How to Unlock a Magic Door: Black Friar Quest, #2

By James Maxstadt

Doors that can't be seen, and a man without a face. . .

 

Those are just two of the things that Shane and his friends encounter at Bethun's Academy of Stagecraft and Mummery. Which wasn't exactly on the agenda of Shane's quest to find the mysterious Black Friars and rescue his friend Talia from their clutches.

 

Ugrudor and the Hollow Lands behind them, Shane and Gramlin escort the beautiful Marilee to Mossberg, so that she can pursue her life-long dream of becoming an actress. But when faced with Marilee's imminent departure, Shane realizes how much he's grown to care for her. Unfortunately, having a demon sharing his head isn't ideal for intimate moments. . .

 

Soon, he finds himself writing a play and chasing a faceless man through the halls of the acting school. Then he needs to do his own running—from a sorceress who's determined to banish Mergos back to Hell.

 

Things turn serious when a new friend goes missing and get even more dire when only a small piece of her turns back up.

 

Shane never wanted to be involved in the theater. He just wanted Marilee to be happy and to continue his own quest. But now, he must solve this new mystery before either of those things can happen.

 

Black Friar Quest: Book Two

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Maxstadt
• Release date: Dec 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215404164

James Maxstadt

James is the author of more than fifteen fantasy novels. He loves writing books with quirky characters that are full of action, humor, and a lot of adventure. A fan of fantasy since he was young, James thinks a good story that can take a person away from their everyday life is something worth reading. He’s found over the last several years that writing such stories can be just as rewarding. When he does have his head in this world, he can usually be found relaxing at home with his beautiful wife Barb, doing some home renovation or woodworking project, or signing books at comic conventions and Renaissance Faires. Follow him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/DukeGrandfather

Book preview

Prologue

LYRA STILL DIDN’T KNOW the man’s name. When she’d entered the Gray Friar Inn the next morning after he’d arrived, she’d expected that he’d be gone. He wasn’t. He was still sitting at the same table, the same mug of beer that she’d drawn the night before in front of him. Well, the mug was still there, the beer was gone. At some point, he must have awoken and drank it.

I’m surprised to see you, she said, heading behind the bar to be closer to the crossbow she kept there.

Not much rattled Lyra Steelclaw. She had fought with or loved almost everything that walked on the Creator’s green earth and knew her own capabilities better than anyone else. There was something about this one, though... something that made her positive that, if push came to shove, she’d be the one on the short end of the stick.

Be that as it may, he hadn’t done anything threatening. On the contrary, he’d seemed almost unsure of himself when he came into the Inn the night before. Like he wasn’t really sure what he was doing there or how he should act around those present. When he’d sat and allowed himself to relax, he’d promptly fallen asleep.

Still... there was something about him.

So, what’s your name? she asked casually, picking up an already clean stoneware mug and wiping at it.

Jaydon, the stranger replied. Jaydon Skullmayne.

The name meant nothing to her. She had been hoping that it would be one she recognized, one that told her a little of what to expect.

I’m Lyra Steelclaw, she said. Owner of this place.

Pleasure, he said. His voice was deep, but not so much that it rumbled, as might be expected from a man of his size.

What brings you here? she asked.

Nothing, really. Skullmayne’s shrug was like watching two mountains rise and fall under his strange cloak. To Lyra’s practiced eye, it almost seemed as if the cloak lifted on its own, just a fraction of a second before Jaydon’s shoulders did. I was just traveling.

And you’ve never heard of the Gray Friar Inn?

Should I have?

Lyra smiled and shook her head. This was what came of fame. When you were confronted with someone who didn’t know your name, it threw you for a loop. I guess not. Just most folks who wander this road have.

Oh. He looked down at the table. I’ve been... away. For a long time.

Prison. That was the first thing that went through her mind.

No, she decided after regarding him for a few more moments. He doesn’t have that feel. It wasn’t prison, or not exactly, anyway. This Jaydon Skullmayne was somewhere else.

Sounds like a story, she said. She drew two thick, dark mugs of beer— something suitable for a breakfast drink— and brought them to his table. She pulled out the chair opposite, sat, and slid one of the mugs to him. Care to tell it?

