Favian's Law

By Kurt Chambers

Thirty years pass in a flash of elven magic and Charlotte loses all those dear to her. She tries to put things right but is forced to return home, leaving Elderfield to face certain death.

She has no way to save him, but worst still, no way to save herself. The discovery that her own world is changed beyond recognition leaves her no choice but to give up her gateway forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kurt Chambers
• Release date: Dec 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9780957327962

Kurt Chambers

I am a writer of children's books, (Middle Grade.) My fantasy series first book, Truth Teller, is due to make its debut on the 25th January 2012. There are currently three books in the series, Truth Teller, The Wrath of Siren and Favian's Law. A forth book, Lost Magic, is still under development. I also have a fantasy/sci-fi novel, Unknown Reality, that I have just completed and is in the submission process. I have various other books in the pipeline including a MG novel aged at younger children, The World in Johnny's Back Garden and a fantasy adventure titled, Lost Childhood.

Book preview

Favian's Law

Kurt Chambers

Published by UK Children's Publishing

Copyright © 2016 by Kurt Chambers

Credits

Cover Artist: Dawné Dominique

ISBN 10: 095732796X

ISBN 13: 978-0-9573279-6-2

Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

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

Acknowledgements

A big thank you to Annie McMahon and Cassi Reed for their editing services. And especially to Dawné Dominique for her amazing cover artwork and the many hours of work she spent in helping me publish this novel.

I would also like to thank my friends from the Young Adult Novel Workshop. Their help, support and kindness over the years taught me so much, not only about writing, but also about friendship.

A special thank you to Gloria Gatchel for being the first person to read and review this story at the tender age of nine. Your encouragement was an inspiration to me.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

About the Author

More from this Author

CHAPTER ONE

THE SHOW

Favian sighed at the strange feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He massaged the back of his neck to ease his tension while studying the road signs, double checking the map he’d drawn on the back of an old brown envelope. This looks like the place, he mumbled, pulling off the motorway and heading into town. He looked for a newly built leisure centre, a huge building covered in white cladding, according to his agent, Preston.

Finding his destination with relative ease, he drove into the staff car park and climbed out of his vehicle, stretching his legs. A shudder ran down his spine. There was something strange about this town.

After staring at the building for a while, he noticed the emergency exit slightly ajar. He walked over to the huge door and gave it a nudge with his shoulder, cringing as the panic bar scraped noisily against the concrete floor. Hello. Is anyone home? he called, peering into the passageway beyond. He heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and quickly brushed himself down, trying to appear more presentable than he actually was.

The footsteps belonged to a stout little man wearing a scruffy pinstripe suit. Can I help you? He frowned at the sight of the tall figure standing before him.

I am Favian, clairvoyant extraordinaire, he announced with a smug grin. I believe you’ve been expecting me.

Ah, Favian. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, but it would sure make my job easier if everyone were as prompt as you. He offered his hand in greeting. I’m Brian, the floor manager. Pleased to meet you. Come with me and I’ll give you the grand tour. He turned and walked back down the hall, glancing over his shoulder to see if Favian followed.

Has this place got a bar? Favian asked, remaining in the same spot.

Brian stopped and looked back. Yes. These premises are fully licensed, of course.

Favian felt his discontent as soon as the words had left his mouth. Fantastic! Then lead the way, my friend.

The floor manager took him backstage where the panto was still in full swing. Performers in colourful Aladdin costumes rushed to and from the stage between huge sections of scenery painted with elaborate medieval houses. Favian watched with interest, relishing the senses the organised chaos provoked in him. His performance was immediately after the last show on Saturday night. He claimed to be a clairvoyant who could speak to departed loved ones, but the truth was he didn’t even believe in life after death himself. He did consider himself a clairvoyant, having the uncanny ability to tune in on other people’s thoughts and feelings, and used this ability to create a convincing stage show. After forming an ambience of intrigue with a short opening speech to a background of spooky music, he would prance around the stage, mentioning different names until he felt a reaction from someone in the audience. He would hone in on them and begin giving them bogus messages from the other side. He had done it so many times, he had it down to a fine art.

