The Elyrian Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Daniel Rowell

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher

  First published in the USA in November 2018

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments or events, is entirely coincidental.

  1st edition

  Cover art by BoBooks and Damonza

  ISBN-13:

  978-1729564622

  ISBN-10:

  1729564623

  Dedication

  To my mom, dad, and brother. I couldn’t ask for a more supportive family. Through my pursuits in music, school, and writing, they have continually encouraged me, and I’m grateful beyond words for it.

  To Ben Morgan, my favorite beta reader and best friend since 3rd grade. I’m grateful for all my beta readers, but I have to give a special shout out to this guy. His feedback and encouragement through the process is what sparked my final decision to not just write this series but also publish it.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Grandpa’s Secret

  Ace Halder had one more night to take his chance. All it would take was a bit of courage and a little curiosity. He fidgeted with his sheets. He twitched, squirmed, and kicked his feet as his brain wrestled his gut. What if it wasn’t worth it? What if it was? Grandpa’s knack for mystery had him reeling with anger.

  Is it a room full of ancient treasure? A key? A safe?

  What if it was something stupid like work documents or bills? If they caught him sneaking around, Julie and Tamara Peppercorn would wake everyone on the ship and do so with glee. He’d have nothing to show for it either. But if Grandpa’s secret was good—juicy—he could have the Peppercorns eating out of the palm of his hand.

  “Just tell us what it is, Ace!” He smiled wickedly at the thought of it. “C’mon. We’ll do anything! Anything!”

  Oh, Ace thought. Anything?

  Chores.

  Allowance.

  Ace’s heart leaped a hundred feet in the air. What did the Peppercorns get for allowance? Had to be upwards of a hundred credits a week. Uncle Marcus was the best basketball player on the Genesis Sabercats, and he was more than generous to his daughters. And wife. He had them spoiled rotten. So, on top of being filthy rich, the Peppercorns were fortunate enough to still have a dad and mom. They could use a lesson in living like a Halder. Ace and his brother, Cameron, didn’t have the power to give said lesson. But . . .

  Grandpa’s Secret.

  Now persuaded he take his chance, he rolled his sheets over his hammock and placed his feet on the damp surface. He listened to the ocean slap the side of the ship, watching his brother’s hammock above him rock gently in kind. He glanced to his left to find Julie and Tamara sound asleep in their hammock bunks. He lifted his legs and placed his feet on the damp floor of the deck. He thanked New Realm’s Age he had the bottom bunk. There would have been no way to sneak from the top one unnoticed. He stood and inched his way toward the door. The boy stepped on a loose wooden panel, and it creaked. He grit his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and lowered his head like a turtle retreating into its shell. One of his eyes crept open, the other followed. No one seemed to be disturbed. He sighed with relief.

  The boy stuck his hand forward and inched the door open, squeezing himself through the crack and into the hall leading to the Officer’s Meeting Room. From the open cannon deck behind him, the yellow moonlight lit splotches on the rippling windows in the door. Family pictures, ropes, and candles hung from the ratlines dangling on the hallway of dark wood. He squinted at the door to his left, where Grandpa and Grandma lay sound asleep. His heart pounded in his chest. He was all in now. No turning back.

  He looked back at the Officer’s Meeting Room and stepped quietly across the hall. The wood moaned, and the ship gently leaned one way, then the other. There was a tiny thud and creak with each of his steps.

  Maybe that’s why Grandpa picked an ancient Earth ship. To keep people from sneaking.

  It was a curious thing. With all the money Grandpa had from something he called “investing,” he could’ve bought a ten-million-credit yacht. Why pick a rickety ship from some ancient world? Ace recalled the day Grandpa had bought the ship. Amongst the dozens of hover craft yachts with expensive accessories, Grandpa walked straight to the ship with stained sails and rotting wood.

  “It’s full of rich history, Ace!” Grandpa had said. “What if it belonged to pirates before? That’d be exciting, wouldn’t it?”