It’s not much of one, Skullmayne replied. And... He took the mug and sipped, as if to cover his hesitation. I think I’d rather look forward than back.

Lyra nodded. Understandable. And smart. So, then. Looking forward, how’d you like to stay here for a little while?

He looked as surprised by her offer as she was by the making of it. She’d had no intention of offering him any sort of job or living situation.

But as she raised her own mug to her lips and studied him over the rim, she realized why she had done it. Jaydon Skullmayne presented her with something she hadn’t had in many a year now.

Something vaguely threatening and mysterious.

Something new.

Chapter 1

CRAP, MUTTERED SHANE, as he hopped on one foot and vigorously shook the other.

Exactly so, Gram said happily. Pig this time, I think.

It was the third time in four days that Shane had stepped right in a pile of manure that his companions had missed by a mile. Gram because he never seemed to even notice it, and Marilee because she apparently kept her eyes open better than he did.

I’m getting tired of this, Shane said.

Watch where you’re going, then, Marilee told him. It’s not hard.

You wouldn’t think so, Shane thought to himself. But if there was something foul to step in, chances were Shane was going to find it the hard way. If there was a rock to trip on, he was the one going head over heels.

Then again, every now and then, his strange sort of luck worked out well, and his stumble ended up being the exact thing he should have done. He just wished he didn’t have to step in so many piles of dung to pay for it. Especially in front of Marilee!

He glanced at the girl walking next to him. She really was very pretty, and Shane enjoyed talking to her more than he ever had any other girl—  almost more than any other person. It was a shame that they were going to have to part ways soon. Marilee would stay in Mossberg to pursue her dream of being an actress, while Shane continued on his quest to rescue his friend Talia from the Black Friars.

He’d already been at it for far too long. The demon, Mirkorak, had tied them up for a good amount of time, and, even if they had discovered the whereabouts of the elven hero, Nuvian, it was a delay that Shane could ill-afford. Who knew what was happening to Talia in the hands of the Black Friars?

Shane meant that literally. No one could know, because no one truly knew who the Black Friars were or what they wanted. Shane only knew that they were the ones who took Talia because Othor had told him so. Othor was the most experienced, capable person Shane had ever met, at least until hiring Gram to accompany him. Gram was like Othor in a lot of ways, except that he was still out here on the road, living a life of adventure, while Othor had retired to the tiny village of Farmingham.

Shane’s sigh must have drawn Marilee’s attention.

What’s wrong?

Nothing. Just thinking of home.

Your little village. Do you miss it that much?

Shane was about to say that yes, he did, but the words died on his lips. He really wasn’t sure if he actually did miss the place. He certainly missed the idea of it, but as for living there? Well, he wasn’t quite sure he’d seen enough of the world to consider that quite yet.

It had only been three days journey from Farmingham to the Gray Friar Inn, where he’d met Gram, and then only two more days from there to where he’d picked the Afedil flower and kicked off their whole adventure in Ugrudor and the Hollow Lands. The adventure Marilee had forcibly missed. She’d finally forgiven Shane for that sin after a few hours on the road.

Now, here they were four days later, approaching the town of Mossberg, which, from all accounts, was substantially bigger than Farmingham. Shane had been given to understand that the Inn was the halfway mark between the two points, but that hadn’t turned out to be true at all. When he’d questioned Gram about that, the older man had simply shrugged, saying it was close enough.

Shane didn’t buy it. Close enough? How was one supposed to prepare for a trip? How did you know how much food and water to bring if you couldn’t be sure how far away something was?

It was frustrating, and Shane had decided that he would keep careful notes. When all was said and done, he’d draw a map of the surrounding areas, complete to scale, so that future travelers would have something to go by.

Hello? Marilee waved a hand in his front of his face. Are you in there?

With a start, Shane realized that her question about missing his home had led him down a winding path in his head, and he hadn’t answered her.

Sorry. Yes, I miss Farmingham. But I’m not ready to go back yet.

Of course not. You haven’t found your girlfriend yet.

