The Maps of Seven and the Trinket of Iris
By Eli Reed
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About this ebook
Eli Reed
Eli Reed is a professional author, musician, artist, and has published two titles in the young adult fictional fantasy genre. The young author has been writing since the time a pen would hold steady in hand, and music as well as art has been a part of the passion that yields wonderful stories of adventure.
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The Maps of Seven and the Trinket of Iris - Eli Reed
Copyright 2014 Eli Reed.
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 written prior permission of the author.
ISBN: 978-1-4907-0758-7 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4907-0760-0 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4907-0759-4 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014914058
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1 The Witch And The Oracle: Sign Of The Great Star
Chapter 2 The Purebreds Search: The Abyss Just Beyond
Chapter 3 Approaching Trouble: A Moment Of Panic
Chapter 4 On The Move: No Time To Waste
Chapter 5 The City Of The Sea: Game Of Hide And Seek
Chapter 6 Victoria’s Cottage: Journey To The North
Chapter 7 A Dear Friend: A Moment Of Lightness
Chapter 8 Looming Darkness: A Race To The Seaport
Chapter 9 Cold And Damp Dusk: Keep Afoot The Path
Chapter 10 The Necromancer’s Wrath: The Night Owl Awakened
Chapter 11 Taking Courage: Failure Not An Option
Chapter 12 A Moment Alone: The Talk Of Old Friends
Chapter 13 The Heart Of Twins: The Veil Beckons
Chapter 14 Enduring The Sea: The Tricks Of A Conjurer
Chapter 15 The Witch Has Heard: Retaliation Lingers
Chapter 16 A Sight For Sore Eyes: Off To The Temple
Chapter 17 Into The City: A Destiny To Meet
Chapter 18 The Dark Chateau: Bones That Live
Chapter 19 The Lady Of The Castle: No Longer Bezilee
Chapter 20 Release The Pandemic: No Turning Back
Chapter 21 The White Owl: Night Star Of Enubis
Chapter 22 The Lessons Of A Great Lord: Love Conquers All
Chapter 23 A Moment For Thoughts: Alone And Contemplative
Chapter 24 The Ships Will Approach: Sesian Commands His Fleet
Chapter 25 A Task Bestowed: An Old Feud Rekindled
Chapter 26 Planning Ahead: Ship Fleets To Brave The Sea
Chapter 27 Unleashed: The Mysterious Maps Of Seven
Chapter 28 Devoted We Stand: Those Loyal To The Future King
Chapter 29 The Magnificent Wall Of Unatah: The Kingdom Of King Saules
Chapter 30 A Special Visit: The Words Of A Noble Friend
Chapter 31 The First Map: Seeking A Palace Beyond The Horizon
Chapter 32 Searching For Salt: Facing The Dark Of The Deep
Chapter 33 Sea Salt Harvest: On The Move Through The Sea
Chapter 34 Emerging From The Dark: A Danger Lurks Near
Chapter 35 Almost There: A Shallow Heart Wages War
Chapter 36 The Fading Map: A Race To The Gates
Chapter 37 The Castle Hidden In The Horizon: The Jump
Chapter 38 Memories Of A King: Path To The Well
Chapter 39 Seeking Wisdom: At The Bottom Of Knowledge
Chapter 40 Afoot The Path To Oralia: A Perilous Journey
About The Author
This work is dedicated to the One who made this all possible, who sits upon His throne and rules over all. This is also to all those who were supportive and have followed on this journey thus far. To my Mom—you have been one of my biggest fans from day one, and I am so grateful for your encouragement. Thank you.
image003.jpgCHAPTER 1
The Witch and the Oracle: Sign of the Great Star
The land was deserted on the outskirts of the Sea City. The cliffs, jagged and weatherworn, held strong against the winds that blew in from the east. The people inside the walls of this great city moseyed about, some having no idea that the long awaited prophesy had already begun to unravel. There was a storm coming, and none could stop it but the one who carried the serum that held the fate of all those who did dwell in this once safe place. No one could be trusted or told apart, friend from foe. There were treacherous spies even amongst them, for they kept a watchful eye for the wicked witch and evil king. None had yet discovered what great lengths they would go to, to retrieve the serum and rule the lands that boasted of freedom. The witch wanted all that was beautiful to be drawn to her so that she might consume all brightness and replace it with the dark plague in her heart, a plague that would leave the lands barren as far as the eye could bear to see. The journey that was underway was perilous and burdensome upon the shoulders of one young man. Indeed, the Stalker was the only one who could bear it. Bear it, truly, he did.
Klever trudged exhausted up the white sandy beach toward the foothills near the strange light-orange-bark trees to stay out of sight. Fogus had disappeared in the thick mist that dampened the brush almost a mile from the wall that protected the city. Perching Klever in a small tree proved easy. The fowl could see in the distance that there could be a chance for those who did lay in wait to attack the Stalker who held the serum close, but it was not of true concern. Fogus would not let them strike without a fight well fought. The Obdurate Errian knew that there was something or someone near but was uncertain of its alliance. So he watched most carefully.
