Spark of Fire: A Fantasy Adventure: Quest of the Guardians, #4

By S.R. Olson

After their recent failure in the realm of wind,
Guardians Jakin and Malakai are out of time. The
moons are coming into alignment and the Clock
of Judgment is winding down to zero.

Just days away from total planetary destruction,
their hide-out is under attack and their friends
are still King Faeran's prisoners. Now they must
face their enemy, who has amassed the largest
military force ever known. It's all-out war, and
they only have a few days to acquire the final two
pieces of the magical Te'eta.

Can they restore the magic, defeat evil, reset
the clock, and save the people they love—all
while the planet is breaking apart right under
their feet? Brave the chaos in the realm of fire
to find out—But watch out for airborne
killers, because they're everywhere...

Spark of Fire is the final episode in the
Quest of the Guardians series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.R. Olson
• Release date: May 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201328405

S.R. Olson

S.R. Olson has traveled throughout most of the lower-48 and has held many job positions including horse trainer, photographer, columnist, teacher, and snow-plow operator. She is an avid student of ancient history and cultures, as well as an armchair philosopher. All of which she injects into her fiction stories. Disabled by a back injury in 2006, she now lives in rural Minnesota with her two Miniature Pinschers, who keep her around because she has opposable thumbs and can open doors and stuff. She’s also a push-over when it comes to handing out doggy-treats.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Happy Birthday

What are they doing? Malakai asked, peeking through the bushes as chunks of the Marician Cliffs broke apart and fell into the sea.

The dirt and stone yielded to the onslaught of lightning and rain emanating from the Cloud City of Dai’awin. Colorful sheet lightning flashed around the perimeter of the city, putting on a display that would have been beautiful, if it wasn’t so terrifying for those who have been on the receiving end of its power. A gust of wind pelted them with rain as thunder crashed, echoing against the rocks.

They must have figured out the Maaoteo are hiding in the cliffs, Jakin said, pursing his lips. We shouldn’t have waited so long…

You needed to recover your health, Jakin, Malakai reminded him.

A torrent of rain burst from the underbelly of the city, washing away another layer of dirt. As the rain dissipated, a cluster of patrolmen darted in on their Coba dragonflies to examine the caves that had been exposed.

How long? Jakin turned to Alastair.

At this rate, a day…maybe two, Alastair said in Maaoteo, frowning.

Let’s get back, Jakin said. We’re going to have to evacuate the people before we go.

Fear clenched Malakai’s heart as he followed the others back to their mounts hidden near the abandoned village of Hope Flatts. Where will we hide so many people?

Galloping at speed, Malakai’s black gelding struggled to keep up with the swift-footed gazelles, but soon they were trotting into the hidden entrance to the stabling area of the underground city of Ba’aco. Malakai handed his horse over to the Maaoteo boy on stable duty, then followed Jakin into the city.

As they passed through the main community area, Malakai noticed a woman standing near the entrance to their quarters. He tapped Jakin on the arm. I’ll be right there, he said. I just need a minute.

Don’t be too long, Jakin said, nodding.

My prince, the woman said, bowing low as he approached.

He touched her arm. Please, that isn’t necessary. He wondered if he’d ever grow accustomed to the deference he received as the Prince of Surot.

The vest is finished, she said in Maaoteo, holding up the leather garment.

Malakai accepted it, admiring the intricate bronze and turquoise bead work. It’s beautiful, he murmured in Maaoteo. I will wear it with pride. Thank you.

The woman smiled, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears for her dead son. Then she bowed and turned away.

Malakai carried the vest into his quarters and laid it on the bed, pausing a moment to consider. In the time since he’d first met the woman so many months ago, he’d learned that the vest was part of a Maaoteo tradition. It was intended for the day her son reached manhood and was considered a warrior; with all the rights and privileges that came with it, such as marriage. Malakai wasn’t sure he was worthy of wearing the vest.

