A Sky of Spells (Book #9 in the Sorcerer's Ring)
Read A Sky of Spells (Book #9 in the Sorcerer's Ring) Online
Authors: Morgan Rice
A
S K Y
O F
S P E L L S
(Book #9 in the Sorcerer’s
Ring)
Morgan Rice
About Morgan Rice
Morgan
Rice is the #1 Bestselling author of THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS, a young adult series
comprising eight books, which has been translated into six languages.
Morgan
is also author of the #1 Bestselling THE VAMPIRE LEGACY, a young adult series
comprising two books and counting.
Morgan
is also author of the #1 Bestselling ARENA ONE and ARENA TWO, the first two
books in THE SURVIVAL TRILOGY, a post-apocalyptic action thriller set in the
future.
Morgan
is also author of the #1 Bestselling epic fantasy series THE SORCERER’S RING,
comprising nine books and counting.
Morgan
loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit
www.morganricebooks.com
to stay in
touch.
Select Acclaim for Morgan Rice
“Grabbed
my attention from the beginning and did not let go….This story is an amazing
adventure that is fast paced and action packed from the very beginning. There
is not a dull moment to be found.”
--Paranormal
Romance Guild {regarding
Turned
}
“An
ideal story for young readers. Morgan Rice did a good job spinning an
interesting twist…Refreshing and unique, has the classic elements found in many
Young Adult paranormal stories. Easy to read but extremely
fast-paced....Recommended for anyone who likes to read soft paranormal
romances. Rated PG.”
--The
Romance Reviews (regarding
Turned
)
“Jam
packed with action, romance, adventure, and suspense. Get your hands on this
one and fall in love all over again.”
--vampirebooksite.com
(regarding
Turned
)
“A
great plot, and this especially was the kind of book you will have trouble
putting down at night. The ending was a cliffhanger that was so spectacular
that you will immediately want to buy the next book, just to see what happens.”
--The
Dallas Examiner {regarding
Loved
}
“Morgan
Rice proves herself again to be an extremely talented storyteller….This would
appeal to a wide range of audiences, including younger fans of the
vampire/fantasy genre. It ended with an unexpected cliffhanger that leaves you
shocked.”
--The
Romance Reviews {regarding
Loved
}
Books by Morgan Rice
THE SORCERER’S RING
A QUEST OF
HEROES (Book #1)
A MARCH OF KINGS (Book #2)
A FEAST OF DRAGONS (Book #3)
A CLASH OF HONOR (Book #4)
A VOW OF GLORY (Book #5)
A CHARGE OF VALOR (Book #6)
A RITE OF SWORDS (Book #7)
A GRANT OF ARMS (Book #8)
A SKY OF SPELLS (Book #9)
THE SURVIVAL TRILOGY
ARENA ONE: SLAVERSUNNERS (Book #1)
ARENA TWO (Book #2)
THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS
TURNED (Book #1)
LOVED (Book #2)
BETRAYED (Book #3)
DESTINED (Book #4)
DESIRED (Book #5)
BETROTHED (Book #6)
VOWED (Book #7)
FOUND (Book #8)
THE VAMPIRE LEGACY
RESURRECTED (Book #1)
CRAVED (Book #2)
Copyright
© 2013 by Morgan Rice
All
rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no
part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any
form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the
prior permission of the author.
This
ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for
your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for
respecting the hard work of this author.
This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places,
events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are
used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
CONTENTS
“
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
for he today that sheds his blood with me
shall be my brother.
”
--William Shakespeare
Henry V
Thor faced Gwendolyn, holding
his sword at his side, his entire body trembling. He looked out and saw all the
faces staring back at him in the stunned silence—Alistair, Erec, Kendrick,
Steffen, and a host of his countrymen—people he had known and loved.
His
people. Yet here he was, facing them, sword at his side. He was on the wrong
side of battle.
Finally, he realized.
Thor’s veil had lifted as Alistair’s
words rang through him, filled him with clarity. He was Thorgrin. A member of
the Legion. A member of the Western Kingdom of the Ring. He was not a solider
for the Empire. He did not love his father. He loved all these people.
Most of all, he loved
Gwendolyn.
Thor looked down and saw her
face, staring up at him with such love, her eyes tearing. He was filled with shame
and horror to realize he was facing her, holding this sword. His palms burned
with humiliation and regret.
Thor dropped the sword,
letting it fall from his hands. He took a step forward and embraced her.
Gwendolyn hugged him back
tightly, and he heard her crying, felt her hot tears pouring down his neck. Thor
was overwhelmed with remorse, and he could not conceive how it had all
happened. It was a blur. All he knew was that he was happy to be back to himself,
to have clarity, and to be back with his people.
“I love you,” she whispered
into his ear. “And I always will.”
“I love you with everything
that I am,” Thor replied.
Krohn whined at his feet, limping
over and licking Thor’s palm; Thor leaned down and kissed his face.
“I’m sorry,” Thor said to
him, remembering hitting him as Krohn had defended Gwendolyn. “Please forgive
me.”
