Mika Flint: Orion’S Crown

By Terry Carsten

Mika feels alone and mistreated. He has never felt special or good at anything. At thirteen years old, he finds out that he is a death angel. He learns that death has escaped, and now he is the only one with the power to capture it again. He has no idea how to use his powers, and there is an evil army of death angels that wants him dead. The clue to surviving lies with Orions Crown. Mika must master his powers, battle creatures he has never seen before, and become the kid he has always wanted to be. All of this happens as he travels to worlds that humans have never seen before with a group of the most unlikely friends. His goal is to find Orions Crown before its too late. Will he become the hero everyone wants him to be, or will he die in the quest?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499083743

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Terry Carsten.

Library of Congress Control Number:      2014918481

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-4990-8372-9

      Softcover      978-1-4990-8373-6

      eBook      978-1-4990-8374-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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.

Rev. date: 10/13/2014

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Contents

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

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 1

In a cold, dark attic, a young boy stood peering out of a window. After a few moments, he exhaled and muttered something to himself in a strange language. He then turned his head toward the floor and spoke softly.

It’s quiet tonight, perhaps a little too quiet for what’s in store, said the boy.

This boy was very skinny and dressed in all black. He wore a cloak that shimmered slightly from the light of the moon through the attic window. The boy was unnaturally tall for what might be considered normal. His height was somewhere around seven feet. Though he was tall, his face looked as though he couldn’t have been more than fourteen years old. As he spoke, his dimples gave off a boyish charm and innocence. His hair was as black as the night sky and appeared as though it was blowing in the breeze even though he was in a room blocked from the wind. His eyes were a pale white. One could assume from his lack of eye movement that he was blind, but somehow he appeared to be aware of everything happening around him.

We have more important concerns than how quiet the night is Andrew, spoke a very large man who was lying on the floor of the attic.

The large man held his stomach in pain as dust began to pour out from a wound he was concealing. His face was pale. His bright blue eyes grew faint with life, and his curly blond hair was shriveling up and dying with every second that passed. He looked much older than the boy standing at the window, at least by forty years. Yet their age didn’t seem to matter in this moment.

Why have you called me here? You know I can’t help you now. I can’t save you from them. They are coming. It’s only a matter of time, and then … Andrew paused.

I know that my time is over. I’ve already begun to return back to Divina. The curse is too strong. Which is why I haven’t called you here for me, said the man.

Then why? asked Andrew.

The man looked at the boy as if considering whether or not to continue on with what he wanted to say. Then he laid his head on the floor and stared off into the distance. It’s here, the man replied.

The boy turned around quickly. Though he was blind, you could almost swear that he was staring right into the man’s eyes.

You’re kidding, right? said Andrew.

Andrew. You are the only one I can trust. They will destroy it! You have to take it and hide it, pleaded the man. The man began to cry, but his tears turned into sand as they rolled down his face.

Do you know what you are asking of me? There is no other side for us, said Andrew.

Yes, there is, but only with your help. I’m asking you to choose to trust me. It is the future. It will save us all. It will bring me back one day, and right now only you can make that happen. Please, Andrew. You are the last hope, pleaded the man.

The boy stared at the man on the floor for a few moments. Then he slowly walked toward him. He knelt down beside the man and placed his hand on his forehead.

I have learned everything I know from you, so I will do what you have asked. I just pray that you are right, said Andrew.

I have taught you well, Andrew. Now do what you must, and know that I will see you again, said the man softly.

A tear fell from Andrew’s eye as he prepared himself. As it was in the beginning, said Andrew.

So shall it be again, responded the man.

A bright white light erupted from Andrew’s hand and consumed the man’s body. When the light faded, only a pile of dust remained. Andrew stood up and looked around the room. After a while, his pale eyes zeroed in on a box in a corner. He made his way over to the box and stretched out his hand. He paused suddenly as he heard an explosion from downstairs in the house. Then a man shouted.

I know you’re here, Grimmkin! Come out, you coward! You can’t hide from death forever! shouted the voice.

The boy looked again at the box and then over at the ashes.

I hope you’re right. We’re going to need you to be right, said Andrew.

Andrew grabbed the box with both hands and began to mutter to himself. Dust and dirt began to rise and swirl around the box faster and faster as a black glow began to shine from Andrew’s hands.

Check the attic! I know he’s here! someone yelled from another part of the house.

Andrew glanced at a hatch in the attic floor. He knew that it would only be seconds before he was discovered. He turned his attention back to the box. Now even the cloud of dust was completely taken over by the brightness of the light that was flowing from Andrew’s hands.

No turning back now, whispered Andrew to himself.

The light exploded with an incredible force that shattered the attic windows. Smoke filled the air, and it smelled as if someone had just lit a thousand matches. A small scorch mark was left on the floor where the box had been. Andrew jumped slightly as the hatch to the attic swung open. Andrew waved his hand, and with it made a small chair slide over to hide the place where the floor had been burned. He stood quickly and turned in just enough time to see a figure in a dark-maroon cloak ascending into the attic. The figure was nearly as tall as Andrew. He couldn’t see its face through the hood, but he could feel power coming from its body. Being around it felt like being drained of life. As the figure stepped onto the attic floor, he heard the clang of broken shackles that it wore around each leg. Andrew’s eyes immediately dropped down to a sword in the figure’s right hand. It had a pure-black stone blade, and smoke flowed from the gray stone handle.