If I was still in Hornberry Draw there would have been a party with honey cakes and Hornberry pie. The whole village would have been celebrating. Girls would have looked at me differently and taken me more seriously as a prospective husband. And at some point, a select group of village men would have taken me aside and told me everything I need to know about being a man and what would be expected of me now. And when we returned, they would have offered me wine and speculated about which village girl I should marry. The next morning, when my head was still fuzzy from too much food and drink, my mother would have presented me with the large floor mat that she’d been weaving for months that I wasn’t supposed to know about—even though I fetched the colored dyes for her from Koss. She would have told me it was time to build my own cottage and choose a wife and give her grand-babies to spoil—

Malakai’s heart leapt. We’ll be rescuing Margo soon! It’d been hard to push Margo to the back of his mind these past months, knowing that he couldn’t just rush into King Faeran’s castle to save her—not without endangering everyone. But now, they were preparing to enter the realm of fire and rescuing Margo would be one of their top priorities—after they restored the Te’eta, of course.

Malakai?

Malakai flinched. I’m coming! he said, then quickly changed into the vest. He’d promised.

We’re going to have to cancel your birthday party, Jakin said, as Malakai entered the living area of their quarters.

I know. Malakai nodded. It’s okay. I was kind of dreading all the attention, anyway. He grimaced.

I thought you wouldn’t mind. Jakin grinned, moving toward the door. The Elders are waiting for us.

# # #

Jakin stared at the map carved into the stone wall of the council room, his brow scrunched. The approach of the Cloud City changed everything and he was doing mental gymnastics, trying to come up with a new plan—well aware of the others staring at his back and waiting for his orders. He turned to face them.

We need to get the very young and very old to safety before the city arrives, and then regroup our warriors for the attack on Kinsa Castle. Those plans haven’t changed. Jakin paused, a shuffling at the door distracting him. Tao! What are you—?

I fight too, Tao said, lowering himself onto a chair between Jaya and Alastair.

You’re not well, Jakin said, shaking his head.

Tira give herbs to kill parasite. Feel better already, Your Highness. Tao lifted his chin, his jaw set.

"You had worms?" Malakai blurted.

A few quiet chuckles were quickly suppressed by Tao’s glare.

Jakin studied Tao’s pale face, then nodded before sitting at the head of the table. Where can we hide the people who will not be joining us in battle?

There’s the old city beneath Hornberry Draw, Pyet, the Elder of Ba’aco said.

Or the cavern beneath the wastelands with the giants, Tao said. There’s a back entrance near the Trail of the Sun.

Jakin shook his head. Queen Tyr was clear—she will not help us further.

What if we go up to the Cloud City and find Caius? Malakai said. Maybe he can stop the city from coming this far.

Jakin chewed his lower lip. Does Caius have that much influence over Lord Ansa?

He’s on the Council of Dai’awin, Malakai said. Maybe he can convince them to search for us someplace else?

Jakin considered this option briefly. It’s too risky, and there’s no guarantee that Caius can change Lord Ansa’s mind. He turned to Pyet. Is there a traveler’s well near Hornberry Draw? Someplace secluded?

There are several along the edge of the Yellow Valley, and one near the dry river-bed where it meets the mountains.

We’ll take the people out that way, Jakin said, laying his hand on the Trah’ez box. I can force the water out of the wells of Ba’aco. They should be able to follow the water tunnels to one of those wells and sneak into the old city at night. The entrance is in the vineyard.

Pyet nodded. I know the one you refer to.

Be sure they take compasses and ropes with them, they might need them. Ladders, too.

Those who cannot climb can go in through the cave behind the old school at the top of the draw, too, Pyet said.

Hopefully the opening we made is still open, Jakin said, glancing at Malakai. And hasn’t been discovered.

Malakai cleared his throat. "Jakin…what if this is our chance to get the Dai’awin Trah’ez—before we go to Z’lea?"

Jakin studied Malakai’s face; he’d matured and grown more confident, more assertive—and braver—during his time in the Cloud City. What do you have in mind?

Malakai scooted his chair forward and leaned on the table. Well, what if we could take over the Cloud City? Then we wouldn’t have to fight them in Z’lea, and we’d have the Dai’awin Trah’ez when you’re ready for it.

