Clark was gigantic. Literally so. His great grandmother had been a giant and Clark looked like a miniature mountain, not a thirteen-year-old boy. A full-blooded dwarf, Ben stood half a head shorter than Daphne, but was wide and stocky like a tree stump.
Clark and Ben had been best friends since they were babies, their mothers marveling at how well the two got along as they played in the sandbox. While Clark had an easygoing manner to match the slowness with which he normally moved, Ben was like a densely packed firework, its powder ready to explode with energy at any moment.
Alex clasped the handlebars of his bike again and coasted toward Clark and Ben on the bridge, Nina and Daphne on either side of him. As they approached the bridge, a small burst of flame and tiny fountain of water arose simultaneously out of the metal box resting between Clark and Ben.
“Ha!” Ben said with glee. “Water douses fire. I win.”
“Hmm, one more,” Clark said in a low, rumbling voice.
As Alex came to a stop, he watched Clark and Ben counting off to three silently at the same time with their fingers. Then they both spoke a rune-word spell simultaneously and there was another burst of flame as a plume of dirt erupted from the box.
“Yes!” Ben said, bouncing up and down with excitement. “I win again!”
“Mmm, no,” Clarke said with a frown. “Fire scorches earth.”
“No,” Ben said, frowning back at Clark. “Earth covers fire.”
“Ahh, I don’t think you remember the rules very well,” Clark said.
“Lex,” Ben said, turning to Alex for the first time. “Tell him. Fire scorches earth, right?”
“Depends on the rules,” Alex said to his two friends. They were playing Elements and, now that he was closer, he could clearly see the small metal box divided into four equal segments: one containing a tiny burning fire, two containing small samples of water and earth, while the final segment was empty. It was a game that many kids in Runewood played to pass the time.
“Rules,” Ben said, his voice rumbling nearly as low as Clark’s. “You don’t need rules to tell you that earth puts out fire. If you’re going camping and you need to put out a fire, what do you do? You kick dirt over it. Earth covers fire. Simple.”
“As much as I hate to agree with him,” Daphne said, “Ben has a point.”
“Well, sure,” Clark said, “but you make glass by blasting sand with fire.”
“That does sound reasonable,” Alex said.
“Sand!” Ben said, blinking rapidly as he craned his neck back to stare up at Clark. “It’s dirt, not sand.”
“Ah, but you see, I didn’t have any dirt,” Clark said with a wide grin. “So I filled the box with sand from the riverbank.”
“No dirt?” Ben said. “There’s dirt everywhere. It’s a farm town. Look under your fingernails!”
“I think Clark is right,” Nina said cocking her head thoughtfully. “If it had been dirt in the box, then Ben would be right, but since it was sand, that seems to change the rules and, since the first rule of Elements is that there are no real rules, then Clark’s rule about sand and fire seems to apply.”
Alex laughed at his sister, admiring her rambling logic while Ben stared at her open-mouthed.
“That,” Ben said, “doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“Rules don’t have to make sense,” Daphne said.
“Yeah,” Nina added as she poked Alex in the ribs. “Like rules about how old people have to be to join certain clubs.”
“It’s not a club,” Alex said, rubbing his ribs. “It’s a Guild.”
“Rules,” Ben said, hopping down from the bridge. “I don’t understand how I’m ever supposed to win if no one can explain the rules.”
“Hmm, I guess you’ll have to rely on luck,” Clark said with a smile as he blew out the small flame and packed up the Elements box.
“We’ll need some gorping luck where we’re going,” Daphne said.
“We don’t need luck,” Alex said, trying to sound like he meant it. “We have skill and planning.”
“Right,” Ben said, “Which will be useless if the dragon changes the rules.”
“Speaking of things changing,” Alex said, trying to change the subject. “Where’s Rafa?”
“Hmm, he said his aunt had some chores for him to finish on the farm,” Clark said.
“Mountains,” Ben said. “Rafa’s going to meet us at the base of the mountains.”
