Armies of the Silver Mage
Ever ashamed of the horrors his kind let loose on the world the last mage, Dakeb, lives his life in shadows. His chance finally comes through the hearts and wills of Delin and Fennic. Dakeb bestows upon them the crystal shard, entrusting them with the one thing capable of restoring peace to Malweir.
Best Book Bit:
“You shouldn’t mess with that,” Delin warned.
Nonsense. “Who’s going to know?”
Fennic opened his mouth to reply when the baying of an old hound dog echoed around the clearing. Old Man Wiffe was coming home. Delin ran to the door in time to see the recluse entering the clearing. They were trapped. He turned and was astonished to see Fennic brandishing the sword like a professional arms man.
“Put that back! We need to get out of here now.”
Fennic marveled at the way the sword cut through the air, whistling with superiority. What a wondrous thing this silver sword was. Delin snatched him by the wrist, breaking the spell. Wild eyes stared back at him.
“Didn’t you hear me? Wiffe is back!”
Panic struck Fennic. He hurried to replace the sword, lest he was caught with it in his hands. What would Wiffe think? That he was stealing the sword? Chances were that he would kill both of them. He ran to the window and peered out. There was nothing out there. No dog, no sign of the old man. “I think it’s safe. I don’t see anyone,” he said.
The door groaned open and the old hound snapped at them. A heavy shadow fell on them.
“Well, well. What have I here?” the deep voice rolled like thunder across the mountains.
Panic gripped them. Delin briefly considered running out the back window but the dog snapping and barking at his feet stopped him immediately. Fennic’s heart skipped. The sword whispered, begged to be used, but Fennic was couldn’t move.
“Would be thieves come to rob an old man? I don’t think so,” said the newcomer with unmistakable menace in his tone.
Another hour went by and then the first great rock formation came into view. Heavy shadows fell, prematurely darkening the area. Tarren’s heart felt cold, warning her not to enter. The Centaurs reined to a halt.
“Make camp. We enter at dawn,” Ris ordered. He turned to Tarren and added, “There are many creatures in this maze that I have no wish to confront in the night. Thuil Lake and Ipn Shal lay but two days hence. There is time still.”
“What is this place? Why does it feel so cold?” she asked.
“Tis an evil place name Shadom Gein, my lady. Many Mages died here. Some were good and some evil. It is said their ghosts still haunt the rocks. I, for one, will not venture inside without the power of the sun,” Ris replied.
A deep horn blow cut his thoughts off.
Torches could be seen moving through the tree behind them and from the right. The trap was carefully set, pinching the small band of Centaurs between them and the haunted rocks of Shadom Gein.
Ris looked at her with concern. “There are too many to fight. We now have no choice but to enter.”
Vinz edged closer, sword in hand. “Let us fight past them. They can’t be as organized as we believe.”
“No. I’ll not risk another life to foolishness.”
“Yet you will risk us all in there?” Vinz exclaimed. His fear of Shadom Gein tainting his words.
Demon faces formed in the rocks, mocking them to come and find doom. Tarren shuddered. To her, this was the darkest place in the world. Poison tipped arrows began darting past. Some struck the rock faces in a shower of sparks. The Centaurs returned fire and Goblins fell. Blood lust raged in the Goblins eyes.
“Quickly! Into the rocks!” Ris shouted.
Vinz grabbed his forearm. “You’ll kill us all.”
“Then we’re dead either way.”