Well, what do we have here? said the hooded figure.

Three men ascended into the attic following the hooded figure. All of them were dressed in dark-green robes. Their faces were covered by their hoods, but Andrew could sense the same power coming from them as he did the first being. The feeling of death grew in the room as they drew closer.

Lucien, I see you brought company this time. What a surprise, said Andrew.

Is it now? asked Lucien.

What a surprise to find you here, Andrew, said one of the green-robed men as he stepped forward, lowering his hood.

The man had short curly black hair that shined as though it were packed full of hair grease. He looked to be in his early thirties. He was very stocky, and his tan complexion made him look as though he spent his days lying on a beach.

Calm yourself, Redding, and search for the Grimmkin. That’s why we’re here, said Lucien.

There is no need. His light was extinguished. You can see for yourself, said Andrew, pointing to the pile of ashes.

Lucien walked over to the pile of ashes and stared for a while in deep concentration. Then he turned back to Andrew, who was standing calmly. Though Andrew couldn’t see Lucien’s face, he could tell that his calm demeanor was quickly fading.

Did he tell you anything? asked Lucien as he walked back toward Andrew.

Like what exactly? asked Andrew.

Anything. Did he tell you anything important? Anything that you think I should know? You see who holds the power now. Don’t be a fool. Choose the right side, said Lucien.

Lucien stared at Andrew through his cloak. The room was very tense as all waited for Andrew’s response.

Andrew! screamed Lucien.

Don’t lose your temper. It’s a bad sign for those who wish to aspire to real power. I extinguished his light. That is all you need to know, said Andrew calmly.

Everyone in the room simply stared at Andrew. No one responded. Lucien moved closer to Andrew and stood in front of him silently.

Leave us, Andrew. There is nothing more for you here. That is unless you want to do what’s best for the fellowship and bow down to me, spoke Lucien.

Andrew smiled at Lucien, as though he was very amused by his statement. I will always do what is best for the fellowship. Good-bye, Lucien, said Andrew.

He placed his right hand over his chest, and earth began to form and swirl around him. In a flash of black light, he vanished from their sight.

Lord Lucien! He was clearly hiding something! He must know where the weapon is! said Redding.

Of course he does. That’s why you’re going to follow him until he leads you to it, said Lucien.

He lifted his head just enough for the others to see his long gray beard that was tucked in under his cloak.

And when he leads us to it, my lord? asked Redding.

Destroy both him and the weapon, said Lucien.

Redding and the two other robed men placed their right hands over their chests and vanished in a swirl of dust and flash of black light.

Dust quickly began to swirl together on a playground just outside a middle school in Chicago, Illinois. After a few moments, Andrew stepped forth out of it. He paused and looked up at a clock tower that was placed near the edge of the street. It was just turning one o’clock in the morning. Though he was blind, somehow he seemed to know what time it was. He looked forward to the street in front of him and saw the box sitting in the middle of the road. He quickly made his way toward it. He leaned down and stretched out his right hand to open the box and then suddenly paused. He stood up slowly and turned to face the playground. Andrew stared at the spot where he had just materialized. The dust was still swirling. In a flash of black light, the three men in green from the attic appeared in the midst of the cloud of dust.

Hello, Andrew, said Redding as they all stepped into view.

Hi, guys. What took you so long? smirked Andrew.

The three men stretched out their right arms, and a staff appeared in their hands.

I take it that you have been told to kill me. Well, I would rather it not end this way. You can turn and leave now if you want. No more lights need to be extinguished tonight, said Andrew.

Redding laughed loudly. Andrew smiled slightly and bowed his head.

So be it, whispered Andrew.

The three men pointed their staffs at Andrew, and suddenly the earth began to shake. The ground around Andrew’s feet shot up and wrapped around his legs, trapping him in place. Andrew stretched out his hands, and a wall of stone shot straight up from the ground, separating Andrew from the three. Andrew closed his fists, and the wall of stone grew spikes that pointed straight at the three men.

Defenses! Redding shouted just as Andrew opened his hands again, and the spikes began to fly from the wall at the men like bullets from a gun.

Redding lifted his staff, and a wall of fire formed in front of him and his two men. The spikes hit the wall and exploded on contact into dust. Andrew slammed his hands together, and the entire wall went sliding across the earth and collided with Redding’s wall of fire, causing an explosion so strong that it sent all three men flying backward through the air, slamming hard into the playground equipment behind them.

Andrew then pointed his hands at the ground in front of him and yelled, Hear my words, I command you to rise!

The earth shook violently as it split in front of him, and an army of skeletons began to rise from the earth. Redding stared in disbelief as he made his way to his feet.

That’s not possible. Only a Grimmkin can control the dead! screamed Redding.

Redding was slowly backing away from the skeletons that were quickly advancing on him and his companions. Andrew pointed his hands at the stone wrapped around his feet, and it exploded off him. The skeleton army attacked the three men, pulling off pieces of their bones in the process to use as clubs. Andrew turned back toward the box and began to open it quickly. Behind him were explosions and flashes of green, red, and black light from where the men were using their powers to reap havoc on the army. Just as he opened the box, he heard the scream of one of the men. A skeleton soldier had just struck one of the men down using his femur as a baseball bat.

Andrew looked down into the box and froze in horror. The box was empty. He turned to look at the battle raging behind him and knew that his army wouldn’t last long. They were good for buying him time, but soon that time would be up. He began