Blood Moon: Dreadlands, #1

By Jaimie Engle

A new monster hunts the realm.

 

The Mayan Bat God, Camazotz, has been released. Once trapped within the mountain, Sorceress Edda has released him from his hundreds of years in captive to wreak havoc on Vithalia. Arud and Scalvia work together to bring human and ferine to unite against this werebat threat. However, Arud's little sister Lykke has other allegiances. Her treatment as a halfling Cur has left her feeling betrayed by mankind and she leaves to join the ferine, the shifter wolves that were once the enemy. Arud's uncle calls upon Vikings from other lands to arrive by sea and fight while Arud and Scalvia search for his father in the Great Beyond. Will they unite in time or fight blood against blood?

 

Blood Moon... Book Two in the Dreadlands Dodecad.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jaimie Engle
• Release date: Mar 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798390358689

Book preview

PRAISE FOR

JAIMIE ENGLE

Kirkus Editor’s Choice Book

Writers of the Future Award

Sunshine State & Land of Enchantment Book List contender

Quarterfinalist Publisher’s Weekly Book Life Prize Non-Fiction

Publisher’s Weekly Book Life Prize Fiction

Top Ten Book of the year Kid Lit Reviews

…the world Engle has created in this novel is an intriguing one, equal parts familiar and fantastic. Kirkus Reviews

…belongs on your bookshelf - young or old - right along with Tolkien and Grimm. –5-Star Review

I did not want to leave until the last page was turned. –Kid Lit Reviews

…the same kind of universe you might meet Captain Malcolm Reynolds or Luke Skywalker in. –The Story Sanctuary Reviews

…a dazzling, fresh plot. –5-Star Review

A tale presents troubled adolescence and romance through the eyes of a remarkable teen protagonist. –Kirkus Editor’s Choice & Review

Metal Mouth is a brilliantly original tale that explores many concerns countless people deal with every day… –Reader’s Choice Review

…a wry and wise romantic heartbreaker touched with mystery, lightning, and shivery hints of the supernatural. –Book Life Prize

…explained and explored thoroughly… structure and development is very well executed –Book Life Prize Non-Fiction

BOOKS BY JAIMIE ENGLE

FICTION

Clifton Chase and the Arrow of Light, Book 1

One boy is chosen to change history

Clifton Chase and the Arrow of Light, Coloring Book

Clifton Chase on Castle Rock, Book 2

The adventure continues, only this time it’s with Robin Hood

Pets of Elsewhere

Animal ghosts haunt a family to find redemption

The Dredge

Supernatural gifts are sought through deception in a future world

Dreadlands: Wolf Moon

A Viking boy must face shifting wolves or become their prey

Dreadlands: Blood Moon

Mayan lore, werebats, and a bat-god attack the realm

The Toilet Papers: Places to Go, While you Go

Short story collection of humor, horror, and historical for adults 16+

The Toilet Papers, Jr.

Short story collection of humor, horror, & fairy tales for kids 8-12

Metal Mouth

A girl's braces transmit a boy's voice after she’s struck by lightning

Just Jake

A country music singer falls back in love with his high school sweetheart

NON-FICTION

Clifton Chase and the Arrow of Light Teacher Guide

Write a Book that Doesn’t Suck! Book 1

Write a Film that Doesn’t Suck! Book 2

How to Publish Your Book

Writing Your Novel Using the Bible, Book 1

Writing Your Film Using the Bible, Book 2

www.JaimieEngle.com/books

DreadlandsBlood Moon

Jaimie Engle

JME BOOKS

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons,

Living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2023 Jaimie Engle

Cover design © 2023 Jaimie Engle

The text for this book is set in Fairfield LT

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

Published in the United States by JME Books,

a division of The Write Engle, LLC,

Visit us on the Web: jaimieengle.com

For an author visit or bulk order discounts, visit us at

JaimieEngle.com or email [e-mail].

Summary: Vikings, wolf-shifters, and Mayan lore tell the story of a family torn apart by society

ISBN‏ : ‎ 9798390358689

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

Stories with a Magic Touch

JME Books

For Riley Gish.

Thanks for pushing me to write this book.

PART ONE

Ψ VITHALIA CITY Ψ

Ψ ONE Ψ

Anew

Athousand years ago, the first Blood Moon rose over the realm of Vithalia.

Arud Bergson hated the ruddy moon when it filled the night sky. It was unnatural to see the white-washed orb glowing red. His people said the spilled blood of warring gods had stained it. He did not believe in the gods.

Not anymore.

His home lay in the Outlands of Vithalia, past the Torngats Mountains and the less travelled Sindri-Urd range. Beyond the Scythe Valley and the Tess Woods where Scalvia’s family hailed. Along the Thiannes River bordering the Great Expanse to the west.

Pilings sharpened by his father’s skilled hands surrounded their quaint home. The spears angled like the ragged teeth of a monster’s mouth to ward off the ferine, the wandering wolf-shifters of the full moons. In the Outlands, one never wandered too far from home.

Especially not after dark.

