Stones of Abraxas

By K. Osborn Sullivan

Book 1 in the World of Abraxas Series

David Stanhope is an average twelve-year-old. His friends are geeks. School is an endless series of humiliations. And his summer vacation is about to be wasted at a broken-down cabin in the middle of nowhere.

But there's a secret lurking in David's attic. It transports him and his sister Amanda to the magical world of Abraxas where dragons scour the prairie for prey and centaurs patrol in search of humans. They learn that the people of Abraxas live in fear of a centuries-old sorcerer who has spent his life trying to impose his evil rule on the entire land. If he discovers who David and Amanda really are, they will be forced to help him – or be destroyed.

Before the Stanhopes can escape back to their own world, they need answers: How did a priceless treasure end up in their attic? Why is a dragon afraid of a compass? Can a centaur wear a tool belt? Why is a huge talking frog following Amanda? And what's Lucy the Moat Monster's favorite food?

Maybe David isn't so average after all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K. Osborn Sullivan
• Release date: Apr 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476127118

K. Osborn Sullivan

K. Osborn Sullivan's first novel is the hilarious and exciting young adult fantasy, Stones of Abraxas. Since the book's original release, Kim has won praise from readers and reviewers alike for creating likeable characters, nonstop action, and overall great fantasy. She also writes nonfiction for teens, and both fiction and nonfiction for adults.Kim grew up on the Southwest side of Chicago, and now lives near Atlanta, Georgia with her family and an assortment of rescued cats. She holds a Ph.D. in political science and has spent many years as a college instructor.For more information about K. Osborn Sullivan and her work, including excerpts and some admittedly lousy advice for students and aspiring writers, please visit www.KOsbornSullivan.com.

Book preview

Prologue

Black smoke from the battlefield rose lazily and nearly reached the great height at which the hawk flew. She used her keen eyesight to peer through the haze and watch the raging battle below. The hawk could see goblins, with their rough gray skins, leading a vicious attack against the struggling humans and their allies. She could just detect the evil goblin stench, even from this distance. Trailing the bulky goblins were hordes of small, brown-cloaked gnomes using long knives to finish off and rob soldiers lying on the brink of death. Bringing up the rear of the enemy army was a line of massive, stupid trolls stomping everything in its path.

The majestic hawk circled lower as she approached gleaming Castle Annwyn. She was surprised to see a human standing alone on the castle's tallest tower, staring down at the grisly battle scene. The young man occasionally dragged his bright blue eyes from the fighting to glare at a flock of vultures gathering overhead. Feelings of helplessness and anger were etched on his face. The hawk watched as the human reached into his long cloak and pulled out a glittering red jewel suspended from a golden chain. With one last, regretful look at the battlefield, he pressed the stone to his forehead and disappeared.

Several minutes later, as the hawk soared over the fighting once again, she heard a piercing cry rise up from the ground. Scanning for the source of that agonized call, the bird saw only lifeless bodies and one black cloak fluttering, empty, into the battlefield mud. The hawk could tell that the humans and their allies took heart from the cry that echoed across the field, and they fought harder than ever. The goblins, gnomes, and trolls, however, were losing their lust for battle as they listened to the tortured sound. Some of the foul creatures retreated or surrendered, while many others were skewered on their enemies' swords.

Satisfied with the battle's outcome, the hawk wheeled away westward in search of a rat or hare for supper.

Chapter 1

Use a girl's name if that expresses who you are!

David's alarm clock went off with that grating buzz he had grown to hate over the past year. He slapped the snooze button to turn off the racket. David's eyes were still closed, and he was already half asleep again when his sister's voice rang out in the hallway.

Mom, I'm wearing my new sandals to school today, so could you drive me? I bought the ones with the platform heel, so there's no way I can walk in them.

I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Amanda, especially since I still have the receipt for those sandals, Mom called back from the kitchen.

David grunted into his pillow, disgusted by his sister's shoe obsession, but then the word sandals penetrated his sleepy brain. Sandals meant summer, and summer meant no more school! David bolted upright in bed, the bright June sun assaulting him as he emerged from his blanket.

Summer vacation! he sang, as he leapt out of bed and grabbed some jeans from the dresser. Only one more day of school before total freedom for three months!

