Realm of Shadows Trilogy
Linda McNabb
Realm of Shadows
Trilogy
Linda McNabb
The Guardian
Chapter One - Merra
Chapter Two - Seth
Chapter Three - Rem
Chapter Four - High Gate
Chapter Five - Breach
Chapter Six - Waking the Dragons
Chapter Seven - Dari
Chapter Eight - Hatch!
Chapter Nine - Escape
Chapter Ten - Ryker
Chapter Eleven - The Deal
Chapter Twelve - Tasks
Chapter Thirteen - Night-Shadows
Chapter Fourteen - The Mark of Yarris
Well of Life
Chapter One - Return to Arrow Castle
Chapter Two - High Gate
Chapter Three - An Unusual Delivery
Chapter Four - Seeking Seth
Chapter Five - Means to an End
Chapter Six - Catnapped
Chapter Seven - Beyond the Canyon
Chapter Eight - A Close Call
Chapter Nine - Market Day
Chapter Ten - High Sun
Chapter Eleven - Lookout
Chapter Twelve - Reunited
Chapter Thirteen - City of Dohl
Chapter Fourteen - A Secret Plot
Chapter Fifteen - Night-Shadows Return
Chapter Sixteen - What’s in a Name?
Chapter Seventeen - Well of Life
Rise of the Yarris
Chapter One - Up in Flames
Chapter Two - Going Home
Chapter Three - Remember Remember
Chapter Four - Taking Life
Chapter Five - Water Haven
Chapter Six - The Silver Bridge
Chapter Seven - The Council
Chapter Eight - Water Haven
Chapter Nine - Marcel
Chapter Ten - The Gap
Chapter Eleven - Rise of the Yarris
Chapter Twelve - Into the Fire
Chapter Thirteen - Caden
Chapter Fourteen - High Gate
The Guardian
Book 1 of
Realm of Shadows
By Linda McNabb
Copyright © Linda McNabb 2013, 2014, 2016
www.mcnabbnz.com
Linda McNabb asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.
Cover art © Mauro Rodrigues
Chapter One - Merra
Eagan sank down onto a flat-topped rock in utter disbelief. Even from the top of the hill he could see houses, tracks, and home-made fences of woven branches. Were these people mad? Did they think a few twigs would stop a night-shadow?
It had been a long walk from the deserts of the south several months ago to the edge of the marshlands and his feet were sore. Scowling at the bustling mini-town ahead of him, he bent to examine the soles of his shoes. They would need replacing before he returned to his cottage.
‘This would never have happened in my day,’ a voice muttered in a sour tone.
Eagan ignored the comment and banged his staff on the ground several times, then shook it for good measure. The old wooden staff was as tall as him and topped with a pale red gem.
‘Don’t do that!’ the voice complained. ‘You know it gives me a headache.’
‘Do you have anything good to say, Darius?’ Eagan asked as he stood, alone, and surveyed the town ahead. A few seconds of silence followed and Eagan snorted with laughter. ‘I didn’t think so.’
As much as Eagan complained, he knew he would be lonely without Darius’ constant company. It was a solitary life travelling the lands to check nothing had invaded from the east. Besides, the grumpy wizard had been confined to the staff for nearly two hundred years. It was enough to make anyone difficult!
Eagan looked again at the view below. Merra. Once known as the guardian town of the west, their skilled archers and warriors had always driven back the enemy. Known for their courage and loyalty to the late King of the West, all of Merra rose to the call to fight.
That was how it once had been.
Now the town before him was nothing more than an outlying settlement. There were no warriors here to heed the call if it should come. Centuries of peace had dulled their fear and blunted their blades. No longer was it every boy’s dream to become a warrior of the west. Heroic battles had become myth and fireside tales.
Eagan knew better. He had been there. He had seen the night-shadows. He rubbed his left arm absentmindedly as the scars itched in response to his memories.
He used the staff to push himself to his feet and sighed deeply before beginning the descent down to the flat lands. From here he could see the misty marshlands and the distant mountains that rose above the mist. There was even a hint of the sparkling ocean to the north through The Gap if he squinted hard.
‘Perhaps the people of Merra are right. Maybe there will never be another attack from the east?’ Eagan muttered mostly to himself. He knew Darius would not reply and he knew he was a fool to even consider that the west was safe. It would never be safe.
When he reached the near side of town Eagan scowled at the huge hole in the curtain wall. Once the wall had repelled an enemy but now they would be able to bound right in. He ignored the hard-worn road that led through the new entrance and continued on the old path. When the main entrance came into sight he had to fight yet another sigh of irritation. The drawbridge was not only down, it was unguarded.
The only person in sight was a boy of about fifteen, dirty and dressed in clothes that looked as if they’d never been washed. He was far too skinny and Eagan frowned. Surely Merra wasn’t having another famine? It had been only a year or two since he had intervened and saved the town from starvation.
