War of Kings and Monsters

by Christopher Keene

Genres: YA Historical Fiction

Synopsis

"War of Kings and Monsters is a fast and compelling read with lovable characters and a well-drawn premise." —M. L. Spencer, author of The Rhenwars Saga

In a world beyond the reach of humans live the monstrous Melkai. Five hundred years ago, these powerful beings were banished from the human world, only welcome back when called and controlled by a human. But the spell that holds them back is weakening. Melkai are slipping through the barrier uncalled.

In order to restore the barrier, Nathan embarks on a quest to find the missing piece of an ancient and powerful artifact. Nathan’s own Melkai protects him as he travels the land filled with roaming monsters, but escaped Melkai are not the only threat he faces. An enemy kingdom is in possession of the missing piece of the artifact and they are more than willing to let Nathan’s people be overrun by Melkai rather than give up their power.

Release date: May 19, 2020

Publisher: Future House Publishing

Print pages: 296

Sample

Nathan sat at his bedroom desk, nosing through a heavy tome. At this stage of his studies, he knew most of what there was to know about first-circle Melkai, but given the wide variety of second-circle Melkai, he had to constantly brush up on them. The bloated tome depicted the stupidly large second-circle Melkai, matching the monsters from the other world with animals that inhabited his own.

Although supposedly above his reading level, at fifteen, Nathan found the book only mildly challenging, mostly because he took the wisdom it contained with a grain of salt. From his experience, men who wrote such large books got out from behind their walls as rarely as he did. The author seemed to be pulling descriptions out of his rear end. Even so, drawn in by the detailed pictures and colorful descriptions, Nathan took pleasure in being a voyeur into the dangers of the world outside the castle walls while still being safe and sound behind them.

Flipping back through the section showing the smaller and weaker first-circle Melkai, he saw that many of them were still much larger than his own, though he doubted any of them would be as loyal as Taiba, his little friend from that other world.

He stretched a hand out toward his bed. “Hey, come out here.”

A small blue reptile, no larger than a gecko, rushed out from his sheets, jumped onto his hand, then climbed into the folds of his hood. The Melkai deemed that part of him not only the best vantage point to observe their surroundings, but also the best place to nestle down in if he became too cold. After spending three years with the curious creature, Taiba had become his closest confidant, and he was fond of feeling his cool tail coil loosely around his neck above his chain necklace. He reached up absentmindedly to pat Taiba’s head in the place he knew his friend liked best.

There was a loud knock at the door, and they both jumped in surprise.

“Nathan, your presence is needed,” Master Morrow called from the other side.

“Don’t tell me another apprentice has tried to make a pact with a Melkai in his room again.”

“Worse. You have been summoned to the throne room. Best not keep the king waiting.”

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut and cursed under his breath. Although he often saw the king on his usual walks through the castle, Nathan had only been in the throne room a few times: once when he had first arrived and several times when he and the prince had gotten caught making trouble together as children, usually for exploring forbidden places in the castle.

His master continued with further knocking. “Nathan, hurry up now!”

“Okay, okay! I’m coming!”

He opened his door to find Morrow, the Master of Pacts, waiting for him in the sunlit hallway, a grave expression on his wizened, bearded face that belied his usual jovial nature.

“Come on.” Morrow strode down the hallway, his long robes billowing behind him.

Nathan hurried after him but glanced back at his bedroom door, yearning for his lost comfort. As had been his routine for the last four years, he’d stayed up late last night sitting through one of Morrow’s lectures and didn’t want to start yawning in front of the king.

“Being called on like this . . . it’s a bit unusual.” Nathan jogged to keep up with his teacher’s long gait. “Does this mean lectures are canceled for today?”

Morrow ignored his question. “Over the last several nights, our court astronomers have noticed a red hue on the moon’s horizon. Since then, that sliver of red has become a thin crescent. According to the Kairen texts, this is meant to signal a warning that one of the Kairen’s ancient spells is weakening. We have less than one month before it breaks entirely.”

I’ll take that as a no on today’s lectures.

“Which spell?”

Morrow didn’t answer him.

“Wait, you’re not talking about the barrier to the Melkairen, are you?”

