark face.

  “Oh, like he did on us?”

  “Precisely. I’ve studied it quite extensively since Mita rescued us. It’s a very effective trap.”

  “How about that final one? You know, the time trap thing he used on us?”

  “I’ve been practicing it, but it seems to work in odd ways. I don’t fully understand that one”

  “Aye, me neither,” Redstone said. “Well, this ought to hold him. I mean, it’s trans-dimensional and all.”

  POOM!

  The explosion of bright white light knocked both wizards back and off their feet. Darkstone stood exultant, one hand held high, the other holding his staff.

  “Fools! I have studied every magical trap known to man! Did you not think I could escape the very ones I used on you?”

  All three men heard a distant whistling, the sound of something traveling through the air at a high rate of speed. It came steadily closer, growing louder by the second.

  Redstone stood back up. He smiled and said, “Aha! Here’s that help we were talking about.”

  A spell hit the clearing, a ball of pure white light swallowing Darkstone completely. The wizards could see him struggling inside the globe, streaks of light flying from his staff. But each time the light seemed to almost overcome the globe, the globe changed colors. It went from white to yellow, to orange, to red, to brown, to purple, to black, then back to white again. Then it quickly cycled through the other colors in random order.

  Loadstone said, “Brilliant! A combination of trap spells. As he escapes one, a new one generates and he has to start over again.”

  Mita flew down and landed beside them, at last catching up to her spell. She said, “Thanks. I thought it up as I was flying over. Never tried it before.”

  FOOM!

  A larger explosion of light lit up the clearing. Darkstone emerged angry this time, his hair and beard tousled, his ragged robe torn worse than usual, and his eyes blood-shot with a murderous look on his face.

  Redstone said to Mita, “Don’t feel bad. Yours held him longer than ours did.”

  Darkstone said, “Now you’re going to pay, Battlemaiden. I bring this spell just for you.”

  He stretched out his staff and three nasty black balls of light shot out. One sailed toward Mita, the other two for Redstone and Loadstone.

  Chapter 17

  Thanden was already asleep, sprawled out on the table. Endrick felt sleepy himself. He stifled a yawn as Darkstone began his Spell of Projection. He watched, bored, as the wizard danced and gesticulated, then shouted at somebody only he could see and hear. Darkstone demanded to know where the other wizards were, and swept hi
s arms in a wide arc, obviously causing something magical to occur at wherever he was projecting himself.

  Endrick started to doze off.

  When Darkstone cried out in alarm, Endrick snapped awake. Darkstone screamed and . . . melted. It seemed almost like his body became smoke, only thicker. But it melted and flowed toward a point in the center of the table, a hole in the air that seemed to suck in the smoky, liquid body.

  Then, Darkstone was gone. Endrick jumped up and ran to where the wizard had been standing. But there were no traces of him anywhere. He looked down at the table and spied Thanden, who had slept through it all.

  “Get up!”

  Endrick swiped at the sprite’s tiny body, sending him flying across the room to splat against the wall. Thanden slid down to the floor, landing in a pile. Tiny stars appeared, rapidly circling his head.

  Endrick said, “Where did he go?” He stomped over and towered above the tiny sprite. “He was right here, then something sucked him out of the room!”

  Jumping up, an expression of alarm on his face, Thanden ran under the table and made a show of looking under each chair.

  “He’s not here, I tell you! Something took him forcibly and by magic.”

  Thanden held an elbow with one hand and rubbed his chin with the other, looking up in a corner of the room.

  “Don’t just stand there, go find him! You always seem to know where he is. Find him and bring him back!”

  The little sprite smiled broadly, clapped his hands and jumped up and down. He poked his chest with a thumb and nodded confidently at Endrick. Then he jumped up into the air and flew in a slow and crooked path out the window.

  Endrick sat back down in a chair and slumped in defeat. All thoughts of puppetry, malice, and envy left him, all boredom and irritation now long gone. In their place, he felt a growing sense of dread, like a soldier going into battle who has just lost his sword.

  He slammed his fist on the table and said, “Someone has stolen my wizard!”

  -+-

  All the time of growing comfort with the assembled metal men standing on their streets just went out the window, Trant thought.

  The animus spell Greystone gave the metal men relit the lights in their hollow heads, making their eyes glow. Each contraption stood straight now and slowly marched out of the village, sending everybody in the street running for their lives. Greystone flew above them, making sure they followed his directions.

  When the final one marched out of the hidden village’s magical gateway into the forest clearing, they all stopped, arranged in a perfect line, all 62 of them.

  Trant sat astride a large roan, wearing the brilliant green colors of Emerald. Ten thousand soldiers stood behind him, or sat in their own saddles if they rode. All wore the orange-red leather armor of Coral. Their numbers seemed far more than necessary, in his opinion. He had a wizard and an army of 62 metal men, after all. But King Keel, his future father-in-law, insisted on loaning him nearly half his army.

  “Always attack with superior numbers,” Keel had said to him. Trant stopped arguing when Greystone mentioned the visible support of his ally would send a powerful message to the Emeraldians. The wizard had a point. Feeding 10,000 men was another matter entirely, but Greystone did not seem worried on that point, so Trant tried not to worry, either.

  And that’s how I found myself in charge of an entire division of Coralian ground forces, he thought. He looked back at his three field marshals, leaders who would pass down his orders and be responsible for their execution.

  He said, “We march behind the metal men. We’ll let them scare the enemy, and hopefully take out as many that want to fight us as they can. Let’s let the iron boys do the hard work for us.”