The earth, quaking violently
but moments before, finally became still again.
“THORGRIN!” a shriek cut
through the air.
Thor turned to see
Andronicus. He stepped forward, into the clearing, scowling, his face red with
rage. Both armies watched in stunned silence, as father and son faced each
other.
“I
command
you!”
Andronicus said. “Kill them! Kill them all! I am your father. You listen to me,
and to me alone!”
But this time, as Thor
stared back at Andronicus, something felt different. Something shifted inside.
No longer did Thor view Andronicus as his father, as a family member, as
someone he must answer to and give his life for; instead, he saw him as a foe. A
monster. Thor no longer felt any obligation to give up his life for this man. On
the contrary: he felt a burning rage against him. Here was the man who had
ordered the attack on Gwendolyn; here was the man who had killed his fellow
countrymen, who had invaded and ransacked his homeland; here was the man who
had taken over his own mind, who had held him hostage with his dark sorcery.
This was not a man he loved.
Rather, this was a man he wanted to kill more than anything on earth. Father or
not.
Thor suddenly felt himself flood
with rage. He reached down, picked up his sword, and charged full speed across
the clearing, ready to kill his father.
Andronicus looked shocked as
Thor charged, raised his sword high, and as Thor brought it down with both
hands, with all his might, for his head.
Andronicus raised his huge
battle axe at the last second, turning it sideways and blocking the blow with its
metal shaft.
Thor did not relent: he
swung his sword again and again, going for the kill, and each time Andronicus raised
his axe and blocking it. The great clang of the two weapons meeting rang
through the air as both armies watched in silence. Sparks flew with each blow.
Thor screamed and grunted, using
every skill he had, hoping to kill his father on the spot. He had to do it, for
himself, for Gwendolyn, for all those who had suffered by this monster’s hand.
With each blow, Thor wanted, more than anything, to wipe out his lineage, his
own background, to start fresh again. To choose a different father.
Andronicus, on the defense,
only blocked Thor’s blows, and did not fight back. Clearly, he was refraining
from attacking his son.
“Thorgrin!” Andronicus said,
between blows. “You are my son. I do not wish to harm you. I am your father. You
have saved my life. I want you alive.”
“And I want you dead!” Thor
screamed back.
Thor swung down again and
again, driving him back, across the clearing, despite Andronicus’ great size
and strength. Yet still, Andronicus would not swing back at Thor. It was as if
he was hoping that Thor would come back to him again.
But this time, Thor would
not. Now, finally, Thor knew who he was. Finally, Andronicus’ words were free
from his head. Thor would rather be dead than at Andronicus’s mercy again.
“Thorgrin, you must stop
this!” Andronicus cried out. Sparks flew by his face as he blocked a
particularly vicious slash with his axe head. “You will force me to kill you,
and I do not wish to. You are my son. To kill you would be to kill myself.”
“Then kill yourself!” Thor said.
“Or if you do not wish to, then I shall do it for you!”
With a great cry Thor leapt
up and kicked Andronicus with both feet in the chest, sending him stumbling and
landing on his back.
Andronicus looked up, as if
stunned that could have happened.
Thor stood over him and
raised his sword high to finish him off.
“NO!” shrieked a voice. It
was an awful voice, sounding like it erupted from the very depths of hell, and
Thor glanced over to see a single man enter the clearing. He wore a long scarlet
robe, his face hidden behind a hood, and an unearthly growl erupted from his
throat.
Rafi.
Somehow, Rafi had made it
back from his battle with Argon. He stood there now, holding both arms out wide
at his sides. His sleeves fell as he rose his arms, revealing pale, blistery
skin that looked as if it had never seen the sun. He emitted an awful sound
from the back of his throat, like a snarl, and as he opened his mouth wide, it
grew louder and louder until it filled the air, the low timber vibrating and
making Thor’s ears hurt.
The earth began to quake.
Thor was knocked off-balance as the entire ground shook. He followed Rafi’s
hands and saw before him a sight he would never forget.
The earth began to split in
two, a great chasm opening, spreading wider and wider. As it did, soldiers from
both sides fell, slipping down, screaming as they hurled down into the
ever-growing crevice.
An orange glow emitted from
beneath the earth, and there came an awful hissing noise as steam and fog arose.
There appeared a single hand,
emerging from the crevice, gripping the earth. The hand was black, lumpy,
disfigured, and as it pulled itself up, Thor, to his horror, saw emerging from
the earth an awful creature. It was in the shape of a human, but it was
entirely black, with large glowing red eyes and long red fangs. A long, black
tail dragged behind it. Its body was lumpy, and it looked like a corpse.
It leaned back its head and
there came an awful roar, like Rafi’s. It appeared to be some sort of undead
creature, summoned from the depths of the hell.
Behind this creature there
suddenly emerged another. Then another.
Thousands more of these
creatures surfaced, pulling themselves up from the bowels of hell, an army of
undead. Rafi’s army.
