Nightlord: Shadows by Garon Whited

Author:Garon Whited [Whited, Garon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Parody
Published: 2015-08-30T04:00:00+00:00

The sun was well on the way to the horizon, a fact which gave me some small concern, when we skidded and slid down a slope toward Baret. It was a very nice view, I must admit. There’s something about a harbor with a few tall ships at anchor that just appeals to me. I don’t want to be on one, but I can appreciate their beauty from a safe distance—say, anywhere on dry land. They lose a lot of appeal when they’re underfoot. They’re kind of like cats, but with more sinking.

We emerged from the rocky, steep sections at the foot of the range and into the farmland around Baret. Behind us, I left a trail of magical markers; anyone with a decent sense for things magical would be able to simply see them with their second sight. I felt confident the mountain would be able to sense my magical imprint, which was the whole point of the exercise.

I rode up to the harbor district on the eastern side of Baret and hailed the gate. I needn’t have bothered; they saw me coming and had someone in nice armor already waiting. Probably the knight serving as officer of the day.

“Who are you that comes to Baret?” he demanded, through a metal cone. Having shouted at me, he held it to his ear to catch my reply.

Oh, for the love of…, I thought. I’m in no mood to shout a conversation.

Bronze and I continued to walk forward. I gestured, reaching out with a line of magic to establish a connection with his megaphone. Then I took off my helm, attached the line to it, and spoke into it, using it like a kid’s play-phone—two tin cans and a string.

“I’m Halar,” I said. “I’m the King of Karvalen, come to visit the Prince of Baret. I’ve just finished mapping out the road between our realms, and I would like to impose on his hospitality to the extent of a hot meal and a hot bath, if that’s not too much trouble.”

Judging by the sputtered expletives, I had surprised him with my voice-conduction spell. He also seemed doubtful as to my credentials.

I wasn’t in the best of moods. I was hot, dusty, and a little tired. Bronze wasn’t in all that great a mood, either; slipping and sliding on gravel and scree was trying on her nerves and mine. On the other hand, I did show up unannounced. If he didn’t know I was coming, whose fault was that? When some dusty vagabond comes out of the mountains and claims to be King of Oz, I’m going to be skeptical, too, if he hasn’t phoned ahead.

Grumbling, I pulled out a small mirror of polished steel, did the necessary work, and got the Wizard of Baret on the line. She looked startled—I don’t know why; maybe it’s just the idea of a king doing his own magic—and hurried to convey messages.

It wasn’t too much longer before they let me in. And, yes, the

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