  Ace hadn’t thought so. He preferred hologram TVs and luxury furniture. Instead, yearly vacations with Grandpa consisted of swabbing the deck and various carpentry tasks disguised as “arts and crafts.” In all of which the Peppercorns consistently outperformed him and his brother. Ace snapped back to the moment. This was the last day of vacation. The last chance to see if he could uncover Grandpa’s secret. The last chance to have something over the Peppercorns.

  He was only a few steps away when he fell to the ground as the stern leaned to conquer a small wave. It tilted just enough to catch him off guard and send him tumbling across the deck. His back smacked against the very door he sought to break into. The ship splashed back in the water and calmed once again. Ace sat wide-eyed, back against the door, facing the open cannon deck lit well by the full yellow moon. He anticipated Grandma Martha opening the hall to the Captain’s Quarters and preparing him for a whipping. It would be the end of him. But seconds later, the gentle sea was all he heard. He swallowed a lump in his throat and stood to his feet.

  His knees wobbled as he regained his composure. When he turned around to face the door, he noticed something strange.

  There’s no lock.

  Where had the lock gone? Had Grandpa removed his secret? Ace hadn’t imagined one from before, had he? Of course not. He for sure saw it the first day they had set sail. As always, the grandchildren had rushed to see the ship the minute they arrived at Grandpa and Grandma’s house. Ace had been the first one to head for the Officer’s Meeting Room when he noticed the lock on the door.

  “Oh, no, no, no,” Grandpa Marty had said, his wrinkly hand fastened tightly around Ace’s wrist.

  “Why’s there a lock, Grandpa?”

  “I have a . . .” Grandpa swallowed and scratched his head. “Secret . . . young man. Not for my grandchildren’s eyes. I will have to take care of it when we return.”

  His eyes threw Ace in for a loop; the eyes of an old, worried soul. Too worried.

  Ace turned the door handle and went inside. Had this all been for naught? Had Grandpa already gotten rid of whatever it was he didn’t want Ace to see?

  He nervously looked around the room. How could he be so dumb? The moonlight hardly shone through the rippling windows with not the slightest effect on the pitch darkness. Should’ve brought a flashlight. There had to be one around there somewhere. He stumbled around, nearly tripping, but caught himself.

  A blinding white light blared in his eyes.

  “Ahh!” He jumped back in a fright and fell to the deck. Knocking down a few chairs on the way in a ruckus; sounding his doom. An old man’s laugh rumbled in the dark with a frightening familiarity. Grandpa Marty caught him red handed. Beads of sweat formed at his hairline and rolled along his face. Terrible warmth flooded his body as his mind sifted through the possible outcomes. Would he be forced now to do all the chores while Julie and Tamara laughed at him?

  “Looking for this?” Grandpa Marty said, wiggling the flashlight and trying to cont
ain his laughter.

  “Oh! Uh!” Ace covered his eyes from the blinding light. “Grandpa, I can explain. I was—uh—”

  “Calm down, Ace of Spades.” The old man’s tone seemed strangely playful. “I knew you would sneak in here the minute I told you I had a secret.”

  Ace’s insides exploded. “But, I wasn’t—”

  “Oh, spare me, son. I know you better than you know the back of your hand.”

  Grandpa clicked the flashlight off. Ace stared wordlessly through the dark. No point trying to weasel his way out of this one. The old man had him pegged.

  “I told you there was a secret,” Grandpa said, “so you would sneak out here. And I have to say, I’m surprised it took you so long. Learning to control your impulses is a part of growing up, I guess. Too bad . . . those impulses will come in handy later.”

  “What? Why would you want me to sneak into your meeting room, Grandpa?”

  “Because,” Grandpa’s peach fuzz head cast a round shadow from the timid moonlight outside the windows. The floor croaked as he stepped forward. “The secret is for you, Ace. Not for Cameron, and definitely not for the Peppercorns.”

  Ace stood to his feet with a wide smile. Something about hearing Grandpa speak ill of the Peppercorns made his heart leap. Not to mention, Grandpa Marty had a secret to share with him. Just him. Like he was Grandpa’s first mate!

