by Phil Maxey
DARK KINGDOM
Order of the Ring Book 2
by
Phil Maxey
Copyright © 2017 by Philip Maxey
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 publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
First Printing, 2017.
http://philmaxeyauthor.com/
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Table of Contents
Dark Kingdom
About the Author
Acknowledgements
CHAPTER 1
Justin hid against a cold damp wall listening to his own heartbeat. Around him was a cavernous chamber, split into multiple levels connected by small stone staircases. A few torches burned at various points providing just about enough light for shadows to be in every corner.
The stern man with swept back white hair told him, “there is something else in here with you, try not to die.” Before shoving him forward and closing the solid wooden door behind him.
Justin looked down at the flames reflecting off the blade of the only weapon he was allowed to bring with him, a dagger perhaps a foot long. On the wrist of his other hand was clamped a silver bracelet, something that the white-haired man and Miss Toper said he must keep on at all times if he is to survive this stage of his training.
He understood the importance of being prepared, but this seemed a bit extreme. Just a week earlier his future consisted of doing a degree at Oxford, some late-night parties and maybe he might even meet a girl that liked him. Now he was in a dungeon under the streets of London with, what? A monster? A . . .
The sound of something scraping across the stone slabs crept through the air.
He wanted to duck down, but equally wasn’t sure moving was a good idea so instead he just froze as the sound continued.
They wouldn’t allow anything to hurt me, would . . .
The scraping stopped, as did his breathing as he listened in the darkness.
Can’t stay here. Do I take dark foul smelling but well-lit corridor on my left, or the dark, dank, completely lacking in light corridor on my right? which is also where I think the sound is coming from?
He crept forward moving left, his head darting from side to side and then back from where he came. Cobwebs and moss clung against the stones which looked like they had been forgotten down here for centuries.
What was that?
A barely audible crunching noise came from ahead of him.
Shit.
The heat from the nearby burning torch warmed his face. He reached up slowly while looking into the shadows in front of him, and pulled it from its mantle on the wall. Holding it outwards he walked forward. The orange-red light pushed the shadows back as he went, until only a wall looked back at him.
Dead end? But there was a . . .
He ducked just in time for the metal spiked ball of the flail to slice through the musty air and smash into the wall next to him, sending sparks and chips of stone flying.
He swung the torch around to illuminate a scene his brain did not want to accept. Standing seven feet tall, barely short of the roof, stood what could only be described as a troll. Its leather and plated armour looked worn, and covered a green skin which was covered in welts and sores. Its head was mostly covered in a helmet, but a lower jaw that belonged in the pages of an epic fantasy tale jutted out.
As Justin was taking this all in, the creature’s mouth opened revealing a number of missing teeth and it roared, blasting him with its foul-smelling breath. It then pulled its muscular arm back preparing for another lunge.
Move!
He scrambled backwards as the mace and chain came down once again, this time hitting the ground where he was just sitting. He quickly glanced at the dagger and frowned, then climbed to his feet as the towering man-thing lumbered towards him.
He thrust the flames from the torch out in front, halting the creature’s momentum. It grunted and waved the flail through the air and through the flames, causing Justin to stagger backwards, this time though his back came up against the barrier to stop any further movement in that direction.
The creature moved closer, pulling its weapon back behind itself for one final attack.
Justin looked up at the leviathan, and couldn’t understand what purpose it would serve for him to die in this hellhole under the sanctuary, but as the masonry-breaking lump of spiked metal flew towards his head he supposed he had failed whatever test this was. Then all went black.
He looked up at the white-haired man and Sparrow while lying on the cold ground.
Sparrow knelt awkwardly next to him. “Are you OK?”
“What . . .” Justin noticed the silver bracelet that was once on his left wrist, was now being held by the man, who was also holding the burning torch.
He held up the bracelet. “One of Bartholomew’s prized possessions,” said Gus. “It’s been used for eons by sanctuaries to test new recruits.”
Justin blinked, not quite understanding.
“It makes you see your fears,” said Sparrow. “But it was all just in your head, whatever you saw wasn’t real.”
“Oh right, yeah. I knew that,” said Justin getting to his feet and reaching out for the wall for stability.
Gus looked at Sparrow. “You got him? I need to see how the other one’s doing.”
She nodded.
* * * * *
“Try and concentrate!” shouted Miss Toper.
The sweat poured down Kat’s face as the one-thousand-pound stone column hovered a few feet above the ground. She and the older woman were standing in a large ancient room hundreds of feet below the London sanctuary. A domed roof arched twenty feet above their heads and all around were pillars and walls with ornate symbols carved into them.
“I am!” shouted Kat, her hand held out in front of her, wavering.