We have limited warriors, Malakai…and limited time. If we engage with the Coba patrol now, we could lose many warriors before we even go to Z’lea.

"When I was at the Coba Culling, Simeena slipped me a note that said we are all slaves, Malakai said. I think she was trying to tell us that the skrunts could be our allies if they knew what was going on."

They’re servants, not soldiers… Jakin said, trying to be patient.

Malakai smiled. Actually, the men and boys do combat games to entertain the citizens. I think they might surprise us with their ability to fight. And they know how to ride the Cobas, too.

"It would help us if we didn’t have to battle the Cloud City and their forces, as well as Faeran’s…" Jakin said, reconsidering his position.

Let me and Luka go talk to Caius, Malakai said, glancing at Luka. We know our way around up there, and we still have our Dai’awin clothes, so we won’t stand out.

I won’t be able to go with you, Jakin said, studying Malakai’s face for any sign of fear or uncertainty.

Sir, Tao said, drawing Jakin’s gaze. There may be a way to ambush the Coba patrol, too…

I’m listening… Jakin said, giving Tao his full attention.

CHAPTER TWO

Rage

Ten year old Rain Waters heaved a heavy sigh as she glared across the table at fifteen year old Margo Fineweather in the kitchen of Kinsa Castle. Once again, Margo was wrapping her blue ribbon around its spool endlessly, while Rain did all the work.

These apples aren’t going to peel themselves, Rain said, trying to keep the bite out of her tone.

Margo ignored her.

Seriously, Margo, Rain said, trying again. Matilda said they all have to be done before she comes in to prepare supper, and there isn’t any way I can peel them all myself by then. You need to help.

I don’ feel like peelin’ apples, Margo said, turning away on her stool.

Well, I don’t feel like peeling apples, either, Rain said, scowling. But it has to be done! She dropped a peeled apple into the tub of water at her feet and reached for another. Look, she said, walking over to Margo’s side of the table. It isn’t hard. Just push the apple onto these prongs here and then turn the handle like this. She demonstrated. When it’s done, pull it off and drop the apple in the tub and the skin and core in the bucket.

My Papa taughts me t’ use a knife, Margo said.

Matilda won’t let us use sharp knives when she’s not here, Rain said. You know that.

Well, if’n I can’t do it my way, I ain’t doin’ it at all! Margo lifted her chin and smirked.

The clanging of buckets echoed in the hall outside the kitchen, announcing the return of Matilda Thorn. Margo darted to Rain’s tub and scooped out as many apples as she could, dropping them in her own tub just before Matilda entered the room.

Hey! Rain said. Peel your own apples!

What are you doing just standing around? Matilda smacked Rain on the back of the head. Get back to work!

"I’ve been doing all the work, Rain said, putting her hands on her hips. Margo hasn’t peeled any at all!"

Matilda bent over to look under the table. She’s peeled more than you have. Stop lying!

Rain stubbornly held back the tears that threatened. No, she hasn’t! She stole those from my tub!

She’s not that smart. Matilda snorted. She’s just a dumb Arh’et peasant. Now get these apples peeled by supper time or you’ll get a whipping!

Well, you might as well whip me then, Rain retorted, her frustration getting the best of her. Because there isn’t any way they’ll be done in time if she won’t help!

Matilda’s forearm caught Rain just below the throat and sent her flying backwards into the hall—where she landed on her backside and smacked her head on the floor. Stunned, the world started to spin, but Matilda charging at her from the kitchen like a raging bull gave her the burst of energy she needed to scramble away from Matilda’s kicking foot.

Get back here, you little brat! Matilda shrieked.

Rain leapt to her feet and sprinted away. Blinded by terror she ran down the hall and up the servant’s steps, shoving the door open and falling out into the main entrance hall—right at King Faeran’s feet. He and Major Garekk stared down at her as she started to scoot away.

Not so fast, Faeran said, lifting her to her feet.

Rain stared into his black eyes, panic gripping her and tying her tongue.