‘Boy!’ Eagan called out. He reached into his bag, meaning to draw out some of the last of his food.
The boy looked up and his long, straggly blond hair flicked out of his face, showing scared and wild eyes of pure blue. He took several stones from his pocket and threw them at Eagan before running off towards a small glade of trees. Eagan considered following him but a voice from the drawbridge drew his attention.
‘Your Wizardness!’
Eagan felt a small smile play on his lips and shook his head reproachfully. A broad-shouldered youth stood grinning at Eagan as a chicken squirmed in his arms.
‘I’ve told you before, Nyal, I’m a Guardian, not a wizard,’ Eagan told the boy. ‘Where are you taking the chicken?’
‘I only let them out to play,’ Nyal said. ‘But Ma wasn’t happy. They looked so bored, stuck in their little cage.’
Nyal shook his head as another chicken came running down the drawbridge. ‘Ma told me to catch them all and put them back or I’d get no dinner.’
Eagan scooped up the second chicken with his free hand and guided Nyal back into the walled town. He knew the simple-minded boy meant no harm. As they came into the town-proper several other boys, just short of manhood, snickered with laughter when the chicken leapt from Nyal’s arms. One of them went to call out something but another boy stopped him.
‘Don’t do it, Cem. The boy is cursed and it will steal your voice if you speak to him.’
Eagan hid a smile as he watched the bullies walk off, leaving Nyal chasing comically after the chicken.
‘See, another waste of my magic,’ Darius said dryly, appearing just in front of Eagan. The wizard seemed to be more of a reflection that you would see in a lake, rather than a real person and he wavered in and out of
sight.
Darius might be over two hundred years old but he seemed much younger than Eagan. With black hair that needed brushing and a full black beard, he looked a lot like a bear. He shook his head and made a tutting sound as if telling off a small child. He held a huge brown leather-bound book and he flipped it open dramatically.
‘Should I refresh your memory?’ Darius asked with one raised eyebrow.
‘Could I stop you?’ Eagan asked, sorely tempted to shake the staff again.
‘Hrrrmmmp…’ Darius cleared his throat as he flipped over several pages and ran his finger down the list then jabbed at an entry. ‘Almost three summers ago. May the voice of ill be stilled. I told you it was a waste of a spell. It did not make him fit in, nor did the other boys learn a lesson from it. How many spells are you going to waste?’
Eagan shook his head. ‘It wasn’t a waste. Did the boys tease him just now? Did they upset him and make his life miserable as they used to? The spell was small, and you know it. It only worked once. Stealing the voice from the next person who teased him and even that only lasted for a moon cycle. The only thing that keeps him from being teased now is the rumour of that one spell, nothing more.’
Darius made a sound that was similar to a water beast blowing water from its nose. He slammed the book shut and vanished.
Eagan just shrugged, readjusted the chicken under his arm, and walked on into the town. The market place was not far from the real entrance to the town and he easily found Nyal’s mother and gave the chicken back.
‘Oh, it’s a magic show tonight then!’ Nyal’s mother exclaimed, clapping her hands after depositing the chicken back into its cage.
Eagan didn’t bother to correct her. His show had nothing to do with magic, but he had long since given up trying to convince anyone that it was just illusions.
A quick glance around the market place told him that the skinny boy by the drawbridge was not an indication of famine. The stalls were all well-stocked and the people well-fed and happy. No, there was no shortage of food in Merra.
Word spread along the market stalls faster than Eagan could walk and soon he was surrounded by young children and parents alike, all keen to know when the magic show would be.
‘In the square at dusk,’ Eagan repeated time and time again.
As the crowd finally dispersed, Eagan’s eyes were drawn to the tall tower built against the curtain wall. It wasn’t far from the newly-created entrance to the town and he headed towards it. The drum tower was supposed to be manned at all times, but he could not see anyone above the barrier that surrounded the small platform at the top. It was the entire west’s defence warning and Eagan did not argue when Darius chirped in.
‘They should be whipped for this.’
How could he get the people of Merra to realise what a position of importance they held? If an attack came, it was Merra that warned the rest of the kingdom and beyond to the lowlands in the south. He stamped loudly up the wooden steps to the platform and sighed as he saw the drummer fast asleep against one of the drums.
Eagan didn’t even pause as he strode up and whacked one of the drums with his staff. Two short, sharp raps on the brass drum that faced to the south. The young man leapt to his feet and looked around wildly and then, seeing the old man he frowned and hurried over to still the vibrations from the huge brass drum.
‘Who are you? What are you doing up here?’ he said, rubbing his ears.
‘Why did you do that?’ Darius shouted, appearing next to the young man and shaking his head from side to side. ‘I’ll probably have a headache for a week!’
The young man took no notice of Darius – he didn’t hear nor see him – only Eagan had that pleasure.
‘It looks like high-sun to me,’ Eagan said, pointing up into the sky.