David dashed into the bathroom to brush his hair and teeth. While in front of the mirror, he took a moment to study himself, trying to memorize his own features. In a few hours, he, David Stanhope, would officially be in junior high, and he wanted to be able to detect any subtle changes that might occur between now and then. Staring back at him was a skinny, twelve-year-old boy with light brown hair and too-long bangs that flopped in his bright blue eyes. His dad was thin, too, but he was also tall, so David hoped to grow a few inches over the summer.

It's no use. A radical head transplant is your only option, a voice said. Looking over, David saw his sister, Amanda, standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

"Can't I even get some privacy in the bathroom? Are you so crazed that you have to follow me in here?" David snarled.

The door was open and I saw someone about your size lurking near the sink. I just wanted to see who it was. I mean, it's pretty clear that you haven't looked in a mirror for a long time, so I never imagined it was you, Amanda explained reasonably.

Of course I can't get in the bathroom. You're always in here applying gallons of zit cream. Not that it helps, David replied, brushing past Amanda on his way downstairs.

Before following her brother to the kitchen, Amanda considered her own reflection in the mirror. She liked her blue eyes and blond ponytail, but frowned at the blemishes that dotted her forehead and cheeks. On this, her last day as an eighth-grader, Amanda had hoped to look more like a glamorous, confident high school student and less like the survivor of a chicken pox epidemic.

Chicken pox it is, she finally said with a sigh and headed toward the stairs.

Good morning! Dad greeted David from behind his newspaper. David plopped down at the kitchen table and selected a box of cereal from the three in front of him.

Morning, Dad. I thought you were leaving for that conference today.

Dad took a sip of his coffee then replied, I'm going straight to the airport after school lets out this afternoon. He taught shop classes at Dryden High School and every year he attended a conference for do-it-yourself home improvement enthusiasts. And every year he came home brimming with ideas for new ways to fix up the house. On the downside, he always tried to suck David and Amanda into helping with the projects.

Would you like some bacon, David? asked Mom, hovering near the stove. David nodded vigorously.

Bacon. Yum, Amanda said, sniffing the air as she entered the kitchen. Dad handed her the comics from his newspaper, and she poured herself some orange juice.

Coming right up, Mom replied as she tossed a few more slices in the pan. Like her daughter, Mom wore a ponytail, but her hair was reddish-brown, not blond, and her clothes were nowhere near as tight as Amanda's.

Wiping her glasses on the hem of her blouse, Mom said, Amanda, I'll drop you off on my way to work if you want, but remember that I'm driving Grandma's old car because mine's in the shop, so if you're embarrassed to be seen in it, you should make other arrangements.

All right, Amanda agreed, remembering her painful sandals. She sat quietly for a few moments, munching bacon and passing bits to her cats under the table before saying, Mom, on the way to school could you wear a baseball cap and one of Dad's shirts? That way, if anyone sees you, I can say you're my boyfriend. It's not embarrassing to have a boyfriend drop you off in a crummy old car.

Dad looked up from his paper and derailed Mom's reply by saying, I'll miss you all when I'm at my conference. It's this kind of stimulating conversation that I won't get while I'm brushing up my skills in bathroom remodeling and carpet installation. Dad's blue eyes twinkled as he watched his children clean up their breakfast dishes. And don't forget it's report card day. I want to see some excellent grades from the two of you when I get home.

David and Amanda groaned.

#

Amanda crouched in the front seat as Mom's 1976 Ford Pinto came to a gasping, wheezing stop in front of her school. Kids turned to stare as the car backfired. Amanda climbed out and waved as her mother and brother disappeared in a foul-smelling cloud of bluish smoke.

Amanda dashed up the front steps of the Dryden Junior High School, trying to act like she hadn't just leapt out of the rattling heap of metal that was lurching down the street. Not only had Mom refused to disguise herself with a baseball cap, but she was playing loud disco music on the car's antique sound system. Amanda had never been so embarrassed.

In her hurry, Amanda ran into the broad back of another student in the crowded hallway. The impact knocked her backward and she dropped her notebook. She dived to grab it before someone kicked it down the hall.

Hey, Amanda, just the person I was looking for, a deep voice said.

