The Sword Stealers

By Sean Woody

When 14 year-old Dale Bonhams eccentric Uncle Ike buys her an unusual bottle at a garage sale, she is less than impressed. But Dale soon learns its terrifying secret after the bottle is accidentally broken and she is confronted with its prisoner, the malevolent and powerful Genie Lord Shrikescream. Together with her brother Dwayne, best friend Jill, and Uncle Ike, Dale finds herself caught in a deadly duel between Shrikescream and his archrival Lord Marcuros. At stake is the hand of the beautiful yet venomous Princess Allurie, heir to the Genie throne.

A dangerous and seemingly impossible quest lies before Dale and her friends. In only three days, they must find Excalibur, the sword of the legendary King Arthur for Shrikescream, so he may present it to the princess as a wedding gift. If the quest fails, Shrikescream promises the destruction of earth at his own hands.

Given a star sapphire alarm clock by Shrikescream to guide them on their quest, Dale and her friends are transported to a nightmare future where the vicious alien Mor-Drett have conquered earth, and the remnant of humanity battles against hopeless odds for their lives.

Dale and her friends must not only survive the Mor-drett, but also man-eating dinosaurs, poisonous fog, and worst of all, the wrath of Lord Marcuros, who tries to sabotage their quest.

Along the way, three strange companions join in the search for the sword: a brazen Pooka named Nibs, his loyal friend William, and TShren Lightfoot, prince of an alien world and fugitive from the Mor-Drett.

Dale Bonham has never been one to surrender or compromise her beliefs. But against such adversity, how can she and her friends survive and ensure that life as she knows it will go on?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468556988

Sean Woody

Sean Woody was born in Seattle, Washington in 1971. He became an enthusiast of fantasy upon watching Ray Harryhausen’s Jason and the Argonauts and Ralph Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings as a boy. He now hopes to share his love of the fantastic with young readers. The Sword Stealers is his first novel.

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© 2012 Sean Woody. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 8/14/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4685-5698-8 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-5699-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-5700-8 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012903703

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

Dedication

For Partner and Matootsie, of course.

Prologue

Allurie’s Suitor

At the edge of the Milky Way, on an island of obsidian nearly twice the size of earth, stood the eternal palace of Rognar the Just, king of the Genie. On this evening, as a great meteor storm shook the walls of the shimmering crystal palace, Lord Shrikescream strode confidently through the palace gate for a rare appearance. He intended to marry Rognar’s haughty daughter and then claim his rightful destiny as ruler of the Genie kingdom.

As Shrikescream’s lithe Genie form entered the main courtyard, he pondered the kingdom that would soon be his. Beauty of its kind could only be conceived in the outer limits of mortal imagination, and no mortal had yet beheld its magnificence. Like a city of crystal gossamer spun by Arachne herself, the palace appeared vulnerable in the destructive vacuum of deep space. Nevertheless, no force had chipped a shard of crystal from a minaret as long as Rognar had sat upon his throne, and so the palace sparkled. Its great towers burned as they had always done, unscathed and indifferent amid the stars, comets, and red gases of the cosmos. Shrikescream, too, would see to it that the palace remained strong and invulnerable. For the inhabitants, however, he had darker intentions.

Shrikescream walked quickly and with purpose, his cape trailing him like a black mist, his footsteps echoing on the obsidian tiles. He glanced at his reflection, cast thousands of times in the mirrors that lined the palace courtyard. Like all Genie kind, he stood well over thirty feet tall. In his own estimation, his dark hair, firm jaw, and patrician nose created an astonishingly handsome appearance. His proud lineage ran more extraordinary than Genie. He was an Efreet – one of the few Genies born in the very fires of creation. His clear, cold, violet eyes distinguished him most. He wore a swirling mix of black and violet robes to purposely enhance the focus on his eyes. When he stood among his brethren, most with orange- or red-colored eyes, he knew the contrast was profound, making him stand out like the king he would become among peasants.

Smiling now in the mirrors, Shrikescream accepted this moment as a satisfactory welcome for a peer of the infinite stars outside the palace walls. He softly hummed a song older than many of those stars. As he rounded a corner, an armored palace guard, holding two eldritch white tigers on chains, stopped him.

The beasts snarled at the Efreet, and the hackles on their necks stood. The guard tensed, and Shrikescream could read his inner conflict in his eyes. The fool was loyal to the princess. Should he allow the Efreet to pass?

Shrikescream smiled, then seized the guard by the breastplate with both hands and pulled him close. My friend, I’m not only His Majesty’s guest, but your future king, so if you would be so kind as to stay these brutes, I’ll consider forgiving your impertinence as my first order of business on the throne.

The guard tethered the chains and backed away, but the tigers resisted, their eyes and hatred following Shrikescream as he passed into the great throne room.

