Apprentice, The Darkwater Adventurers Guild, Vol 1

By K.L. Coones

Ralik Teral hates life as a cobbler’s assistant. When an acceptance letter to the renown Darkwater Adventurers Guild arrives amid mysterious circumstances, Ralik decides to risk everything, including his Grandfathers ire, for a chance to be an apprentice. Although his fate may be inextricably linked to the ancient halls of the Guild, Ralik may find that the demands of things beyond the castle walls are too much for his young shoulders to bare. Fearful as he may be, Ralik may have no choice but to pursue an old family secret sparked by the appearance of a strange piece of jewelry and guarded by a member of his own family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.L. Coones
• Release date: May 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465881267

K.L. Coones

"Horror used to terrify me. Some of that Asian stuff still does. I’ll never watch The Ring again..."Ever the non conformist...his first book, Absolom Rex, he decided to publish as an e-book and see if he could market it himself. So on top of being a writer, he is also an entrepreneur and marketing professional. It makes for a confusing description when people ask him what he does. In addition to his horror novels, K.L. also writes the Darkwater Adventures Guild series for young readers.Some of his favorite authors from growing up are John Bellairs, Mark Twain, Washington Irving and R.A. Salvatore."The first book I ever read cover to cover was Spell of the Sorcerers Skull by John Bellairs in JR High."From a small Texas town, K.L. spent some time living in Los Angeles. His welcome, a white knuckle 19 hour ride through deserted deserts and twisting mountain roads ending in a 4 am slash and burn through traffic on the 10 with cars everywhere.While in L.A. he braved the Devil’s Punchbowl with stalwarts mates, drove out to the middle of nowhere to watch the stars fall from the sky, relearned to drive stick (yeah, in the middle of L.A., so now you know he is insane...) and resumed training in the martial arts. A surfer, he has felt the zen that comes from hanging ten all day and he has played the part of the pesky reporter when he wrote for a local Halloween haunt blog called, CreepyLA.com. He currently contributes short stories for Darkmediacity.com's #Fridayfrights and flashfriday.org's #fridayflash."I really missed the old gothic story telling and I want to bring it back. I would describe my writing style as a cross between Mark Twain and Edgar Allen Poe..."He has since moved back to Texas with his dog Sid (at least for the time being). He’s an 80's movie and music lover and the thing that he likes most about a woman is her voice... When not banging away on a keyboard he’s scheming of ways to get himself to a new campsite for the weekend, hiking with friends and his dog, contributing to darkmediacity.com,or getting thrown around in a dojo by people in black suits.Oh, and a large telescope just arrived in the mail, bigger is better...

Book preview

The Darkwater Adventurers Guild

Vol. 1

Apprentice

By

K.L. Coones

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * *

Published By

K.L. Coones on Smashwords

The Darkwater Adventurers Guild: Apprentice

Copyright© 2011 by K.L. Coones

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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 person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

The pain of broken dreams,

or of dreams had, but not realized.

What dreams are more painful?

Those broken or those had, but not tried upon...

Can we dream? Should we dream,

and chance for that dream to break?

But in the breaking of those dreams

is it just the dream that breaks,

or we that break from spirit bound?

And why dream when dreams may break us?

But do we live if we do not dream?

Are we but flesh and blood and brains,

or does the dream inside us beat all flesh

and make us whole, whole in spirit?

The spirit bound, bound up inside the dream bound within,

and when set free, rejected by a blind eye and a deaf ear...

But the spirit rejects thus rejected, and dreams again.

Apprentice

Ralik Teral sat at the window, gazing lazily out upon the shadowy purple mountains many miles to the south, dreaming of a trip to those mountains and the adventures they offered. He gave little notice to where he was or what he was supposed to be doing. The gentle tap, tap of the hammer didn’t distract him from his dreaming, nor did the soft smell of new leather mixed with the sharp tinge of glue that permeated the air of the little shop. The old broom lay idle beside him as he gazed out beyond the borders of his little village into the unknown.

Ralik, came a voice from somewhere in the forgotten expanse behind him.

Ralik, sounded the voice again, more insistent this time. Ralik had the peculiar feeling that he should be listening to that voice, and that he should be doing something besides looking at the mountains.