Amanda peered up and was shocked to see Craig Biggers standing over her. Apparently he was the person she'd barreled into. Perfect.

Craig was a sophomore – soon to be a junior – at Dryden High School, and he lived next door to Amanda. His long brown hair was messy and his faded black T-shirt wrinkled, which combined to give the effect that he had just rolled out of bed. Amanda's heart skipped a beat, and she caught envious glances from other girls walking past.

Um, hi, Craig, said Amanda breathlessly. What are you doing here? Did you say you were looking for me?

My dad sent me over to drop off some school board stuff with the principal, he replied, holding up a brown envelope. And, yeah, I was wondering what you were doing tonight.

Um, no plans tonight, Amanda stammered. Her tongue suddenly felt like it weighed ten pounds.

My dad's gonna be out, so me and my friends are having a party. What do you think?

Yeah, that sounds like fun. Amanda could hardly understand what she was saying. Craig Biggers was inviting her to a party! A high school party!

So you'll keep your folks from calling the cops if we're loud? Craig asked with the flash of a grin. That'd be great. And then he was gone, sauntering down the hallway to drop off his dad's papers.

Amanda's stomach slid to her toes as red spread across her face. When she got to her locker, Amanda tossed her backpack inside and tried to compose herself. Her best friend, Dusty, approached and rubbed her back.

I saw, Dusty said sympathetically. A Craig Biggers encounter that ended in humiliation.

Amanda sighed and glanced at her friend. Dusty looked just as her name suggested. Her hair and small eyes were a mousy brown, and her skin was pale. She wasn't ugly, but she was easy to overlook in a crowd. Even a small crowd.

But don't worry, Dusty continued with a consoling arm around Amanda's shoulders. Next year you'll start high school more fantastic than ever. By then, Craig will step on his own grandmother to get close to you. Dusty always knew just what to say.

#

Mom pulled into the faculty parking lot behind Dryden Middle School. She was the school's librarian, and David had been able to hitch a ride to school with her every day for the past two years. He wasn't looking forward to having to walk to the junior high starting next year.

David and his mother climbed out of the car. The engine was still rattling and spluttering, but experience told David that would continue for a long time.

You have a good last day of school, Mom told him as she tossed her messenger bag over one shoulder and headed toward the faculty entrance at the back of the school.

Yeah, you, too, he replied with a wave.

David weaved between arriving cars on his way through the parking lot. As he neared a group of boys he knew from his sixth grade class, he heard one of them call out to him.

Nice car, Stanhope! Another roll of duct tape and that will be one fine machine!

It was George Tuman, a kid who lived a couple blocks from David and who had taunted him ever since they were in kindergarten together. Of course it was too much to ask that David could have travelled all the way to school in his late grandmother's 3000-year-old car without being spotted by George.

The other boys laughed and slapped one other on the back as David stalked past without comment. David had learned years ago not to respond to their teasing. It would only earn him a shove and maybe his English book thrown in a puddle.

David found his friends, Schmitty and Steve Bennett, hanging upside down from the playground monkey bars. Normally at this time of the morning, the pair would be inside hunched over a computer in the school's student newspaper office. But because this was the last day of school, there were no more newspapers to write. Seeing them on the playground, David thought his friends looked out of place.

Hey, guys! David said as he swung himself up on the bars next to Schmitty. The other boy's glasses were dangling off his upside-down face and it made him look even more cockeyed than usual.

David, you've got to settle a bet for us. Steve, here, insists that Batman could beat Spiderman in a fight. I, like all sensible people, know that Spiderman's superior strength and Spider Sense would prevail. Can you help show my confused brother the error of his ways? Schmitty asked sincerely.

Steve and Schmitty were his best friends, and he had gone to school with them since kindergarten. The Twins as they were commonly called, wore the same frizzy hair, thick glasses, and befuddled expressions. Together with David, they also shared an addiction to science fiction graphic novels, video games, and the search for the Loch Ness Monster.

On Schmitty's other side, David heard Steve say, Yes, please explain to me how the brilliant technology at Batman's fingertips would be useless when confronted by a little sticky webbing.

Guys, I think the important thing is that the newspaper we put out yesterday was our best one ever. David wanted to prevent the argument that threatened to break out. The Twins' disagreements tended to be lengthy affairs filled with snotty comments and sabotage of one another's computers.

David breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the bell rang. The boys grabbed the bar they were hanging from and swung their legs over.

As they marched through the school's double doors, the boys' teacher, Ms. Fleischman, popped out of the Teacher's Lounge ahead of them. Her curly red hair and tie-dyed dress were particularly jarring early in the morning.

All ready for our final day together, boys? Ms. Fleischman asked in her spacey voice. David was reminded of brainwashed cult members when his teacher spoke.

Good morning, Ms. Fleischman, all three boys said in unison. It was difficult for them to call her Ms. Fleischman, instead of the nickname every kid in school used, Ms. Flowerchild. And she hadn't earned that nickname in a good I'm really-cool-and-have-a-unique-teaching-style kind of way, either. Instead, it was based on the bad I'm so confused I can barely affix my hippie headband impression she made.

For the rest of the day, David and his friends were forced to endure Ms. Flowerchild's teary farewells. All they could do was look out the window at the beautiful weather while she showed them slides of her past summer vacations and talked about what a wonderful class this one was. Finally, as her time ticked away, she began to distribute report cards.

Generally, David was well liked by his teachers, but he wasn't so popular with Mr. Carlson, the gym coach. In fact, David worried about whether he would even pass physical education this year. If he failed, he might have to spend part of his summer making up the class. David wasn't sure he wanted to meet the other kids who couldn't pass gym.

David's problems had started early in the year when he demonstrated an unwillingness to bombard weaker students with dodge balls during gym class. Coach Carlson always yelled disturbing things like, Throw those balls! Pound them! The other team is your enemy! Cull the herd; pick off the sick and the weak! It's nature's way! Coach Carlson got a crazy look in his eyes and sprayed spittle when he gave these motivational speeches, as he called them.

Beyond simply refusing to assault his classmates, David had gone too far one day when he suggested that maybe the class could occasionally play basketball or softball, instead of dodge ball all the time.

Coach Carlson had looked seriously at David and said, Son, you could be tough, but you're letting feelings like compassion cloud your killer instinct. P.E. isn't about feeling good or being nice, it's about killing, er, I mean winning… Coach paused for a moment, looking confused, then, as if a light bulb went on in his brain, he continued, I mean it's about developing healthy life attitudes. Yeah, that's it, healthy life attitudes.

Then Coach Carlson turned back to watching a dodge ball game already in progress.

Get her! the coach had yelled. "That little girl with the ponytail is down and she's crying! What are you waiting for? An invitation?" After that day, Coach Carlson always looked upon David with suspicion, and the boy knew he would be lucky to escape P.E. with a passing grade.

Today, as Ms. Flowerchild wandered down the rows of desks, she paused next to David's seat.

I noticed last night as I was filling out your report card that your middle name is Wilma, the teacher commented.Isn't that unusual? I always thought Wilma was a girl's name." She dropped David's report card on his desk and started to move away, leaving the boy to hope that no one else in class had heard the woman's ramblings.

But then she said more loudly, Come to think of it, I should congratulate you, David Wilma Stanhope. What a great way to demonstrate your independence! Don't be afraid to use a girl's name if that expresses who you are! Ms. Flowerchild smiled vacantly and moved down the row, distributing report cards to students with normal names, unaware that she had just doomed a boy to years of torment by his classmates.

As David's head dropped into his hands, he could hear George Tuman cackling behind him.

Wilma! Oh, Stanhope, that's perfect! I always knew you were really a girl!

The truth of the matter was that Wilma was a family name. Not only David, but also Amanda and their father bore the same middle name. It was supposed to honor some distant ancestor, according to Dad. Someone who was important or famous or something. Dad didn't like to talk about it, and he changed the subject on the rare occasions that it came up.

The family name meant nothing to David and Amanda, except when used as an insult. They had a habit of calling one another Wilma when one did something that the other considered stupid. They called each other Wilma a lot.

Of course, David wasn't about to tell these details to George Tuman; particularly not the part about sharing a middle name with his sister.

"Hey, Wilma, you're the ugliest girl I've ever seen, Wilma!" George hissed.

