by Gregory Heal
Sky Jewel Legacy
Heritage
Gregory Heal
Copyright © 2019 by Gregory Heal
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Acknowledgements
Sky Jewel Legacy
Prologue
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
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
About the Author
Acknowledgements
To my family. Thank you for your support and patiently listening to me ramble on about this book during so many family dinners.
To my friends who have read over parts of this book in its many different iterations. You’ve pushed me to become a better writer.
To my editor. I enjoyed our journey and I hope to embark on more with you.
To you, the reader. It makes me feel so special that you are reading a story that has taken over my imagination since 2017. I hope it captures your imagination too.
Sky Jewel Legacy
HERITAGE
Prologue
England
Almost 1,500 years ago
With her last ounce of effort, Genevieve Lancaster reached deep into her nexus, casting every spell she had learned, deploying every tactic she had used in past duels, and relying on every instinct that had kept her alive for the past ten years as a mystra, the highest mantle given to a sorcerer or sorceress.
She could tell her life force was weakening as the continuous attacks of dark magic rammed into her protection spell. Every other sorcerer lay dead or dying around her—she was the only one of her kind left on Earth.
How did this happen? Genevieve thought.
Under the bright light of a full moon, Genevieve sent out a beacon spell calling for reinforcements, but she knew they would not get there in time. Gale-force winds buffeted her body, threatening to break her concentration. Her cloak flapped straight behind her, tugging at her throat. Yet still she focused on weakening Lord Ferox, funneling all of her power through the rings that glistened on her fingers.
Lord Ferox . . . the most sinister of all dark sorcerers.
Gritting her teeth, Genevieve planted her feet more firmly on the charred grass and pushed harder than she had ever pushed before, sending out spells to attack Ferox from every side.
He’s just too strong!
The dark sorcerer was growing more powerful by the minute with the help of the combined powers of the five MystiCrystals and the ShadowCrystal, which were orbiting him like miniature moons. Her spells crashed into his own, ricocheting off with flashes of light that blinded Genevieve’s vision.
I have to do something!
From out of the corner of her eye, Genevieve caught a glimpse of her younger sister, Gwendolyn, lying on the ground not twenty feet from her. For a moment she feared the worst, but then she saw Gwendolyn’s chest rise and fall almost imperceptibly. They were shallow breaths, but thankfully she was still alive.
Gwendolyn awoke in that moment, as if she could sense her sister’s eyes on her, and their eyes met. From where she lay, she faintly smiled through the pain and took out a small, oval stone from her ruffled cloak which shimmered with the most iridescent of purples. Her sister had treasured that stone for as long as Genevieve could remember. She still recalled the fond childhood memory of the day they were playing in the Sherwood Forest and Gwendolyn stumbled upon that very stone in a cave. Since then, she had always carried it with her, calling it her “Halostone” because it had a large, natural ring of gold inlaid in its polished surface, reminding Gwendolyn of an angel’s halo. My Halostone, she’d said, and Genevieve could hear its proper title in her sister’s voice as she stared long and hard at her keepsake.
Lord Ferox’s voice brought Genevieve back to the present. Booming, he spewed, “How could you, of all people, expect to defeat me? I can feel your energy waning, Genevieve. No spell can hide that fact.”
Taking her eyes off her sister, Genevieve shot a loathsome look at the dark lord. He was trying to get under her skin, she knew, but he wasn’t lying: she only had a limited amount of time left before he would overtake her.
“Imagine what a fine apprentice young Philip would be . . . all of the things I could teach him . . .” He smirked, and all while his attacks bombarded her mercilessly.
Philip! Fear crept into her heart when she thought about what would happen to her infant son—Philip Lancaster II—if Ferox defeated her. Genevieve would do anything to keep him out of harm’s way, and that meant keeping him out of the reach of Ferox and his infectious dark magic.
With that final bolstering thought, she nodded at Gwendolyn while Ferox was cackling away. With all her strength, Gwendolyn tossed the Halostone; it soared in a graceful arc between Genevieve and Ferox. When the stone reached the perfect center of the dueling sorcerers, Genevieve stopped attacking with her left hand and, with tears in her eyes, focused on the stone.
Gwendolyn watched helplessly as a beam of blue light shot forth from her sister’s rings and hit her cherished Halostone. The whipping winds were so raucous that she couldn’t hear what Genevieve yelled as a blinding light exploded from the stone and quickly enveloped the two sorcerers.
