A Summoner's Calling

by Jacquelyn Evans

  A Summoner’s Calling

  The Redwood Dynasty

  Jacquelyn Evans

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Jacquelyn E. Evans

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  First Edition: May 2020

  Book Cover: www.bookcoverzone.com

  Editor: Loretta Leslie

  Proofreader :

  Critique Partner :

  Virtual Coaches : Jenna Moreci, Kim Chance, Vivien Reis

  ISBN : 978-1-7347884-0-2

  Published by Jacquelyn E. Evans

  Dedication

  To my ever-supportive husband, Matt

  and family

  Table of Contents

  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

  Other Books by Jacquelyn Evans

  Author Page

  Woods : Erryn

  1

  Castle Wyvern towers over the kingdom of Dragonar. It has once resembled an honorable and awe-inspiring structure, but now only accrues nightmares of terror. Its perpetual shadows leer over the crumbling kingdom, haunting the once brave dragonic worshippers now frail and deprived, regardless of whether the sun or moon hails from the sky. Inside the macabre castle, Erryn grips her older sister’s hand to calm her sweating nerves as they execute their deceitful plans.

  Although unsure of success, Jet has always been her sole refuge since their capture by King Vladimir. Jet faces her, pressing a finger against her own lips. She gestures with her eyes toward the hall around the bend. Erryn understood this instruction, keeping watch for any patrolling soldiers. She presses her body against the shadowy stone walls as Jet’s hand releases from beyond her reach. Memories distract her senses.

  Visions surface with vivid clarity as fresh wounds and bruises remain throughout her body. Erryn’s arms begin to have weight. The memory triggers heaviness of her restraints, which have bounded her during horrendous experiments. Her arms warm with hate longing for revenge against their captor, but only to have quaking nerves which weaken her resolve. It makes an escape plan their most viable option.

  Erryn redirects her focus to a hallway clear from patrolling soldiers, signaling to Jet. Sneaking down the black marble floored hall, they’re careful not let their footsteps echo down the gothic corridors decorated with gazing dragonic gargoyles. However, before they could leave the hall, Erryn stops. She grabs onto Jet’s shirt as echoes of three soldier marching are heard throughout the hall.

  They would be sure to check their room as part of routine. Gripping each other’s hand, they bolt for the end of the black marbled floor to descend the stairs. The echo stops for a moment as they surely reached their room. Only, it leads to shouting, which rattles the air as they reach halfway down the turning stairs. The three soldiers hurry in their pursuit, as panic fogs Erryn’s thoughts. But as they reach the bottom step, Jet yanks her into an opening. Although in disarray, Erryn seizes the moment to close the door silently before the guards could gain perceive them. Jet grabs onto Erryn’s biceps , locking eyes. She helps Erryn to quietly breath as they charge by. As silence befalls the main hall, they finally sigh in relief while gaining breath.

  Tension eases as Erryn observes the hall with its unfamiliar barren bricks. Several maids pause in their duties and stare at them. Exhaustion and bruises, both fresh and old, are as visible as their tattered garbs.

  “Where are we? I always thought this led to a storage closet,” Erryn asks as Jet leads her along.

  “It’s a shortcut built within the walls, leading to just about anywhere in the castle,” she explains as Erryn notices many copper pipes running along the walls. Steam hisses as it attempts to push out through the missing bolts. Jet stops abruptly at a corner to a hall that breaks off the narrow main maid tunnel. Erryn bumps into her, unable to stop in time.

  “This way,” Jet whispers, hurrying towards the spotted door. As Jet opens it, Erryn pokes her head around her - following her sister’s eyes to a lit oil lantern hanging off to the right of the door jam. Then, she proceeds to glimpse about a small room which is across the enlarged hall. Its black marble floors continue left into the grand hall, decorated with magnificent drapes. The crimson drapes dress the walls from ceiling to floor, trimmed in black satin bearing Vladimir’s crest as they are accompanied by many more posted soldiers.

  “What now?” Erryn asks. Jet hushes her as three soldiers’ footsteps echo down the hall, drawing nearer.

  “Stay on my heels,” Jet whispers and unhooks the lantern. She scuttles across the hallway and throws the lantern into the small room. Jet hurries to pull Erryn while she hugs the wall and sneaks behind a soldier.

  They use the heavy, thick drapes to hide behind. Erryn jumps as the small room explodes.

  “What was in there?”

  “Some weapons and a barrel of black powder.”

  “Did you know it was going to do that?”

  “No, but I thought the parchments would catch fire. This is way better.” Erryn risks a look. Parchments are flying about, burning. Flames are billowing out. Soldiers bang down to the corridor to investigate.

  Then, as the soldiers are trying to put out the fire, they hear clanking of heavy armor. Erryn catches sight of a signature blade, the Sentinel’s Edge. She craves to drive it through the wearer’s heart for his part in her and Jet’s ordeals.

  “What is going on?” The man’s black uniform, which has spiked full-plated armor, gives him an air of power.