David groaned and turned his attention to his sixth grade marks. As expected, he saw good grades in every class, with the exception of physical education. Listed underneath the A he had earned in Language Arts and the A minus in math was a C minus for gym. David was relieved that he had passed and wouldn't have to attend summer school. Plus, he took comfort in knowing he hadn't been involved when that one kid got a concussion in gym last month. His conscience was clear.

.Ms. Flowerchild finished distributing the report cards and began yet another tearful farewell speech.

I'll be thinking of you as I'm dangling hundreds of feet in the air on a climbing expedition in the Himalayan Mountains this summer, she said.

Right on cue, the bell rang and 25 students dashed for the door, as though pursued by hungry Tibetan tigers.

#

Amanda, are you home? Mom called as she and David came through the front door.

David shrugged off his backpack and stooped to ruffle the furry neck of Amanda's tabby cat, Maggie. The cat purred and stretched her neck to meet his fingers.

So, do you feel older? Mom asked Amanda when the girl emerged from the kitchen.

Not yet. But I wonder if David is feeling more stupid every minute as everything he learned this year starts leaking out his ears? she asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

I'm still smart enough to know when I've got chocolate on my nose, Wilma, her brother replied, heading to the kitchen for his own after-school snack.

Be careful with the ice cream because we're visiting your cousin Stuart this afternoon. You know how Aunt Helen can't stand having messy people in her house, Mom warned.

Oh, no! You didn't tell us we're going to see Stuey! Amanda moaned, examining her nose's reflection in the underside of a spoon.

If I'd known about this I would have stayed at school! David said.

You two should be nicer to Stuart, Mom said disapprovingly. He's had tragedy in his life.

David and Amanda rolled their eyes. Technically, the death of Stuart's father five years earlier was a tragedy -- the man had been electrocuted trying to unclog his toilet with a vacuum cleaner -- but most people agreed that Stuart's father had brought it on himself. David and Amanda's father, being a shop teacher and lover of all home improvement projects, could never hear any mention of the accident without shaking his head and muttering, If only the fool had called me first...

Mom, do we really have to visit Stuart? Amanda complained. He's always so…whiny.

And irritating, David added.

And boring.

And his room smells funny.

And everything he touches is sticky.

It was hard for David and Amanda to pinpoint why they disliked their cousin. Mom said he was frail. They thought he was just a huge pain.

Look, we need to visit your poor cousin. He isn't feeling well and I promised my sister we'd stop by to cheer him up. Mom didn't sound excited about the visit either.

David and Amanda were still complaining half an hour later when Mom hustled them out of the house and into the old Pinto rusting in the driveway.

Heading across town was a perilous journey in Grandma Stanhope's pile of bolts. Any trip was an adventure in a car whose engine died at every stoplight, but getting up Lakeview Mountain at the edge of town was a special challenge. As the car swung through the tight curves winding up and around Lakeview Mountain, the Stanhopes held their breath, hoping the Pinto wouldn't stall at just the wrong time. If they stopped on this twist of road, there was no way other drivers could see the stranded car until it was too late. And if a car got into an accident and went off the side, it could be washed away by the deep, swift-moving currents of the Lakeview River below.

In truth, Lakeview Mountain was nowhere near being an actual mountain. In most parts of the world, it wouldn't even be considered much of a hill. But the Chicago-area landscape is so flat that a pile of rock and dirt in the prairie seemed like a big deal to the early residents of Dryden, Illinois. They named it Lakeview Mountain because, near its top, the waters of Lake Michigan were visible off to the east.

The Stanhopes arrived at Aunt Helen's unnaturally clean home and were walking up the driveway when David casually said, You know, Amanda, you might want to stay away from Stuart. I bet he wasn't tested for rabies after that snake bite.

Are you kidding? Amanda shrieked. Mom, can I get rabies from Stuart?

David laughed as he banged the door knocker. The deep gonging sound made David feel like they were trying to gain access to a medieval castle instead of the suburban home of his scrawny cousin.

You shouldn't laugh about this, David. It's a serious medical condition, Mom scolded.

What's a serious medical condition, Mom? He's not sick.

He could have been. What if that snake had been poisonous? Mom said, trying lamely to defend her nephew.

I'll tell you what a serious medical condition is, David began. It's Stuart being such a loser that he got bitten by a garter snake on a forest preserve field trip, then he demanded an ambulance to take him to the hospital. That snake bite was nature's way of saying it was disgusted by him.

