Wish: The Embers of Erghos

By V. K. Russell

Long ago an ancient race split the moon in twain in a failed attempt to rid their lives of all evil, shattering the balance of their world. Now that evil has returned and threatens to once again consume the moon and all who live there. It’s up to Casey Tasket a young boy who may be the last of his kind, to leave Earth and everything he loves behind, to save the moon and right the balance. Along with his new unexpected companions, Casey faces breathtaking adventures and horrific dangers and learns that his fate and that of all he meets rests in his hands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: V. K. Russell
• Release date: Nov 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9780986067419

V. K. Russell

Wish is my first book, and I hope you all enjoy it. I enjoyed writing it. I’ve always enjoyed writing things. In fact I keep a notebook full of ideas and the beginnings, endings and middles of ideas. But I didn’t always do that. For years I wrote whole chapters and just threw them away. Yes, I realize now that was wrong! You should keep everything you write. You never know when you might just sit down one day and turn it into a novel. I’m a Southern girl. Born and raised in Mississippi and I have always been weird. I’m a nerd at heart. I love Science Fiction! I have been a Trekkie from the time I was five, possibly earlier and I love Star Wars too. In fact the first movie I ever remember seeing in a theater was Star Wars. The next was Wizards. Yes, Wizards. At any rate I grew up being fascinated by facts and fantasy. I read a great deal and I love all kinds of music. I’m married to a wonderful and supportive man who loves me despite (or because) of my oddness and I’m a mom too. I have two gorgeous, talented and very active daughters that keep me on my toes 24/7, and they are the absolute light of my life and my reason for being. If you would like to ask me any further questions, or leave a comment please feel free. Thank you for your interest in me and my book!

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Wish: The Embers of Erghos

V. K. Russell

Copyright ©2013 by Vickie Russell

Published at Smashwords

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

Cover designed by AlphaGraphics of Pearl, MS

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Print ISBN 978-0-9900068-0-0

ePub ISBN 978-0-9900068-1-7

Copyright ©2013 by Vickie Russell

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form

or by means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying

without permission of the author.

First Edition

For the two people who hung the moon, my parents Lamar and Nancy

Chapter 1

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Casey sat bolt upright in his bed, opened the drawer of his end table and took out a flashlight, shining the beam around his room until the light came to rest on the model of a medieval castle that he had constructed himself.

Casey crept silently out of bed and dropped down on all fours. He crawled into the castle through the portcullis, and turned onto his back. Casey investigated his work, shining the light on the stones. He still needed a key stone for an archer’s tower that he planned to add to the right of the gate. He had searched the shallow, rocky creeks and the woods surrounding Waxen Dale for some time now without finding just the right stone to hold the tower aloft. He wriggled out of the castle and began searching through the shoe box that served as the container for his rock collection, rummaging through the pile, picking up one stone after another and replacing them. Then he remembered the unusual rock that he kept hidden in a jar of marbles in the corner of his room. He fished out the small translucent blue stone and bounced it in the palm of his hand. Casey nodded to himself and set to work constructing the archer’s tower. He often worked on his models at night when he woke up from having strange dreams. The activity settled him and helped him feel sleepy again. Casey finished the archer’s tower in record time. The blue stone held the others in place perfectly. He crawled into the castle and fell asleep.

It was almost daylight when the front door banged open and Casey’s drunk of a father crashed into the kitchen. He failed to find the light switch and stumbled into the table. He got up slurring curses and breaking glass as he tripped and groped in the darkness.

Then there was shouting.

Casey’s mother never backed down from the man, even in his whiskey soaked rages. They fought night and day. Casey should have been used to it, but it terrified him every time. Colbert Tasket drank and gambled and womanized and Maggie Tasket fought. She fought her husband, she fought to put food on the table and she fought their poverty. Fighting was all she had. The only thing she didn’t fight in this world was her little boy. She loved Casey fiercely and he loved her back. They clung to each other and made the best of it, however little best there was.

Don’t you dare go into his room! He gets little enough sleep. If you wake him up I swear I’ll… his mother began.

But Casey was already awake. He sat in the dark with his knees pulled tightly to his chest. He hated this. He hated waking up in a terror of unseen crashing and yelling and hitting.

Casey had no memory of his father ever telling him that he loved him. It was not until Colbert was completely intoxicated that he would stumble into his son’s room. Then he would pet him, and hug him, and breathe sour liquor-soaked words of endearment in Casey’s face. This was the only form of affection that Colbert ever offered.

There was the sharp flat smack of flesh on flesh and Casey heard his mother cry out and stumble.