Meanwhile, Dumago lingered in the thick bushes near the gates of the city to intercept the young man who sluggishly continued forward. It appeared that he was so tired that he did not know his way. He was visibly weak. The journey had not been gentle. There were scars upon his legs showing through his tattered clothing that told of his struggles and close calls. Klever was determined to endure, for he loved his sister, and he felt that she was more than enough reason for him to fight for his life, if not but to die for hers. Often, he had thought of how wonderful it would be if things had gone back to the way they were, before there was war, death, and sadness, but he knew it could never be. He clung to what hope he had that he would not fail. It did not matter that he was told that he would not, for he still had doubts. It was hard for him to believe what the Oracle had spoken at times when the heat bit and the unforgiving sun stung his eyes. He did not think clearly when the rain beat against his back with the wind pushing him to his limits.
He wondered why King Muglug allowed war at all. He thought about why there must be death and endless dying. It did not seem fair, for he had not known war before he had been separated from his beloved twin. Since then, the conflict advanced toward the path to war. There were many that sought after the potion that he carried. It was very important, powerful, you see, and magical. Should it fall into the wrong hands, the consequences would be gruesome. No one but the Lithyte Stalker of the prophecy could obtain it and wield it at its fullest potential. It was his duty to keep it safe and hidden away. Thus far he had done so with much diligence. So much fuss for such a small thing, he thought. Yet the life and survival of this world depended on the safe delivery of this transparent liquid that rocked so tranquilly in his arms, a defenseless babe. The responsibility was heavy. Klever began to feel the weight of it when ferocious sharks beneath the sea had almost eaten him. It was then that he realized how real this journey had become.
He imagined where Mernaline might have gone when they had departed from each other’s side. He was still smitten by her kiss. Maids of Mer were known for their deadly kiss, but hers was not like those in old wives’ tales. It bequeathed him a sense of hope that perhaps one day they would meet again and dance in the current of the sea. The thought of the mermaid occupied his mind quite oft. It was a welcome distraction from the journey that dragged on despite his weariness. He was tired, and his hunger made him weak as he reached for his canteen, for he was parched. It was down to the last few drops. Hiking during the day when the noonday sun was hot made his mouth dry like cotton flowers. Sometimes, they were seen on the hillside of mountains near the west or in the fields near St. Lostobeth. His lips peeled, revealing the sunburned red beneath. Klever had not much energy to spare, so he did not worry about it. He had not slept well for the space of two days and had not eaten much since he had left Mernaline behind at the seashore. He knew that he should not think of her too often, or he would become rather distracted. After all, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
Some days, it was a lost cause to say he should not think of the mermaid, for his mind wandered into many different pleasant thoughts. Just as he thought of how soft her lips were pressed against his, he was interrupted by a blur of shapes in the distance. Two tall figures seemed to wave vertically with the heat. Klever slowed his pace. The wind blew faint but did not cause comfort, for it was a warm breeze. At times, the path ahead began to haze, so he did not always trust his sight. It was well with him, on most occasions that he did not see anything, for there was usually nothing there to see.
I cannot tell if I see anything… my eyes may be playing cruel tricks upon me. I am so tired. Yes, then, I will resign to think that it could be but a figment of my imagination…
Holding the serum even closer in suspicion despite the words he had just spoken aloud, he could feel the liquid splashing about against his ribs. Squinting to see, he put his hand to his brow to get a better look and to shade himself from the sun that beamed bright and hot. When the figures had advanced closer, Klever’s heart dropped nearly into his belly! Blinking hard, he tried to focus as beads of sweat forced their way to the surface of his skin and burned his eyes with a salty sting. He was afraid, for he knew that even with just the two of them, he was outnumbered.
They are warluki! I do not see Dumago… it must be a trap! Just wonderful…a bloody trap!
His breathing began to get heavy. How have I managed to walk straight into them? They will seize the serum!
Klever panicked in his thoughts as he looked about for refuge.
I must not run. They will only give chase. I cannot escape them.
He paused to calm himself. I have not the strength to fight them off… no… perhaps I could hide it…
Klever searched as he began to perspire heavily.
He tried to appear calm, but surely they could smell his fear, for they picked up their pace to meet his. The trees were not dense enough to conceal his plan to hide the precious liquid. He had to act and quickly indeed, for he was out of time and in the open. They were upon him. Klever dropped to his knees as though he were being forcefully pulled to the ground. It bought him but a moment. The cowardly warluki became afraid by his sudden movement and drew back, slowing to a mere shuffle, watching him most carefully. He kept his back to them, and they became apprehensive of his mischief.
image005.jpgCHAPTER 2
The Purebreds Search:
The Abyss Just Beyond
Torian, the alpha male of the pack of two and thirty purebreds, and Barthone, his right-hand ruffian, watched from the foothills as the two warluki approached the Stalker just past the Sea City wall. There were only six miles between those who watched and the young man who made his way up the beach. Torian felt confident that it would not be long before the serum was at his disposal. Nothing else mattered to him, for he was in search of illimitable power. He would stop at nothing, for he had already lost all that he had ever loved. He held no remorse for the lives he had so ruthlessly slain, for in his many years, he had been witness to constant death.
