Elfblood: Elfblood Trilogy, #1

By Kyra Dune

Charlie is an elfblood, descended of a conquered people brought to the brink of extinction in the aftermath of a long war. Being able to pass for human gives Charlie an advantage over most of his kind. Only those who look at his record or those he chooses to tell, need ever know his secret. Growing up in an orphanage is hard enough without having to live with that stigma.

When soldiers come and haul the kids off to a prison work camp, Charlie finds himself no longer able to hide the truth of what he is. If that isn't bad enough, the magic buried inside him is growing stronger and more out of control. As Charlie struggles with his own problems, and with the dangers of the work camp, he finds himself swept up in a much larger struggle, one whose outcome could decide the future of the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shadow Portal Books
• Release date: Feb 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386732198

Kyra Dune

Shadow Portal Books is an ebook publisher offering full publishing services at no outright cost to the author. We also offer paid services to self published authors.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The night was silent and starless, the sky hidden beneath charcoal clouds, so quiet Charlie could hear the sound of horses moving about within their stalls. He crouched low by the side of the stable, his heart beating erratically, and thought to himself that this was the stupidest thing he had ever done.

Charlie peeked around the corner. The house was dark. He licked his lips and took a breath to steady himself. Hands pressed flat against the rough, wooden wall, Charlie crept along the side of the stable, his eyes never leaving the house. Sweat slid down the side of his nose despite the chill of the night air.

He inched closer to the stable door. A few more steps and he would be inside, after that he had only to open the stalls, then slip away. The horses would take care of the rest themselves. Charlie’s foot struck some unseen thing in the darkness. It tipped over with a horrible clang that was thunderous in the silence.

Charlie froze with his gaze fixed on the backdoor. Minutes crawled by. Nothing happened. He let out a breath and reached for the iron handle on the stable door. The back porch light came on, casting a pale yellow glow across the steps.

It was pure instinct that made Charlie drop behind a pile of hay only seconds before the backdoor opened. The whine of the hinges cut through the night like a knife. A heavy booted foot stepped out onto the porch, accompanied by the click of a shotgun being snapped shut.

Charlie pressed a hand to his mouth in an attempt to stifle his rapid breath. What would it feel like to be shot? Would it hurt, or would he be dead before he even knew what hit him? A low

moan escaped his frozen lips. He began to shake, sure he was going to scream, sure he was going to die, sure he would never see fifteen.

The crack of the door shutting was so close to the sound of gunfire that Charlie did scream, but his throat was so tight it came out as nothing more than a squeak. The porch light went out. That was enough for Charlie. Forget the dare, forget Thomas, forget the consequences of running away, all he was thinking about now was getting far away from the business end of that shotgun.

Charlie crawled out from behind the hay and ran full out all the way back to the home.

The lights were out, as they were when he left, so at least no one had noticed him missing. Charlie jumped up, grabbed the top of the tall wooden fence, and swung himself over into the backyard. He crossed beneath the basketball hoop to the window of his room. All he wanted was to crawl into bed and pretend this night never happened. At least until tomorrow.

The window was shut tight. Charlie stared at it with a sinking feeling in his gut. He left the window open.  He was sure he did. But now it was shut and no way to open it from the outside. Thomas, it had to be, he was the only one who knew Charlie was out tonight.

The clouds broke and icy rain began to fall. Charlie leaned against the side of the house, his head hanging. There was only one option for him now, and he dreaded it.

It took three taps on the window before the curtains moved and Grant’s face appeared. He frowned at Charlie, slowly shaking his head, then pushed the window open. Get in here.

Charlie climbed up into the bedroom and stood staring down at the dark carpet, waiting for the lecture.

Shut the window.  You’re letting the rain in. Grant went over to his closet and pulled out a bathrobe. Here, put this on before you freeze to death.

Charlie peeled off his wet cloths and slipped into the robe. It was warm and soft against his shivering body. Well, thanks for the help. Guess I better get to bed. He started for the door.

Grant grabbed the collar of the robe and hauled him back. Not before you tell me what you were doing out in the rain at, he squinted at the wall clock, three in the morning.

I went for a walk?

Charlie, there was a warning tone in Grant’s voice, it’s too early for stories. Come on, what were you up to?

Charlie shrugged. I had something to do.

Grant studied his face and sighed. How bad is it this time? Can we expect a visit from the town constables?

It was just a stupid dare. Charlie scuffed his bare foot against the carpet. I didn’t even go through with it.

What kind of dare?

Does it matter?

Yes, it matters. And it will continue to matter so long as I’m the one cleaning up your messes and trying to keep you out of jail. So spill it.

Thomas dared me to sneak out to Mr. Gennel’s place and let his horses out of the stable. He flushed at the disapproval in Grant’s eyes. I wasn’t going to hurt them or steal them or anything like that. Besides, Thomas said if I did it he’d lay off me for a while.

But you didn’t do it?

No. Mr. Gennel came out the back door with a shotgun and I got scared. I ran away. It embarrassed him to admit that, even to Grant.

Damn it, Charlie, you could have gotten yourself killed. How many times have I told you not to let Thomas talk you into these things?

I know, I know. Charlie sank onto the edge of the bed. But you don’t understand. It’s easier to do what he says. A lot easier.

