by Kay L. Ling
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Synopsis
Dedication
Newsletter Opt-in
Blank Page
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
Sneak Peek
Acknowledgements
Author's Note
About the Author
Afterword
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2017, Kay L. Ling
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It took teamwork and a clever plan to defeat the gnomes' gem master queen. And now, Lana and her allies face more dangers. Shadow is an ecological disaster. Monsters roam the land. And when Lana and her companions search the castle, they learn Sheamathan has a sentient spell book—with a bad attitude and instructions for revenge.
Imprisoned and bitter over her defeat, Sheamathan eagerly awaits the coming disasters that will punish her enemies, both human and gnome. She believes that even if they survive, there's little chance the gnomes will discover their history, or learn the secrets she's kept for generations.
But the spell book will surprise them all, changing everything.
To my husband, Lowell Ling, who provides valuable feedback and allows me to monopolize the computer.
Join us online to find out about the exciting sequel to Shadowglade!
Runes and Relics
by Kay L. Ling
Visit us at
www.kaylling.com/newsletter.html
for more about gemstones and Lana’s upcoming adventures.
Chapter 1
Waking to discover you’re a giant beetle could ruin anyone’s day.
The imprisoned beetle, Sheamathan, circled in her cage, feelers flicking with impotent fury. Lana watched with a satisfied smile. The cage was an artistic masterpiece, but the former Queen of Shadow didn’t seem to care. Gems of various colors twinkled from within the iron scrollwork, and the iron itself, infused with minutely ground Fair Lands gems, sparkled with subtly shifting colors. The four-foot-square cage was a generous size, but too small for the despicable beetle to retreat from curious eyes.
When Sheamathan stopped circling and turned toward her, Lana fought an irrational impulse to back away. Sure, the beetle couldn’t hurt her, but Lana had never liked bugs, and this one was the size of a small cat. Hatred seemed to gleam from Sheamathan’s compound eyes. Two long, curving feelers extended from the beetle’s broad, flat head. Just beneath, there was a small metal circlet that was once her restraining collar. Her wings folded back over an elongated rear segment, and spiky hairs covered all six legs. Lana grimaced. A hideous being deserved a hideous body.
In the dimly lit library, the cage seemed to sprout from the table since both were black.
Lana had suggested keeping the cage in the library. Sheamathan’s fortress-like castle, Shadowglade, had no cheerful rooms or pleasant alcoves, but the library was tolerable. Granted, the furniture was creepy—leather stretched over frames made of animal bones. Seriously, who but Sheamathan would find that attractive? But the rest of the room wasn’t bad. Not that anyone cared about the beetle’s comfort, but others had to look after her, and they deserved pleasant surroundings.
Floor-to-ceiling bookcases held several hundred leather-bound books, piles of scrolls and sketches, assorted curios, and small showcases filled with gems. Maps and tapestries hung on one wall. Everything looked ancient and probably was.
Lana stepped closer to the cage. “Your library has a lot of reading material. I’d bring you a pair of reading glasses, but they don’t make them for compound eyes.”
The beetle made a strangled noise. “Laugh now while you can. You will be sorry you did this to me.”
Not likely. She deserved worse. The thought of killing her had been tempting, but this was a more fitting punishment. “You turned Greg and Jordy into giant rats and Franklin into a bird. Now you know how it feels. I don’t know how many years you’ll live in your new body, but I hope it’s a very long time.”
“Change me back. Your misguided ambitions will destroy you.”
No matter how many dangers they faced, or how many things went wrong in the days ahead, they would never turn Sheamathan back into her woodspirit form. She had resembled a human woman with unnaturally pale skin, and her flesh had plantlike properties. Her ability to command gem powers, especially dark powers, had devastated this world and its inhabitants, but those powers were gone now that she was a beetle. “We’ll take our chances,” Lana said.
The beetle waved her feelers. “The breghlin will avenge me.”
“You’re kidding, right? They’re glad to be rid of you!” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Despite Sheamathan’s cruelty, some of her former servants remained loyal to her.
“Liar!” Sheamathan rustled her wings angrily. “The breghlin fear and revere me.”
Lana gave a derisive snort. “You got the first half right—they feared you.”