The young man frowned, took a small parchment from his pocket and studied it carefully. ‘Really?’ he muttered to himself as he turned the parchment over and around then shrugged. ‘I’m just filling in for my older brother. He said he would be back before the high-sun message. I don’t even know how to read this.’
A faint echo of three short tones drifted across the mountains and Eagan felt a small amount of relief. At least someone was in the drum tower at Rega. An even fainter echo of four tones told him that the daily drum test had reached Everly.
The rest of the drum towers were too far off to expect to hear them from here, except for the first tower at High Gate. The High Gate tower never responded with its single tone. Nobody expected it to. The only time the drum was used on the other side of the marshlands was to sound the alarm of an invasion. It had been over two hundred years since the drum had been heard.
‘Make sure your brother is here tomorrow,’ Eagan muttered and headed back down the steps.
There was a good view of the entire market from this height and Eagan paused halfway down. The boy from the drawbridge, skinny and bedraggled, was making his way towards the marketplace. He was rushing from one hiding place to the next and glancing around fearfully. Finally, the boy reached a stall selling apples and hid underneath. He reached up and took several and began to eat one hungrily.
‘Oi!’ the stall owner shouted, seeing his apples vanish. He came around the front of the stall and Eagan expected him to haul the thief out. Instead, the stall owner took one look and backed away at a pace that showed his fear even from this distance.
Eagan frowned. What could be so frightening about the boy?
‘Get out of here, Seth!’ the stall owner shouted, grabbing oranges off a nearby stall and throwing them at the youth.
Seth scuttled out and grabbed the oranges, and a bread roll that another man threw, then scampered away. The crowds of the market place parted before him like a wave on the ocean and he vanished out the town’s main entrance.
There was much shouting and arguing among the crowd and stall owners alike for several minutes and Eagan descended the rest of the steps to listen.
‘Someone needs to keep him away from here,’ the man with the apples said, wiping the closest apples with his apron as if they were contaminated.
‘Well we can’t exactly lock him out of the town,’ another man said, pointing to the huge hole in the wall, ‘but we could raise the drawbridge.’
‘Then he’d come around the houses beyond the wall,’ another called angrily. ‘We don’t want our children dying!’
Children dying? Eagan couldn’t even begin to guess what they were all so afraid of. He hurried over to find out what was going on.
‘We should leave food by the drawbridge so that he doesn’t come into the town,’ the second man suggested.
‘What has the boy done?’ Eagan asked, interrupting the stall owner as he was about to speak again.
‘Seth? He turned up here one full moon in spring. Wandering all alone and starving. Good people that we are, we took him in,’ the man replied with a furious shake of his head as if he regretted that kindness now. ‘First it was the plants, and then all the birds. They all began to die. Nothing lives for long near him.’
‘Word reached us later in the summer that he’d been cast out of his village for fear that he would kill them all or they would starve from dead crops,’ the neighbouring stall owner took up the tale. ‘Born on a dark summer’s day at high-sun is what they said.’
A dark summer’s day. Eagan knew what they were talking about. Some fifteen years ago the sun had vanished in the middle of the day. Darkness had descended on the land and those who watched the sun reappear a while later were blinded for life.
‘He’s cursed, that boy,’ the first man said, and kicked an apple into the ditch. It had a small bite out of it – about the size a fifteen year old boy would make.
Eagan frowned. Something sounded odd about all this. It wasn’t just a matter of the townsfolk making up stories about a troublesome boy.
**
The apple was sour. Seth chewed it slowly and sucked every bit of moisture from it. He huddled up against a headstone to break
the cold wind that swept across the graveyard. At least the people here didn’t drive him off. His cheek rested against the cold stone and he glanced at the inscription. Georgo – A Good Kind Man. Seth wondered what they would put on his own headstone.
He doubted anyone would bother to write anything. He scowled at the walls in the distance and pulled his knees up to his chest to draw them out of the wind. He shivered and he wished he’d managed to steal a blanket. The days were drawing in cold now and his bed of leaves was warm enough, but it wouldn’t see him through the winter.
A blackbird flew overhead and circled, then landed on a headstone a short distance away; perhaps looking for scraps. Seth picked up the slingshot that was never far from him and loosed a stone at it with a snap of his wrist. It missed by a fair distance but the bird flew off with a startled squawk. Seth sighed with relief. He hadn’t wanted to hit the bird anyway, just scare it away.
A sound in the distance made him sit up and stare across the bare land towards the town. A lone man was walking towards the graveyard. Seth frowned. Nobody came here unless they were burying someone and he made sure to keep well out of sight when they did. As the person came closer Seth saw it was the man with the gold-trimmed cloak that arrived earlier in the day. He looked like a travelling musician or an entertainer. Seth watched, wondering what he was doing this far out of town. Surely someone had told him to avoid the graveyard?
