"An absolutely stunning fantasy book! Gripping from the beginning, it develops with a fine pace [...] developed characters meet vivid descriptions and a twisted plot that keeps you turning the pages...an enthralling start to a promising new series!" Meenaz L., Goodreads
Published: December 13th, 2019
Deep under the city of Phanos, the crypts are filled with monsters. Dungeon Corps works hard to contain them.
Recruited from prisons, outcasts, misfits, those expelled from academies and even rare volunteers, Dungeon Corps produces outstanding fighters.
When an ancient threat troubles the Queen’s Land once more, a grizzled veteran leads his young team down into the depths to rescue the lost and slay a horror known as Ludge.
But two on his team hold closer ties to the monster than anyone realizes. They are elves, running from assassins tracking them relentlessly since birth.
Ludge should have died 50 years ago. Now it’s up to the team to finish the job. In doing so, they uncover startling secrets known only to a chosen few.
They discover the elves’ forbidden existence and their raw untapped power can reshape the world.
If they survive.
EXCERPT
“Careful. Watch your step.”
Missan waved her hand gently in front of her group and ghostly
runes floated in the air, suddenly visible. They formed a pattern in the
narrowest part of the hall facing them, obstacle wraiths promising death for
those touching them.
Missan carefully walked between the runes, making certain her
dark purple robe and hood did not touch any.
She turned when she made it to the other side, and waited for
her team. Jeffers the ranger came next, easily walking between the traps. He
was followed by Deena, their archer and cleric.
Dratchet the half-dwarf was clumsiest, for all his abilities
with a battle-axe. Everyone held their breath while he worked his way
laboriously through the traps.
Finally Choster walked through, after giving a final look back
at the passage they had just passed.
Choster was a vampire, and a swordmaster. Many Dungeon Corps
groups shunned his kind, but Missan and the others accepted him. He had saved
them more than once with his unique set of skills
Choster jumped into high speed and blurred through the traps in
the blink of an eye.
Missan said, “Someday I need you to teach me how to do that,
Choster.”
He smiled at her, fangs showing between his pale red lips.
He said, “You know my price.”
She shuddered involuntarily, then turned to lead the way forward
as the passageway grew wider.
Deena sidled up next to her and confided in a low voice.
“He doesn’t take much blood. He just likes a sip to see what you
taste like.”
Missan shuddered again. She said, “Was it worth it for what he
taught you?”
The other woman nodded firmly.
“Yes. It’s a different kind of invisibility. It’s like . . .
becoming a shadow. You merge into the surrounding darkness. And it’s
undetectable by other mages who are on the lookout for Invisibility.”
Missan grunted in acknowledgment. The Shadow spell did sound
interesting, and useful. But she really wanted Choster’s quickness spell. What
did he call it? Enhanced Motion? Whatever it was, he had assured her she had
the capability to learn it. All he asked in return was a taste of her blood. So
far, her revulsion had kept her from acquiescing to his deal. But when he
showed it off in front of her, it seemed so useful. She had to admit, she was
tempted.
They came to set of large double doors. They were at least 12
feet tall and half again as wide. Two large brass rings nestled together in the
center.
Missan and Choster exchanged glances. He raised a dark eyebrow
at her, questioning.
She said, “Wait. Let me see if I can sense anything,
first.”
Dratchet moved to her right and pulled his axe from the sling on
his back. He bent his knees, crouching into a fighting position.
Choster moved to her left and held his palms out, preparing a
defensive spell. Jeffers pulled out his enchanted sword, activating a group
shield, while Deena stayed in the back, preparing a healing spell for all of
them.
The simple act of “looking” into a room could trigger a variety
of traps, alert monsters or let enemies know of their presence.
But Missan’s group had fought together for years with the
Dungeon Corps. Choster was the newest member, and he had been with them several
months. The team moved smoothly, anticipating one another’s actions.
Missan held her hands out and cast the spell while the others
tensed. If whatever was behind the door could detect the spell, it might well
burst through and attack.
Missan said, “I sense . . . a large room, 1000 feet square. Tall
ceiling, 30 feet high. Several corridors branching off in other directions. And
in the center of the room . . . a little boy?”
Deena frowned behind her, her protection spell forgotten.
She said, “A little boy? Are you sure?”
Missan nodded, concentrating. She said, “He seems . . . he seems
to be waiting for us. He’s looking right at the door.”
“What in the world is a little boy doing down here?” Jeffers
said, turning his scarred face toward her. “Is he human? Elven?”
“He’s human. I don’t know what he’s doing here. It doesn’t make
sense. This is a newly discovered dungeon, there shouldn’t be anybody here,
much less children.”
“He’s a gheist,” Dratchet said, confidently. He set the huge axe
on the floor head first, holding the handle’s end lightly.
Missan shook her head. “I don’t sense a spirit. This is a boy.
In the flesh.”
Choster said, “I’ll go take a look.”
Before anyone could object he turned into black mist and quickly
flowed to the floor, then under the doors.
The other four looked at one another. Dratchet picked up his axe
again and the spell casters resumed preparing to cast.
The doors opened suddenly, screeching on unoiled hinges, making
them jump. Choster smiled at them, flashing his fangs.
“Come on in. It’s safe, I think.”
They approached the door with trepidation. Inside, in the center
of the large room, a young boy of perhaps ten or eleven years of age stared at
them. He wore bronze chainmail that had been made for dwarves, and carried a
shield painted green with a white boss in the middle. At his side he carried a
steel short sword.
The Dungeon Corps team looked at him in astonishment.
Jeffers said, “I did not expect him to be armed.”
“Who are you?” Deena said.
Missan said, “What are you doing here?”
The little boy addressed them, showing not an ounce of fear or
concern.
