by Kay L. Ling
“I’ll need to divide my time between here and Strathweed,” Elias said as they entered a connecting passageway. “The gnomes aren’t capable of running things on their own yet, and I expect it will be a while before they are.”
“When things settle down, we want to explore the castle,” Jules said. We’re sure S has resources we can use, but it may not be easy to find them.”
“Resources?” Lana repeated. “Like what?”
“Weapons,” Jules said, “and caches of common but useful gems. S wouldn’t leave valuables lying about, but they’re here somewhere.”
Lana said, “The first place I’d check is S’s private chambers? Have you been there yet?”
Elias gave a grunt of annoyance. “Yes and the door is locked but there’s no keyhole, so I suspect she used a mirkstone lock.”
This world had hundreds of unique gems and minerals, and Lana couldn’t keep their names straight, much less their powers. For the most part, her gem studies had been limited to Fair Lands gems. “Mirkstone?” she asked. “What’s that?”
“It’s also known as “memory stone.” The gem retains verbal or mental commands,” Elias explained. “Without the correct command, the gem won’t release the lock.”
Lana smiled appreciatively. “A password gem. Fascinating!”
Jules said, “If Elias can’t guess the password, we may have to break down the door.”
“So where are we headed now?” she asked. It felt strange to walk unchallenged through the castle. She kept having flashbacks of her stay in the dungeon.
“The throne room,” Elias said. “Frankly, we haven’t been anxious to go there.”
Lana shivered. She felt the same way, and it was easy to understand Jules’s reluctance. He’d spent nearly a hundred years by the woodspirit’s side as an enchanted wolfhound.
They reached the throne room and stepped cautiously inside. Torches in iron brackets flickered from all four walls, and curling streams of smoke rose in the stagnant air.
“I had breghlin light the torches,” Elias said, “but no amount of light can chase away the gloom.”
Lana agreed. She felt small and insignificant as she looked up at the huge stone columns that supported the wooden ceiling beams. Their scrolled capitols, shaped like coiled serpents, looked disturbingly realistic. The ancient walls, made of massive stone blocks, had darkened from soot and grime.
Across the huge hall stood the familiar dais that held the woodspirit’s throne. Even though the throne was empty now, Lana’s mouth went dry.
For a moment no one moved and she fought an impulse to turn back. A brooding malevolence hung over the throne room, as if centuries of malice had seeped into the walls and could never be eradicated.
Elias murmured, “Let’s have a look around, shall we?” He started across the room and Lana followed reluctantly. She glanced at Jules. His expression was apprehensive.
As they approached the massive throne, her eyes passed over the hideous carvings that covered every inch of its surface: winged serpents, giant insects, and malformed birds and animals. The carvings represented living abominations created by S during her reign. Lana took a steadying breath. Jewels imbedded in the creatures’ eye sockets flickered in the torchlight, and she felt certain they were jewels with malevolent powers.
From behind the dais, stone gargoyles leered down at them. The group stopped at the dais steps, and Lana tried to dismiss her sense of foreboding.
“I’d like to take an axe to this thing,” Jules said, frowning at the grotesque throne.
Even Elias looked disturbed, as if the lingering taint of evil had infected him as well. He straightened his shoulders and mounted the dais.
“You’re not going to sit on that thing, are you?” Jules said in a tight voice.
“Certainly not,” Elias answered hastily. He looked up at the gargoyles. Their eyes, though sightless, seemed to be watching him. Quickly, he looked away. Rubbing his arms through the sleeves of his green robe as if suddenly chilled, he proceeded to inspect the throne. When he reached the back, he called out, “Here! What is this?” His tone was more curious than afraid.
Jules shot Lana a nervous glance and together they climbed the steps and joined Elias.
Behind the throne stood a broad column about three feet high made of translucent, black alamaria stones. On top rested a large, black book with gemstones set into its ornately-tooled leather cover.
Lana wiped damp palms on her jeans. “Is this what I think it is?”
“It must be S’s spell book,” Jules said.
“With centuries of gem knowledge inside,” Elias said in a tone of awe. He reached toward it.
Lana stiffened. “Is that a good idea?”
“What harm could it do?” Elias asked, but his voice held a note of doubt. His fingers traced the design worked into the leather, and then he slowly lifted the cover.
The first two pages showed grotesque creatures—like the ones carved on the throne. The next two pages were blank—at first.
And then words began to form.
Ommort Mirkstone
Elias stepped back, his face suddenly pale.
“We know what a mirkstone is,” Jules said. “But what does ommort mean?”
In a tone barely above a whisper Elias said, “Ommort is a rare variety of mirkstone.” He wet his lips. “I call it ‘deadman’s switch.’ Specific actions within a warded area trigger commands stored in the gem. In this case, opening the book was the trigger.”
Lana froze as the pages began to turn, faster and faster. The motion finally stopped, and the book lay open at the last two pages which showed ornate weapons and jewelry set with gems. Were these treasures hidden somewhere within the castle?
In a low, menacing tone the book said, “You are not Sheamathan. Ommort Mirkstone activated.”
Acknowledgements
My sister, Marie Clapsaddle, my biggest fan, provided invaluable feedback and spent more hours reading and editing this book than either of us can count. Thanks!
Lowell Ling, my wonderful husband, provided daily motivation by asking, “Do you have another chapter yet?”
Dennis Morris, owner of Geyser Gem and Jewelry, in Victor, N.Y. answered many questions about gems and inspired in me a deeper love for colored gemstones.
I’d like to acknowledge the “noblebright” trend, which is the opposite of “grimdark.” Reading tastes differ, and one style of book isn’t inherently better than the other, but for those of you who enjoy main characters who have heroic hearts, this book is for you.
A Note from the Author
Thank you so much for reading Beyond the Forest! If you enjoyed it, I hope you will spread the word by posting an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads. You don’t need to write anything lengthy or profound. Even a simple statement like, “I enjoyed this book and I think you will too,” will encourage readers to pick up Beyond the Forest. Lana, Jules, and Elias thank you in advance, and the gnomes and breghlin do, too!
About the Author
Kay L. Ling began writing fiction at an early age. In grade school, her stories evidenced a sense of wonder and love of adventure. In one, mythical creatures lived and traveled inside a rainbow, and in another, a bored sixth-grader turned her teacher into a maroon sofa and then teleported herself to London. As she grew up, Kay never lost her ability to imagine strange and wondrous peoples and places, and now she would like to share her unique fantasy adventures with others.
Visit Kay online:
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