The others in the pack had not the slightest fathoming of the malice that festered in his heart. Barthone, who was closest to him, grew steadily with unease as of late. He could see the eager greed that consummated Torian’s motives to destroy and conquer. Before the end of this war, Barthone would perhaps be the bridge to Torian’s fate. Indeed, he might be the one to bequeath the settlement that would satisfy all his acquired adversaries. For one of them, it would be death’s judgment. Who that would be would only be revealed after the swift passing of time. Barthone looked upon the disturbed warlord in grave distain masked with friendship’s kindly face.
Does Atoria know of him?
Barthone finally spoke. Doing so relieved his mind of the thoughts he pondered more oft. Torian recklessly commanded that they engross themselves on the path to combat to meet his own selfish means to an end, not caring for the fate of the others. The others were too afraid to confront him, but Barthone was determined to mitigate his uneasiness and contract answers. Torian sat upon a boulder plotting. His silence stifled Barthone. For a moment, he, in expectation, waited for his reply. When Torian said nothing for longer than Barthone could bear, he looked upon him to confirm he had received his words. Barthone knew that he must probe carefully, for Torian did not volunteer information nor did he openly seek it frequently but observed in cold silence. Always in silence, he was very secretive of his plans and mum concerning the matters of his heart. Barthone glared expectantly, for he did not like to be ignored. Torian could sense the rising of tension and attempted to make amends.
Even if she does, it does not matter. We could easily capture them both,
Torian finally replied though callous and detached. He was taciturn. The fact that he spoke of his sister whom he once fiercely loved and protected seemed to mean nothing to him now. His heart had become stony. Atoria had to leave. With her absent, it was hard to correct his path, for he had lost sight of his way. He suppressed his agony and spoke of it to no one. The unsocial brute peeled a branch from a nearby tree with a sharp claw as he crouched facing north. The branch was green underneath its coarse brownish-gray bark and smelled heavily of pine. His burly figure dominated the boulder above the others who paced anxiously in the brush beneath him. He had not bothered to look at the beast behind him. Barthone aggravated him, for he asked too many unwelcome questions. Barthone frowned at his back. He was rather disappointed.
We have beaten the others to the Stalkers trail…
Torian growled as Barthone took a step back and crossed his arms.
…It is certain there are others who seek the human. We cannot afford to compromise our position. We must be qui—
I am well aware of the risks!
Torian flashed his sharp teeth as he spun around and interrupted. Last time I checked, I am the leader of this pack. Know your place, or I shall be forced to remind you!
Barthone looked away. He could not risk a fight. Not yet.
I know there are others looking for him…indeed, your warnings are redundant.
Torian jumped from the rock he had been perched upon and began to pace in circles around Barthone. The purebred was on his guard as he turned slowly in silence and in nervous anticipation. Torian was unafraid to antagonize, for he had won a battle against Barthone once before. He was certain he could overthrow him yet again.
Indeed, I am surprised at how quickly he retrieved the serum. No doubt it was no easy task. Better him than me. But there is nothing that would surprise me now that we are so close. We will continue as planned!
Torian affirmed, grinning at the idea of Klever having done all the work to awaken the protector of the serum. He knew that he would not have been able to complete the task even if he had tried, for it was not designated for him to do as much. His brow tightened above his intense hazel eyes, for the thought angered him to silence.
Then I suppose all we have to do now is wait a bit longer,
Barthone submitted. Breaking the silence moments later, folding his arms tight across his chest and spreading his legs shoulder-width apart, he grinned. His yellow teeth appeared as fangs as his blackened lips parted slightly to release a satisfied grunt. He knew that he could not win a battle against Torian, but now that he had seen that Torian did not strike and was slow to react, it gave him courage. He had hoped for many years that he could replace him and lead the pack to great victories. But for now, he would lie in wait for the moment that was most opportune. Torian had become more irritable the further beyond the abyss they trekked. His demeanor was unkind and his mood unpredictable. They had battled when they were young, and Torian overthrew him on account of his strength, despite the heavy rain and thick mud. Barthone’s mind wandered into his memories when he was nearly startled to attention at the sound of Torian’s roar.
Keep your eyes open, you filthy mud rats! We have much to do before dawn,
Torian shouted behind him at the warluki who stood around talking of random things or slept lazily. It maddened him that they were so lazy at times, for he remembered a time when they hunted for days, never falling from their guard. He often wondered why they did not respect him like they did his father, but none of that would matter, he thought, if he could get his paws a hold of the serum. They would have to respect him then and obey him, for he would show them no mercy and would punish them severely. Torian thrived to be like his father, Nusma the Fierce. His father showed no mercy to those that proved defiant. Torian remembered, when he was just a pup, the humans had taken Nusma the Fierce captive. He never saw