“Then what in the name of Erebos’ earwax are we waiting for?” Daphne said as she kicked off and began to pedal over the bridge. Alex and the others pedaled after her, Ben on a bike that was as small as Daphne’s while Clark rode a colossal contraption that looked as though its frame had been reinforced with steel girders.
They road along the Ravenstone Bridge across the Azure River and continued along North Street, which soon became the dirt-packed North Road that led through the farms and fields north of town. They rode for some time, the early spring sun warming their backs. Clark and Ben bickered about the rules of Elements, Daphne came up with ever more inventive curses for the horseflies that swarmed around them while they rode beneath the shade of the intermittent trees along the road, and Nina held a running conversation with herself that alternated between naming all of the animals they passed and listing, for anyone to hear, all the reasons that the age limit for membership to the Young Sorcerers Guild should be lowered, if only just once, to make room for an exceptionally talented young mage who looked remarkably like herself.
Alex, on the other hand, said little. He was thinking about where they were headed and what they were about to do. He was as nervous as the others, but while their anxious energy was expressed in talkativeness, his came in the form of contemplation. He looked over his shoulder across the fields and town to the Crimson Forest and the Copper Blood Mountains at the southern edge of the Rune Valley. Like most of its inhabitants, Alex had never been outside the valley and probably never would be. There was no magic outside the valley.
The power of magic — the energy that made magic possible — came from the land, from the earth itself. Thousands and thousands of years ago, during the War of the Shadow, the magic had been burnt out of most of the land upon the earth. Only a few pockets of magical energy remained. Normally, the Earth would have replenished the depleted magical energy, but the war had so scarred the land that, in most places, magical energy would never again arise. The Rune Valley, and a handful of other secluded places around the globe, escaped the magical blight. Because it was one of the few places where the land still radiated magical energy, it drew to it magical people and magical creatures. People like Alex’s Iroquois ancestors a hundred generations ago. People like Ben and Clark and Daphne’s families. And even more magical people, as well.
Alex’s daydreaming was interrupted by another curse from Daphne.
“Great Gorgon Goobers!”
Alex followed Daphne’s gaze and blinked in surprise. A kangaroo hopped at a furious pace across the open field of wild grass to the right of the road. The kangaroo was on a direct course to intersect with Alex and the others at the base of the mountains where the North Road came to an end. As Alex looked at the kangaroo, it raised a furry paw and waved at him. Then it ducked its head down and doubled its speed, its great legs stretching longer with each hop.
“A race!” Alex heard Daphne shout as she spurted ahead of the group. Alex and the others pumped harder to catch up, but Daphne was already too far in the lead. In seconds, the kangaroo’s path had converged with theirs and it hopped through the field parallel to the road. The strange animal raced neck and neck with Daphne as the road came closer and closer to where it dead-ended in a wall of mountain rock. Alex winced as Daphne brought her bike to a sliding halt inches before crashing into both the rocks at the base of the mountain and the kangaroo, which came to a sliding stop right beside her.
“Beat ‘cha,” Daphne said to the kangaroo between gulps of air as Alex and the others came to a stop around th
em.
The kangaroo cocked its head at Daphne and then did what Alex knew it would. It spoke.
“Nearly killed me, you mean,” the kangaroo said.
“Not my fault you can’t figure out how to stop with those giant feet,” Daphne said, grinning at the animal.
“I can fix my giant feet, but you’ll still be crazy no matter what you do,” the kangaroo said with what might have been a smirk.
“You say that like it’s a problem,” Daphne said, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.
“That’s the best one yet, Rafa,” Nina said, smiling up at the large marsupial.
“Thanks,” the kangaroo that wasn’t really a kangaroo said.
“Why a kangaroo?” Alex asked his friend.
“Hopping,” Ben said, laughing. “He loves hopping.”
“Loves showing off, you mean,” Daphne said, climbing off her bicycle.