He said, “I’m looking for the Prince. Have you seen him?”
Missan and Deena looked at one another in confusion.
Missan said, “This is not one of Prince Synthan’s Children
Soldiers . . . is it?”
“Can’t be,” Deena said. “That was fifty years ago.”
“He’s a gheist,” Dratchet said.
Deena glared at him and said, “Will you quit saying that?”
“Please,” the little boy said. “If you’ll tell me where the
Prince is, I need to find my way back to him. I’m . . . I’m lost down
here.”
Missan said, “Are you looking for . . . Prince Synthan?”
He nodded, his eyes lighting up.
“Yes! Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?”
Everyone on the team looked troubled now, even Choster.
Jeffers said, “Could it be a sleep spell of some kind? Kept the
lad dormant down here all these years?”
Missan said, “We’re not even near Melody. It’s 30 miles from
here!”
Choster said, “There’s a vast network of tunnels and caves
underneath the sunken city of Melody. I’ve heard about it. Several teams have
tried exploring parts of it. No one has ever been through it all. They say deep
below, an underground river flows. It’s entirely possible this dungeon is
connected with Melody Hall.”
“That would certainly explain why he’s lost,” Deena said. “But
it doesn’t account for the fact that the Children Soldiers went down into
Melody Hall with the Prince five decades ago.”
Dratchet spat to one side and said, “Still say he’s a
gheist.”
“Will you shut up?”
Jeffers interrupted the brewing row between Deena and Dratchet.
He said, “Somebody needs to tell him,” nodding toward the boy who remained in
the middle of the room, watching them.
Missan sighed and said, “I’ll do it.”
She walked slowly toward the room’s middle, drawing nearer to
the boy. He stared at her now, giving her his full attention. She stopped a few
paces away.
“Hi. Uh, yeah. So, Prince Synthan is dead. He, uh . . . he died
a long time ago.”
The boy’s mouth dropped open in shock. Then his eyes narrowed to
slits.
“You’re lying.”
“No. No, I’m not. It happened a long, long time ago. Prince
Synthan was killed in Melody and—”
“No!”
The boy’s voice changed, growing deeper and echoing throughout
the chamber. His body changed, too, swelling larger. White, aethereal arms
sprouted out of the body, along with a monstrous head.
Dratchet yelled, “I believe I’m owed an apology!”
Deena said, “Shut up, Dratchet! Everyone, ready!”
“I’ve never seen a gheist like this, though,” Choster
said.
The thing attacked. Its white ghostly arms swept toward
Dratchet, his axe swinging and connecting with . . . nothing. But when the long
pale arms reached Dratchet’s flesh, his spirit ripped out of his body.
Deena saw the half-dwarf’s spirit struggling to pull up, then
something sucked it down to the floor. She watched in horror as his ghostly
hands slipped below the surface.
She lit up her protective dome and ducked as one of the huge
white arms swung through the spell, disintegrating it. Deena jumped out of the
way and nocked an arrow, loosed, then nocked and loosed another one. The arrows
sailed through the aethereal form.
She took careful aim with her third arrow and loosed it at the
boy’s face. It poofed into dust before hitting him.
Missan fired Lightning at the boy, then Fireball and Radiance.
Nothing happened. The aethereal figure surrounding the child seemed to soak in
all the spells.
Jeffers ran forward with his enchanted sword and swung at one of
the large arms. His sword whiffed through air. The arm came back and slapped
him in the chest, sucking out his spirit. His lifeless body fell to the ground.
“Choster! Nothing is working!”
Choster heard Missan, but he was too busy flitting around the
child and the aethereal form, trying to score a hit. One of the ghostly armed
slapped into him, and Choster popped away like a bubble.
Missan backed up, lobbing spell after spell into the monster.
Nothing she could think to sling at him had any effect. Deena cast a protective
dome around them again, but the huge arms poked through it. She cast a healing
spell on Missan, even though the woman did not need one . . . yet.
Missan said, “Go.”
“What? I can’t leave you! At least come with me. We can run for
it!”
They retreated to the huge double doors. The little boy in chain
mail advanced on them, his face snarling in hate. The giant ghostly body loomed
out of him, long white arms swinging toward the women.
“He’ll chase us. You go. I’ll give you some time.”
Missan flung more spells at the creature. Deena opened her mouth
to protest and watched as the spells were simply absorbed by . . . whatever that
was.
She turned and fled through the doors. At the chokepoint she
felt very grateful that Missan’s spells still displayed the hidden runes
floating in the air. She quickly but carefully weaved her way through them.
Behind her she heard Missan scream . . . then silence.
Deena stopped to catch her breath. She looked behind her and
heard the boy moving out of the doors and into the corridor.
She turned to run, then stopped to cast a message spell.
“Dungeon Corps, this is Deena Marceaux with Sergeant Missan’s
team. We have found one of the Children, but he’s a monster! He—”
She looked behind her and . . . there he stood. A little boy
looking up at her.
He said, “Boo.”
The ghostly form sprang from the child, huge arms reaching
toward her like scythes. It sucked her spirit out of her body.
**only .99 cents!!**
About the author:
Jaxon Reed is a science fiction and fantasy author. Amazon's Kindle Press selected his book, The Empathic Detective: A Mystery Thriller, for publication through Kindle Scout. Recently, Ghostsuit: An Empathic Detective Novel also won a contract through Kindle Scout.
Other recent books include Thieves and Wizards, an epic fantasy, and The Redwood Trilogy Box Set, a science fiction bundle.
Jaxon is an Aggie, living in Texas on a ranch with his wife and boys, several cats, and one pound dog.
To receive the latest updates on new releases and opportunities for free reader exclusives, please visit jaxonreed.
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