Just then, the door swung open and a painfully thin woman squinted at them suspiciously. Her small eyes darted up and down the street, as though afraid the neighbors were taking aim at her from their picture windows.

Come in, come in, Aunt Helen said briskly, and ushered the family into her front hallway. She gave kisses all around, careful not to make physical contact with anyone, before commanding, Shoes on the mat!

David, Amanda, and Mom had piled their shoes near the front door by the time Cousin Stuart appeared at the top of the stairs. Stuart Spence was a skinny, pale, eleven-year-old who looked like he should be haunting an old mansion in a horror movie. As far as David was concerned, his cousin was exactly the kind of person to be ejected from the woods by the local wildlife.

Hello, Stuart whined in his high-pitched voice. Mom, could you turn down the air conditioning? I'm cold and need to put on a sweater.

Isn't one sign of rabies sensitivity to cold? David whispered to Amanda evilly.

Hush, he'll hear you, Mom scolded under her breath. Stepping forward, she said, Hi, Stuart, honey, how are you feeling?

Not good, Auntie. My finger hurts and I can't eat because I feel sick from the shot.

Mom gasped. Did you actually need a rabies shot?

No, we learned that reptiles don't carry rabies, thank goodness, Aunt Helen said. Poor Stuart had a tetanus shot. While we were waiting to see the doctor yesterday, he accidentally scraped himself on the Emergency Room's soda machine.

David and Amanda had to turn away from each other to control the fit of giggles that threatened to overtake them.

The doctor said a tetanus shot shouldn't make me feel sick, but I'm so sensitive, it did anyway. You know, like how I start gagging whenever I smell gasoline, or lemons, or bleach. I just can't be expected to tolerate things the way normal people do, Stuart explained with a pathetic shrug of his narrow shoulders.

David and Amanda spent an hour trying to interest Cousin Stuart in doing something remotely fun, but with no success. He didn't want to play video games because his finger hurt from the snake attack, he wouldn't go outside because he was afraid of getting a mosquito bite which, in his own words, Could be enough to send me back to the hospital, and he refused to play a board game because the sound of the dice might give him a headache. He finally agreed to watching television, but insisted they turn on a cable news program that was doing a special report on the health risks of flu vaccines.

After finally escaping from Cousin Stuart's house an hour later, David and Amanda tried to talk Mom into stopping at the Cheeseburger Shack to pick up some dinner.

David took the logical approach. Dad's not home, so why should you bother cooking just for us? We'd like burgers more than anything you could make, anyway, he said, oblivious to the dark look Mom shot him in the rearview mirror.

When they got home, David leaped out of the car carrying a bag of burgers, and was closely followed by Amanda juggling the sodas. They were heading inside when they heard Mom call to their next door neighbor from the front porch.

Hi, Fred! Lawn's already looking good this year.

Fred Biggers grinned.

"Yup, it really is shaping up. The trick is to fertilize in the spring and the fall." Mr. Biggers truly loved his lawn and was willing to talk about it with anyone who would listen.

Just don't get so caught up in your lawn that you forget to watch our house while we're on vacation next month, Mom joked.

Oh, no, Susan, never. Mr. Biggers said with a shake of his bald head. And I've already had a talk with my boy, Craig, about how he's not allowed in your empty house while you're gone. He's a good kid, but sometimes teenagers can get some crazy ideas.

Amanda heard her neighbor's comment through the open dining room window and groaned. Speaking of crazy ideas, she had completely forgotten about Craig Biggers' party and her unwanted role in keeping him out of jail. It's almost enough to make a girl lose her appetite, she thought, digging into a large order of cheese fries.

#

That evening, the Stanhopes watched some television and started writing shopping lists for their upcoming vacation to their grandmother's northern Minnesota cabin. Neither David nor Amanda had much interest in the trip, but they were both going to try to make the best of spending a whole month away from civilization. David wanted to write so he could do a series on the horrors of family vacations for his school newspaper next year. Amanda was hoping to train her cats to walk on a leash, like dogs.

Before bed, Mom told David and Amanda that they would have to spend some time the next day going through camping gear in the attic.

"We need to figure out what