A Child of Two Worlds by Mark Cole

Author:Mark Cole [Cole, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Alex Zane and Terra Duval fight Azreal to save the Nine Realms
ISBN: 9780615861548
Publisher: Mark Cole
Published: 2013-08-18T06:00:00+00:00

“You’re dead, Boy,” Father said. Twelve-year-old Alex wiped the blood from his mouth. His father’s reed sword had hit him in the face again. “Get up. Do it again.”

Alex shouted as he rushed at his father, swinging the bundled lathe of reeds at his father’s knees. The middle-aged man nimbly hopped over the swing, and Alex had to roll to the side to keep from getting rapped on the top of the head. His father gave chase through the dried fallen leaves. Reds and browns flew by as they ran through the cool, autumnal forest. The boy made it to a small rise that was clear of trees and spun to face his father.

The boy didn’t see or hear anything around him. Not one to be caught off guard, he spun in a small circle and made sure the man wasn’t trying to sneak up on him from behind. Alex waited for a few minutes, not willing to give up the high ground, but grew concerned that the man was setting a trap. “He won’t catch me,” young Alex muttered, jogging back into the trees.

He prowled through the dried leaves, taking care not to step on any he thought would crackle. A snapping tree limb brought his head whipping around. The boy rushed toward the sound, heedless of how loud his footsteps were.

A tree branch under tension whipped around, and hit Alex hard in the chest. He collapsed to the ground, the breath knocked out of him. The man walked from around the tree and laid the sword of bundled reeds against the boy’s throat.

“You are dead for a fourth time today, Boy,” his father, Daniel Thomas Zane, said. The man shook his head, shoulder length gray hair swinging. Alex rolled onto his stomach and lifted himself to hands and knees. “Why did you leave the high ground?” his father asked as he stood.

“What was I supposed to do?” Alex asked, his tone bordering on impertinence. “For all I knew, you went back to the truck and got food and decided to wait me out. I got no food, and it’s getting cold.”

“I have no food,” his father corrected. “Good assessment of the situation, but what did you do wrong?” he asked as they walked back to the truck.

“Other than letting you hit me with a tree?” the boy asked sarcastically.

His father frowned at him and hit him on top of the head with the bundled lathe.

“I thought you were trying to trap me on that little hill and decided to run. I ran into the real trap because of that,” Alex said, rubbing the top of his head.

“Good job, dead boy,” his father chided as they climbed into the old beat-up truck. It rumbled to life when his father turned the key, and they began the half-hour drive down the mountain. “We need to pick up some groceries. What have you been studying?” his father asked.

Alex was sure his father knew exactly what he had been studying in the library of text books they had at home.

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