The beetle moved to the opposite side of the cage as if trying to escape the unpleasant truth of her reign. “If the gnomes are foolish enough to come out of hiding, the breghlin will kill them. Gnomes are weak, defenseless creatures. Your revolution will end in bloodshed, and the gnomes will never be free.”
“We’ll see,” Lana said and left it at that, refusing to be drawn into an argument. It wouldn’t be easy to create a functioning gnome society; she was well aware of that. The gnomes had spent generations enslaved or in hiding, but they were capable of ruling themselves, and properly armed, they should be able to hold their own against the breghlin.
Footsteps echoed down the passageway and a familiar masculine voice called, “Lana, are you here?”
“In the library,” she called back, running a hand over her chestnut waves and hoping she looked presentable in faded jeans. She’d purposely worn a green sweater to compliment her eyes.
Jules strode through the door. What had he been doing? Cobwebs clung to his tousled, light brown hair, and his face was dirty. His tan shirt and brown pants were positively grimy.
Great-great grandfather Elias walked in behind him, wearing his usual green robe, and it was filthy along the hem. Cobwebs clung to his untidy, shoulder-length gray hair. Under the best of conditions, Elias wasn’t much to look at. After all, he was 170 years old and had warty, toad-like skin, a nearly lipless mouth, and a broad, flat nose. The gem master’s best feature was his intensely green eyes, the same shade as her own. It wasn’t nice to say, but with a face like that, dirt and
cobwebs were the least of his worries.
“Looks like you’ve been cleaning the dungeon,” Lana said, laughing.
Jules dusted off his clothes. “Good guess. We just came from there, but we weren’t cleaning.”
“No, we were dealing with prisoners,” Elias said. “The most troublesome breghlin are behind bars now.” He looked pleased with himself. “So far, we have thirty.”
“Where did the rest go?” she asked.
“Back to their clans, I suppose.” His tone suggested he was glad to be rid of them and didn’t care where they’d gone.
“They have clans nearby?”
“Yes, within a day’s walk.”
“They won’t make trouble? The ones who left?” she asked, finding that hard to believe.
“Impossible to say,” Elias replied with a shrug. “They’re still in shock, trying to grasp the fact that we defeated their queen and turned her into a beetle.”
“It took the fight out of most of them,” Jules said.
“Even so, we’re taking every precaution,” Elias assured her. “Armed gnomes are stationed throughout the castle, particularly in the dungeon.”
“I can’t get over it—gnomes guarding breghlin,” Lana said, shaking her head. “That’s certainly a role reversal.”
Casting a meaningful glance at the cage, Elias said, “Perhaps we should speak elsewhere.”
“Good idea.” Although Sheamathan, now known simply as S, was harmless in beetle form, the less she overheard the better, if for no other reason than it infuriated her not to know what was going on. With one last glance at the cage, Lana followed Jules and Elias out of the library.
Torches in brackets cast flickering shadows on the stone passageway’s soot-stained walls, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling in eerie festoons. The stagnant air smelled like smoke and mildew. S had enjoyed Shadowglade’s dreariness, and maybe the breghlin had too, but Lana found it depressing. It was doubtful any amount of cleaning and redecorating could make this place cheerful.
Once out of earshot of the library, Jules said to Lana, “We freed more gnomes.”
“From the mining camp?”
He nodded. “Yes, and from the dungeon too.”
“The dungeon? I thought you released everyone last week.”
“We couldn’t,” he said. “Some had medical needs that couldn’t be treated with gem powers alone. The infirmary was full, and the dungeon was the safest place for them until they were strong enough to go home.”
“Sounds like you had a busy week. I wish I could help more, but I’ve already taken off too many days from work.” There was a limit to how often she could be away now that she was taking on more responsibilities.
“When are you taking over the jewelry store?” Jules asked.
“Not for a few weeks. But I’m spending more time there, handling some of the management duties before the transition.”
“That’s understandable. Just come when you can,” Jules said. “How did you get here tonight? Did Raenihel bring you?”
“Yes, he brought me through the portal, and Artham was waiting with a cart. I couldn’t believe it—he had a breghlin driver! A female, but still!”
Jules smiled at her look of amazement. “We’re keeping a few breghlin staff. The gnomes aren’t happy about it, but they don’t complain in front of us. We’ll fill you in later.”