I’ll wake him up if I want! Heesh my boy an I’ll see him when I wanna see him! Colbert slurred loudly.

The door to Casey’s bedroom burst open and a slouching black silhouette poured itself in and slumped heavily down on his bed.

Casshey! Hey Casshey!

Colbert was attempting to whisper but was yelling hoarsely instead. His clumsy drunk hands searched the covers. When he didn’t find Casey there he got up unsteadily, tripping as he searched for the light switch. To Casey’s horror, he found it. Colbert swayed momentarily as his watering eyes adjusted to the light. A deep frown began to form on his face and then was suddenly replaced by a spitting fit of laughter. Colbert stumbled over to the castle.

There you are boy! Colbert said, falling on the floor just outside the gate. He reached in and pulled Casey out by the collar of his pajama top.

You can’t hide from me. I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down! Colbert said as he hoisted Casey to his feet and kicked in the side of the castle.

You think you’re smart, buildin’ your little houses and all. You know what we used to call guys like you when I was your age? We called ‘em sissies!

The tears that Casey always hid until after his father left came streaming hot and uncontrolled down his face. Colbert only laughed, and continued to demolish the castle.

Casey didn’t know where the courage to speak came from, but suddenly fear was replaced with anger.

Stop it! Stop. That’s mine! Casey shouted.

Colbert let go of Casey’s collar and grabbed him by the wrists pulling Casey close to his face.

Don’t talk back to me boy! Colbert said, his tone low and menacing. His breath was hot and foul in Casey’s face. There was murder swimming in his eyes.

Suddenly there was a glossy black flash. His father let go and Casey fell on his bed.

Colbert screamed and grabbed at his neck where a very large jet-black cat was clinging. The creature looked as big as a panther to ten-year-old Casey. He watched, wide-eyed and frozen as the cat snarled and clawed, bit and hissed. Fine riverlets of blood sprang from deep claw marks and ran down his father’s neck, staining his blue work shirt. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the beast let go of its own accord and leapt onto Casey’s lap. Colbert crouched in the corner of the bedroom, breathing wildly. He clutched his throat and when he brought his hand up to look, it was red and wet.

I’ll… I’ll kill that cat! Colbert screamed as he lunged for the animal.

The cat arched its back. It hissed viciously, and to Casey’s utter amazement his father backed down. Colbert pressed himself against the wall and inched out of the room, stumbling on the scattered stones. He never took his eyes off the cat as he backed down the hallway and retreated. Casey didn’t exhale until he heard the slam of the kitchen door. His father would find somewhere else to sleep it off tonight.

The big cat relaxed as well. He sat straight and upright on Casey’s lap and looked him in the eye. For several tense seconds Casey sat paralyzed. Then with a catty grin the large feline bucked Casey under the chin with its head and slid across his chest. Casey realized then that he, personally, was in no danger. The cat slid under his arm like a silk scarf and rolled onto the bed. Casey sighed in relief and stroked the cat’s thick smooth pelt.

It was several minutes before Casey’s mother limped in. The left side of her face was already turning dark from the blow his father had dealt, and she had sprained her ankle when she fell. But by then, Casey and the cat had become fast friends. Maggie clung to the door facing for support, and watched as Casey and his new pal batted the blue stone across the bed. It was the first time in months that she had heard her son laugh.

The cat spied her and leapt down. He arched his back and tiptoed in figure eights between her ankles, mewling and purring.

Mom! Mom! You should have seen it! Casey gushed excitedly. Dad was so scared. That cat he… Casey picked up the feline and cradled him in his arms. He came right through the window! He came out of nowhere. Like, like, um, like a rocket!

The cat meowed gently.

Yeah, just like a rocket. That’s what I’m gonna name him, Casey said, Rocket."

Maggie’s first thought was to protest. Naming an animal meant keeping an animal. But, she found herself smiling instead. The cat had done them a great service after all, and if Colbert was afraid of him maybe he would stay away. Maybe they could have a few days of peace.

He can stay, Maggie said. Let’s get him a saucer of milk.

Maggie leaned over slowly, minding her injured ankle and took the ebony hero out of her son’s arms. The cat purred, rubbing his whiskers against her night gown.

Well if you aren’t the charmer, Maggie whispered. Kitchen’s this way.