  The field marshals smiled and nodded before passing on his words.

  I’m sure that’ll be a popular idea, Trant thought. No sense dying in a foreign country for a displaced sovereign you hardly know. Not if you don’t have to.

  Trant waved up at the wizard, still floating in the air. Greystone waved back, then turned and cast a large Globe of Transport. The giant hazy ball of yellow light appeared in the field at ground level, slowly rotating. The wizard made a motion toward the metal men, and they began marching into the globe, disappearing one by one.

  -+-

  A farmer walked down the road from Kathar, Emerald’s capital. His cart rolled empty, his entire load of fruit having sold at the market that morning. All told, he had profited quite handsomely. Food was in short supply in Kathar, and his modest selection brought in a heavy handful of silver rather than the more typical purse of copper they usually fetched.

  Thus, well before lunch, he departed the marketplace and led his cow out of the city with the empty cart trundling behind her. The farmer plodded forward, the rope around the neck of his cow hanging loose between them.

  A giant hazy ball of yellow light suddenly appeared in the middle of the road. Startled, the farmer stopped. His eyes grew wide in wonder. The cow poked her head around his side to look, too.

  The ground shook, and a giant metal man, 30 paces tall, tromped through the hazy yellow light, bearing straight down the road for him. Eyes in its cylindrical head glowed with an unnatural light. Behind it, another metal man stepped out of the globe, and another.

  The farmer looked at his cow, his mouth wide open. He turned toward the side of the road and pulled on her rope, leading her out of the way of a now seemingly endless line of marching monstrosities.

  The long line of metal men, over threescore the farmer reckoned, finally made it all through the yellow hazy light. Then a wizard flew through. He motioned with his staff and the metal men lined up in formation, now covering area on both sides of the road. They continued marching toward Kathar.

  “You seen it, Bess,” the farmer said to his cow. “Tin giants, and then a flyin’ man! How I wished you could talk. M’wife Gertrude will ne’er believe me!”

  A fine young man astride a white horse rode through the light next, wearing the royal colors of Emerald. He was followed quickly by three equally resplendent warriors, clad in red-orange leather. The man in green said to them, “Have your battalions line up behind the metal men and prepare to march.”

  The men in leather saluted, then stepped out of the way as wave after wave of soldiers came through, some on horseback, but most on foot.

  While the leaders worked on sorting the men out, the man in green spied the farmer staring with his mouth wide open. He smiled and nudged his horse over to the spot beside the road where the farmer and his cow stood watching.

  “I’m Trant, son of Tren and Karla. I’ve come to take back the throne from Endrick.”

  The farmer stared at him, mute, his mouth hanging open.

  Trant smiled and pointed further off to the side of the road. He said, “If you’re willing to walk cross country for a bit, you can pass the transport globe and continue on your way. I regret the inconvenience we seem to have caused you.”

  The farmer’s mouth closed and his brows furrowed in confusion. Finding his voice, he said, “A king regrets causin’ me trouble? Beggin’ yer pardon, Sire, but that don’t seem right. I’s just a common farmer, of no concern to Yer Grace.”

  Trant smiled and said, “I think you’ll find me quite the different ruler than you’re used to. Go back home and tell everyone the rightful heir to the throne is here at last. And in my kingdom, everyone is important and to be treated well. Even common farmers.”

  Trant gave him a final smile, then reined his horse back toward the soldiers and metal men.

  The farmer closed his mouth, gave his cow one last disbelieving look, then slowly led her in the direction Trant had pointed out.

  He said, “We’d stay an’ watch some more, Bess, but I gots to get home an’ tell Gert all abouts this. Metal men. Flyin’ men. An’ kings talkin’ to farmers! In all my days I ne’er reckoned I’d talk to a king. Now ol’ Endrick, that suited me jus’ fine not talkin’ to that rat bastard. But this fella here seemed m
ighty nice. Dandiest outfit I e’er seen on a man. And that horse! That horse was worth more than our farm, I’d wager. A right fine warhorse that was . . .”

  He continued talking to the cow as they made their way around the hazy transport globe and headed back down the road.

  “Ain’t nobody gonna believe me. The King talked to me . . . Wish you could talk, Bess. They’re gonna laugh when I tell ’em. You could have my back, if you could talk.”

  -+-

  Mita said, “Get away!”

  She cast spells of suspended animation, barrier, and ice. Darkstone’s black balls of light slowed to a crawl, but never stopped completely. They each came for their target with an inexorable will.

  Redstone cast a series of spells on the one inching toward him. Loadstone tried the same sphere trap that had held Darkstone momentarily, but the globe coming for him passed right through it, unfazed.

  Mita said to them, “Leave! I’ll handle this. You both need to put some distance between yourself and these things.”

  Redstone snorted. He said, “We’re not going anywhere, lass.”

  “Then you’ll die here!” Darkstone said.

  He lobbed a spell at them while they were distracted, sending powerful streaks of energy from his staff, striking all three at once. Mita slammed up against a large tree and slid down to the ground. Redstone went head over heels, rolling backward into the woods. Loadstone flew back and landed on his butt. The black balls of light sped back up as they fell. Loadstone stood quickly and cast spells of suspended animation on all three globes.

  Mita stood up, her magical armor spreading across her head and face. The globes slowed to a crawl again, each slowly floating toward their prey.

  “Get him,” Loadstone said. “We can handle these parlor tricks.”

  “Parlor tricks?” Darkstone said. “These are Globes of Doom, fool. Once cast they cannot be stopped. They will consume their target. One of Lok’s better spells.”