The Melkairen was the world containing the Melkai. So long as they were trapped within that world, they were limited to their spirit forms until a caller bound them to a pact item. But if the barrier between the worlds were to go down, the Melkai would roam freely, endangering all they came across. If Morrow’s lessons were anything to go by, few if any were as friendly as Taiba.

Morrow gave an almost imperceptible nod but only said, “Best leave your questions for the king.”

They approached the throne room doors. Frazzled by the prospect, Nathan combed his sandy hair and attempted to remember the etiquette required for an appearance before the king. It had been so long since he’d needed to draw upon such knowledge.

The guards on either side of the entrance opened the doors, and Nathan followed his instructor into the large hall. The throne was on a high dais at the back of the room and faced not forward, but to the left. White ribbons hung in arcs above where the king sat with a thin-lipped expression.

When Morrow and Nathan reached the end of the long red carpet, Nathan shuffled nervously, shifting his weight from leg to leg as Taiba fidgeted in his hood.

Two people stood on either side of the old king. To his left was his Lord Chancellor, a long-faced man with graying hair. He had a strict, almost menacing focus in his cold eyes.

Prince Michael stood to the king’s right. Despite the tension in the room, Michael failed to hold down his smile. The smile didn’t suit his giant frame or stubbly face, for Michael appeared more intimidating than he actually was. Nathan’s first memory in the castle was of Michael, still a young boy himself, saving him from a squad of soldiers who believed him to be an urchin sneaking into the castle. They had been like brothers ever since. Now the prince was twenty and in command of those soldiers. He had the armor and broadsword to prove it.

“Come forth,” the king called.

Both he and Morrow moved closer. The large doors closed with a boom, and as the echo died, Nathan and Morrow knelt before the dais.

“I’m sure you’re a little confused right now,” the king intoned.

Nathan followed his master’s lead and rose to his feet. “I . . . Yes. What gives me the honor of being summoned like this, Your Majesty?”

“I have taken care of you in my kingdom for . . . what is it now, ten years?” he asked.

Nathan nodded. The reason for this had always eluded him. It wasn’t like he was anyone special.

“When you arrived from Avatasc, I took you in and protected you. Now, in our most desperate hour, I call you forth to ask you to help us in kind.”

Nathan drew in a breath. Me, help the kingdom?

“I entreat you to take a journey that may save us all. Do you understand, Nathan?”

Taiba must have sensed his rising fear as Nathan felt him shift within his hood.

He shook his head roughly, all etiquette fleeing his mind. “N-no, how could I? I’m just an apprentice caller, Your Majesty.”

The king cleared his throat. “Do you still have the key you were given as a child?”

Nodding, Nathan took the golden chain out from his collar and showed the crystal key to the king. He had possessed it for as long as he could remember, but couldn’t recall who had given it to him. It was one of the few objects linked directly to his past, and he never took it off, hoping it might one day be recognized by some visiting diplomat or noble who could tell him what it was. Now, however, that was no longer necessary.

“What you hold in your hand is the Kairen Key, quite literally the key to our survival, young man. However, it is not complete. It’s only one half of what is required to reseal the barrier locking away the monstrous Melkai.” The king’s tone became grave. “The other half is owned by someone of royal blood in the kingdom of . . . Avatasc.”

“Isn’t Avatasc our enemy? Your Majesty, even I know no one takes the peace treaty between the kingdoms seriously.”

The king nodded. “That is so.”

“This doesn’t make sense, Your Majesty. Why me?” Nathan shook his head. “I—I haven’t even called a second-circle Melkai yet. I’m not ready!”

“I agree, Father. He has no experience of the world outside the walls.” Michael raised a hand to his chest. “Surely, I—”

“Only a Kairen can use the Kairen Key!” the king shouted.

Michael went to protest stubbornly but stopped when he realized he didn’t know how to counter this point. He lowered his hand and stepped back.

“Kairen,” Nathan uttered, dumbfounded. “I’m a Kairen?”

He had read that the Kairens were the first race to call forth Melkai. Indeed, the kingdoms had been founded on their power. Yet no one had ever told him he was a descendant of those ancient summoners.