Talia isn’t my girlfriend. The thought of Marilee thinking Shane was in love with another girl set his stomach to burning. He stifled a burp. She’s just a friend. Someone I’ve known since we were both kids, and she needs help.

Marilee bumped into him with her shoulder. You’re fun to rile up.

Shane grinned weakly. If she’d truly meant to get him going, she certainly did a good job. It was hard to see Gram’s face from where he was walking slightly in front of them, but Shane thought he saw a quick grin flash across it. For his part, Gram was convinced that Shane was captivated by Marilee.

He was. There was no sense in denying it, at least not to himself. She was so pretty, and she was smart, and she knew how to use a sword, and she’d be a great actress. Well, he amended that last when he thought back to their encounter with Jack O’Bedlam. Then, she hadn’t sounded very convincing as a distraught victim, and no one had really bought it.

Still, she was going to be great with a little training, which was why she had left her family’s business, Beorn’s Emporium, and joined Shane and Gram on the road.

Shane just wished he was going to be there to see her achieve her dream. As much as he might have wanted to, though, he had a duty to Talia. Maybe after they’d found and rescued her, they could all stop back in Mossberg to see Marilee on stage.

How much farther? he asked Gram.

Not far.

Which was what he’d been saying for the last day. Shane wasn’t sure that he believed it, but Gram was an experienced traveler. Maybe long distances seemed much shorter to him than they did Shane.

How far is not far? he pressed.

Another hour or so.

Really? All around them were wild fields, full of rocks, weeds, and the occasional leggy flower. The landscape had been that way for the past two days. Shane found it hard to believe that they’d be in a good-sized town in an hour. He wondered if the or so really meant another day.

Yep, Gram stopped to pack his pipe before putting the stem in his mouth and speaking around it. See for yourself.

He pointed, and, for the first time, Shane noticed a house. They hadn’t passed a single building of any type at all that whole morning. Now, there was one, set back from the dirt road, a thin plume of smoke rising from the chimney.

It was a mean little farm, with a thin path that led from the road to the house. Around the side was a half-falling down fence with what looked to be a few large swine held within.

Those might be the culprits of that pile you stepped in, Gram mused.

Thanks for reminding me, Shane said.

Pigs. Good for riding, good for eating.

Gram and Marilee hardly glanced at Shane as this voice came out of his mouth. It was like Shane’s own voice, only with a certain inherent sinister tone to it. They’d all gotten used to the sudden comments from Mergos, the minor demon who shared Shane’s head.

The elves had offered to remove Mergos, but they didn’t have a suitable plan for what would happen to him. Shane couldn’t bear the thought of Mergos being cast out without a body, to slowly wither away and disappear forever, and had promised him that he wouldn’t let that happen. So instead, he’d thanked the Lady Cithrel for her offer and let Mergos stay where he was.

Riding? Shane said.

Sure. They’re fast, hardy, and brave. Don’t you know anything about pigs?

I come from a farming village. There’s a pig in almost every yard. I’ve never known anyone to ride one. Or even try.

Huh. Missing out, Mergos said.

If you two are done, Gram cut in, I think we should continue on.

Don’t want to see if we can buy a pig as a steed? Mergos asked.

No. Gram sucked on his pipe and started down the road.

Don’t know what you’re missing, Mergos muttered and then fell silent.

Shane almost had to laugh at the demon’s antics. He was half-sure that Mergos was making up the whole thing about riding pigs. Then again, he didn’t feel that little buzz in his head that told him when the demon was lying.

It’s not much is it? Marilee said as they passed by the house.

No, it isn’t, Shane agreed. But who knows who lives there? Maybe they’ve fallen on hard times.

I hope so, she said. Then, she seemed to realize exactly what it was she had said. Oh! No. I don’t mean I hope they’ve fallen on hard times. I just mean that I hope... well, that Mossberg doesn’t...

She trailed off and Shane grinned. I know what you mean. You don’t want the whole town to be that seedy. I get it.

It’s not, Gram assured them both. But you’ll never see it if we don’t get moving.

They continued on, passing by the pig farm.

Shane glanced back once, when the place was nearly out of sight behind them. The door of the house was now open and someone, he couldn’t make out who or what it was, stood in the bare front yard watching them.