“Try and shift it a few feet and put it back down.”
In Kat’s mind what was ten feet from her wasn’t an old lump of stone but a large empty box, as light as could be. At least that’s what Miss Toper told her to picture in her mind, but the actual thing itself kept jumping back in.
Her heart felt like it was beating faster than it should, and every part of her felt like it was straining beyond its breaking point as the column started to slide to the left, wobbling as it went.
“I can’t hold it, it’s too much . . .”
“Young lady, it’s just a light box . . .”
“I can’t . . .”
The column started to shake and wobble with increasing violence.
“Just a few more inches!”
Cracks started to appear in the column as someone started moving forward from the back of the room.
“No, it’s . . .”
The column exploded. Kat’s eyes grew wide as she saw rock fragments flying towards her. Gus sprang forward with the grace of a man half his age and slammed down a large shield in front of them both. Pieces of solid granite impacted the metal barrier and pinged off in other directions. The air filled with dust.
“You OK?” said Gus to Kat.
She nodded. “At least we know I can blow things up.”
Gus smiled, getting to his feet, and helped her do the same.
Miss Toper stepped forward into the centre of the circular room and inspected what remained of the heavy item. “Hmm, I was hoping you would be able to handle this at this stage, but maybe we are
pushing you too hard.”
Kat stood next to her. “I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time.”
“How’s the other one doing?” said Miss Toper to Gus, who shook his head. She sighed. “OK, let’s take a break.”
CHAPTER 2
Darren looked up from the luxurious sheets he was mostly under at the four posts of the bed he was in, and the wooden boards that formed the roof above his head. The air on his face felt cool making him even more reluctant to leave the bed.
Most of the previous few days were a blur of pain and dreams he would rather forget, and now he had a thirst the like of which he hadn’t felt before.
Looking around he discovered a small metal tray on a bedside table, with a jug and an already full glass. Not caring what the liquid was he grabbed the glass and gulped it down. The cool water did something to help ground him in reality, but the mid-Victorian era furnishings around him were having the opposite effect.
Placing the glass back down, he pulled the heavy silk sheet back and swung his legs around to the thick white rug which sat just where it needed to be. Light seeped through the dark-red curtains, but he wasn’t sure whether it was morning or afternoon.
Chip raised his head from his own sleep and looked at the man on the bed. His tail started to wag.
Darren smiled. “Hey boy, how you been!”
The dog got up and trotted over, Darren patted his back.
He then realised he hadn’t checked his phone for at least three days. Panic began to well up inside him, but then was replaced with pride for being off the ‘grid’ for longer than he had ever been. Still, he needed to log back in with his hacker group Gyrus to see what was happening in the world. He trusted them far more than any ‘official’ news source.
Standing, he looked around. He couldn’t see his phone so instead he walked to the curtains, pulling his underwear from places it shouldn’t be and dragged the heavy curtains back slightly. The light streamed into the musty room making him squint, but quickly his sight revealed a whiteout. When they arrived he could make out vehicles and the buildings in the street around them, but now everything was covered in frost and snow hiding what lay beneath. Two-foot icicles hung from roofs and window ledges including the one he was looking out of, and still the large flakes fluttered innocently down.
A noise came from outside his door and he realised how undressed he was. Skipping back to the bed, he clambered into it as a knock came from the four panelled door.
“You awake? Or er . . . decent?” said Kat.
“Yup.”
The door opened and the young woman appeared wearing a somewhat different kind of clothing that he was used to seeing her wear. Her usually dark hair was also covered in a smattering of white dust.
“You look like you been doing painting and decorating, dressed as an elven warrior.”
She produced a strained smile and looked about herself. “They said it would help me get used to being in the Order, don’t worry I intend to be back in my jeans and T as soon as I can reclaim them from their washers.”
She sat on the side of the bed.
He looked around the room. “I was wondering where my own clothes have gone.”
“Same as mine. How do you feel?”
He took a moment before he responded. “I feel . . . OK.”
“Good. Eve with some help from Bartholomew have been helping your recovery. Do you remember anything of the past few days?”
“Not much. Well there’s fragments of dreams, which I would rather not talk about,” he swallowed before continuing. “I’ll have to thank them before leaving.”
Kat looked down, then back up. “About that, things have gotten a lot worse outside.”
“Yeah the weather still looks shite.”
“Most of Western Europe has ground to a halt, although the UK seems to have been hit the worst. Almost three-thousand people have died, at least that’s the official numbers, Miss Toper says it will be a lot more as the authorities won’t be reporting anything too unusual. The army control the airports and most transport hubs to keep food and essential things being delivered. But that’s not all . . .”
“OK . . .”