  “There was a sudden explosion in this room, sir. Among our immediate findings is a broken hooded lantern. It seems to have ignited the explosion.” The soldier stands to attention, addressing the commander.

  “Close those doors. Until we’ve identified whoever ignited this, no one’s permitted to leave. The king won’t be happy about this,” he declares as three soldiers clatter around the corner.

  “Something wrong?” The heavily armored man asks, walking over to stand before them.

  “General Gesthal!”

  They salute.

  “Soldiers, having trouble on your feet today?” Gesthal asks.

  “No, sir. Just trying to hustle, sir,” one replies. They move to stand aligned with one another across the width of the hall. Sweat trickles down their brows.

  “Your name, soldiers?” Gesthal
asks.

  “Cory Tempest, sir. They were…” the young Tempest says, until tapering off upon the general leaning in closer. Now towering over Tempest, Erryn could hear the familiar low-tone daunting growl which had always been followed by punishment.

  “I know who you are. I asked for their names. You’re fortunate your brother is such an excellent soldier here, vouching for you. Otherwise, I would’ve you flogged, and sentenced to the pits. At least I wouldn’t have to tolerate your nuisance within the volcanic mines.”

  Erryn shudders at the mention of the pits. No one neither comes back from there, nor can they escape it. Vladimir’s men also tremble when its ever spoken. Cory’s shoulders slouch by the general’s badgering words. His comrades are threatened to return to their tasks or face the impending fate.

  The other soldiers salute, fleeing to their posts. Gesthal almost never gives anyone a chance to avoid such a death sentence. Upon the soldiers turning towards their objective, the general crosses his arms with a pause to look down on Cory.

  “And if memory serves me correctly, wasn’t your task to guard the girls’ room?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then why are you here?” Gesthal’s manner implies a clear throat.

  “Jet, I think we should go before he answers,” Erryn quivers. She has heard that tone too often and always preceding pain. Erryn tugs Jet’s hand. “Have a look. All the guards are occupied with Gesthal.”

  Before closing the drape, Erryn notices a soldier –the same one they had snuck behind. He winked at her before returning his attention to the crowd. Erryn nods in the direction that is least attended.

  “What!” Gesthal’s voice carries throughout the halls, echoing with frustration as the soldier finishes his explanation.

  As they continue, Erryn hears Vladimir’s voice in a room nearby. Her desire for revenge, which is felt so strongly only when she is not in his presence, is thwarted by her fear of what he is of doing to her. Her years of conditioning leaves her paralyzed.

  “Alright. I want everything ready to go. Jet won’t get in the way this time. We must understand this beautiful power within her Arthro’s coming evolution depends on it. The weight of this couldn’t even be fathomed by late father. I refuse to allow her power to fall under anyone else’s orders,” he demands.

  Jet turns to her, realizing her paralysis. Gazing into her eyes and with a comforting grip, she gains her attention. “Erryn, it’s okay. He won’t be able to; not this time. Let’s go.” Erryn nods, continuing a little further as a loud clanging approaches fast behind them. They press themselves into a doorway.

  “Sir.” The newcomer gasps for air.

  “Gesthal, what has you palpitating so much on this beautiful day?” Vladimir asks.

  “Sir, I fear that today is the day. The girls; they’re missing,” Gesthal says.

  “You’re joking, right, old friend?” Vladimir laughs.

  “I’m afraid not, your highness.”

  Vladimir’s laughter tapers off erupting into a rage, “Can one day go right? One day? Your one job was to see to it that the girls were kept confined. Two miserable, weak girls and you couldn’t even do that. Incompetent! Stop the drills. Summon all the soldiers, including the Black Razors! I want them found! Now!”

  The girls wait until the noise of footsteps fade. They follow the corridor to a door which opens onto a training field. Erryn surveys the training field that’s surrounded by tall trees and bushes. Then, a memory dawns on her as she pulls Jet behind her.

  “Where’re we going?” she whispers, and Erryn hushes her. She points to the bushes in front of the trees. They hustle across the field as soldiers run towards them. Once they reach the bushes, Erryn tunnels her way in. She crawls to a tree with a deep borrow at the base, signaling Jet to go down. Inside is a small furry creature no bigger than their palms. It greets Erryn and she smiles, petting it.

  “His name is Chunky,” Erryn whispers.

  “First Bear and now Chunky. At least you were able to make a friend during all this,” Jet sighs.

  Erryn remembers their first friend they first made during the short time they spent there before the experiments began.

  “I miss him.” Erryn continues, petting Chunky.

  “Me too.” Jet’s eyes fill with tears.

  “Footprints, hm?” Tempest says outside the bushes. He follows them closer to the front of their tree. He stomps on twigs, startling Erryn and she drops Chunky. Chunky shakes his head and rushes out of the tree. Erryn reaches out her hand to grab him, but he darts outside.

  “What’s this? A little pest?” They hear Tempest stomp and a quick squeak. Tempest brushes Chunky’s lifeless body under the tree. It rolls back down into the burrow. Erryn’s eyes flood with loss as Jet hugs her, covering her mouth to muffle her cries.