Chapter 2

SOMEONE’S WATCHING us, Shane said.

Gram glanced back, frowned, and stopped walking.

What is it? Marilee asked.

I’m not sure, the older man said. Why are they just standing there like that? We’ve moved on. We’re clearly no threat to them.

He knocked the ashes from his pipe and stowed it back inside his shirt. After a moment, he gave a grunt and started back in the direction they’d just come from.

Where are we going? Shane asked.

Gram looked at him sideways. Back to that farm, obviously.

Why? You already said the person should know we’re no threat to them.

"Yes, but we don’t know that they’re no threat to us."

Gram had a good point. Even Shane knew it was foolish to leave an enemy behind you. Chances are, this was just some lonely farmer, stepping out to take the air, when they noticed the little party of strangers moving down the road. There wasn’t much else to look at in the area, so they’d probably just been staring aimlessly.

But you never knew.

When they got closer, Shane was able to make out the farmer’s features. He was an older man, to judge by the stringy white hair that was unevenly cut. His back was slightly curved and he had a sharp, down-turned nose, so he bore a slight resemblance to a buzzard, especially since both his pants and shirt were black, although coated with a thin layer of dust.

The old man watched them approach with no sign of malice or fear.

Whither goest thou? he asked when Gram had closed to within a few paces.

Mossberg, Gram replied easily.

Sinful is yonder town. Best to be mindful to keep the Creator in your thoughts and hearts.

Of course, Gram said. Is there anything we can do for you?

Nay. I have my farm and my pigs. The Creator provides.

Shane began to relax. The farmer was nothing more than a slightly archaic, very devout, old man who was curious about the travelers and wished to warn them of what he considered dangers.

Then, the farmer turned his gaze to Shane.

This one belongs to such a place, he wheezed, his eyes opening further and burning with a feverish gleam. He will cometh into his own in the place of sinners and reprobates.

Excuse me? Shane said, not sure that the old man was talking about him.

The farmer didn’t reply. He made a swift hand gesture in a complicated pattern and spit on the ground at Shane’s feet.

Hey! But Shane didn’t say anything more and Mergos remained silent.

The farmer looked away from him and studied Marilee.

This one, he whispered, as if he were talking to himself. Great danger for her, I foresee. Fame, fortune, all can be hers, but what will she do to gain it? What will she attempt to keep it? And what will she do when it’s gone? Faithless woman, child of Mos Arqus. Thy doom is upon thee!

This time, he reached out a gnarled hand with long, thick fingernails, as if to stroke Marilee’s cheek.

She drew back away from him. Who are you calling faithless, you old—?

Thank you, grandfather, for the warning. Gram casually moved so that he was between the old man and Marilee. I’m glad we returned. We’ll be careful in Mossberg and keep the Creator in our hearts. His blessings upon you.

Gram bowed slightly, turned, took Marilee’s arm, and started away.

Shane continued to stare at the old man, until the farmer noticed, snarled, spit on the ground at Shane’s feet once again, and returned to his hovel.

What was that all about? Shane wondered.

Mergos didn’t answer, not even as they moved away from the farm and back toward Gram and Marilee.

Who does that old creep think he is? she was saying as Shane caught up. Faithless? What’s that supposed to mean? He doesn’t even know me!

Ignore it. Gram let go of her arm but kept his tone soothing. He’s just some crazy old farmer who’s spent too much time on his own. It doesn’t mean anything.

Marilee didn’t say anything else, but Shane could see the tightness in her jaw and tension in her shoulders. He was afraid that she was going to turn around and go back to give the farmer a piece of her mind.

"What was that place?" he asked, to try to deflect her anger.

A pig farm, Gram said, as if that explained everything. Marilee snorted and rolled her eyes.

No, not that, Shane said. Obviously, I know a pig farm. I meant that person, or place or whatever, that he mentioned.

Mos Arqus?

Yeah, that. What is it?

An old city. It’s been gone for centuries, maybe longer.

Oh. Shane walked on for a few steps. Well, then, how could Marilee be a child of it?

Gram sighed. I was really hoping you wouldn’t have asked me that, he muttered.