“Strange beings are starting to be seen by the nescients. People are reporting creatures they can’t explain. The authorities are calling it ‘snow psychosis’, but that excuse is only going to last so long. It’s almost as if whoever is doing all this doesn’t care if the truth comes out.”
“So there’s no way for me to get back to my home?”
“Where’s your home?”
“I have a flat not too far from here actually, in Southwark.”
Kat raised her eyebrows. “Hacking must have paid well.”
He nodded knowingly. “Actually it belonged to my mum, she left it to me when she died. It’s an ex-council flat.”
“Do you need to get back there? As it’s probably better to stay here.”
“Well Ernie will need feeding.”
Kat looked at him bemused.
“It’s my goldfish, I left him plenty of fish food, but he’s probably low now.”
Kat sighed. “A goldfish? Darren, it looks like the world is ending outside these windows, and we have to be ready for what is out there.”
He looked guilty.
She stood up. “You got any pictures of your flat?”
He shook his head.
“Teleporting is out then.” She looked pensive. “Miss Toper said there are tunnels under London, maybe there’s a route to where you live.”
Now it was Darren’s turn to look confused.
“I’ve learned a lot while you’ve been sleeping.”
CHAPTER 3
“This is preposterous!” Miss Toper walked around in a small circle in the living room which looked like a Victorian period recreation.
“You said you would show me the tunnels under London at some point, well now’s a chance to do that,” said Kat sitting on a nearby table, her feet dangling.
“Young lady, do you see what is happening outside? The country is slowly descending into a new ice age, almost certainly due to dark magic. We don’t know who is left of the order outside and you want to go to this nescient’s—or whatever he is—home, for a goldfish?”
“Yup. Gus said he will go with us and show us the ancient portal.” Kat looked at the older smartly-dressed man who was standing near the roaring fire. “You said it’s not far to London bridge from here. Maybe thirty minutes’ walk?”
Gus turned around. “It’s not far.”
Miss Toper frowned.
“It would be a chance to check out the old places, Hillary, and investigate the area.”
“Fine! But don’t dilly-dally, who knows what is now lurking in the labyrinth. If the others get their hands on you or you.” She looked at Kat.
“If I get into a sticky situation I’ll teleport us away or something . . . the labyrinth?”
“It’s what the area under the city is called,” said Gus.
A tall door opened with a burst of noise. A young woman with the appearance of a librarian stood in the doorway with a piece of paper in her hand as others walked left and right behind her. “Ma’am we have re-established contact with the Rochester sanctuary.”
Before anyone could reply Gus rushed past the woman, who stood still, not sure whether to leave or stay.
“Well, go with him,” said Miss Toper.
The woman left and closed the door.
Kat jumped down from the table. “Darren wants his clothes back.”
“Ask the new foreman, I forget his name . . . Jeremiah maybe, you’ll find him around.”
“Do you have any better idea of what Darren is?”
“Eve tried an ancestral spell on him, it looks like he’s from one of the nine houses, but we can’t be sure which.”
“Oh . . .”
“Yes, it can’t be coincidence that you two discovered each other. This is usually how it happens with the order. Anyway, I want you to take ano
ther fighter with you, there’s plenty to choose from outside.”
Kat detected a slight frustration in her words. “OK.” She smiled and went to leave.
“Kat . . . we will find your mother, it’s just right now—and do not take this the wrong way—there are larger issues which we need to address. I hope you understand.”
Kat looked back with a forlorn smile. “I know.” She left.
A short while later on one of the upper floors Darren looked wide-eyed at the hive of activity on the landing around him. “Umm . . .”
What looked like knights, wizards, witches, and some that he wasn’t sure were one hundred percent human brushed past him. He was back in his nescient clothes, and until he stepped outside his room was feeling better because of it. Now though, he was definitely underdressed. Kat had briefly delivered his trousers and shirt to his room, along with breakfast and the message that they were going to try to make it back to his flat. That news alone had made the day twenty percent better.
“Er, excuse me? Can you . . .”
An over six-foot-tall bearded man who he was sure was a Viking grunted at him and kept on walking.
A woman with pointed ears wearing black leather, walked towards him. “Hi, can you . . .”
She smiled revealing a greater number of sharp teeth than he was used to seeing in a person’s mouth.
“I think I’ll just move down these stairs, thank you!” he said shuffling to the side, while she watched him with hungry eyes.
He stood at the top of the wide steps and looked down to the next landing, it was just as busy as the one he was on. He then looked over the banister, down four flights to the lobby at the bottom. Spiked helmets, shadowy figures in hoods and people that were wearing almost the same clothes as he, drifted in all directions.
“You ready?” said Kat walking up the stairs towards him.