Ralik! Have you finished sweeping out yet? Ralik jumped as if prodded by a hot stick. He quickly grabbed the broom and looked around, desperately trying to reorient himself to his surroundings. His eyes fell on the old man who was sitting, half turned toward him in a rickety old chair, scowling with a disapproving air. Ralik finally registered where he was and what he was supposed to be doing, and immediately started dragging the broom head across the floor in short strokes.

Almost, Granddad, he replied weakly. The old man let out an exasperated gush of air.

Put the broom aside, he said. I need you to deliver these shoes to Mrs. Reglo.

Mrs. Reglo, Ralik complained. She always makes me come in and eat her old cookies while she shows me paintings of all her goats.

Nothing worth doing is easy, stated the old man sternly. She is one of our best customers, you know. Ralik stared glumly at the shoes as his grandfather deftly hammered a nail into place, reattaching the heel that had fallen away from the sole. As Ralik’s grandfather spun around in his chair to hand the newly repaired shoes to Ralik, he noticed the despair etched on his grandson’s face.

Now, boy, the cookies can’t be that bad, he prompted.

They feel like they’ll break my teeth, Ralik muttered uselessly, as he took the shoes in hand. They were old leather batts with an oversized wooden heel that resembled little more than bricks with a brass buckle attached to them.

Very well, conceded his grandfather. Tell her you have more deliveries to make, and you need to come straight back. Ralik’s face lifted a little, and he grinned at his granddad. It’s the truth. I’ll be finished with Mr. Lankinshot’s boots by the time you are done, so hurry back!

Ralik placed the shoes in a large cloth sack and ran out the door. The day was warm and sported a cool breeze that heralded the waning days of the growing season. Townsfolk strolled the walkways of the main street looking into shops or unloading goods from wagons. The sharp clang of Mr. Lasnet’s blacksmith’s hammer could be heard in the distance over the people haggling prices in the square just up the street. Ralik knew it was best to stay on the main streets among lots of people, but Mrs. Reglo’s house was halfway across town from his grandfather’s cobbler shop. If he took a short cut, he might have time to stop by Madam Lilapop’s sweet shop for some sugared raisins after the delivery. Ralik felt a little bump at his leg and looked down to see a small, fuzzy white dog gazing at him adoringly through huge black eyes.

Hello, Knickers. The little dog barked and began to jump up and down. Have you gotten out of Mrs. Courdock’s yard again? Knickers barked happily and began to run figure eights around Ralik’s legs. Mrs. Courdock would be calling out the town guard if she found Knickers gone. Her house was just a few blocks over from where Knickers had found him, but the thought of those sweet sugar raisins were too enticing. On a warm day like this they would melt in his mouth, so Ralik dove down the next alley and began to pick his way towards Mrs. Reglo’s house, her shoes slung over his shoulder and Knickers at his heels, panting happily.

He had turned several corners when he came to a dead halt. He had heard a sound that made his blood run cold. He listened, hardly breathing, straining his ears for that sound to repeat. The booming voice of a young boy, along with the laughter of several other children, shattered the silence of the alleyway. He heard Knickers give a small growl behind him. The voice boomed again, closer this time, coming down one of the alleys toward Ralik. With the echo it was impossible to tell from which alley, but Ralik was sure it was the voice of Studus Richter. Ralik searched frantically for a place to hide. If Studus and his little gang saw him, they would chase him down, steal Mrs. Reglo’s shoes, and dump him head first into a trash heap, the smellier the better. Ralik dove behind some old wooden crates; little white Knickers next to him, just as Studus and his pals emerged from an alleyway. Anyone who saw Studus would find it obvious why Ralik feared him, since he was easily the biggest boy in town. At first glance some might mistake him for a full-grown man with his broad shoulders and meaty fists the size of porridge bowls, but his clean smooth face marked him as very much a youngster. Studus was so tall that the rest of the boys around him only matched his elbow in height. They began to push and jostle their way toward Ralik’s hiding spot, Studus leading the way as usual. Little Knickers seemed to have forgotten about Studus in light of the hide behind the crate game Ralik was now playing with him. He jumped up and down, panting and running circles around Ralik, as he crouched behind the barrier. Studus was coming closer. Ralik made a grab for the little dog, trying to hold him still, but Knickers deftly dodged away, running back out into the alley.