Why? The challenge in Marilee’s voice was evident. What does it mean? It means something bad, doesn’t it?

Bad? Well, no, not entirely. I mean, yes, it’s bad, but more like tragic.

So now I’m faithless and tragic? Marilee’s voice had gone dangerously flat.

"I’m not saying either of those things! Gram protested. I was going to just forget the whole thing, but Shane here had to ask about Mos Arqus."

Shane’s plan had backfired miserably. Instead of taking Marilee’s mind off the old man’s words, he’d only made it worse. Which, now that he thought about it, was bound to happen.

Ah, let’s forget it, he tried. So, you say we’re only an hour from Mossberg?

Marilee ignored him and kept her attention on Gram. Out with it. What was the deal with this Mos Arqus place?

It was a city, Gram said reluctantly.

You said that already.

Yes. So I did.

For one of the very few times since Shane had met him, Gram appeared to be unsettled.

He cleared his throat and pulled his pipe from his shirt, but Marilee put her hand over it. Talk first, she said.

Fine. Gram sighed, stuck the unfilled pipe between his teeth, and talked around it. Mos Arqus was a city to the north of here. Beyond the forests, beyond the hills. The ruins of the place are still there, should you care to visit. Not many do, though.

So far, you’ve told me nothing new, Marilee warned him.

Give me a moment, Gram said. I suppose the story will help pass the time between here and Mossberg anyway. Now, where was I?

Ruined city, which sounds nice, Mergos helpfully supplied.

Ah, right. Thanks. Of course, the city wasn’t always a ruin. As a matter of fact, at one time, it was a beacon, and not just for the north, but for the whole world.  This road we’re on now? It runs from east to the west, or the other way, depending on where you’re heading. There are other roads that branch from it and lead to cities, towns, or occasionally to nothing at all, but this one, and here Gram stomped his boot, "is the real road. The only one that matters.

It wasn’t always so. Once, long ago, this road split, far to the east of here, well beyond Mossberg, but before coming to the coast. Travelers could continue in that direction and come to Redreach and the ports that lead to far distant shores. More, however, took the fork and turned north, crossing through wild lands in complete and utter safety, secure in the knowledge that they were on the road to Mos Arqus.

They knew more than I do, Marilee said. Again, I ask, what was this soon-to-be-tragic city?

As I said, Gram continued. It was a beacon. It was a city that welcomed one and all. A place of learning. A haven for those seeking safety. A second-chance for those who’d made too many mistakes in their lives. It was a city completely unlike any other in the wide world.

Gram paused and then, in a dramatic tone, said, This city, was ruled, utterly and completely, by women.

He fell silent. Shane didn’t say a word. Perhaps it was strange for a city to be ruled by women? He really didn’t know. He’d never been to one and hadn’t ever given the matter too much thought. He knew kings and queens existed, and lords and ladies. He just always assumed that some places were run by a man and others by a woman.

Marilee must have felt the same way. And? You’re saying that like it’s a big deal.

Gram smiled. "You don’t understand. First of all, this was long ago, when the world wasn’t as... enlightened...  as it is now. Having a woman rule over anything, even her own house, was simply unheard of. Having them rule an entire city and have that city become the greatest the world had ever known? Well, that just couldn’t be.

And yet, it was. What’s more— and this is the other thing you aren’t grasping— is that Mos Arqus wasn’t simply ruled over by a queen, although it was. Every important position, from reigning monarch down to the sheriff, was a woman. Only women could hold positions of authority in Mos Arqus.

Gram stopped to fill his pipe, and this time, Marilee let him.

As you can imagine, Gram continued, smiling around his pipe, this made some people very unhappy.

Chapter 3

YES, GRAM CONTINUED. A lot of other people were very unhappy about Mos Arqus indeed. Some of them quite powerful in their own right.

They walked on in silence for a few moments, passing houses more frequently. While none had the same decrepit appearance of the pig farmer’s, they were still small, mostly ramshackle dwellings. Shane was glad that Gram was distracting Marilee with his story. It was going to be heartbreaking for her if she found Mossberg to be less than she was expecting.

