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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780692871676 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Lunameed Publishing |
| Publication date: | 07/11/2017 |
| Pages: | 440 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.89(d) |
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
A small village on the outskirts of the Arcadi Forest, Lunameed
The boy's shoulders shook as he brought down his ax upon the wood with a satisfying thunk. He smiled as the wood split apart and fell to the ground on opposite sides of the chopping block. I'm getting better at this, he thought as he set another log into place and brought his ax down once again. His muscles ached in the steady, tired way that indicated it was almost time for him to return home for the day. He wiped the sweat dripping down his brow with the back of his hand and admired the piles of wood that littered the ground before him. Winter was coming, and Kilian had no desire to freeze the way they had last year. The year his father had died. Shaking his head as if to remove the memories that haunted him, Kilian hoisted another log onto the block and readied himself to bring his ax down once more.
The sound of twigs snapping beneath the weight of something heavy drew his attention away from the waiting log. Crouching low and tucking his ax in tight, Kilian did what his father had always taught him to do. He hid. Waited. Breathed in. For one long, awful moment, Kilian listened for the sound of crunching twigs and horses' neighing. This would mean danger. If he heard children laughing, he would know that his younger brother and sister had come to collect him. His lungs burned as he continued to hold his breath. Just a few seconds more, he told himself as his eyes began to water, just a few seconds more.
Kilian let out the breath he had been holding in a great whoosh. Panting, he clutched his chest as he leaned forward and gulped in the cool, refreshing forest air. He could hear his blood pumping through his body with a loud thumping noise. Kilian froze. I'm making too much sound, he realized as he clamped his hand over his mouth and waited for a split second more. The sound of crunching twigs did not happen again. Despite his young age — he was only fifteen — Kilian's body moaned the way an old man's does after sitting for too long as he slowly made his way back to the chopping block.
"Why were you hiding from me, boy?" a gruff voice asked from somewhere behind him. Kilian spun around in a single motion, swinging his ax out as he went. The voice laughed a hearty, almost meaty, laugh. "Come now, me boy, did you really think that little ax would be the end of me?"
Kilian stopped mid-swing and looked at the man standing before him.
He was a tall man with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. He stood at least two hands higher than Kilian did, which was astonishing in and of itself considering Kilian towered over all the other men in his village. A giant sword was buckled to the man's belt, and he wore an oversized, double-breasted coat that reminded Kilian of the soldiers he'd seen marching through his village just the day before. Unlike the soldiers, though, the stranger wore his long hair in braids with metallic beads woven into them. The man's hair was the color of fresh seaweed, and Kilian found himself wondering if the man was a pirate.
He knew this was silly, of course. Kilian lived too far inland for there to be pirates roaming about the countryside. Still, there was an air about the man that gave Kilian the distinct impression that he had explored the Mitierian realm and, potentially, beyond. The idea burned inside Kilian's chest. There was nothing he wanted more than to travel the world and go on adventures.
But he couldn't. Not while his ma had to raise his younger brother and sister on her own. The three of them were all she had left.
"What's yer name, boy?" the man asked. Kilian looked up at the man in surprise. It took him a moment to realize that the man had been speaking to him. His cheeks burned as he realized he hadn't answered the man's first set of questions either. He must think I 'm either deaf or a dolt. Hopefully the first and not the latter, Kilian thought.
"Kilian, sir, Kilian Clearwater," his voice shook faintly as he spoke and Kilian sent a prayer to the Light that the man wouldn't take his hesitation to talk to him as fear.
The man eyed him for several moments before saying, "And where do ya live, Kilian Clearwater?"
Kilian raised one shaking hand and pointed in the direction of his village, "With my ma, sir. Down by the village. My sister, May, and brother, Willis, live with us."
Kilian clapped his hand over his mouth and stared at the man. He hadn't intended to tell the stranger about his siblings, but when he started talking about his family, he found that he couldn't stop. Magic, Kilian realized, the man was using magic. He felt the warmth drain from his face.
The man's smile stretched across his face the way a wolf s does when it's about to pounce. Kilian took a small, half-step back from where the man stood.
"There's no reason to be afraid," the man said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The man took a step forward, and Kilian caught a whiff of his scent. He smelled of smoke and salt water. Kilian wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"Who are you?" Kilian asked in a faltering voice.
The man bowed, "Sir Reginald Bluebeard at your service."
"Never heard of ya," Kilian narrowed his eyes at 'Sir Reginald Bluebeard' and waited for the man to explain himself.
"That's a mighty shame, it is. If ya had, you would have realized how famous I truly am."
"Is that so?" Kilian asked, his voice held the measure of the disbelief he felt. He hoped the man wouldn't be able to detect it.
"'Course it is," Sir Bluebeard bellowed, "I ain't but sailed the Forgotten Isles and met with the dragons."
Kilian snorted, "Everyone knows that dragons aren't real. They're just baby stories mothers tell their children to get them to mind them."