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As Shrikescream entered the throne room, he saw Rognar sitting in place on his throne, finishing one of the many voluptuous meals he enjoyed each day. A Genie of massive girth and cheerful bearing, he wore his beard like a cumulus cloud. His eyes nearly vanished into his paunch face when he smiled. Sewn from millions of shimmering sequins, his robe dazzled the eye. Shrikescream averted his gaze in annoyance.

Beside the king, lounging upon a settee in a shimmering green gown, lay the object of Shrikescream’s attention and the reason for his visit: Princess Allurie. He considered that her delicate features, milky-white face, and long, black silky hair would drive a mortal man mad with desire for her. Even accustomed to the beauty of many Genie women, Shrikescream gave pause. He studied her glaring green eyes with interest and curiosity.

At the foot of the settee sat a muscular Genie lord named Marcuros. He wore the armor and trinkets of a Genie knight. Under his heavy brow, piercing red eyes watched Shrikescream move across the floor.

Allurie stood immediately, and Marcuros followed, his hands clenched in boulder-sized fists.

Shrikescream observed the scene for a moment before tossing his cape to one side and bowing before the king. Your Majesty, he said cordially, your presence grows each time we meet.

Rognar smiled and shifted his immense bulk. Greetings, lad, and welcome to the palace. He offered a bowl to Shrikescream. Diamonds?

Thank you, Your Majesty, I’ve eaten.

Rognar shrugged and tossed several of the gems into his mouth, crunching them loudly.

Shrikescream waited patiently, smiling at Allurie and Marcuros.

Why are you here, Shrikescream? the princess demanded. I do not love you, and I never will. Marcuros is to be my consort.

Must you be rude? said the king, brushing shards from his beard.

Shrikescream’s brow darkened. The man cannot control his own wretched child, and yet he rules over us all. How things will change when the throne is mine.

Rognar’s gaze returned to the Efreet. Shrikescream tried to smile warmly.

I’m sorry, Lord Shrikescream, but my daughter has made up her foolish mind.

Shrikescream expected no less. He spoke quickly. Then, Your Majesty, I request a duel with Lord Marcuros.

The king nodded and smiled, obviously pleased. Very well. That right is yours.

Father! Allurie stamped her foot. A clap of thunder shook the palace.

Rognar held up his hand. A challenge has been made by a nobleman of equal rank to Lord Marcuros. The law will be honored.

But he is an Efreet. Allurie pointed at Shrikescream as if he might destroy them all at any moment. All he knows is malice and treachery. You act as if blind, Father.

Rognar rose from his throne in anger. "Allurie!"

Shrikescream smiled at Marcuros, who took one angry step forward before Allurie seized his arm. Shrikescream’s left eyebrow twitched, as it did only when he felt amused. Nothing but methane swims between that fool’s ears. This will be easier than tempting a mortal.

Pay her no heed, the king said, easing himself back into his seat. Shrikescream nodded, impressed by the king’s outburst. "Allurie, if a penchant for malice and treachery are reason enough for me to forbid a suitor seeking your hand, there is scarcely a Genie in this universe, much less a Genie nobleman, who is worthy. If Lord Shrikescream is a scoundrel, he is a wealthy, influential, and let us not forget, polite scoundrel."

Shrikescream bowed. I’m honored, Your Majesty.

The duel will proceed, the king continued. The victor will have my daughter’s hand in marriage, and will be prince when I abdicate the throne.

He coughed violently, and Shrikescream wondered if it was because of a shard of diamond lodged in his throat, or the thought of Allurie on the throne.

Rognar quickly drained a goblet. The law of engagement is chosen by the princess. Weave your web with care, Allurie, for once in place, it’s final.

But Father—

The king held up his hand. I give you one day.

Allurie stormed out of the throne room, cursing. Marcuros followed like a spurned dog.

PrologueAlluriesSuitor.jpg

Allurie’s Suitor

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Shrikescream spent the evening in the comfort of the palace, locking himself in his chamber so to be undisturbed while he meditated on his own plans.

Watching a passing comet, he chuckled as he thought about the princess’s proclamation: I do not love you, and I never will. Marcuros is to be my consort. Even if Shrikescream could feel love, it was irrelevant. When he considered it, the whole affair seemed comedic. The honorable duel, winning Allurie’s hand… in his mind, he already sat comfortably upon the throne.

In the Efreet Enclave, grinding enemies into dust upheld one’s honor. Winning meant putting a dagger in your brother’s back. He knew similar conventions flourished in the rest of the Genie dominion. In Rognar’s palace, however, sentimental notions about honor and fair play were revered, if only by the king himself.

Whatever trap Allurie tried to set for him, he would best Marcuros in any contest. He was smarter, faster, older, and wiser. If forced to play his hand at deceit to win the duel, he must do it exceptionally carefully. If he failed, he would lose his one chance at usurping the throne without leading an army to Rognar’s gate. To face the king in battle meant certain death.

