A Kingdom of Shadow Read online

  A KINGDOM OF SHADOW

  CLARA C. JOHNSON

  © 2017 Clara C. Johnson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Formatted by Jen Henderson

  www.wildwordsformatting.com

  For Jackson, you are my meaning

  ~

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PROLOGUE

  ~Jared~

  The palace was quiet at this hour. I glanced at the clock in my study—it was almost two in the morning. The pile of paperwork had barely developed a dent in it. There were too many requests of approval for the rebuilding of Mightrun and had taken most of my time with all the necessary acquisitions. Our recent war had demolished a large chunk of the city and its inhabitants.

  I was young when my father sent out to that final battle to end King Merek by stabbing his blade into his heart. But my father was injured and didn’t make it even a few months before he succumbed to his injuries and was sent to the Goddess.

  My mother died when she gave birth to me. My father was all I had growing up. When he was lost to me, I was next in line for the throne. I took it at the age of fifteen, one of the youngest kings in our history. Nothing could have prepared me for the responsibility of my kingdom—much less the responsibility of keeping the remnants of the Darkness at bay.

  The Goddess blessed the line of the royals with longevity with the promise that we would ensure that the evil that haunted our lands would never cross over to the mortal realm. It was the price that every king in my family paid when the crown was placed on their head. It was also what ended up causing the war. My family had the control Merek wanted.

  With the death of my father and Merek, King Fendrel—the heir to Isilda’s throne—and I took over the lands of our kingdoms and tried to rebuild them. Merek’s madness had ended and we decided to enact a peace treaty to ensure the survival of our people and that the war was placed due to the madness of King Merek. Our peace was as symbolic as it was necessary. King Fendrel told me he never wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. I suppose he was more like his mother in that regard.

  His bloodline was blessed like my own, but they no longer possessed control over the barrier shortly after Merek became king. It was clear that the Goddess no longer trusted them to contain the evil. So, the power remained my own.

  Over the past several years, I have sent scouts to monitor the edge of the barrier all over Armea. The barrier separated us from the mortals and kept our land hidden. It was something I was told my father did all through his rule and his father before him. We had to be sure that there was no sign of deterioration of the barriers.

  The reports were all were uneventful . . . until that day.

  It seemed there was movement—something that hadn’t happened since the Darkness was pushed back from the hell whence it came many millennia ago. Was that an early sign that the Darkness has returned or was it an early sign that something was happening to the barrier?

  My adviser explained to me that the potential of deterioration was possible and that there was no clear sign as to how or why. Our priests prayed to the Goddess so that she may tell us what we must do to strengthen them, but they deemed our prayers unheard of.

  Had the Goddess left us? Had she lost faith in our land?

  Our only hope was to find the cause of her displeasure and make sure the barriers remain upheld. There was no telling what may become of our lands if the Darkness should return.

  There was a soft knock at my door. I opened it to find one of my scouts ready to provide me his newest report.

  “Your Majesty,” he began, “I believe we may have a problem.” I took the paper from his hand and read the report. The movement on the barrier was confirmed: a small pack of wolves were found lying beside the barrier and may have had found a way through it. It was as I feared: inferniwulves.

  CHAPTER 1

  ~Ellyn~

  The remnants of snow crunched under my boots as I carried my freshly cut firewood to the stack behind a wall on our back porch. It was one of my many chores I had to complete today in this bitter cold. My hands burned with blisters by my ax, along with my face beat red, and my nose running. I tried to keep moving to stay warm, but the evening had almost arrived, the sunset would pass in mere minutes. I had to finish stacking before I could go inside.

  I spent most of my day gathering all the firewood I could find. Due to the cold, most of it was frozen to the ground. It would make it harder to burn later. It was getting to that time of year where I would need to scrounge for fallen trees to cut up and burn. I had used all of the firewood I gathered back in the late summer already.

  I prayed that we would be able to stretch it longer, but the temperatures dropped so rapidly, I had little choice in the matter. I had to keep some heat in our cottage during these nights. Some nights, I had to break down some of our old furniture to burn, but it was better than freezing. I was running out of options because the frozen firewood would need time to melt the snow and ice off. There was not much else I could do.

  I blew my hot breath into my hands to warm them. Any touch of warmth was a blessing against this icy weather. My gloves ripped a month ago so I had no protection for my hands—making them exposed to splinters and sores. I wrapped my hands around myself to contain some heat.

  It must be closer to spring. The snow had not accumulated for the past two weeks, but it was not warm enough to melt it completely away. I cursed under my breath as I made a few more trips to finish stacking the firewood. Once that was done, I carried a handful inside near the fireplace to burn later tonight.