The man laughed a big, hearty laugh. It was the kind of laugh that had the power to make everyone who heard it laugh too.
And that's just what Kilian did.
He laughed until his sides hurt and his breath caught in his lungs. He laughed until his throat ached and his eyes watered with tears. He laughed until the man stopped laughing.
When he stopped, Kilian wasn't even sure why he'd been laughing in the first place.
"If dragons ain't real, then what is this?" the man asked as he pulled a large, sparkling piece of metal from the inside of his shirt. It was a dark golden color that seemed to suck in the sun's light.
Kilian stared at the hunk of metal. To him, it looked like nothing more than a large rock that had been polished to a smooth sheen. He shrugged at the man.
"No? You really don't know?" the man's voice held a note of disbelief as he regarded Kilian.
Kilian shook his head.
The larger man lunged towards him and clapped Kilian on the shoulder so quickly that Kilian barely saw the man move. The man's pungent odor filled his nostrils as he leaned in close to Kilian's ear and whispered, "Would you like to find out?"
Bluebeard's breath reeked of mureechi and apple ale. Kilian gagged a little as he breathed in. He hated the scent of mureechi. It reminded him too much of his father.
Bluebeard leaned away from Kilian and looked him straight in the eyes. They seemed to swim in a swirl of blues, grays, and greens. Kilian almost believed that he could get lost in them.
"Listen to me, boy," Bluebeard's voice came out in a low growl, "I'm in need of a new assistant, and you look like just the sort of whelp who needs a little adventure in his life."
"No, sir. I don't think that's me," Kilian's voice quivered slightly. He couldn't leave home. Not now. He wasn't sure if ever.
Bluebeard looked Kilian up and down. Kilian shifted his eyes away from the man. He did not like how Bluebeard's penetrating look made him feel as if he held no secrets. They stood like that for several moments in silence.
Finally, Bluebeard sighed heavily and said, "Tonight," before leaving Kilian to stand dumbfounded in the middle of the woods.
Kilian waited for several moments before picking up the pieces of chopped wood and dumping them into the small wheelbarrow. They had sold their horse, Nillie, at the end of the winter to purchase cornmeal and dried fruits from the smarmy tradesman his father had always told him to avoid. Kilian had wanted to wait until they could travel to the local market to do business with their neighbors. But his siblings had been hungry. Starving. Kilian still remembered how their bellies had swelled and their eyes had become dull and listless. He had vowed then that he would never let them go hungry again.
The rough handles of the wheelbarrow cut into Kilian's hands as he lugged the heavy load down the hill. He groaned a little but didn't let himself stop. His ma and siblings would be waiting for him, and Kilian knew that they would worry about him if he didn't return before dark. The sun was already setting as Kilian walked the last of the way home. The twin moons of Mitier rose into the pink sky as the sun slipped behind the dark outline of trees in the distance. Tendrils of smoke curled up from the small cottage Kilian shared with his family. He could see where the patch he had put on the roof was beginning to crumble again. I'll need to fix that again before the next rainfall, he thought. His siblings, May and Willis, flung the door open before Kilian had even opened their gate.
"Kilian! Kilian!" they shouted.
"You'll never believe who we met today!" May said in her high-pitched voice.
"He gave me this!" Willis exclaimed as he stuck out a long wooden sword for Kilian to inspect.
Knots wound their way around his belly like a noose around a criminal's neck. Still, he grasped the toy sword and waved it in the air a bit before returning it, hilt first, into his brother's hand. "That will do quite nicely, Will." He smiled half-heartedly as he stalked into the house.
The first thing Kilian noticed when he walked into the small cottage was the smell of pipe smoke. It filled the air with a hazy glow. His eyes instantly began burning, and he felt the need to sneeze. He didn't, thankfully.
The second thing Kilian noticed was the roasting goose hung across a bright fire in the hearth. His mother stood, her back to him at the long kitchen table his father had crafted. She moved her arms forward and backward in the natural motion of kneading bread. Kilian's stomach immediately tightened even more. They had not been able to afford the flour and salt necessary to make fresh-baked bread for the past six months.
He opened his mouth to speak when he noticed the third irregular thing: a man sitting in his father's chair.
Kilian raked his hand through his hair and stared at Sir Reginald Bluebeard. How did he know where I lived? Kilian thought as he stared at the man. He felt his jaw drop open but could do nothing to wipe the dumbfounded look off his face.
Bluebeard puffed on his pipe, seemingly ignorant of the fact that Kilian stood before him. He was reading one of the many books Kilian's father had collected. Despite being a highly-sought after blacksmith, his father had always taken the time to invest in his learning, and that of his children. A man only has one life, Kilian. It's important that he understand all there is to know about it. Never forget that, his father's voice rang in his thoughts.
Finally, Kilian stuttered, "H-how did you get here?"
"Well, the same as you, I suspect. I walked," Bluebeard spoke nonchalantly, and Kilian had the distinct impression that the man had been expecting Kilian to say those exact words.