I know that. Grant lay a hand on his shoulder. But so long as you keep playing into his hands, things are only going to get worse. Someday he’s going to put you in real trouble, the kind of trouble I can’t get you out of. You need to grow a spine and make him back off before it’s too late.

Charlie stared at the floor, his eyes burning. It was a fine thing for Grant to stand there lecturing him about handling Thomas, when he was the only person that might stand a chance of reining him in and he wouldn’t even try.

Go on and get to bed before someone sees you’re gone.

Charlie rose and trudged toward the door. He was about to step into the hall, when Grant called his name. He looked over his shoulder. What?

What do you have to do, now that you couldn’t follow through on the dare?

You’ll find out at breakfast. Charlie’s stomach knotted at the mere thought of it. Along with everybody else.

CHAPTER TWO

Conversation fell silent as Charlie entered the dining room. All eyes fixed on him, confirming his fear that Thomas had already given everyone a heads up on what was about to happen.

Grant frowned, shaking his head, but made no move to interfere. Two tables over, Thomas leaned back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest, his face wearing that smug cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. Charlie crossed the room to his table, hating him more with every passing second.

Thomas kicked out a chair. Showtime. His buddies snickered.

Gritting his teeth, Charlie used the chair to climb up on the table. He stood there a long moment with his head hung, allowing his shaggy hair to hide his face. In that moment, he wished that Mr. Gennel had caught him. He thought he’d rather go to jail, or even be shot, than do this.

Thomas kicked the underside of the table, making Charlie jump. You lost the dare, he said, his voice low. Now pay up your end or you know what happens.

Charlie glanced at Peter, who was staring at him with wide brown eyes. Peter was the newest edition to their little family and reminded Charlie so much of himself at that age. It wasn’t easy to be seven and to find yourself dumped in a place like the home, with no one to protect you from guys like Thomas.

Keeping his eyes focused on the table, Charlie dropped his robe and started a slow walk, stark naked. The whistles and catcalls started, the laughter. Charlie couldn’t help but flush with shame, which only added to the amusement of the other boys. Surely he would drop dead from embarrassment before he reached the end of the table. He didn’t even make it halfway.

The dining room door banged open and Mr. Whinestone stormed into the room. What is going on in – Charlie! He marched up to the table, where Charlie now stood frozen in place. Get down from there this instant.

Charlie came back up the table at a quicker pace, grabbing his robe as he jumped off the end of the table. He wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved to see Mr. Whinestone or not, but at least his punishment would be less public than this.

Mr. Whinestone let Charlie get his robe back on before he grabbed him by the arm. I want silence in this room. His glare encompassed all the boys. Absolute silence. The next boy who so much as breaths loudly will get the whip.

The room fell mostly silent as the boys stifled their laughter and turned their eyes back to their plates. Mr. Whinestone hauled Charlie out of the room and all the way to the backdoor before releasing him.

I swear, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Mr. Whinestone said, shaking his head. Who put you up to this?

Charlie stared silently at the floor.

I know someone must have. I’ve been in charge of this place a long time, I’ve seen boys come and go, and I can see that you are not a bad boy. Misguided, perhaps, but not bad. So I want you to tell me, right now, who put you up to this?

Charlie continued to stare at the floor. Mr. Whinestone might have been in charge of the home, might have thought he knew everything that went on in it, but he might as well have been a door post for all that he saw.

I swear I don’t understand you at all, Mr. Whinestone said. "Protecting him won’t do you a

bit of good. It won’t earn you respect or friendship or whatever it is you’re looking for. Whoever this boy is, I can assure you that he is, right now, laughing at you and he will be laughing still harder if you take punishment he rightly deserves. So you tell me, right now, otherwise I’ll have to put you in the box."

Mr. Whinestone must have been a boy once, but he had obviously forgotten the experience. Telling on Thomas, getting him punished, that would only make things worse, not better. And, no matter how much pleasure it would give him to see Thomas get his comeuppance, Charlie knew such pleasure would be short lived.

Very well, Charlie, have it your way. Mr. Whinestone turned him around and marched him into the yard.

The box was a coffin sat up on its end and braced against the fence surrounding the backyard. Sweltering in the summer, frigid in the winter, the box stank of vomit and urine and sweat and tears no matter how throughly it was cleaned.

Mr. Whinestone unlocked the padlock and slid free the chain that held the door shut, then opened the box. I’ll give you one last chance to do the wise thing. Otherwise, I’ll have to put this on your record.

Charlie stared at the ground. What was one more black mark on his record? He was more concerned with the present than what doors his record might shut in the future. Thomas would come out of the box angry and he would take that anger out on Charlie, or worse, on Peter. So he held his tongue between his teeth and said nothing. The box was bad, but the alternative could only be worse. He would simply have to hold fast to the fact that Thomas would be eighteen next year and out of his life forever, and be content with that.

Charlie turned and backed into the box, watching the line of sky grow thinner as Mr. Whinestone pushed the door shut. There came a rattle of chain and the familiar snick of the padlock being closed.

Alone in the dark, trying not to gag on the smell, Charlie envisioned all the ways he would someday get his revenge. If only he had the nerve to follow through on any of them.

CHAPTER THREE

An hour can seem like an eternity when you’re locked alone in the dark, with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company. By the time Mr. Whinestone came to let him out, Charlie was sweating profusely, adding his