Until Arud’s mother, Vinter, sent him and his younger sister, Lykke, to Vithalia City for safekeeping. But along the way, they fought the ferine and the Great Mother in the valley, where Arud learned he and his sister were Cur, a human-wolf hybrid. A tangle of family secrets rooted deep in Vithalian soil unraveled after his mother died saving his life.

Somehow, though, he found himself back in a time when Vinter lived and Lykke played in the backyard, a bloodthirsty killer hiding beneath her innocent smile.

Let your brother work, said Vinter. Her arms, inked with Viking pride, pulled clothes off the line.

Lykke skipped around Arud like a wild rabbit. Arud does not mind, do you, Arud?

Vinter hid her smile. You are almost a woman. It is time you learn the ways of our people and your place among us.

But today, I am still a child.

Arud pinched his lips together as he picked apples. At the time, it hadn’t dawned on him how the trees sprouted fruit midwinter.

Sunset melted into the horizon. The night will soon devour the sun, Vinter continued, and there is much work to do. She beheld her children, but her eyes faltered briefly. Arud knew why. Father was still not home from the market in Marknaðr.

Darkness fell quickly and Vinter’s worry grew. Yes, but that does not mean—

The back door creaked open, and the world froze. Grandmother Toov hovered in the doorway. Her calloused hands gripped the cat head of her walking stick, its emerald eyes alight, like hers, by some force within. Leathery skin bore ages of time beyond her years. A wicked smile revealed wicked intentions. I see Berg is not back from Marknaðr.

No, Mother. Not yet.

Pity.

With each step across the stone stoop, the orange sky morphed into a spectrum of purplish grays. The temperature plunged with each tap-tap-tap of her walking stick. Arud shivered. Vinter’s relaxed posture stiffened as her mother neared.

What is all this laughter for, Lykke? Toov asked. I can hardly concentrate inside the house.

Lykke, unaffected by the witch’s magic, skipped over to her. I am sorry, Grandmother. It is too splendid of a day to waste indoors. Then Lykke’s countenance fell, and she added, Though it has become so cold and dark.

Sunset sky spun to reveal shimmering stars in a velvety black sky. A mist rolled in. Howling pierced the pitch. Shivering boughs rattled leaves into a frenzy. Through the mist, Toov emerged in her Cur form, that of a midnight black wolf. Instinct kicked in and Arud grabbed a bolt, hand-carved by his father, from the quiver now hanging on his back.

Where was Father now?

Toov stared through glowing yellow eyes.

Arud advanced, crossbow loaded to strike. You cannot have her, he said, somehow knowing Toov planned on stealing Lykke away.

Oh, but I already have, the witch whispered through mange.

Arud scanned for his sister, no longer in the backyard, no longer protected by the perimeter of pilings. Toov launched and Arud released a bolt into his shifted grandmother’s soft underbelly. The blow knocked her to the ground. Blood pooled beneath her. Arud readied a second bolt in case his first failed, like his father taught him.

Where was Father?

But as he stood over the wolf-shifter and it morphed into human form, the dead body he hovered above was not Toov.

It was Lykke.

Ψ Ψ Ψ

The nightmare shook Arud from slumber, where he laid on a bed in an unfamiliar setting. The contrast of whitewashed stone against the dark rocks from his home in the Outlands, reminded him he was a stranger in his uncle’s castle. Still, he drew comfort in the safekeeping of Vithalia City, his new home, a fortified monstrosity beyond the breakers in the Vithalian Sea. He sighed in relief knowing the encounter with Toov was only a dream, for his grandmother no longer lived.

The door to his room opened, and Lykke rushed inside. Arud! You are awake!

Come here, you. He pulled her into a bear hug.

I thought you would sleep forever.

Has it been so long? Have a dozen moons streaked the sky since I last held you? He tickled her ribs.

Not even one, she blurted through giggles. Still, I missed you so. There is much to explore and see in Vithalia. You must dress and let me show you everything.

Lykke, let your brother wake in peace. Scalvia stood in the opened doorway, the bewitching Cur who joined their party and stole Arud’s heart. Raven black hair swooped across one shoulder. Ruby red lips beckoned him for more than a smile.

Good morrow, maiden.

Good morrow. I trust you slept well?

Warmth filled him as he and Scalvia shared a lingering moment. He longed to be alone with her, to hold her and feel her milky-white skin against his own. But those fantasies would need to wait for later. Self-consciously, Arud ran his hand through his hair. I did, thank you.

You lie, betrayed Lykke. Your sleep came restless. Did you dream of Mother? Of Father?

The image of Lykke laying dead by his own bolt flashed into his mind.

Oh, I miss them, so, she continued. When will we see Father again? Will it be much longer until he returns?

Arud frowned. There has been no word from Father?

Lykke lowered her chin. None, I am afraid.

Scalvia scooted into the room, her role as Lykke’s caretaker solidified. Now, we must let your brother rest. There will be plenty of time to reacquaint after he has freshened up. Scalvia held out her hand. Come, Lykke. Let us leave Arud for now.

Lykke pecked Arud on the cheek. Make haste, brother. There is much to see and do in the castle. And such delicious foods.