“You are the definition of irony,” Rafael the kangaroo said, hopping sideways toward a small stand of bushes. “And to answer your question, Lex, kangaroos have pouches.” The kangaroo pulled a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt from its pouch and leapt behind the bushes.
After a momentary burst of red light, a young Hispanic boy with hazel brown eyes and high cheek bones popped his head over the edge of the bushes. The boy was Rafael Santiago, best friend to Daphne and Alex, the final member of the Young Sorcerers Guild to join the day’s mission, and a changeling, able magically to transform into any living creature. He was also an orphan of sorts, his non-magical parents having abandoned him in Runewood with his Aunt when he was five years old after they had discovered his magical ability. A changeling's magic was part of their nature, allowing them to transform even outside the Rune Valley. Rafael's parents had found they couldn't raise a child who could turn himself into a giant frog at will.
“Hmmm, a pouch,” Clark said nodding his head. “I wonder how many sandwiches he can fit in there?”
“Hungry?” Ben said. “How can you possibly be hungry again? You just ate twenty minutes ago.”
“Well, my mom says I’m a growing boy,” Clark said, pulling an apple from a nearby Macintosh tree.
“Growing mountain is more like it,” Rafael offered as he stepped from behind the bushes, now fully dressed and brushing leaves from his shirt. Alex smiled at his friend as he dismounted his bike and stashed it behind the bushes. Alex, Daphne, and Rafael had been the first members of the Guild. They had started calling themselves The Young Sorcerers Guild to contrast themselves with the Mad Mages Club, a group of troublemaking mages a year older. The Mad Mages Club wouldn’t accept members who weren’t full-fledged humans. That left Daphne and Rafael out of consideration. Ben and Clark had joined the Guild a few weeks after its creation and were an excellent fit.
“Ready for an adventure?” Alex asked Rafael as he stepped up to the other boy.
“Is that what we’re calling our suicide mission today?” Rafael asked.
“It’ll be fun,” Alex said.
“That’s what you always say,” Rafael countered.
“And I’m right most of the time,” Alex protested.
“Most of the time we nearly get killed,” Rafael said.
“That’s the fun part,” Alex said with a laugh that wasn’t as loud as he’d hoped it would be.
“When you two stop chatting like two old ladies at Sunday brunch, we’ve got a gorping mountain to climb,” Daphne said.
“And a dragon to find,” Nina added, stepping a little closer Alex.
“Easy,” Alex said. “Only one mountain. Only one dragon. How hard can it be?”
“Has anyone ever pointed out that your optimism has no bearing on reality?” Rafael asked Alex.
“Yes,” Alex said, “but I ignored them. Besides, we have Clark.”
“Right,” Ben said. “Find the dragon, Clark.”
“Ahh, okay,” Clark said, sniffing the air once and then heading toward a well-worn mountain path near where the North Road came to a dead end. Alex looked around at the others momentarily as he adjusted the knapsack on his shoulder and then gave them all a big grin. This is what the Young Sorcerers Guild had been created for: having adventures and practicing magic. And waking the dragon would be their biggest adventure yet. With that thought firmly in his mind, Alex followed Clark up the mountain path.
To continue reading:
The Dark Shadow of Spring (The Young Sorcerer’s Guild – Book 1)
The First Chapter of The Celestial Blade
Chapter One: The Crumbling Castle
Wyconna (Wi-KON-Ah): The name given to the human section of the starship Celestial Pilgrim by its inhabitants. The name comes from the oldest living tree on the Origin World. Wyconna is 10,000 km long, giving it a square area of 31,416,000 km, making it slightly larger than the Origin World continent of Africa.
The Traveler’s Guide to Wyconna, 23rd Edition
The clouds above the thin forest obscured the moon and stars beyond them, leaving just enough light to make out the castle on the hill. The moon was not real, nor were the stars. They were merely projections provided to comfort those creatures used to living under a moon and stars.