  I sat down to take off my filthy clothes, brushing off the wood chips on my coat. Taking off my boots, I noticed the wear. The bottom soles were splitting on the back of the heels. I would need to replace them or try and fix them with some glue. With how little money we had, the latter would come first.

  “Ellyn, dinner is ready,” my mother called to me. I sighed.

  I had to hunt for most of our food. My most recent kills were two small, dainty rabbits—not enough to feed a family of three, but Mother tried to make the most of the meat. Nothing was wasted.

  “Coming,” I called back to her. I put my boots on a nearby table. I grabbed a small nail and hammered it into my shoe from the inside. It wasn’t, by any means, a great fix, but it would last until I got something to stick the soles back on. I lit a candle and went to the dining room. Mother was fixing our plates. I added
the flame of my candle to the wicks of the others on the table to provide us some light.

  My stomach growled when I saw the small plate of meat and beans that sat before me, complete with a slice of bread. I forgot that I hadn’t eaten all day. I was famished—I dug into the rabbit meat first. With my mother’s talent for spices, it managed to add more flavor to the meat despite its normal flavorless taste. Mother was an excellent cook, but not even the best chef in the world could make a proper meal out of rabbit meat, bread, and beans but I did not complain—she always tried her best.

  “Albert, dinner is ready,” She called out, annoyed. It was then when I realized Albert wasn’t at the table. He must still not be feeling well. He had stayed in bed all day. Mother glared towards the direction of his room.

  I put down my fork, wiping my mouth with the napkin. “I’ll get him.” I grabbed a candle and headed to his room annoyed with the face that my food would be cold by the time I returned.

  The floorboards made loud creaks under my bare feet. Our cottage was well past its prime and was showing its age. The paint was fading on the walls. I would have to repaint it once the weather cleared.

  Albert’s bedroom door was cracked open. He either was asleep and didn’t hear Mother or he simply ignored her. “Albert, did you hear Mother calling for you?” I asked walking into his room.

  There was a lump of blankets on his bed. No doubt he buried himself within them to stay warm. I sat the candle down and sat at the edge of his bed.

  “Albert, I know you’re under there,” I whispered to the blankets. There was movement underneath.

  “No, you don’t,” a voice muffled back. I pulled back the blankets to reveal his face. My brother was a handsome young boy with golden hair and blue eyes like me. Without stating the obvious, you could see our resemblance. We both took after our father. Our sister took after our mother with her brown hair but had father’s eyes.

  Albert’s face was red, but his skin looked pale. “What’s wrong?”

  He shivered under the blankets. “It’s so cold.”

  I touched his forehead; he was burning up. I wiped a smudge of dirt off of his face. “I know. That’s why I spent all day cutting the firewood. I cut down a fallen tree I found outside our cottage. I will be able to burn a little more more tonight.” I didn’t mention that it was a rather small tree that had fallen.

  “You said you could burn more last night,” he mumbled. He may only have been ten, but he had a sharp memory. He could see right through me. It was a blessing and a curse.

  “I’m sorry.” I hated lying to him, but he needed to focus on getting better. I didn’t want him to worry about things he couldn’t control. It was my responsibility, not his. Albert turned towards the window, his back to me.

  “I’m not hungry,” he grumbled.

  This had become somewhat of a habit of his. Normally, he would scrounge off any plate of food I would put in front of him, but lately, he refused to eat, claiming he simply wasn’t hungry.

  “In order for you to get better, you need to eat. It will help you grow big and strong,” I encouraged him and he turned to face me.

  “Big and strong like Father?” he asked. I nodded. “Do we have rabbit again?”

  “Yes, rabbit again,” I said.

  He groaned. “I’m so tired of rabbit.” I couldn’t blame him. Rabbits were one of the only things I had a surplus of hunting. Many of the other woodland creatures were asleep for the winter or found shelter from the cold. I was lucky if I found anything some days.

  “I’m tired of it too, but in a couple more weeks, I’ll be able to work again. Maybe I’ll find some work at the bakery. You loved that garlic bread I used to bring home.” Last year, I worked in the bakery with Mr. and Mrs. Wheatley. I would accidentally burn one or two pieces of bread, but only just enough where I was told to throw it away. I would end up bringing it home to us instead to go with dinner.

  “I wish you could get some more of that, even though it was burnt.” I wish we could too. The bread may have been burnt, making it taste rough on the edges, but it was pleasant on the inside. Albert shivered again in the blankets. He would have to sleep in my room tonight. His bedroom was the coldest in our cottage. On the colder nights, I would have him sleep in my room that was closer to the fireplace to stay warm.

