Regulators Revealed

by Toby Neighbors

  Regulators Revealed

  Marshyl Stories Book 4

  by

  Toby Neighbors

  Regulators Revealed, Marshyl Stories book 4

  © 2018, Toby Neighbors

  Published by Mythic Adventure Publishing, LLC

  Idaho, USA

  All Rights Reserved No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Copy Editing by Alexandria Mandzak

  Books By Toby Neighbors

  Jack & Roxie

  Avondale

  Draggah

  Balestone

  Arcanius

  Avondale V

  Wizard Rising

  Magic Awakening

  Hidden Fire

  Fierce Loyalty

  Crying Havoc

  Evil Tide

  Wizard Falling

  Chaos Descending

  Into Chaos

  Chaos Reigning

  Chaos Raging

  Controlling Chaos

  Killing Chaos

  Lorik

  Lorik the Defender

  Lorik the Protector

  The Vault Of Mysteries

  Lords Of Ascension

  The Elusive Executioner

  Third Prince

  Royal Destiny

  The Other Side

  The New World

  Zompocalypse Omnibus

  We Are The Wolf

  Welcome To The Wolfpack

  Embracing Oblivion

  Joined In Battle

  The Abyss Of Savagery

  My Lady Sorceress

  The Man With No Hands

  ARC Angel

  Dedication

  To my dad, Thurman L. Lunsford

  for sharing the secret recipe

  And to Sunshine Dreamer

  Fellow adventurer and magic believer

  Toby Neighbors Online

  www.TobyNeighbors.com

  www.Facebook.com/TobyNeighborsAuthor

  Instagram @TobyTheWriter

  On Twitter @TobyNeighbors

  Prologue

  His name was Maslow, but he was known by other names. His master and spiritual mentor called him the Hammer, and prophesied that he would smash the Marshyl’s Guild to pieces, opening the way for magic to return to the Dragon Isle. His enemies called him the Elusive Executioner, because of his deadly prowess and ability to disappear so completely that they were helpless to find him. But there was only one name on his mind as he fled through the mountains, his chest gashed from the wolf’s bite spell that had rebounded off the Marshyl knight’s shield and ripped through his robes. The spell had lost much of its power and the lacerations weren’t deep, but the wound was still debilitating. Each step was painful, and the rough terrain of the mountain trail made his journey even more difficult, but the burning of the cuts, and the wheezing of each labored breath made him think of the young Marshyl who knew him by a different name — Dad.

  Maslow hadn’t thought of his family in a long, long time. They were a distant memory, more dream than reality, lost to the fog that clouded his mind, yet seeing his son in the camp of his greatest enemy had shaken Maslow to the core. He had a son, one he had not seen in many years, yet the boy in the powerful armor who had challenged him just as Maslow was about to destroy the Marshyl Guild’s most powerful member, the vaunted Lord Marshyl, was without a doubt his own flesh and blood. How the boy, who Maslow had known as a dreamer, too busy playing to commit to any real work, had become a Marshyl astounded the Elusive Executioner. But he hadn’t been there for his family as his son grew into manhood. The man who had eked out a living pulling fish from the sea was dead, lost to the erratic whims of the wild ocean and hurled hundreds of miles from his home.

  Maslow stumbled along a narrow, winding trail; a game path, really. There were trees all around him, thick evergreens, some above on the steep mountainside, others below in a narrow valley. The wounded wizard leaned against a boulder and tried to catch his breath. He knew he was vulnerable and had to keep moving before the Marshyls could find him, but he needed rest to recover from his wounds. Snow was falling softly and the only sound was his own wheezing breath. The cold was seeping into him and soon he would need to find shelter for the night, but his mind kept returning to the look of shock on the face of his son. Dex was a Marshyl; that fact was harder to accept than any wound or loss in battle. It was like a thorn in his soul, a betrayal that couldn’t be tolerated.