  “What secret, Grandpa?”

  The old man stepped forward again and slowly reached his arm around Ace’s back. A beam of white light followed the sound of a click. Grandpa shone the flashlight on an ancient Earth Safe Box. Made of wood, about the size of a large book. The light reflected off its golden edges running along the sides and over its arched roof. Ace had seen one of those safe boxes before. He heard Grandpa call it a treasure chest once. Something ancient man used to lock away valuable items. An energy about it fascinated him. The world around him fell dark and silent. As if only he and the chest were in the room.

  “Only someone who would dare to sneak around Marty Halder’s ship has the guts needed for this task,” Grandpa said. Hearing his voice startled Ace back to reality.

  “Wh—" Ace coughed and swallowed, “What task?”

  Grandpa gently nudged him as they walked to the chest, then pulled his shirt sleeve back to reveal a matte black watch. “Now, Ace,” he said, “what I’m about to show you is sacred. Rumors of its existence have flocked about Yutara since creation. You must swear to me, before I open this chest, not a word of this will escape your lips.”

  Ace’s eyes widened. Grandpa’s adventurous spirit didn’t surprise him, but his eyes told of an uncertainty the boy had never seen before. Whatever lay in the chest had no part in legend or myth. Something authentic stirred the air, and the mystery of it persuaded Ace to ignore his reservations.

  “I swear, Grandpa.”

  Grandpa smiled, twisted the top of his watch, and placed his thumb on the ticking surface. Two timid lights blinked from the chest, following a sound like a thunk, and the lock snapped free. Dust pockets formed, and dirt crumbled to the ground as he lifted the top of the chest open. Ace’s pulse beat faster. Beams of red and violet shone dimly behind a gray cloth in the chest. Ace’s jaw dropped, and he brought his hands to his cheeks. Grandpa reached in, picked up the cloth, and held it before his grandson’s eyes.

  “Is that . . . ? ” Ace said.

  “Behold,” Grandpa pulled the cloth from his hand. Bright white lights swirled on the inside of the deep red gem in the old man’s palm; its rays of rose and violet kindling every corner of the room with wonder. “The Emerson Stone,” Grandpa said.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Stick Together

  “Grandpa!” Ace forgot his need to breathe. “Wh—I mean—how—The Emerson Stone?”

  “Shh! Quiet now!” Grandpa said. He threw the cloth back over the stone and darkness took the room again. He frantically put the stone in the chest and locked it. “You knowing I have it is already dangerous enough. You’re about to wake up the entire crew!”

  “Where did you get that stone? And why are you telling me this?” Ace asked.

  “I. . .” Grandpa scratched his chin, “it was a gift. Let’s just leave it there.” His eyes squinted with a hint of suspicion. “And I’m telling you this, because you’ve been chosen.”

  “Chosen for what?”

  “To be the stone’s keeper. To fight the power of the seventh realm with an even greater power.”

  Ace opened his mouth, then closed it. He repeated this a couple times until he decided which of questions flying through his brain he wanted to ask first. “What? But the seventh realm is a myth.”

  “That’s what I thought too. But I have reason to believe otherwise.”

  “What reason?”

  Grandpa leaned in to Ace’s ear. “A map.”

  “A map? So, I’m going to the seventh realm?”

  Grandpa rubbed his head. “That’s a good question. I think it’s a mixture of yes and no.” He shook his head and wagged his hand. “No matter. The point is, you will be the stone’s keeper soon, and the seventh realm will be woken to it.”

  Ace quarreled with his adventurous nature. It sounded like one of Grandpa’s stories. The boy’s mind split into three pieces: one believed Grandpa was telling a story and had taken his method acting to a new extreme, the other believed the old man had finally gone insane, and the final believed it to be true, but didn’t trust his twelve-year-old self to perform the task.

  “But . . . why me?”

  “Haven’t I told you? You’re gutsy, determined, and you won’t stop searching until you find the answer. What else would compel you to sneak into my Meeting Room? You know how bad Grandma’s whippings hurt.”