Not happy about it. That had to be an understatement. The breghlin, a savage variant of the gnome race, had helped S capture and enslave the gnomes. “S says the gnomes are weak and they’ll never stand up to the breghlin. I hope she’s wrong. Gnomes have the upperhand now, and they’d better hang onto it.”
“How do you like S’s cage?” Jules asked.
She wondered if he had changed the subject to avoid discussing the gnomes. “It turned out great. When did you finish it?”
“Yesterday. S spent the night in the dungeon. We moved her upstairs today.”
“A simple iron cage would have held her,” Elias said, “but infusing the metal with Fair Lands gems adds another layer of protection. If she or the breghlin touch the scrollwork, the gems in the metal will burn them.”
“What about the floor? Is that metal too?”
“Yes, but it’s covered with a special type of wood. She’ll feel an unpleasant sensation but the gems won’t actually burn her,” Jules answered.
Distant voices echoed down the passageway. Lana tilted her head, listening. Probably guards making their rounds. It hadn’t been easy to talk gnomes into working here. Shadowglade represented everything they feared and hated.
“Even if this regime change goes relatively smoothly, we’ll still have some serious challenges,” Lana said. “The spreading blight in my world has ended, but it will be years before the forest fully recovers, and the damage here is a thousand times worse.”
“Reversing generations of destruction will take a long time,” Jules agreed. “Maybe gem powers can speed the healing, but we don’t know what gems we need or how to go about it.”
“I have other priorities right now,” Elias said. “Rats, birds, and lizards have been coming to my cave at Strathweed, hoping I can change them back into gnomes.”
“I’m glad you can help them.” Too many had been eaten by Sheamathan’s abominations. The thought made Lana sick.
“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 thoroughly,” Jules said, his eyes lighting at the prospect. “S has valuables, but it may not be easy to find them. There must be books about gems, historic artifacts, weapons, artwork, information about mines, and lots of common but useful gems.”
Lana frowned, considering. “The first place I’d check is her private chambers. Have you been there yet?”
Elias gave a grunt of annoyance. “Yes. The door is locked, but there’s no keyhole, so I suspect it has 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 gems from her world—the Fair Lands. “Mirkstone? What’s that?”
“It’s also known as “memory stone.” It’s a gem that retain a verbal or mental command,” Elias explained. “Without the correct command, the gem won’t release the lock.”
Lana smiled appreciatively. “A password gem. Fascinating!”
Jules didn’t share her enthusiasm. “If Elias can’t guess the password, we may have to break down the door.”
“So where are we headed now?” 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.
No one spoke the rest of the way. When they reached the throne room, Elias hesitated as if having second thoughts, and then cautiously stepped inside.
Torches in iron brackets flickered from all four walls, and curling streams of smoke rose in the stagnant air.
“I asked breghlin to light the torches,” Elias said, “but no amount of light can chase away the gloom.”
Lana knew what he meant. 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, were dark with soot and grime.
Across the huge hall, she saw the familiar dais that held the woodspirit’s throne. Even though the throne was empty now, Lana’s mouth went dry, and she fought an impulse to turn back. A brooding malevolence hung ov
er the throne room, as if centuries of malice had seeped into the walls.
Elias murmured, “Let’s have a look around, shall we?” He started across the room and Lana followed reluctantly.
As they approached the massive throne, her eyes passed nervously over the hideous carvings that covered every inch of its surface: winged serpents, giant insects, and malformed birds and animals. The carvings represented creatures S had created during her reign. Lana took a steadying breath. Jewels embedded in carved 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 throne,” Jules said quietly.
Even Elias looked disturbed, as if the lingering taint of evil had infected him as well. He straightened his shoulders and mounted the dais.
Jules stiffened. “You’re not going to sit on that thing, are you?”
“Certainly not,” Elias answered hastily. He looked up at the gargoyles. Their eyes, though sightless, seemed to be watching the group. Rubbing his arms through the sleeves of his robe as if suddenly chilled, he looked away and went to inspect the throne. When he reached the back, he called, “Here! What is this?” His tone was more curious than afraid.
What had he found? Lana wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Jules shot her a nervous glance and they hurried up the steps.
Behind the throne stood a broad column about three feet high made of translucent black alamaria stones. On top rested a large brown 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 the woodspirit’s spell book,” Jules said.
“With centuries of gem knowledge inside,” Elias said in a tone of awe. He reached toward it.
Lana felt a stab of fear. “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.