  He trudged on up the path, his robes wrapped tight against the cold, his eyes fixed on the trail, but his mind returning time and again to his son. What would his master say, Maslow thought to himself. He was the Hammer, and he had faced the Marshyls alone. Men should be composing songs of his prowess in battle, and lauding him for destroying the curse of the Marshyl Guild, yet his enemies had somehow known about him. They had known that they were unable to stop the Elusive Executioner, but they were a canny foe. Knowing their own strength wasn’t sufficient, they had recruited his son — it was the only possible explanation for how Dex had joined the enemy’s ranks. They must have sought the boy out and trained him for just that purpose, to surprise the Hammer and foil the Executioner’s plans to destroy the Marshyl Guild.

  Maslow couldn’t be certain, but he guessed he had held back when he saw Dex rushing to aid the fallen Lord Marshyl on the battlefield outside their legendary compound. He had come to the clearing with one purpose, but seeing his son oppose him must have caused a shock that made him hold back. The boy had on strange armor, that was true. It wasn’t like the other Marshyls, it was stronger and more difficult to penetrate, but Maslow was certain he could have cracked the metal if he hadn’t been so surprised to see his own flesh and blood standing against him.

  It didn’t take foresight to see what lay ahead of Maslow. His mission had been simple — find the Sylykron. Yet his strategy to destroy the Marshyl Guild had failed, and he was no closer to finding the source of all magical power than before he had set out from Mygar’s Keep. He would have to return to his master and report his failure, but he also knew his son would come for him. It was inevitable. And when that happened, Maslow would have to convince his son of the truth. Perhaps Dex even knew where the Marshyls kept the Sylykron. If Maslow couldn’t persuade the boy to join them in their holy quest, then his master, the great sorcerer Crane, would pry the information from his son’s mind. The latter thought made Maslow shiver. He wouldn’t enjoy seeing his son’s mind torn apart, but if the Marshyls had ensnared the boy so completely with their lies, it would have to be done.

  As the sunlight, filtered through thick gray clouds, grew weak, Maslow spotted a small burrow of some kind. It was little more than a hole formed under the arching roots of a massive spruce tree. The spreading limbs above offered shelter from the snow, and there were no tracks or indications that an animal was using the small den, which was filled with decaying leaves and old pine needles. The wizard dropped to his knees and crawled under the spreading branches of the spruce tree. He couldn’t risk a fire, and his rations were dangerously low, but he was too tired to eat anyway. Wrapping his robe tight around his shoulders, he squirmed down into the burrow, glad to be out of the wind and snow. His body craved sleep, and he knew it wouldn’t take long before he passed out from exhaustion under the huge tree, but as he lay in the gloomy shadow of the spruce, his mind flickered back to the face of his son. He could see the young boy running toward him on the beach, shouting and jumping with excitement to see his father. It was a stark contrast to the resolute determination on his face as the young knight stood over the fallen Lor
d Marshyl, not to mention the sheer shock that settled over his features as recognition set in.

  Maslow knew he had fought his son, and Dex knew he had fought his father. Their conflict had begun, but it was far from finished. Maslow’s master would know what to do, that much the wizard was sure of. Dex couldn’t stop their plans, nor could he save the wretched Marshyl Guild, hoarders of the Source. Nothing could be allowed to hinder the return of magic to the Dragon Isle, not even a father’s love for his son. If the boy didn’t stand aside, he would have to be destroyed.

  Chapter 1

  “No!” Reegan said. “He’s not ready.”

  “He saved the Lord Marshyl’s life,” Ranger Saul said. “He stopped that murdering dung heap when no one else could. I’d say he’s ready.”

  “No one has ever been given a quest without full training,” the Outrider said. “You can’t possibly send him on such a dangerous mission all alone.”

  The Lord Marshyl was on his feet, but leaning heavily on a cane. He looked old and frail, which perhaps shouldn’t have been surprising, but Outrider Reegan had been shocked to see his mentor cast so low. The Lord Marshyl had always been a strong, vigorous man, powerful and gregarious. Yet the stories Reegan had heard about the attack on the Marshyl compound were true, and the Lord Marshyl was waning, like a summer moon, barely a sliver of his former self.