At the sound of Kilian's voice, his mother turned; a brilliant smile stretched across her face.
"Kilian, isn't it wonderful?" she exclaimed as she held up a small quantity of dough for him to inspect. She beamed at him, and Kilian knew at that moment that he couldn't tell her exactly what he was thinking. He couldn't take away this moment of happiness from her.
"It is, Ma. It is." He smiled as he spoke, yet there was a tremor to his voice that seemed to belay his feelings of hesitation. She didn't seem to notice. She just turned around and began kneading the bread once more. Kilian sighed softly, but the sound was drowned out by his mother's joyful humming.
"We're going to eat bread tonight, Kilian!" May chirped as she rushed past him into the cottage. She danced around Bluebeard's — his father's — chair as she spoke. "Look, he's a pirate," she said as she flung her hands up in the air.
Willis followed behind May until they were both dancing around Bluebeard. They laughed and chanted old songs as they twirled around the man. Willis flung his toy sword around, occasionally bashing it into the stones of the hearth.
Bluebeard ignored them both. Instead, he stared straight into Kilian's eyes with such concentration that Kilian felt his cheeks burn. He had never had someone pay as much attention to him as the man was now.
Without breaking eye contact with the man, Kilian said, "Why are you here, Bluebeard?"
The man took one long drag from his pipe and blew and a ring of smoke towards Kilian's siblings. "Why, to collect you, of course."
Kilian rushed forward and placed himself between his siblings and Bluebeard. He held his arms out to stop them from dancing past him. They whimpered quietly but stayed behind their brother.
"I'm only going to tell you this once, Sir Reginald Bluebeard," Kilian attempted to infuse his words with as much contempt as possible to mask the fear caught in each syllable, "Leave us be."
Before Bluebeard could respond, Kilian's mother turned to face her children. She wiped sweat from her brow but left a smear of flour across her forehead. Tendrils of her gray hair had escaped the tight braid that hung behind her back and clung to her face where the sweat was the most prominent. Her large, soiled apron hugged her body tightly. Even months of starvation hadn't lessened her girth. Still, she was as beautiful to Kilian as the mermaids he had seen drawn in his father's books.
"You listen here, Kilian Clearwater, this man has brought us food, he's given your siblings toys, and he's been nothin' but kind to us. Whatever it is you're about to say to him, I suggest you don't. As far as I'm concerned, this man is welcome and we will listen to anything he has to say."
She stomped her foot for emphasis. Kilian hadn't been scolded by her like this since he'd been a child. He gulped. She pointed one long, thick finger at him and continued, "And if you can't accept that, then you'd better take your supper in the forge tonight." She placed her hands on her hips and stared at him. Her cheeks were flushed a ruddy red and Kilian found that he couldn't deny her. No matter how much he disagreed with her decisions, she was still his mother.
Kilian stood motionless for several moments as he listened to his mother's words. His sense of unease didn't lessen, but he knew that pushing this matter would be futile. In all his life, he had never seen his ma change her mind once she'd made her decision. And, apparently, she had made up her mind about Sir Reginald Bluebeard.
He nodded once, and his mother wiped her dirty hands on the already dirty apron before turning to push the unbaked bread into a small oven his father had crafted next to the hearth.
Kilian regarded Bluebeard. The man's lips were turned upward as he considered the interaction between mother and son. His expression did nothing to quell Kilian's distrust of him. Turning towards his siblings, Kilian knelt before them so that their faces were approximately at the same level.
"Why don't you go outside and play until supper is ready, eh?"
May's lips quivered as her eyes flicked towards Bluebeard, "B-but, I wanted ..."
"No buts, May. Not today," Kilian interrupted her. "Why don't you go catch starbugs? It's been such a long time since we've created the constellations with them."
Her eyes roamed the space between Kilian and Bluebeard, but eventually, she tugged on Willis's arm and began leading him out of the cottage. Her small voice could be heard in the doorframe as they exited the room, "C'mon Will, let's go catch the stars."
Once his siblings had left the room, Kilian sat down in the wooden rocking chair opposite Bluebeard. Bluebeard's eyes followed Kilian as he sank into the chair. Kilian's muscles were taut and sore from the day's work and the hard wood of the chair pressed into his tired body, but Kilian was thankful to be sitting. He looked at Bluebeard without speaking.
The older man blew smoke rings in Kilian's direction. They changed shape the closer they got to Kilian's face, and he realized that the smoke had taken the form of a lizard with giant wings. A dragon, Kilian realized. What is it with this man and dragons? Finally, Bluebeard snuffed out his pipe and placed it into a velvet bag with a drawstring closure.
"Never can be too careful with our most valued possessions, can we?" Bluebeard said as he patted the breast pocket where he'd placed the pipe. "We wouldn't want to lose what we value most."
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Kilian"
by .
Copyright © 2017 SA McClure.
Excerpted by permission of Lunameed Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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