Hey, Studus, isn’t that Mrs. Courdock’s dog? chimed one of Studus’s cronies as the little dog darted back behind the crates.

Yeah, I think it is. That old bag will go ape when she finds her little pooch strung up by the tail on her clothes line, he cackled with glee. Let’s get him. Ralik scowled at the little dog.

Now you’ve done it, Knickers, he whispered in disgust. The thick air told him the trash was particularly rancid today. Studus and his gang were creeping up to the crates, calling out in falsely sweet voices for the little dog. Another few steps and they would be on both of them. Ralik eyed the old crates, stacked three high, and decided they were not very sturdy. One good push and they would topple, perhaps giving him enough time to make a quick escape.

Studus and his friends crept closer, still calling out to the little dog and snickering wickedly. Ralik waited until they were almost on top of him, then he set his shoulder against the wood and gave a hard push. The stack of crates groaned as Ralik heard the panicked voices of the boys on the other side. With a great crash, the stack descended on Studus and his friends, knocking them all to the ground and covering them with rotting, leftover bits of food. Ralik stood for a moment, paralyzed by the sight. Knickers sped down the alleyway with a yelp. Ralik’s eyes met Studus’s for an instant, and then Ralik turned and bolted toward the outskirts of town.

Teral! bellowed Studus from behind him. Ralik could hear the crack of wood and the shouted curses as Studus and his gang freed themselves from the mass of crates to give chase.

Teral, I’m gonna dump you in a trash heap so deep your feet will disappear, he heard Studus threaten. Ralik believed every word of it and forced his legs to pump faster. He shot inside an old dilapidated gate and sprinted up a grassy overgrown path. Running blindly, his only thought was to get away from Studus and his gang. Ralik ducked down another alley and followed it as it curved to the left, right into a dead end. Ralik could hear the voices of Studus and his gang down the alley through which he had just fled.

I think he went down this way, Studus, said one boy.

That leads right up to the Old Stullen Manor, stated another boy in a shaky voice. Ralik glanced behind him; he had indeed taken an alley that ended near one of the dilapidated walls of the old house. Its windows with their broken glass stared down at him mournfully. Ralik felt a chill run down his spine as he heard Studus snort at the other boy.

What’s the matter, Piggs? You scared of some old batty geezer? scoffed Studus. Ralik heard all the others laugh as they began to follow Studus down the alleyway toward him. There was no escape this time, no boxes to hide behind, and no gates to dash through. He was trapped. Studus rounded the corner and stopped, his cronies spreading out behind him. No place to run to now, eh, Teral? he teased. Whatcha got in the bag?

Ralik tried to hide the bag behind his back, but it was too late. If his grandfather found out that Studus had stolen another pair of shoes from him, he’d be scrubbing dried glue from pots for a week. The boys were now approaching Ralik from the far side of the dead end alleyway. He could see the look of sadistic glee in Studus’s eyes, like a cat that had trapped a mouse and was now thinking of all the cruel games it would enjoy, as long as the mouse still lived. They were almost upon him when a huge racket sounded from behind Studus, just around the corner. Several trash bins came rolling into the alley from behind the wall, followed by another huge crash, like several trash bins being slammed together at once. Then a large black, something, floated around the corner. Ralik couldn’t tell what it was with all the people in his way, but it looked like a huge, dark creature that had drunk too much. It issued low moaning sounds as it swayed to and fro, advancing down the alley toward them with lurching steps.

It’s Old Man Stullen! shrieked Piggs. They all howled in terror and scrambled to get away. Most hugged the wall as they sprinted around the creature, which seemed to make grabs for them as they passed. Studus tossed smaller boys aside like dolls in his attempt to flee. Some of the taller boys hoisted themselves over the wall behind Ralik, like deer clearing a fence, and disappeared from view. As their howling voices faded away, the black form advanced on Ralik, again issuing that low moan and a faint hint of a giggle.

He must be enjoying his maniacal joke, thought Ralik as he backed away from the figure and bumped into the wall behind him. Then the thing spoke.