Come back here, girl! Matilda’s voice echoed up the servant’s stairs. Ah, there you are, she said, as she pushed open the door. Matilda startled, then curtsied. My apologies, Your Highness. She got away from me. Her gaze darted to Major Garekk, then back to Faeran.

Rain pleaded with Faeran with her eyes.

And why would she be running away, Ms. Thorn? Faeran asked.

She doesn’t want to peel apples for your party, Matilda said. She’s lazy—lazy and slow-moving and just plain difficult—all the time. And I need the apples for pie and applesauce for the party.

That’s a lot of apples for one little girl to peel, Faeran said, frowning.

Margo is helping her, Matilda said. A little, she added, glancing at Major Garekk.

Rain opened her mouth to object, then thought better of it.

See to it she does, Faeran said, nudging Rain toward Matilda. From what I’ve seen, Margo isn’t the best helper.

Rain twisted around to offer Faeran a small grateful smile, but he was already striding away, deep in conversation with Garekk.

You’re lucky you kept your mouth shut! Matilda hissed, shoving Rain toward the stairs, causing her to stumble down five of them at once. Clumsy idiot, Matilda said, giving Rain another push.

Rain grabbed at the wall to keep her balance and rushed down the steps ahead of Matilda so she couldn’t push her again. At the bottom, Matilda grabbed her arm and dragged her back to the kitchen. She lifted her up and dropped her on her stool with enough force to send a jolt of pain up Rain’s spine. She winced, tears threatening again, but she held them back.

Now get these apples done! Matilda said, pointing at the crates of apples. Matilda strode away, leaving Rain and Margo alone again.

Rain picked up an apple and shoved it onto the peeler, her anger simmering.

You should knows better than t’ lie ‘bout me, Margo said, rolling her ribbon on and off the spool. They ne’er believe you.

I wasn’t lying, and you know it! Rain said, flinging an apple peel across the table.

Margo answered with a whole apple.

Rain ducked, the apple just missing her head and splattering on the stove. I’m not cleaning that up, she said, glaring at Margo.

Margo chucked another apple at her, just grazing Rain’s shoulder.

Stop it! Rain said. You’re making a mess!

Margo continued to fling apples at Rain, forcing Rain to slide off her stool and hide under the edge of the table. The apples splattered across the stove and onto the floor.

Whoa there, girl! Major Garekk grabbed Margo’s arm and took the apple away from her. What’s going on here?

Rain peeked over the edge of the table just as Margo burst into mournful sobbing, pointing at Rain.

Garekk pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back. Easy now, he said. It can’t be as bad as all that. Garekk glanced around the room, his gaze settling on the long peeling on the floor at Margo’s end of the table. Then he gave Rain a look.

Let me help you clean up this mess, Garekk said, holding Margo away from him and lifting her chin with his fingers.

Margo’s lower lip quivered as she lowered her eyes.

Rain rolled her eyes, disgust washing over her as she went to the corner to get the broom, slipping on the smashed apples scattered across her end of the room.

Garekk grabbed a mop, washing the floor behind Rain’s sweeping.

Margo, clean off the top of the stove, Garekk said, tossing a rag across the table.

Margo tugged her spool of blue ribbon out of her pocket and started winding and unwinding it.

She won’t help, Rain muttered.

She can’t help it, Garekk said in a hushed tone. She had a bad time in the dungeon. Her mind is broken.

Rain scowled. It’s not so broken, she said. She fakes it.

Garekk’s startled gaze shot to Margo, then back to Rain. Are you sure? he asked, his eyes lighting up.

Rain nodded, confused by his reaction.

Garekk cleaned the apple bits off the stove and tossed them in the scrap bucket, then joined Margo at her end of the table. He pushed an apple onto the peeler. Here, he said. You turn the handle. He lifted her hand to the hand-crank, then gave her an encouraging smile. Margo slowly turned it, peeling the apple. See there, Garekk said, tossing the peeled apple into the tub. He grabbed another and pushed it onto the prongs.