  “What you’re both forgetting is that Dex knew the assailant,” the Lord Marshyl said calmly. “He claims it was his father.”

  “He’s mistaken,” Reegan argued. “His father is dead, the boy told me so himself.”

  “You think someone would know their own kin,” Ranger Saul argued.

  “The point is, whether we send Dex after the Executioner or not, he’s going to go,” the Lord Marshyl said. “I would rather he didn’t. I would rather that he stay here and learn as much as we can teach him, but the world is changing. Our numbers are half what they once were, and more wizards appear every day. This threat is growing and no matter how we feel about Adept Dex, he’s going to have to take his place in the Guild and fight for what we believe in.”

  “But not alone,” Reegan said. “Surely you see that much. Let me go with him.”

  “Would you be able to stop yourself from slaying this executioner?” Ranger Saul said. “I certainly wouldn’t, which would only make Dex resent us.”

  “I recruited those boys,” Reegan said. “They saved my life. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if we didn’t try to save them. We’re talking about sending an adept after a man who has killed dozens of fully trained knights with years of experience.”

  “I know,” the Lord Marshyl said, sounding tired and sad. “I also owe Dex my life, and I believe he is the future of the Guild. I would not throw his life away for no purpose, but he needs this quest and we do, too.”

  “That boy has saved more Marshyl lives than most veteran knights,” Ranger Saul said. “Not to mention he and his friends found Laskis all on their own, saved a village in the Sawtooth Mountains, and forged a new kind of magical armor without any help from us. I don’t think we have much to worry about.”

  “You’re underestimating this threat,” Reegan said.

  “No one is underestimating the threat to our Guild and to the kingdoms of the Dragon Isle,” the Lord Marshyl said. “But don’t forget there is a powerful sorcerer somewhere who has developed the means to overcome our defenses. We’re on our heels here, Reegan. We need everyone working together.”

  “Can I at least speak to him first?” Reegan said. “He needs to understand what he’s getting himself into.”

  “Of course you can,” the Lord Marshyl said. “I’ll call him in soon, and the quest will be voluntary. I would never force someone so young to undertake such a dangerous mission without their consent.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you would,” Reegan said. “Forgive my impertinence. I just feel so helpless.”

  “For too long we have relied on the secret knowledge of the past to give us strength to defeat our enemies,” the Lord Marshyl said. “If we don’t adapt, we may lose all that we hold dear, not just Dex and his friends.”

  Reegan left the Lord Marshyl’s quarters high in the great wall. There was still construction all around the compound. No one had found the source of the massive earthquake that nearly destroyed the Marshyl fortress. And only Dex’s selfless actions, throwing himself between the Executioner and the Lord Marshyl, had saved the Guild from being destroyed by a lone assailant. The Outrider simply couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that the powerful Marshyl Guild had been laid so low, yet they were reeling. Rumors and fear infested the compound, and the Marshyls on patrols or serving as ambassadors to the rulers of the various kingdoms throughout the realm were desperate for answers. But the Lord Marshyl had none to give them. It seemed all their hopes rested on the shoulders of young Dex, an orphan boy who had proven himself capable, but who hadn’t even been a familiar long enough to complete the regular cycles of training. The fact that he and his friends knew more than most veteran knights about the Marshyl Order and the Sylykron was irrelevant.

  It didn’t take long to find the young warrior. The squawking of his pet phoenix was a dead giveaway. The interior of the compound was a wide open area surrounded by buildings. The mess hall and new recruit dormitories were along the northern side, and the Keeper workshops and offices, including the archive building with the Vault of Mysteries, were on the southern edge. The far end was reserved for the many smithies where the Forgers worked with metal, precious stones, and magical items to create the legendary Marshyl armor. There were also corrals and barns for the many animals kept by the Guild, mostly horses and mules.