With surprise in his bedeviled eyes, Ferox let out a blood-curdling yell that faded into oblivion.
Gwendolyn pulled her hand away from her eyes in time to see the MystiCrystals and the ShadowCrystal shoot off in every direction, propelled by the shockwave of her sister’s last spell. Turning her attention back to the aftermath, she found no sign of either Genevieve or Lord Ferox. The only items left on the eerily quiet, smoldering battlefield were the Halostone and Genevieve’s signet ring, the Ring of Lancaster, both now lying harmlessly on the scorched grass.
Whimpering with effort, Gwendolyn crawled to the center of the battlefield and, before fainting from exhaustion, hugged the Halostone and her brave sister’s ring to her chest.
For a brief moment, the full moon over England s
hone purple.
Chapter One
Upper West Side, Manhattan, New York
Present day
“Haaappy birrrthdayyy tooo youuu!”
The congregation of friends and family were slightly out of tune, but it was still heartwarming. They were all huddled around the kitchenette counter of a small studio apartment—just big enough for a college student who was attending New York University.
With happiness in her violet eyes and a big smile on her face, Jennifer Smith made a wish and blew out the twenty-one candles on her Danish layer cake. Once all the candles were extinguished, Jen leaned back into her chair while everyone clapped. She felt the ring on her necklace shift beneath her shirt, its metal cold against her collarbone.
Jen was considered attractive by many: a slender girl with wavy black hair. But her most striking feature was that of her enchanting eyes. Admiration seemed to come from everyone she met, and they would invariably comment on her eyes’ rare coloring—deep violet irises flecked with gold. Her parents affectionately called her Jenny Jasmine, after one of the most beautiful purple flowers in the world. She loved her parents more than anything; they were supportive, encouraging, and loving to both her and her twelve-year-old brother, Tyler.
This year, her birthday was shaping up to be the best one yet—everyone she cared about was able to attend, including her boyfriend, Alex. He had been such a great addition to her life; in the three months since they had met, Jen already knew that Alex was different than every other guy she’d dated in the past, to the point where, sometimes, Jen thought he was too good to be true. What’s more, her parents approved of him—which, according to their high standards, had seemed impossible.
Her dad started to sing: “How ooold are youuu?”
Before anyone else could chime in, Tyler interrupted, “Oh, come on, Dad! Can I have some cake now? I’ve been staring at it all day. I’m gonna die!”
Laughter broke out. With a smirk, Jen nodded. “Yeah, Dad. Ty’s death would put a damper on my birthday, so we’d better feed him some cake,” she joked.
As their mom cut the first slice of cake, Tyler pumped his fist in the air and stage-whispered, “Yes!”
In a quick fifteen minutes, the cake was thoroughly demolished, leaving only crumbs on the platter; wrapping paper lay strewn about the honorary chair where the birthday girl had opened her presents.
As the festivities died down, Jen walked outside and sat on the balcony of her apartment, absentmindedly playing with the ring on her necklace. She stared at the sunset, a lovely mix of yellow, orange, and red with wisps of pink and purple.
Alex snuck up behind her and, leaning in, kissed her on the cheek. “What are you doing out here all alone, babe?” he asked. “Everyone’s inside.”
Coming out of deep thought, she looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Hey. I know, I’m sorry. It’s strange—I just have this . . . feeling. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like something’s missing. Like I forgot to invite somebody or something . . .” She trailed off.
“Okay, look,” Alex started, sitting down next to her and pointing at the group inside. “There are your parents, your brother Tyler”—his finger jumped from person to person—“your best friend Courtney. Am I forgetting anyone?” After scratching his head, his finger jabbed the center of his chest. “Oh, right—your amazing, good-looking boyfriend!” He showed that million-dollar smile before taking her free hand; her other was still grasping the ring. Alex looked at her necklace, then up into her eyes. “Who else could you have forgotten?”
She smiled again. “You’re right. Thanks for reminding me. Something came over me right after I opened up my presents.” In fact, Jen had noticed that the clock had struck her birth minute right after she had torn into her last present.
Alex paused as if in thought, then, only half jokingly, asked, “Mine was the best present, wasn’t it?”
Jen did love the tennis bracelet he’d gifted her, but the diary from her parents meant the most to her. “Of course,” she said, not wanting to hurt his feelings. She let go of the ring and squeezed his knee.