Rain watched, mystified that Major Garekk would help her so much…but grateful that he was. She resumed peeling apples at her end of the table.

# # #

Captain Grung took a deep breath and then tapped on the door to King Faeran’s study.

Come!

Grung pushed the door open and stepped inside. King Faeran leaned over the table, staring at some scrolls, his fingers tracing the words while he read.

Faeran didn’t look up. What is it, Captain?

Grung hesitated, taken aback by the apparent return of Faeran’s youth. Uh, Your Grace…I’m here to report that we are unable to carry out your orders in the Yellow Valley. Grung braced himself for Faeran’s rage.

Faeran’s fingers froze on the parchment. Unable to carry out… he repeated, frowning. What does that mean, Captain?

Before we arrived— Grung said, squaring his shoulders. The Cloud City passed through. A storm flooded the valley, trapping all those old Maaoteo in the dungeons beneath the Yellow Castle. The men are trying to dig them out, but we are certain they are dead…Sir. The dungeon appears to be packed solid with mud, so we won’t be able to—

—carry out my orders. Faeran finished for him, standing upright, the scrolls forgotten for the moment. "Hm. Well, that is a problem," Faeran muttered.

Grung waited silently while Faeran went to the window and looked out at the tar-pits of Z’lea with their blue flames licking higher than usual. The minutes ticked by until Grung began to wonder if Faeran had forgotten him…or if he should leave.

Captain?

Yes, sir?

How many deserters have you executed?

Fourteen, sir.

Good. Faeran spun away from the window. We’ll use their heads instead. Disfigure them somehow. Mrs. Three-Feathers needs to believe her friends are dying because she won’t talk. Burn them or something. I want them delivered to the courtyard and put on pikes below her window, right away.

Grung thumped his fist on his chest. Right away, sir. He turned to leave.

Captain Grung?

Sir? He turned back.

Send someone to Koss. Have them ask around about Mrs. Three-Feathers. See if anyone knows her son’s name.

Will do, sir.

And don’t forget the meeting this afternoon.

CHAPTER THREE

Making Plans...

Where’s Lord Otue? King Faeran barked at Major Garekk as he entered the council chamber.

He’s on his way, Your Grace. He’s comin’ from the glass-blowing furnaces, Garekk said, sitting to Faeran’s right.

Good, Faeran said. Grung, have you placed the catapults as I instructed?

Yessir. Grung nodded. And I’ve assembled teams to practice using them—from the Z’lea regulars, so we don’t have peasant militia wandering everywhere.

Faeran nodded his approval.

I’m shorry I’m late, Your Grace, Otue said, as he stumbled through the door.

Faeran frowned, Otue was visibly tipsy. I thought you quit drinking?

Yesshir, Otue slurred. I mean, mosht of the time, Your Grace. But sitting in those caves wif the children…well, I thought it would be okay to have a glash or two. It’s so hot…

Faeran scowled. Have you made the big fire-balls I requested?

Almosht a thousand already, Your Grace. Otue took his place at the table. The children are working night and day.

I want at least double that amount before the party, Faeran said, glaring at Otue for emphasis. And see to it they are distributed to the catapults.

I will, Your Grace.

Garekk, go to the Cloud City and tell Lord Ansa to send the Sky Hawks here before the party. I want them under your command.

Garekk’s brow shot up. Ansa won’t like that, Your Grace.

I don’t care what Ansa thinks, Faeran snapped. The Sky Hawks will be a useful addition to our forces here. He’ll still have the Coba Patrol to guard his precious city.

Yessir, Garekk said, nodding.

And send a messenger to Lord Saba. I want all of his Wave Riders along the coast before the party. They’ll probably get cooked, but they’ll serve as an additional deterrent from an attack by sea.

Sir? Garekk leaned forward.

I intend to increase the heat the night of the party. The water along the coasts will be hotter than usual. But, it will force the Guardian and his little army of Maaoteo to come across the Forbidden Bridge—where we’ll be waiting for them.

I see, Garekk said.

Grung, have the Jax wasps in Koss brought back to Z’lea.