Whoooooo beeee yooouuuu? intoned Old Man Stullen in a hollow voice. He seemed to be leaning severely to one side now and was having increased difficulty walking in a straight line. Ralik thought the voice sounded vaguely familiar. Whooo beeeee yoo-? The question was cut short as the top half of the creature seemed to slide off the bottom half, then both halves fell over together, caught up in the dark robe it wore. In a fit of laughter, two heads popped up out of the robe, and Ralik breathed a sigh of relief.

Did you see his face when he ran away, Ralik? asked Doran, while his little brother Gareth did his best imitation of Studus’s fat body running away at top speed. Ralik began to laugh. He had never been so glad to see his two best friends. Doran explained how he and Gareth caught a glimpse of him running from Studus and his gang. They saw that Ralik was heading for Old Stullen Manor and heard the others teasing Piggs about his fear. Impersonating looney old Stullen seemed perfect. When Ralik asked how they made that eerie moan, Doran fished a hastily fashioned horn made of paper from within the old, torn up robes. Gareth added that the robes came from one of the trash bins, but, seeing that they had little time, they could not get anything better.

Worked well enough for me, laughed Ralik.

Want to come with me to deliver Mrs. Reglo’s shoes? asked Ralik, holding up the cloth bag. Don’t worry, we don’t have to stay for cookies this time, he added at their hesitation.

Sure, and then you can come and feast with us! invited Doran. Ralik had always loved Mrs. Lasnet’s cooking, so he agreed. They delivered the shoes to Mrs. Reglo, who was very disappointed that the boys could not come in and have some cookies, and they tromped off to Doran’s house just up the street. It was only early evening, but the smells from Mrs. Lasnet’s kitchen were already wafting their way out onto the breeze. Tonight she had prepared a large ham along with potatoes and homemade bread. Ralik didn’t have to wait long for dinner as Mr. Lasnet arrived about an hour later, and the family sat down to the table. Mr. and Mrs. Lasnet were accustomed to having Ralik share their table. It wasn’t that Ralik’s grandmother was a bad cook, quite the contrary, but Ralik spent time with the two Lasnet boys almost every day. Doran and Gareth, having no other real friends in town, seemed always to get around to inviting him over. Ralik enjoyed it because the Lasnet’s usually had more expensive food at their table, and, with two boys, Mrs. Lasnet cooked large amounts, so they never went away from the table hungry. Ralik’s grandparents didn’t have a lot of money, and being older, they usually ate less. Because he was still hungry, Ralik’s stomach would often rumble at night as he tried to sleep.

The boys told Mr. Lasnet all about the way they had duped Studus and his gang into believing Old Man Stullen had come to capture them for his experiments, and saved Ralik from getting dumped in a trash heap. Mr. Lasnet smirked as he sliced a potato with his knife.

I wish that boy’s father would spend more time at home with his son and less at collecting other people’s money, stated Mrs. Lasnet. That’s the boy’s problem, no guidance. Studus’s father was the tax collector for the shire and spent weeks at a time away from home on tax collection routes. Studus had no mother; she had been killed several years before when a runaway cart from the market struck her in the back while she chatted with another woman at the town well. The cart sent her flailing into the well, which was very deep, and little Studus saw the whole thing. Since then, nothing and no one could control the boy. The servants at his large house stayed well away from him, for they were often the brunt of the boy’s jokes and vandalism. Otherwise, Studus ran the town; doing whatever he pleased while his father naively turned a blind eye to the whole thing. Perhaps he hoped Studus would grow out of his mischief, or maybe he didn’t know what to do with the boy and thus avoided the problem entirely with his collection duties.

A knock at the door interrupted Mrs. Lasnets musings on Studus and his father. Mr. Lasnet got up and answered the door. A man handed him a letter and promptly left. Mr. Lasnet came back to the table saying it was the herald with a special delivery and handed the letter to Doran. The letter was brownish yellow with a length of twine wrapped about it and a wax seal on the back. A large half moon over three wavy water lines could be seen pressed into the wax. Doran looked at it for a moment and then tore the letter open to read it silently. Ralik watched him closely. He had a bad feeling about that letter. His friend’s eyes lit up and a huge grin spread across his face causing Ralik’s stomach clenched in a knot. A huge lump