One kingdom in particular was upset over the unnatural state of affairs in Mos Arqus, Gram continued. "The Trudora Empire, way to the east of Mos Arqus. Far off enough that the two kingdoms hardly interacted, had no need to, really. They didn’t compete for resources or trade, and they were distant enough from each other that their expanding realms were going to take years and years to come into direct contact with one another.

"But Trudora was ruled by Dharzul the Anointed One. He ruled in the name, and only at the mercy of, their great god, Bethor. Dharzul took the throne of Trudora when he was still just a boy. It was the standard story for the times. Their father, the emperor, was in poor health, so Dharzul helped him along to Bethor’s embrace, and then made sure his brothers joined him. Dharzul had sisters as well, but that didn’t matter. Women, no matter how noble, were not part of the succession. As a matter of fact, women were not part of much of anything in Trudora. They were there to serve the men, as Bethor had always intended the world to be.

Trudora was a harsh place. It still is, should you ever care to visit. Yep, they’re still there, still worshiping Bethor, and still convinced that men were put here to rule and women to serve. I could never figure out why anyone would want to live there. If you ask me, it’s much more entertaining to have things on a more equal footing.

He stopped and sucked at his pipe thoughtfully.

Yes, he decided. "It’s much more interesting. Anyhow. Trudora was an expanding empire, but it grew its influence through war and intimidation. A harsh life made for hardy people, used to the cold or the heat, familiar with privation. Their army was feared by anyone who had heard of it, and what they wanted, they took. New lands were simply more wealth for Dharzul’s coffers and more grist for the mill that was his army.

"But, at the same time, hundreds of miles away, Mos Arqus continue to grow as well, and their army was also fierce. Beyond that, though, the differences were night and day. While Trudora expanded through conquest and used its army to take over and occupy the lands they wanted, Mos Arqus won over their neighbors by peaceful, enlightened influence. Their army was used to protect the people, to guard against those neighboring kingdoms who hadn’t seen the light yet. They had no need of armed conquest. They kept their army well-trained, well-supplied, and well-respected, so that any in the region knew not to try anything.

"For years, it went on like this, two great empires growing in the northern part of the world. One spreading across the map like a stain, while the other cast the lands around in a bountiful glow. While the name of Trudora and Dharzul were whispered and cursed, the name Mos Arqus was spoken of openly and with reverence.

It was only a matter of time before that word reached the ears of Dharzul. At first, he was merely annoyed that there was another empire, no matter how distant, that would dare rival his own. Then, as the priest class continued to whisper in his ear, he began to feel that Mos Arqus was an abomination in the world. One that he, as chief disciple of Bethor, had a sacred duty to erase from existence.

Gram stopped and knocked the ashes from his pipe, before shaking his head and chuckling.

It’s always that way, isn’t it? Someone thinks they’re doing the work of their god, when in reality, they’re only pushing forward their own petty ambitions and jealousies. He sighed. Some things never change.

So he attacked? Shane asked. In his mind, he could see the armies charging at each other: swords flashing, horses rearing, men— and women— screaming fierce war cries.

In a way. Gram’s grin turned nasty. Not the way you might think, however. Oh, he tried the conventional method first, but Dharzul was no fool. He sent what you might call an expeditionary force— including some of his most elite fighters— to test Mos Arqus. To see what their border defenses were. None of them returned.

The Mos Arqus army beat them that badly? Shane asked.

Gram shrugged. "Who knows? By the time they got to the border, they had already been cut to pieces. Remember, I said that the two kingdoms were far, far apart. The small army crossed many lands between the two points. Kingdoms that didn’t take calmly to a foreign army crossing what was theirs. They harassed and harried the Trudorans. Plus, all the normal pit-falls that plague any army on the move: weather, disease, wild animals, roaming monsters.

"Whether the Mos Arqus army had much to do with it or not remains up for debate. What is certain, though, was that after several months had passed and no word came back to him, Dharzul started to get even more worked up. The mere existence of Mos Arqus was like a thorn in his side. He couldn’t get them out of his head. Some say he heard the voice of Bethor, thundering at him to eliminate the abomination, slay the heretics. Maybe he did, who knows?

"He needed a different plan, however. Attacking wasn’t going to do