  “Soldier? Anything?” Gesthal calls out.

  “No, sir. It was just a pest,” he reports, turning away from their hiding place. Jet adjusts herself as Erryn buries her face into her chest, sobbing silently.

  “For your own sake, you’d better hope they haven’t escaped,” Gesthal says as they begin to look elsewhere.

  The area grows quiet.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about Chunky. He gave his life for us, so we have to be strong now. There’s no telling how much worse it’ll be if they catch us. Come on, while we still can,” Jet says. Erryn raises her face, wiping the remaining tears away and calming her sobs. After Erryn gives a small, sadden goodbye to Chunky, they clamber out of the burrow and crawl their way through the bushes to the wall. Bits of twig and leaves catch their hair and scratch their faces, but nothing compared to the scars they bear from their torture. Under the cover of the shrubs, they inch their way along the castle’s walls. Erryn knows there’s no point in trying the main entrance since it’ll be heavily guarded. Their only hope is a postern gate which may be lightly manned. As they sneak by, Erryn spots a shortened thick branch that she takes for her own defense.

  “Wait.” Erryn signals for Jet to stop at the edge of the shrubs. Between them and the gate is about a hundred yards of open ground except for an apple cart waiting transportation. Erryn and Jet watch through the wheels of the cart as Gesthal quizzes the two guards. They sneak across half the field, gaining shade from a cart as Gesthal gestures to the castle and the gate.

  They salute as a soldier runs inside the castle while the remaining halts all oncoming wares and seals the rusted gate. Refusing passage to anyone, even the workers, he directs them to align the path with the crates till further notice. Erryn watches, affirming Gesthal’s leave.

  “That’s good and bad.”

  “How so?” Jet asks.

  “Good that Gesthal will be looking elsewhere. Bad the guard will be on alert.”

  “OK, let’s watch and see what he does.”

  Erryn counts the number of paces the guard takes in each direction and how many seconds it takes. “We have fifteen seconds to make it behind those stacked crates before he turns again. Then, we can hit him in the head. Ready?” She watches, gripping her branch until his back is turned. “Now.”

  The girls sprint across the remaining fifty yards of open ground, crouching down behind stacked crates just before the guard turns. They can hear his footfall. Erryn counts out the steps. The girls tense, getting ready to bolt. She hears him turn. “Now!”

  They spring into action and dash for the guard. The sound of their hustle causes the guard to turn too soon. Erryn, seeing the danger, continues stepping onto the crate and leaps into charge with the branch held above her head. His attention becomes split while Jet rounds the right side of the crates. But then, he chances a reach for his sword’s handle. Erryn’s branch is brought down hard on his head. He collapses unconscious.

  “I think you killed him.” Jet goes to check his body, salvaging a large knife.

  “We don’t have time for this. We have to get out of here,” Erryn says, dragging Jet away as she pockets the knife in her sock. “Let’s get his keys
and get this gate open.”

  Jet hands her a ring of iron keys as Erryn inspects it to find one that’s brittle, covered in rust. Singling out the key Erryn’s ears catch the heavy foot march of a few coming this way. She quickly searches and jams it into a keyhole, unlocking the metal black bar locked across the gate. The rust crumbles off it and refuses to turn until Jet grips over her hand to help turn as it moves. They look at each other with hope and continue to turn together, but the handle breaks and she drops the key ring.

  Marching stops as the castle door to the back gate opens. Both girls look around for their next move. Then the rushing of flowing water reaches Erryn as she doesn’t question her senses gripping her sister’s arm. “This way.”

  They continue as they come upon Wyvern Castle’s large stream which carries water to the town of Dragonar. Jet jumps in first as they walk in a four-foot-deep stream to meet a steel-barred grate. Commotion begins to stir from behind as Erryn grips the bars in despair.

  “This can’t be it. I don’t want to go back. Why can’t something just give?” Erryn’s eyes swell while yanking on the bars. Jet tries to shush her as guards from the front gate come to investigate.

  “Whoa, wait. Wait a second, Erryn. Look.” Jet detaches her as she discovers the wiggly bars.

  “Is it enough?” Erryn’s eyes widen as Jet bites her lower lip, using her might to push the bar out.

  “Hey, stop right there!” shouts guards charging from the back gate. Erryn begins whacking Jet’s shoulder as she dislodges a bar.

  “There.”

  “It’s big enough. Go, go, go!” Erryn pushes her to hurry through their entry. Guards hurry into the water after them. Erryn pushes with her feet off the stable bars, catching up to Jet as a warm leather glove closes onto her ankle.

  “Jet!” water muffles her, as she’s being dragged under the water.

  Erryn wakes, gasping for air with watery eyes as she falls from a high tree branch. Although covered in sweat, dirt sticks to her hair as she sits herself up against the tree trunk. She gazes at her free ankle, growing tiresome of her plaguing night terrors from her escape with Jet. Regardless of day or night, they never seize to remind Erryn of her solitary. If only she knew of a way to see her sister. She stands with a stretch with cracks to her stiffened back, confirming she was nowhere near the Kingdom.