Slowly, they came to Rafi’s
side, facing Thorgrin and the others.
Thor stared back in shock at
this army facing him; as he stood there, his sword still held high, Andronicus
suddenly rolled out from under him and retreated back to his army, clearly not
wanting to have to confront Thorgrin.
Suddenly, the thousands of
creatures rushed towards Thor, flooding the clearing, coming to kill Thor and all
of his people.
Thor snapped out of it and
raised his sword high as the first creature leapt for him, snarling, claws
extended. Thor sidestepped, swung his sword, and chopped off its head. It
stumbled to the ground, unmoving, and Thor braced himself for the next one.
These creatures were strong
and fast, but one on one, they were no match for Thor and the skilled warriors
of the Ring. Thor fought them deftly, killing them left and right. Yet the
question was, how many could he could fight at once? He was flooded by
thousands of them, from all directions, as was everyone around him.
Thor fell in beside Erec,
Kendrick, Srog and the others, each fighting beside each other, watching each
other’s backs as they swung left and right, taking out two and three creatures
at a time. One of them slipped by, grabbed Thor’s arm and scratched it, drawing
blood, and Thor cried out in pain, swung around and stabbed in the heart,
killing it. Thor was a superior fighter, but his arm already throbbed, and he
didn’t know how long it would be until these creatures took their toll.
First and foremost in his
mind, though, was getting Gwendolyn to safety.
“Get her to the back!” Thor
shrieked, grabbing Steffen, who was fighting with a monster, and shoving him to
Gwen. “NOW!”
Steffen grabbed Gwen and
dragged her away, back through the army of soldiers, distancing her from the
beasts.
“NO!” Gwen screamed,
protesting. “I want to be here with you!”
But Steffen listened dutifully,
dragging her back to the rear flank of the battle, protecting her behind the
thousands of MacGils and Silver who valiantly stood there and fought back the
creatures. Thor, seeing her safe, was relieved, and he turned back and threw
himself into the fight with the undead.
Thor tried to summon his
Druid power, to fight with his spirit along with his sword; but for some
reason, he could not. He was too exhausted from his experience with Andronicus,
from Rafi’s mind control, and his power needed more time to heal. He had to
fight with conventional weapons.
Alistair stepped forward, by
Thor’s side, raised a palm, and directed it at the crowd of undead. A ball of
light emanated from it, and she killed several creatures at once.
She raised both palms
repeatedly, killing creatures all around her, and as she did, Thor felt
inspired, his sister’s energy infusing him. He tried once again to summon some
other part of himself, to fight not only with his sword, but with his mind, his
spirit. As the next creature approached he raised a palm and tried to summon
the wind.
Thor felt the wind rush
through his palm, and suddenly, a dozen creatures went flying through the air, the
wind driving them, howling as they tumbled back into the crevice in the earth.
Kendrick, Erec and the
others, beside Thor, fought valiantly, each killing dozens of creatures, as did
all their men around them, letting out a battle cry, as they fought with all
they had. The Empire army sat back and let Rafi’s army of undead fight for
them, let them weary Thor’s men. It was working.
Soon, Thor’s men, exhausted,
were swinging more slowly. And yet the undead never stopped pouring out from
the earth, a never-ending stream.
Thor found himself breathing
hard, as were the others. The undead were starting to break through their ranks,
and his men were beginning to fall. There were just too many. All around Thor
there arose his men’s screams as the undead pinned them down, sinking their
fangs into the soldiers’ throats and sucking out their blood. With each soldier
a creature killed, the undead seemed to grow stronger.
Thor knew they had to do
something fast. They needed to summon a tremendous power to counteract this, a
power stronger than he or Alistair had.
“Argon!” Thor suddenly said
to Alistair. “Where is he? We must find him!”
Thor looked over and saw Alistair
getting tired, her strength waning; a beast slipped past her, backhanded her, and
she fell, screaming. As the beast leapt on top of her, Thor stepped forward and
thrust his sword through the creature’s back, saving her at the last second.
Thor reached out a hand and
yanked her quickly to her feet.
“Argon!” Thor screamed. “He’s
our only hope. You must find him. Now!”
Alistair gave him a knowing
look, and raced into the crowd.
A creature slipped by, his
claws plunging for Thor’s throat, and Krohn rushed forward and leapt up on it,
snarling, pinning it down to the earth. Another creature then plunged onto
Krohn’s back, and Thor slashed it, killing it.
Another creature jumped onto
Erec’s back, and Thor rushed forward, pried it off, grabbed it with both hands
lifted it high overhead and hurled it into several other creatures, knocking
them down. Another beast charged for Kendrick, who did not see it coming, and Thor
took his dagger and stabbed it in the throat, right before it sank its fangs into
Kendrick’s shoulder. Thor felt that this was the least he could do to begin to make
up for facing off against Erec and Kendrick and all the others. It felt good to
be fighting on their side again, on the right side; it felt good to know who he
was again, and to know who he was fighting for.