  There were nights during the warmer months where he would want to sleep beside me—whether it was because he was lonely or simply wanted to spend time with me, I didn’t know. I would spend that time to read him a story or sing him a lullaby to ease his mind to rest.

  Albert sat up and leaned onto me. I wrapped my arms around him, holding his head on my shoulder. A cough escaped my mouth. I turned my head away from him.

  “Ellyn?” he asked worriedly. I cleared my throat, ignoring the pain in my chest. I smiled to reassure him.

  “I’m alright. I probably swallowed a splinter or two when I was cutting the wood.

  “Or maybe a bug!” he laughed. I laughed with him.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said. I sat there with him for several minutes. My little brother was the light of my world. My sister had left us when she married. She and I were close until Father passed, but not as close as Albert and I. Before he took ill, he and I did everything together. He would help me with chores during the day and I would help him read one of my books. He loved stories about young men going on great adventures. It was one of the few pleasures we were able to do, but now, he was too ill to focus on the words. We had to stop his lessons.

  Remembering that we had dinner, I told Albert we had to eat. He gave me a single nod and wrapped his arms around my neck. I pulled him out of the blankets. I saw his face had several smudges of dirt across his cheeks.

  “You will get a bath tonight as well,” I said.

  “I don’t feel good,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. It was just as I thought. I would need to get him more of his medicine tomorrow.

  “You need to eat. I will get the rest of your medicine after dinner.” I tightened my hold on him and picked him up, carrying him out of the bedroom.

  “Will things get better, sis’?” he asked. I often asked myself the same question. I always came to the same conclusion: I don’t know. Hope was all we had to keep us moving through the bad days. I was sure the weather would clear up soon. We would be out of the cold at least.

  “I know it will. We just need to give it some time.” Another attempt to lie. I wasn’t sure if he would believe me this time. I could only tell him what he needed to hear.

  “Promise?” he whispered.

  “I promise.”

  He pulled me closer. Whether to comfort me or tell me he knew the truth, he didn’t say. All I could do was focus on the task at hand which was taking care of my family. I tried to take everything one day at a time—even if it took many days for things to get better, I had to believe things would improve. It was more for my family’s sake than my own.

  I was all my family had to put food in our bellies. Mother didn’t work and Albert was too sick. Mother lost a part of herself when father passed away. She spent months in mourning and I believed she still mourned to this day. We barely spoke of Father in fear it would make mother lose herself again in her own mind. On her better days, she acted as though he never left.

  She had spent days at a time just sitting in her chair, working on her sewing or baked bread as if she was in a trance, often ignoring Albert’s pleas for food or drink causing me to be his primary caregiver.

  There was a time I felt nothing but hatred for her, however, over the past few years, I learned to understand her pain. She’d lost the man she loved. A man who was the greatest father anyone could’ve asked for. He was a kind man at heart who put his family before his own. He loved her as much as he loved his children. Then he was lost to us forever.

  That day broke my family. My sister became distant. She’d found herself a man we only met once before. He’d seemed kind and gentle
to her. I understood why she wanted to leave this cold heap. She handled father’s death in her own way. She married a good man with money who could take proper care of her, but her marriage made her stop contacting us altogether.

  We weren’t invited to the wedding. Mother had sent several letters only to receive one from her. She told us that she was happy and didn’t want to be reminded of us or father again. Her husband and her future with him were all she wanted. It put mother deeper in her mourning. Now she had lost a daughter too.

  After dinner and a bath for Albert, I laid in my bed with him beside me fast asleep. I planned out my day for tomorrow. I would need to take some of Mother’s things into town to sell for some coin and need to see if I can use that money to buy Albert some medicine. That would mean I would need to make a bargain with Marion again.

  She was a good woman, if a bit into her own interests, but she had her uses. She was the only one who gave me hope that Albert would recover. I would bargain with her, no matter what it is she wants this time.

  CHAPTER 2

  I swore that today was colder than yesterday. I cursed under my breath, shivering from the cold. Despite my extra layer from a shirt my mother mended for me, it was not enough to drown out the cold. I pulled on my scarf to tighten it around my neck.

  I reminded myself of why I came here: to get Albert more medicine and to sell Mother’s quilt she has no use for because she already had five at home with two more on the way. It was small—more for a child than an adult. It was a lovely shade of violet and embroidered with a white border. I admired my mother’s talent with a needle. She always made the most beautiful quilts. I hoped someone would value it as much as I did.

  When I approached the village, I saw one of the local women whom I would sell some of my mother’s crafts. She had small children at home who loved her quilts and was always eager to buy any new crafts my mother made. Sometimes it worked in my favor and other times against me.