“That’s right, Nathan,” the king continued. “Long ago there was a lasting peace between our kingdoms. It was proven by dividing the ownership of the Kairen Key, a half of which you now hold.”

“That key is the only thing that can prevent the invasion of Melkai into our world,” Master Morrow cut in. “But both halves must be located to reseal the barrier to the Melkairen!”

Over the years, Morrow had given Nathan news of journeymen and adventuring callers who had come across and, on occasion, fought against unbonded Melkai who slipped through the barrier. At first, Morrow had spoken of it as though they were anomalies or tall tales men used to gain fame and notoriety, but such reports had become more frequent of late and more and more journeymen were going missing. Although only a handful of Melkai had escaped the barrier, those few that had were vicious and out for blood.

If I really want to become an Advanced Summoner then it’s now or never that I prove it.

He looked down at the key-half.

But even if I find the other half of the Kairen Key, do they think my Kairen blood will just kick in and I’ll know what to do with it?

“A-and I am to go alone?” Nathan asked.

“You’re joking, right?” Prince Michael called. “I’m going with you. Father thinks it necessary that I prove myself on this journey. It’s you and me, big guy.”

Relief washed over him. Michael was the most skilled fighter in the kingdom, and his experience on the road would be invaluable. The idea of a prince guarding a novice caller was ridiculous, but then the idea of this whole quest was a little ridiculous.

Taiba’s head perked up and his tail began to wag. He liked Michael.

Despite the prince joining him, Nathan’s heart still raced. He knew better than anyone the dangers of the outside world, particularly now that the Melkai were escaping the Melkairen. Indeed, he had just been reading a book on the dangers of the Melkai. He longed to return to his room to continue reading or even see if he could bring it with him, but the tome was so large he doubted he could fit it in a rucksack. He sighed and shook his head, regretting not taking notes when he had the chance.

Nevertheless, he would go. He was indebted to the king for allowing him to live in the castle and take lessons under Master Morrow, the greatest Advanced Summoner in the land.

He looked up at Morrow. “Will you be coming with us, Master?”

Morrow shook his head, eyes red with weariness. “I must remain here to prepare the junior callers in case you fail. It’s possible, and as you well know, Melkai are attracted to large groups of people, so, to lower the risk of enticing them, you two will be on your own.”

Nathan nodded, jaw clenched in both fear and determination. I’m a Kairen. This is my fate.

He looked up at the king. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“Everything for your journey will be provided for you in packs at the main door. You must collect them and leave immediately,” the king said, and the doors creaked open behind them.

Dragon’s breath! They sure are eager to send us on our way.

“C-can’t I at least take some books with me?” Nathan babbled. “Surely, I—”

“The weakening of the barrier will occur when the moon has turned completely red. Second-circle Melkai will be roaming the land, so you must be careful. You must travel light so you can go quickly. The packs provided are intended for that purpose.”

Michael jumped down from the dais and grinned up at the king. “Don’t worry, Father. With me accompanying him, he’ll have nothing to fear.”

The king scoffed. “Your foolhardy words cause me more worry than any Melkai.”

Michael waved this off. “Don’t lose sleep on my account. I’ll be sure not to run into a fight blindly. Besides . . .” He patted Nathan on the shoulder. “I’ll have him to watch my back.”

The king nodded, a proud gleam in his eyes. “Just be careful, my son.”

“You too, old man.”

With a wave, Michael strode past Nathan and exited the throne room. Looking back nervously and receiving a curt nod from Master Morrow, Nathan followed.

Nathan winced as the castle doors boomed shut behind him. The majority of Nathan’s studies had been focused on a time when Melkai were either free to roam the lands or when people could simply summon them to kill each other. The castle walls had felt like the only thing protecting him from those potential threats.

As he opened his eyes and saw only a flock of birds flying over the empty green fields, his rigid body relaxed.

At his reaction, an amused smile spread over Michael’s face. Unlike him, the prince had been out on expeditions into the world before and was far more knowledgeable about how to deal with its trials.

Nathan returned the grin but still looked back at the gates of the Terratheist city, walling them off from all that was familiar.