  Ace stood baffled. The past few years on Grandpa’s over sea trips had made him feel much less than how Grandpa described him. The Peppercorns finished their chores first. They beat him and Cameron in every family game. They were richer, more talented, better looking. Grandpa made a mistake.

  “I am? But—I mean—the Peppercorns—”

  “The Peppercorns don’t matter right now,” Grandpa said, cutting down Ace’s words like a razor. “You’ve been chosen for this. Forget everything else. Julie and Tamara will just have to deal with it.”

  Ace’s heart couldn’t decide whether to leap or fall. He only settled on trusting Grandpa.

  “Okay, Grandpa. So, are you just going to give me the map and send me away? Or . . . how is this supposed to work?”

  The old man laughed. Ace thought a lot of old people sounded like they had mountains of phlegm and mucus gathered in their throat when they laughed. But not Grandpa. His laugh was smooth, lighthearted, and could bring joy to the most broken spirits.

  “You have been chosen to lead your family. Not leave them. You are to protect them. But defeating the seventh realm is a task great and far. You will conquer many trials before reaching this place,” Grandpa said.

  “Do you mean that I am . . .” Ace paused, unsure whether this question was appropriate or not, “in charge of the rest of the family?”

  Grandpa nodded. “You will be. But you must understand that leading your family is serving your family. Until you understand this, you will be in charge of nothing but your imagination.”

  Ace had no words. After all the years of the Halders being one step behind the Peppercorns, they were finally one step ahead. And not just the Halders, but Ace. The youngest and least talented.

  “But, Grandpa. I don’t even know how to get to school. Mom and Dad still drive me. And you want me to go to the seventh realm? Until just now, I thought it was a myth. And, I’ve never even used a map before . . . How will I know how to read it?” Ace said.

  “When it’s time, you will find your way,” Grandpa said. “I wish that I could tell you more than this, but the way the Emerson Stone chooses to operate is out of my control. But listen close. When the map is revealed to you, you may not even know it, but the stone will then become yours.”<
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  Ace didn’t pretend to understand what Grandpa said. Had the old man lost his mind? Was Ace dreaming? He scratched his head as an orange glow slithered through the rippling windows. The tip of the sun had just breached the horizon; dawn was approaching.

  “For now,” Grandpa said, “Go back to sleep with the rest of the grandchildren. You will find out more soon enough.”

  Ace nodded. Best to get back to the sleeping quarters before the others grew suspicious. He turned back down the hall; a fresh perspective in his mind as he crept his way back across the deck. He had expected to find some treasure, or ancient artifact, or maybe some Earth weapon; but, the Emerson Stone? No way. The thought of it dizzied him. The Emerson Stone only existed in Yutarian myth. Some spoke of its magical power to grant wishes. Others said it to be a weapon, and any country possessing it would become Yutara’s next world power. Ace enjoyed most the stories of which the stone held the source of all light in Yutara and destroying it would bring eternal darkness to the seven realms. All differences aside, each rumor agreed on one thing: the witches of Yutara wanted the Emerson Stone and would do anything to get it.

  Pfft. Witches? Actual witches?

  Did Grandpa actually have the Emerson Stone? Maybe Grandpa tricked him. Tried to teach Ace a lesson or something, right? It wouldn’t be unlike him.

  He stumbled on the door leading to his bed. He pushed it ajar, squeezing his way through quickly as possible. He didn’t want the morning sun waking the others. Especially with Julie and Tamara sleeping right by the door. To his misfortune, he wasn’t sneaky enough.

  “Hey,” Julie said, wiping her eyes, “What are you doing, Ace?”

  Her voice whined enough to wake everyone up. Cameron and Tamara moaned and groaned in their waking as they sat from their hammocks.

  “I just—uh—had to go to the bathroom,” said Ace.

  Julie squinted and stood from her hammock. “No, you were sneaking around, weren’t you? I can tell by the look on your face.”