When his mother had gone Casey rushed to get dressed. It would be daylight soon and there was no point in going back to sleep now. He knew his mother wouldn’t even try. He brushed his teeth and washed his face. He slid on his khaki slacks and pulled a red and blue striped t-shirt over his head. He combed his fine brown hair and pulled on a pair of white cotton socks. He found the only pair of shoes he owned under his bed and slid them on. He would outgrow those soon, but summer was rapidly approaching and he mostly went barefoot then.

Casey raced to the kitchen and stopped suddenly. His mother was humming softly as she fried bacon on the stove. Rocket was seated squarely in the middle of the kitchen table, hunched low, lapping milk from a small green saucer. It seemed to Casey that for the first time the house had real life. Any other time he and his mother would have sat in the cold dark silence of the kitchen eating plain bread and butter with the curtains pulled tight. Maggie seldom prepared hot meals for the fear that she would make some sound with the pots and pans that might arouse his father from his sodden stupor. Colbert would be angry then and the fighting would begin all over again. Some mornings Casey left while they were still fighting. But his mother always told him she loved him before he went, even in the midst of the battle. Today was different. The kitchen was filled with contentment and the smells of good home cooking. It was cozy and calm.

That smells good, Casey complimented. He slid into his chair and Maggie placed a heaping plate of bacon, eggs and toast with strawberry jam on the table in front of him.

Wow. Look at this Rocket, Casey said. You gonna help me eat all this?

Casey broke the crisp end off of a piece of bacon and held it out. Rocket sniffed it but went back to his milk.

Alright, suit yourself, Casey said. But you don’t know what you’re missing.

Casey eyed his mother, but she made no protest about the cat sharing the table. She looked different this morning. Maggie had pulled her wavy brown hair up despite the swollen bruise on her check. She wore a simple blue cotton dress dotted with little pink flowers and over that a well worn white apron. Maggie rarely bothered to dress herself in the morning, the opportunity usually didn’t present itself. She fixed a plate of her own and sat at the table opposite Casey. They grinned at each other as they ate. Rocket kept his place in the middle of the table, licking his paw and brushing it over his long black whiskers.

I’m sorry about your castle. Did you get all the rocks picked up? Maggie asked.

Yeah. It’s not your fault mom, and anyway I can build it again, Casey said.

I know. But you worked so hard on it. You amaze me you know, Maggie said.

Why? asked Casey.

It’s the way you build your models. How do you get the whole thing to stay up without using any glue or mortar, or mud? I’ve never understood that, said Maggie.

There’s nothing to it. You just have to find rocks that fit together. They press against each other and hold each other up, Casey explained.

Kind of like us, Maggie said warmly.

Yeah, Casey said smiling.

Oh! I almost forgot. Farmer Kemp said that another meteor fell over his farm a few nights ago. I saw him at the market and he gave me these, Maggie said. She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a handful of small, glittering grey stones.

Casey studied the stones with excitement. He had seen ones like these before, Waxen Dale was full of them. Some of the townsfolk said that these grey stones came from outer space and were the broken fragments of meteors or comets. Casey supposed that it could be true. Waxen Dale had always been known for the fantastic meteor showers that could be seen in the sky at the onset of summer and the town had a long history of people reporting seeing strange lights in the sky. A UFO expert had even been out to investigate Farmer Kemp’s fields.

Casey held the stones to his ear. He had never told his mother before, but sometimes he thought he could hear a faint whispering coming from the rocks. He ran to his room and placed the stones in his collection with the others, then suddenly remembering the time, ran back into the kitchen.

I gotta go mom or I’ll be late! Casey said. Come on Rocket you can ride in the basket!

Casey grabbed his satchel and his books. Then he kissed his mother tenderly on her bruise.

I love you mom, thanks, Casey said.

Casey didn’t have to say what the thanks was for. It was for letting him keep Rocket, and for everything else, everything she had ever done. Maggie’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. She threw her arms around her son and held him close. She didn’t want to let this moment go. It was such a rare day and she knew there would not be many more like it.

I love you too, she said tenderly. Go on now.

Rocket jumped down from the table and trailed at Casey’s ankles. When they were outside Casey picked Rocket up and placed him gently in the wire basket on the front of his bike. Rocket put his forepaws on the front rim of the basket, pointed his face to the wind and they sped down the street to pick up the morning papers for Casey’s route.

Chapter 2

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Casey had a fine day with Rocket. The big cat rode with him as he delivered his papers and never tried to run away. Once a big floppy-eared hound dog charged suddenly from an alley and tried to snap Rocket up. But Rocket was faster. The cat parachuted down from the bike’s basket with all four paws outstretched unto the dog’s muzzle. Rocket planted his sharp claws in the dog’s saggy jowls and pulled upward making the