I’m a master assassin. A poisoned petit four? No… still too many risks. For the thousandth time, Shrikescream brushed the thought aside. Keenly aware of his own formidability, especially in deceit, he smiled. Using Rognar’s kindness and brashness to his advantage would be the key. If it came to it, the good-natured and lazy king might not notice one small moment of trickery, right in front of his fat nose…

When his victory came, Shrikescream the Fearsome would be the first of the Efreet bloodline to sit upon the throne, and he planned to do so for a very long time. He first order of business would be to gradually undermine Allurie’s power. Then he would eliminate her permanently in a convenient accident and ordain himself king. Attempts would certainly be made on his life, especially by his future children. But that’s hardly a matter of concern now.

A servant brought wine, and Shrikescream ordered the girl to taste it first. Satisfied when she did not collapse, he raised the goblet to the fireplace in a toast.

All hail Shrikescream, king of the Genie! He emptied the wine in one gulp, then threw the goblet into the hearth.

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Still in his chamber the next evening, Shrikescream prepared once again to enter the throne room. With his thoughts on the coming battle, he threw aside his robes, revealing the midnight-hued armor he wore beneath. Then he reattached his cloak with the brooch his father had given him shortly before Shrikescream had murdered him. He paused to admire the beauty of the dragon’s eye in a mirror. He had slain the crystal dragon as a boy, forced by his father to prove himself a worthy member of the Efreet Enclave.

Like every Genie, Shrikescream knew the limits of his immortality. A bittersweet gift, he mused. He would live forever, yes, but if he encountered an adversary with the knowledge and power to kill him… The dragon had proven to be such an adversary.

Terrified, he had entered the monster’s lair alone and found it sleeping. He had hoped to take its head with one stroke of his blade as it slept, but the ring of the steel being drawn awoke it. The dragon attacked viciously, mauling Shrikescream’s chest and arms with teeth, claws, and razor-like armored skin and horns. Then the monster had swung its barbed tail, smashing Shrikescream to the ground.

His sword and his focus shattered, the boy had wildly unleashed a torrent of fire from his hands upon the monster while it held him down, its teeth on his throat. The fire only enraged it more.

Finally, desperate, he plunged his burning hands into its eyes, tearing one of them out and killing the dragon. Stunned by fear and his wounds, Shrikescream carried the eye out with him and presented it to his father. Although voicing disappointment that his son had survived the ordeal, his father had congratulated him on his victory.

His mother had set the eye in a wreath of platinum leaves, then drenched it in the Cosmic Fire, the very lifeblood of a Genie’s power. He had worn the brooch ever since, not as a symbol of defeating the dragon, but of defeating his father.

Shrikescream turned his gaze to his own face in the mirror, and saw the flicker of the brooch in his violet pupils. Tightening his bracers, he stepped away from the mirror and strode to the throne room.

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Shrikescream said nothing when he entered, but simply bowed before the king. When the throne belonged to him, all Genies would learn to salute him with the appropriate fist to the chest required in the Efreet Enclave. Not yet certain what he would choose as the penalty for refusal, he would begin with leniency. Torture, perhaps?

Allurie swaggered forward and put a scroll into his hand, her lips pursed in a cold smile. Shrikescream’s eyes darted first to the king, then to Marcuros. The king’s eyes sparkled with glee. Marcuros watched with his massive arms folded and his cherubic face grinning stupidly.

Shrikescream unrolled the scroll and read carefully. It was the princess’s right and obligation to write the law of engagement, and the scroll contained not only the details of how the duel would be fought, but the prize the two Genie lords would be fighting for, aside from Allurie herself.

Shrikescream frowned at Allurie’s sloppy runes. Perhaps the princess could not grasp the gravity of what the stakes held for her.

His opinion changed as he read. The Efreet cursed under his breath. Indeed, Allurie had put thought into the duel. He would pay a terribe penalty for her foresight.

Making sure his displeasure showed as little as possible, Shrikescream continued to read.

Compiled before him was a list of four prizes Allurie required him to present to her as wedding gifts to prove his worth as a husband. A bit eccentric, perhaps, but they’d not be difficult for an Efreet of his power to acquire. The first of the prizes listed was Excalibur. A mortal sword of great power, I believe, he thought.

Below the four prizes were written the rules of engagement. These presented him the greatest concern, so he skipped to them immediately.

Article 3: Shrikescream will be imprisoned on earth by banishment of the bottle, therein…

Shrikescream cursed again. Banishment of the bottle?

A rare occurence at best, banishment of the bottle was reserved for the most treacherous criminals, and was considered by many to be worse than banishment to the Starless Void. A Genie was first stripped of his powers, then imprisoned within a tiny glass bottle. The horror of that alone would disuade most. Afterward, he moldered in his prison until a mortal found the bottle and opened it. Then came the most horrific part of all. The Genie regained his powers, but not his freedom. He became the servant of that mortal and ten generations of his or her descendants. Shrikescream willed his hand not to tremble. No greater