17878265 (55 page)
Authors: David
David S. Wells: Writing Beyond Fantasy.
Apart from writing, Wells’ hobbies include running, reading and painting, along with
playing video games and watching sporting events. He has worked full-time in the retail industry, in his hometown, Warrenton, Missouri. He has also returned to St. Charles Community College to complete his Associates degree, with intent to pursue his Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. David S. Wells lives with his beautiful wife Barbara and their lovely children, Rebecca, Johnathan and Cassandra.
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Excerpt from The Fire of Kings
The Knight of Shimmermir and Taeglin could not tear his eyes from the bold new
spokesman of the Spirit Men. He looked on helplessly, while the self-appointed leader of Drachtabban roared out strange, carnal sounds. The newly ascended shaman repeated his wild cry.
Loric felt his heart drop like an anchor would, to stop him. He waved Warnyck and Barag past him. “Go on,” he urged them. “Leave this wood, swiftly now.” Yet, he was unable to join them. He was afraid and curious, so he hung precariously balanced atop the slope; watching and listening to the shaman recite a terrible new spell.
Warnyck and Barag rattled into descent on the other side of the long, rocky hillside. Loric backed toward the crest, hesitated on the brink, hung between fear of the unknown and the boldness of his bloodline.
“Loric, come on!” Warnyck cried.
Loric could not answer, could not act. Twisted saplings and thorny vines held his full attention. Those corrupted components began weaving together into a much larger and far more sinister singular being. The shaman and his priests increased the volume and tempo of their chant. Up the brambles climbed, into a torso of mesh atop tree-trunk legs. Higher still they rose, intertwining into a pair of enormous wings on the creature’s back, while the frenzied wail of the shaman soared the heights, and his priests wove their chants to hang upon his keening. With the ripening of the spell, they let off a unified roar,
“Injinctostch Drugongtostch!”
and the priests’
Invincible Dragon-God
was complete. Its gaping maw opened for a flick of its, thorn-ridden tongue of vine, as though to taste its birth on the air.
Down the hillside Loric went, with the image of that fearsome beast indelibly etched into his mind. He thought he heard Warnyck yelling from somewhere below him, but the dragon’s
deafening roar devoured all sound....
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Other Novels by David S. Wells
The Dragon Eyes Chronicles:
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