The ring glistened as the sun’s low rays bounced off of its brushed silver and Jen noticed Malcolm intently staring at it. She looked down to admire its design as well. Top to bottom, the ring was only an inch long, but it held an intricate design: the writhing body of a ferocious yet svelte dragon, wrapped around two clashing swords. It all fit seamlessly inside an ornate shield. The ring’s band was a deep obsidian black with mesmerizing purple flecks—vaguely reminiscent of Jen’s beautiful eyes—all of which was inside two thin borders of brushed silver. None in her family knew its true age, but it looked to Jen as if it came straight from Arthurian legend.
Alex broke his gaze from the ring and looked at his girlfriend again. “That ring must mean a lot to you, huh?”
Jen cradled the ring. “Quite a lot. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. My parents said it was given to me by a close family friend when I was born. I’ve never met them, but I’ve heard stories about how nice they were.” She’d told all of this to him before, of course, but repeated the words now more out of comfort.
“How come you don’t wear it on your finger?”
Jen was surprised at Alex’s sudden interest in the ring. “I used to, but whenever I put it on, I wouldn’t feel like myself. It felt too . . . regal. It means a lot to me, though, so I wear it on my necklace.” She chuckled and looked at the ring. “Now I feel naked without it.” She sighed, tucking the ring back beneath her shirt. “I’m just so glad you could make it.” She put her head on his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
The two of them stared off into the sunset in silence.
As the partygoers were filing out of the apartment, her parents gave Jen a big hug. “Happy birthday, Jenny Jasmine,” her dad said with a smile.
“You’re twenty-one!” exclaimed her mom, adding with a wink, “Don’t party too late.”
“That’ll be easy once the Life of the Party is gone,” Jen said, gesturing to Tyler. “Gimme a hug, you lug.” She managed to grab his arm and pull him close.
“Eww, cooties . . . COOTIES!” Tyler squirmed as Jen enveloped him in a tight hug.
“Love you too, Ty,” Jen said, letting him go.
“Good luck with all your finals, sweetie,” her mom said, shrugging on her jacket.
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll let you know how they go when I see you all this weekend!”
Jen waved as they walked down the hallway to the elevator. It chimed and its stainless-steel doors slid open. Jen watched as the three of them disappeared into the elevator. Time always seemed to pass too quickly whenever she was with her family, and she always couldn’t wait to see them again.
Back inside her apartment, Alex and Courtney were the last remaining members of the cleanup crew. Courtney was finishing the dishes while Alex began picking up the shredded pieces of wrapping paper from the floor.
“How could this much wrapping paper come from five presents?” Alex said, wiping his forehead in exaggeration. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
“You should see the mess Tyler made during dessert!” Courtney countered. “He had three slices of cake, but it looks like the majority of it didn’t even make it into his mouth.”
They all laughed.
Jen walked over to help Alex with his task. “Ty sometimes eats so fast his mouth doesn’t open in time for the next bite! That kid . . .” Jen laughed, shaking her head.
Courtney shut off the faucet and dried her hands. “Well, the kitchen is spotless, thanks to the dish-fairy.” She curtsied, then walked over to the counter, picked up her purse, and yawned. “I’m beat.”
Jen walked her to the door.
Courtney winked and whispered, “Have fun.”
Jen blushed. “Thanks for coming, Court.”
“Of course! I expect you to throw me a crazier party for my twenty-first.”
“I’m already p
lanning it. You’re gonna love it, bestie.”
“I’d better, or we’re through,” Courtney joked. “Ta!” She flipped her hair and walked to the elevator.
“Thanks—no pressure or anything!” Jen yelled after her. She locked the door and turned to Alex, who was hunched over, picking up the last, smallest paper pieces stuck to the carpeting.
“Hey, Alllex . . .”
He looked up just in time to drop the trash bag, catching her in his arms.
“Happy birthday, Jen.”
His lips softly touched hers. The full moon peeked through the windows as he put her on the couch and sat down beside her. Jen leaned in for another kiss, but he pulled away slightly and started to talk.
“You know, your eyes are so beautiful. They remind me of the Halostone.” His thumb lightly brushed the outline of her cheekbone.
Jen rested her shoulder on the couch cushion and said, “ ‘The Halostone’? I’ve never heard of that kind of stone before. Is there such a thing?”