  In the distance Reegan could see the obstacle course, known by the Marshyls as the Gauntlet. But no one was training and most of the chimneys in the smithy buildings were cold and quiet. The great courtyard was covered in heaps of stone, wood, and other building materials. Some of it was new, other piles were scraps from the destruction the earthquake had caused among the many buildings. Most of the compound had been destroyed, but the Marshyls were resourceful. They used magic to levitate heavy objects into place and fuse stone or metal together. The Guild was busy rebuilding their home and fortress, the one place in the entire realm where most Marshyl Knights felt safe.

  Dex wasn’t helping with the cleanup or rebuilding, he was too busy training for a mission he knew would come soon enough. Reegan found him between two piles of rubble, where a wooden post had been hammered deep into the ground. Dex was practicing his sword work, by far his greatest strength. Reegan thought that Dex was a natural with a sword. Most Marshyls relied on basic swordsmanship with a heavy emphasis on their weapon’s magical abilities. Dex could hold his own in a sword fight, and Reegan admired that about him. The veteran Outrider had been in enough duels to know that magic was merely an enhancement of a person’s skills, not the driving force in a fight.

  “That bird is a nuisance,” Reegan said loudly from behind Dex.

  What happened next truly surprised Reegan, who prided himself on not being caught off guard. Dex turned without a word and rushed toward him. Reegan saw the sword in the young man’s hands, and for a moment he felt a sense of danger. He didn’t know that Dex was angry with him, and Reegan had left his weapons in the spare room he’d been assigned when he returned to the compound from his latest assignment. But Dex wasn’t angry, and he didn’t attack the Outrider. Instead he threw his arms around the older man and buried his face into Reegan’s chest.

  “Whoa, easy there, Dex,” Reegan said. “What’s wrong?”

  Chapter 2

  “It’s my dad,” Dex said, his eyes stinging with tears. He didn’t want to cry, but he felt so ashamed. His father was the Elusive Executioner, the man whose crimes had become legend among the Marshyls. He was feared by the entire Marshyl Guild, and he had almost slain the Lord Marshyl. The weight of that knowledge was almost more than Dex could bear.

  “I know,” Reegan sai
d, embracing his young protégée as Bliss hopped from foot to foot. “The Lord Marshyl told me. He also said you saved his life.”

  “I didn’t know who the Executioner was,” Dex said. “But I had the silver dagger and I was the only one who could get to the Lord Marshyl in time.”

  “You did well, and it seems you’ve been rewarded for your courage and selflessness.”

  Dex held out the sword that had once belonged to the Lord Marshyl. It was light and perfectly balanced. The leaf-shaped blade was razor sharp, despite the fact that Dex had been slashing and thrusting at the pole. The metal had a deep blue tint, and the Lord Marshyl’s mark had been stamped into the steel just above the cross guard.

  “It’s forged with elf tears and dwarf beard,” Dex said. “I haven’t tested out the spells, but I know what they are.”

  “It is a great weapon,” Reegan said. “The Lord Marshyl forged it himself. There are stories that he spent time along Torgyl’s Wall, and that he defeated a troll with the help of a dwarf named Gurn Thickskull.”

  “Do you believe it,” Dex asked, feeling better as they talked about things other than his father.

  “Oh, I’ve heard amazing stories about dwarves along the great wall north of the Greeg Lands, but I’ve never seen one myself. Still, the Lord Marshyl is more than just a skillful fighter, there’s much more to being a Marshyl Knight than fighting.”

  “I’m not very good at the diplomacy part,” Dex said.

  “With time and experience that will change, I’m certain of it. Now, tell me everything that happened since the first attack on the compound. I’ve heard you, Kyp, and Squirrel had some adventures.”

  Dex sat on a log with Bliss filling his lap while Reegan kindled a fire using some of the scrap wood in one of the many heaps of debris in the courtyard. Reegan listened intently, asking questions occasionally, usually about the decisions that Dex had made. The young Marshyl pulled off the leather glove he wore to cover the blackened skin of his right hand. The platinum was like bright silver across his knuckles and the back of his hand, and the opal shards caught the light as Dex warmed his hand by the fire. Reegan studied the hand where the mage ring had bonded to Dex’s skin.