When Brian finished showing him around, Favian made himself comfortable at the end of the bar. Sitting alone, nursing a half empty glass, he watched the different people wandering around and tried to pinpoint the overpowering sensation that stirred up his insides.

Dismissing the nagging ache, he slipped comfortably into his own company in the corner of the public seating area until the bar became full then decided to go look for a hotel for the night. He wandered through the theatre’s plush surroundings with its bright red, deep pile carpet and exaggerated brass fittings on every door. Picking up a pizza along the way from the town, he flagged down a taxi. The drivers always knew the best places to find cheap accommodation in the area. They headed away from the town centre, but the strange sensation Favian felt since he arrived grew so intense it made his head spin.

The driver watched Favian closely in his mirror. Are you all right, mate? If you want me to pull over, just give me the nod.

I’m not going to be sick, if that’s what you’re worried about. Favian gave him a disapproving glare. How much further is this guest house?

Not far. A mile or so, tops.

Is there anything closer to the town centre?

That depends on how much you want to pay. The driver leaned back to rest his arm on the empty passenger seat. I thought you wanted somewhere cheap and cheerful?

Well, I’ve changed my mind. Take me to the cheapest place nearest the centre. Favian rubbed his temples. What was wrong with him?

You’re the boss! The driver turned around, heading back into town.

Despite being more expensive than he intended to pay, the hotel was in a higher class from his usual haunts. Reaching his room, he stripped down to the waist and threw his shirt over a chair placed at an angle in one corner.

He arranged his toothbrush and a few toiletries around the bathroom sink and stood staring at himself for a moment in the mirror. What is wrong with me? he asked his reflection, holding his head in his hands. This place is doing my head in! He crawled onto the large bed and soon fell asleep.

Three loud knocks woke him early the following morning. He climbed out of bed, still wearing the trousers he slept in all night. He answered the door to find a young maid holding a breakfast tray.

Good morning, sir. She offered him the tray.

He took it and closed the door with his foot, groaning as he glanced at his watch. He clambered back into bed and didn’t emerge again until gone eleven.

Rising from his sleep, Favian opened the curtains and examined his creased trousers in the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door. Looking around the room for his suitcase, it dawned on him he had left it in his car the night before, and all he had brought with him was his toothbrush and the few toiletries he always kept in his jacket pocket. Oh, darn, I’ve done it again, he groaned, spreading his trousers underneath the mattress in an attempt to straighten them while he had a quick shower.

Twenty minutes later, he stepped out of the hotel lobby into an icy cold wind and decided to walk back to the leisure centre so he could clear his head along the way. He brought a newspaper and stopped at a small café to grab some breakfast, even though it was almost lunch time.

Arriving back at his car, he opened the boot and took out the few things he needed for his show, including a change of clothing, then made his way back to the bar area. Ordering a drink, he noticed Brian walking in his direction and raised his glass towards him. Hair of the dog! he exclaimed.

Brian’s expression didn’t change. Is there anything you need me to arrange before tonight’s performance?

Favian handed him a compact disc from his inside pocket. If you could play this at the beginning and leave it running, that’s all I need, really.

Brian took the disc and examined it closely.

Oh, a bit of mood effect lighting wouldn’t go amiss, Favian continued. But I am sure I can leave that in your capable hands.

I will have a word with the lighting guys. Brian slipped the compact disc into the pocket of his scruffy pinstripe suit. You might have a job finding any spirits in this place. It’s brand spanking new. He gave a smirk.

Favian focused his gaze on the stumpy little man, irritated by his sarcastic remark. Do you ever find yourself wondering who is watching you from the other side, Brian? he asked, sensing Brian’s mood change as he spoke. You know what I mean, Brian. When you are all alone, doing whatever it is you do, and you get that weird feeling you’re being watched.

Don’t go pulling that stuff on me. I’m not into all that mystic mumbo-jumbo. With a huff, he walked away with his hand in the air.

Favian gave a wicked laugh. Gets ‘um every time. He chuckled, feeling inside his jacket for his mobile phone and finding it switched off. He switched it on, and it began bleeping immediately. Favian grinned at the list of twelve text messages, all from his agent, and all saying basically the same thing: give me a call ASAP, or words to that effect. He pressed the reply button, and his call was answered before the phone had rung twice.

"Favian,