Category: Fantasy Publisher: Port Town Publishing
ISBN-10: 1594660840
Pages: 284
Copyright: April, 2007
ISBN-13: 9781594660849
Sequel to The Call. Kate and her family's journey continues...
A journey continued. Kate’s sophomore year of college is underway. Everything has changed. She’s leading a double life and her volleyball teammates are already shocked by what they know. What if they knew the whole story?
A destiny realized. As Kate and her family head toward the final battle with evil, every one of her beliefs will be tested. Her faith will be shaken to the core. Her strength will be exhausted and she will have to depend on the one thing she’s always taken for granted.
Excerpt
The rain fell in sheets as Ruark and Wilyam rode. Ruark was anxious to get to Adam’s encampment. He needed to meet with General Donal and get an update on the general’s excursion into Karasi.
As darkness gathered, Ruark did not see a deep rut in the road. Wilyam called for him to halt seconds before Rayne stepped in the muddy depression. Ruark yanked the reins, and his weary horse sidestepped and reared. Ruark almost slid from the horse’s back. He decided they should stop for the night. They would journey more safely when the downpour subsided. He pointed to a grove of trees, and Wilyam followed him into the thick canopy of leaves. Here, the raindrops fell in a gentle shower.
Wilyam pulled two small tarps from his saddlebags, and they quickly strung them between the trees, making a shelter for themselves and the horses. Ruark unsaddled the horses and gave them food and water. The Cathal had given them a supply of dry wood at the last camp, which Wilyam had carefully packed away. He busied himself building a fire under the makeshift tent and getting out provisions for supper.
They sat down to a pleasant meal and discussed the upcoming meeting with Donal.
Ruark fell silent, pushing his carrots and potatoes around on his plate. “Merry Christmas, friend.”
Wilyam smiled. “Merry Christmas. I have something for you.”
The warrior went to his saddlebag and pulled out a small package, wrapped in a piece of light brown canvas. When he returned to the campfire, there was a similarly wrapped gift sitting on the log he had occupied moments ago.
Ruark grinned bashfully. “It’s just a little something…”
Wilyam nodded and handed the gift to his commander.
They opened them in silence and both gave a small chuckle. Ruark held up the pack of flashlight batteries. “Always covering my back, aren’t you?”
Wilyam shrugged. “I couldn’t have Lady Kathia teasing you forever about that one, small faux pas on the journey to Cian last summer.”
Wilyam examined the miniature compass. “Thank you,” he said with a grin.
Ruark leaned forward. “No one ever need know that my first officer, the best tracker of all the Cathal, uses his sight, hearing, and sense of smell to find his target – rather than his very limited sense of direction.”
“Kathia would love to know that she and I share the burden of being directionally impaired.”
“She never needs to.” Ruark winked.
Wilyam suddenly turned his head to peer into the dark underbrush surrounding them.
“What is it?” Ruark whispered.
“I heard something. And I sense…” Wilyam rose and drew his ten inch blade from the sheath at his hip. Ruark followed suit.
An amused laugh sounded from the blackness. “Do you really think those will help you?”
Lorcan stepped from the deep shadows and into the flickering light of the campfire. The flames played on his dark features, casting his face in shadows and reflecting in his black eyes. He wore black leather pants and a vest similar to those worn by the Cathal. It left his massive arms bare and most of his thick chest fully exposed. His arms were the size of tree trunks and his stature was daunting. Both men started at him, as he stood casually, a few feet away.
Neither warrior spoke. They didn’t need to ask what Lorcan was doing here; why he had come; what his intentions were. Those were obvious. They stood like statues; muscles tensed and ready; eyes scanning in all directions as they searched the darkness for signs that Lorcan’s demons had accompanied him. Ruark felt a thickness in the air around him and knew it was the physical manifestation of evil.
“Friends, have you no greeting for me?”
“Evil is not welcome here,” Wilyam said.
“Evil? Is that what you think of me?” Lorcan smiled, and his white teeth flashed. The devastating smile was a stark contrast to his dark eyes and black beard. He shrugged his mighty shoulders. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that.”
Ruark gripped the handle of his knife. He knew that Lorcan would not attack first. The being would stand and play word games with them, hoping he could goad them into becoming angry and charging him. Ruark had no intention of allowing Lorcan to bait him into an impassioned and foolish fight.
The Cathal spent a lifetime training in their special form of hand-to-hand combat. The discipline of Maon, as with many martial art forms on Earth, was primarily about defense. Still, Ruark had the option of striking the first blow, and in this case, he would exercise that option. The strike would be calm, calculated, and at the time of his choosing. It would not be motivated by rage or desperation.
Ruark shifted his weight ever so slightly. This was his way of signaling his intent to Wilyam. Wilyam twitched a shoulder muscle to indicate his understanding.
Ruark shot forward, covering the distance between himself and Lorcan. At the same moment, Wilyam cut to the side, to come around the enemy from behind. Ruark knew it would be impossible for him to kill Lorcan in his immortal form, but he planned to do enough damage for them to escape.
He lowered his shoulder and threw all two hundred and twenty pounds of his weight into Lorcan’s stomach. Wilyam came in from the side, and rolled into the back of the monster’s knees. As surprise registered on his face, Lorcan fell backwards and landed with a loud grunt. Ruark fell with him, but rolled quickly to the side and jumped to his feet. He raised his knife to strike a blow, even knowing it was useless to try and penetrate the flesh of something that was not human.
Lorcan raised a hand in Ruark’s direction. “Desist!”
Ruark felt something strike him in the chest with such force, it knocked him off his feet and sent him sailing through the air. He slammed into the trunk of a gigantic oak. The rough bark tore the bare flesh on his shoulders as he slid to the ground. The air was forced from his lungs, and he sat gasping for breath at the base of the tree.
He looked up in time to see Lorcan towering over Wilyam, who was on his knees before the black clad giant. Lorcan lifted a tremendous arm and backhanded him across the face. Wilyam’s head snapped to the side, but he stayed upright. Lorcan picked him up by the throat, lifting him into the air and bringing him face to face. Wilyam’s hands went to the ones at his throat, and he fought to break their grip.
Lorcan stared into Wilyam’s eyes. “Empath. You will serve me willingly. Or you will die.”
“I…choose…death.”
Lorcan shrugged. “I figured as much. Nothing is ever easy with you boys.”
He threw Wilyam backwards, as if he weighed nothing. The warrior hit the ground and rolled several times before striking something in the darkness and jerking to a sudden stop. He lay motionless.
Ruark found his voice and heard himself cry out. “Will!”
Lorcan turned his gaze to the commander and strode menacingly in his direction.
Book Two of The Jade Owl Legacy Series: The quest continues as the Professor and his confidants discover the full weight of their mission and acquire supernatural powers to further heir success.
AGAINST THE ARCHONS With the Valraphs, Brother Jacob goes on a dangerous journey across the lost continent in order to confront The Dire of Melancholia. Guided by a Lizardman Sahkah, he finds himself at one time in a v