But the clouds were real. And far beneath the clouds, in the crook of the valley, stood Jeddu and Kylla, a light drizzle falling on their moonlit faces. Thin and tall for their thirteen years, Jed stood half a hand shorter than Kylla, his dark brown skin a mild contrast with her deep olive complexion in the bluish-white moonlight.
“It’s really here,” Kylla said, pushing her sandy hair from her chestnut eyes and wiping raindrops from her forehead.
Jed looked up at the crumbling castle on the hill above, wondering if the walls might fall down and crush them in an avalanche of stone. He never really believed the stories about the old castle. He had assumed they were tall tales told to lull small children to sleep. When he and Kylla had learned that this year’s school trip would be to the shores of Lake Kenno’Cha, near the rumored resting place of the ancient abandoned castle, they had spent weeks planning a midnight mission to explore the ruins.
“Let’s get up there before we lose the moonlight,” Jed said.
Kylla took one look up the hill and glanced sideways at Jed. “Race you.”
Jed and Kylla ran pell-mell up the hill, zigzagging between the wide slabs of granite and thin, wispy trees. As usual, Kylla took the lead before they were halfway up the hill. Kylla held the hem of her cotton dress high above her knees, her thin legs flashing in the moonlight. Jed tried to suck in more air to power his already tiring legs, but he knew it was hopeless.
Kylla loved to race. And she nearly always won. Jed was not the only boy she bested in contests of physical strength on a regular basis. He was merely the only one who didn’t resent her for it.
Unsurprisingly, Kylla reached the top of the hill first. Hands on her hips, she waited for Jed to catch up. Breathing heavily, Jed stopped beside her and bent down, placing his hands on the knees of his woolen trousers as he sucked in air.
“Couldn’t we…just…walk…someplace…for once?” Jed panted.
Already beginning to breathe normally, Kylla smiled at him. “Where would the fun be in that?”
“The fun,” Jed said, “would be in not feeling like I needed to puke.”
As he calmed his breathing, Jed took a moment to survey his surroundings. The castle wall curved gently, completely encircling the towers within. A singsong rhyme all the Kellish children sang telling the story of the castle came to Jed’s mind.
Once there was a castle made of stone,
Walls round and white as bone
But stones crumble and walls fall,
And bury treasures beneath them all.
Though white as bone, the wall of the castle was in no way complete. Sections of the wall had collapsed over the many years since its construction and now there were large gaps easily big enough for Jed and Kylla to climb through.
Jed motioned toward the nearest fissur
e in the wall and started walking.
“Let’s go.”
Kylla followed silently. The immensity of the adventure they were on finally began to sink into Jed’s thoughts. If the story about the ruined castle was true, the other stories might be true as well. Stories of magic swords and precious jewels. And a monster. He hadn’t forgotten the stories about the monster.
Jed stopped in front of the gaping hole in the wall and looked to Kylla to see if her competitive streak was still strong.
“Want to go first?” Jed asked.
“Only if you’re afraid to,” Kylla replied with a sweet smile across her face.
Jed frowned. He hated it when she outwitted him.
He climbed over the large stones of the fallen wall, careful to maintain his footing. Not wanting to seem anxious, he didn’t look back to see if Kylla followed him.
The pile of rubble sat a few meters high and it took only moments to climb down to the other side. At the bottom of the pile of stones, Jed found himself in a large courtyard, the three towers of the castle rising above him.
Each tower stood nearly fifty meters tall and sat equidistantly from the circular wall and from each other. A row of two-story buildings connected the towers to the wall, splitting the courtyard into three sections and leaving the space between the towers empty.
Or almost empty. A dark mass was barely visible at the very center of the courtyard. The castle towers seemed to drench the courtyard in shadows, lending an eerie atmosphere to the grounds the full moon above could do nothing to dispel. As Jed stared into the blackness between the towers, something brushed his shoulder.
Leaping back and sucking in a quick breath, he saw Kylla standing beside him.
“Jumpy?” she asked, grinning.
The Sword of Unmaking (The Wizard of Time - Book 2) Page 29