Yessir.

Garekk, send look-outs into the mountains to keep watch. Use the cavalry, they need the experience. But tell them I want to know the second they see the Maaoteo coming.

Right away, Your Grace.

Faeran scowled at Otue for a moment. If there was more time, I’d replace the drunkard… Lord Otue, if your drinking screws this up, I’ll feed you to the Jax wasps myself.

Yesshir…

# # #

I’ll be fine, Malakai said, forcing a smile to his lips as he glanced around the Maaoteo council room.

If you have any doubts, now is the time to say so, Jakin said.

Malakai squirmed under the intensity of the Elders staring at him. Luka and I spent months in the Cloud City on our own, Malakai reminded them.

They weren’t looking for you then, Jakin said. And they know your faces, now.

True. Malakai shrugged. But we’ll be sneaking in late at night and this time we know our way around. Besides, there isn’t any other way to contact Caius.

"Maybe I should go, Jakin said, tapping his fingers on the table. I’ll talk to Caius and then go to Z’lea."

Malakai frowned. "There isn’t time for you to do both. I can do this, Jakin. Besides, if we’re captured they’ll just think I’m Saba’s servant Cedar, and Luka is just a skrunt. But if you are captured…"

Jakin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and brow scrunched. Alright, but if you’re not able to find Caius before daybreak, I want you to steal a couple of Cobas and get out of there so you can warn Jaya and Tao.

Malakai nodded. We will. I promise. He glanced at Luka. Luka nodded his agreement.

Okay, then, Jakin said, shifting in his seat and leaning on the table. Is everyone clear about the plan? Jaya?

Ba’at warriors will be ready, Jaya said.

The people are already gathering in the tunnels, Pyet said. They are ready when you open the way for them.

Yellow darts have been given to the volunteers, Tao said. Gabriella will give the signal.

Gabriella nodded.

Any questions? Jakin glanced around the table. Pyet, were the people able to finish enough of those mirror shields?

We ran out of mirrors, but there are enough shields for the gazelle riders and most of our ground forces.

Jakin nodded. It will have to do. He glanced over at Jaya, who would be leading the Ba’at warriors into battle. Be sure to warn your warriors about the sun-lances. They only burn a little at night, but by day they can slice right through you.

Jaya gave a single nod.

If our plan works, when do you want us in Z’lea? Malakai asked.

Jakin stood and went to the map on the wall of the council room. The Turning of the Year celebration starts at sundown, five days from now. We’ll have seven hours before the Moons are fully aligned. Jakin turned to face the group. "Faeran will be expecting us to do something, but he won’t be expecting a full scale attack…I hope. Jakin ran his hand through his dark hair. The Te’eta can only be reunited when the moons are fully aligned and I’ll need time to retrieve the remaining Trah’ez from Z’lea and Dai’awin first. I just hope Joziah found a suitable crystal. Jakin sighed. The timing is going to be sticky and when I take the Trah’ez there’s going to be chaos—which will make everything harder. He stared at the floor for a moment, then looked over at Malakai. Be late to the party—but not too late."

How will we find you? Malakai asked, suddenly worried.

I’ll find a way to get to the Cloud City, Jakin said. You just concentrate on your part.

Malakai nodded, then took a deep breath and turned to Luka. Let’s go get ready. They rose from their seats and walked toward the door.

Malakai. Jakin came to his side. "It will take all of our magic to pull this off. Don’t wait for me if you get in a jam. Use your gifts—use the magic. The only thing that matters is restoring the Te’eta and solving the riddle. Remember that."

Malakai gulped, then nodded. Okay.

Take this, Jakin said.

Malakai frowned. Queen Anthia’s journal?

I just feel like you should have it, Jakin said.

CHAPTER FOUR

The ball starts rolling...

Jakin paused beside the desk in his quarters to stare down at the Te’eta scroll. He’d studied every page multiple times, hoping to find some hint about why he’d been thrown forward in time—and how to go back to his own time—where he might be able to save Jessamyne. But the pages had been filled with history and spells pertaining