Arud’s stomach growled at the mention of sustenance. I will be fast as a hummingbird. Alone, he laid back on the soft down pillow.

Many thoughts plagued him. The ferine shifting without a full moon. His father’s disappearance. A new life with an uncle he knew not. He longed for more time to slumber and avoid having to face these truths.

But this was not a luxury afforded to him.

Long before the Wolf Moon battle between mankind, the hybrid Cur, and the pureblood ferine, his father Berg went away without a word, leaving Arud to wonder about their wolf-shifter bloodline. Those questions would stay locked away until Father, if Father, returned. And though on the surface the world seemed in place, Arud knew better.

A storm was coming.

Ψ TWO Ψ

Origins

Arud healed quickly, a welcomed side effect of his newfound powers. Still, he winced when sliding on his tunic, his intercostal muscles sore from battle. Cuts crisscrossed his arms. Remnants of raking claw marks blended like a mist into the new, pale skin on his torso. He could still hear the sickening snap of his breastbone cracking as he relived his transformation.

He hated being Cur. A monster. A mutant. For seventeen years he’d been taught to fear the ferine, to run and hide from the wolf-shifters, when all along his blood coursed with their magic. His brethren. A regal lineage descended from a great king and a powerful seer, the father and mother of the Cur breed. An abomination.

His origin story.

What other lies had Mother spoon-fed him and Lykke? What other secrets had Father kept in the shadows?

Arud’s bare feet crossed the cool marble floor of the Healer Wing. The quiet atrium smelled of lavender, lemon, and eucalyptus. Behind closed doors, Arud imagined bedridden soldiers in far worse condition, producing a wave of gratitude coupled with a pang of guilt.

Along the narrow hallway, a tall, slender woman escorted a man with a bandage wrapped around his head. He stared at Arud through his one good eye in passing. The Healer spoke in soft tones distracting the man from his grimacing pain.

A young servant carrying a water bucket stopped, surprised. My lord, you find your feet too soon. Please, go back to bed and heal.

Even in the sheath, a sword must be sharp, he answered with an infectious smile she returned.

May I fetch you anything at all, my lord?

I am well, thank you. Please, carry on with your work.

She bowed. At once, my lord. Jarl Bodolf has prepared a room in his upper chambers.

I am grateful for your stewardship.

She bowed again. It is my duty, lord. You are the jarl’s kin and that brings honor to all of us.

It would take time for Arud to adjust to such proper salutations. Suddenly, he carried the title of the nephew of Bodolf the Jarl, leader of Vithalia and ruler of the Viking people across the sea.

Do you know where I may find my sister, Lykke?

She is on the lower-level courtyard.

Forgive me, but the palace layout is unfamiliar still.

Please, take the stairwell down the hall to the third level and you will find her.

With his palms pressed together, he said, Many thanks.

The servant bowed then continued her rounds bringing water to the wounded.

Arud rambled to the spiral stairwell. His fingers traced the smooth opalescent walls, a stark contrast to the hewn rock and splintered wood of his home in the Outlands. Cold, textured coquina brushed the soles of his feet as he descended the mural stairs. An arched aperture opened to a breathtaking view of the sea. Waves crested from the castle walls to the white-sand shores spreading as far as the eye could see. Arud breathed in the brine-laced air and absorbed the sun’s warmth.

This was his home now.

His sister’s faint laughter danced on the breeze, reminding him of his dream, which he now regarded as a fearful premonition. He followed the spiraling stairs to the third level platform and entered a large saloon with fur lined walls and pillars etched with detailed reliefs. Oil burned in lined pitch from the corded driftwood hanging from the vaulted ceiling.

Lykke and Scalvia played with wooden dolls beside a burning rock-lined firepit. An intense narrative played out, which Arud enjoyed with a smile before interrupting. Well, if is not the loveliest maidens in all Vithalia.

Lykke and Scalvia faced him at the sound of his voice. You are too kind, Scalvia said, her eyes caressing him.

Yes, Lykke added. And very smart. She and Lykke giggled.

I spake of the dolls, not the toy handlers.

Lykke and Scalvia drew in quick breaths of offense.

You speak against the wood itself, Lykke spat in jest.

And the Huldras living within it, Scalvia added.

Arud’s splayed fingers covered his chest. Forgive me. It is you and Lykke of whom I spoke. Not lifeless dolls or nymphs within their wood.

Lykke made him suffer for only a moment. Then you may sit and join us.

Arud took a seat by the fire and relaxed against a pillow. Do not let me interrupt. Please, tell your tales.

You are lucky, Arud. We are at the most exciting part! Astrid is about to lead into battle.

Astrid?

Scalvia held up her doll, lips in a tight line. Arud nodded and motioned they continue.

Come, Scalvia said in the higher pitched voice allotted to Astrid. Let us cross the fjord to the falls. There we can find shelter for the night.

The two dolls hopped along the rocky perimeter of the firepit and Arud laughed, enjoying the performance. His vision lingered on Scalvia, remembering their moments alone and the touch of her lips.

Oh, no! Lykke said, in a