Michael led them down the hill. Seeing the outside world from the ground was different from seeing it from his window, and the further they walked from the castle, the more overwhelming the vastness of the surrounding grasslands and valleys became. Now, they were trekking down the Menophilly Hills. Once at their base, their next destination on the way to Avatasc would be Terratheist city’s water source: the Talis Lake.

“So, why did you really decide to come with me?” Nathan asked.

Michael laughed. “Why do you think? Someone had to watch your back on this journey.”

Nathan gave him a pointed look.

The prince rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, you got me. Father wanted me to come to demonstrate my worth. He thinks this journey will prove me to be enough of a man to succeed him someday. But even if that wasn’t true, I still would have asked to come to help my little buddy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nathan replied playfully. “Just try not to hit your head on the top of any doorframes when we get to Avatasc. They still have to repair the dent you made in the Summoners’ Spire.”

“It’s not my fault you callers are all so puny,” he retorted, “but I promise not to step on you once I’ve reached my full height.”

Nathan grinned. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Although Michael was protective of him, Nathan suspected his friend had other motives for joining his quest. In his youth, Michael’s father had been known to travel far and wide, and for all Nathan knew, Michael wanted to surpass his father’s epic tales with an adventure of his own. There was no one Nathan thought more likely to achieve such a feat.

They made their way steadily down the hill toward the rise down which Talis Lake ran. Left of the lake were the hills covered by the Kydian Wood, and for some reason unknown to Nathan, Michael was leading them toward it.

“We’re after some royal from Avatasc, right? With most royals living in the Avatasc Castle, heading there is naturally our best shot at finding them—though, how we plan on sneaking in seems to be a ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it’ sort of thing. Even so, wouldn’t the quickest direction to Avatasc be straight ahead? It’s just across the Solvena Plains, after all.”

“That’s true, little buddy. But you’re the clever one here. Would it really be smart to cross the border of two previously warring countries out in the open? Countries that have barely been able to create a peace treaty as it is?” Michael raised a finger toward the thick forest. “Our best bet is to find this royal with the other key-half either by consorting, or more likely, threatening Avatasc nobles. Then we can combine the two halves to stop the Melkai from escaping and return home without starting a war, right?”

“I never pegged you for a naive optimist.”

“Well, if we do it my way, we should accomplish all this before the month is up and without being found out. Therefore, our path is not through the war zone but around it, through the Kydian Wood.”

Nathan shivered: a vanguard of soldiers had gone missing in the forest only a week back.

“What about the Melkai?” he asked. “Being clever won’t help us hide from monsters that can follow our scent . . .” He sniffed Michael and screwed up his face. “Particularly yours.”

“I’ve faced Melkai before,” Michael said, raising his palms. “It shouldn’t be any problem. Besides, my manly musk will more likely frighten them off.”

“Is that what you call it?” Nathan shook his head in amusement. “Those were first-circle, Michael. Most of them would have known from your size alone that they couldn’t have beaten you, and the king told us that Melkai of the second circle would slip through the barrier first. Second-circle Melkai vary in size a lot more than first-circle ones. Some of them would tower over you!”

Michael frowned down at him. “You should know by now that size isn’t everything.”

Nathan crossed his arms, still unconvinced.

“Trust me, we’d much rather take a chance with the Melkai than fight with other soldiers. And if it’s true what Morrow and Father said about them not getting here until the moon turns fully red, I think that if we get through fast enough, we won’t even have to worry about them.”

Although Nathan was still hesitant, Michael had managed to convince him. It would be better to go through the forest than to reheat the flame on the border. Besides, if they journeyed straight ahead, a confrontation was a certainty. By cutting through the forest, they had a chance to go around it uninterrupted.

Nathan looked down and confessed, “I—I can’t move as fast as you.”

Michael smiled and ruffled his hair. “Would you like me to piggyback you like I used to?”

Nathan shoved his hand away. “I’m quite alright, thank you. Fine, I see your point,” he grudgingly admitted. “But take a bath in the lake before we enter the forest. If not for my sake, at least so the Melkai won’t smell you as easily.”

“Out here, the smell of soap stands out more to monsters than body odor.” Michael tapped his temple. “I’ve learned from experience, little buddy. There’s a method to my madness.”

Nathan winced. “And a stench to it too.”

Nathan surveyed the fields as Taiba did likewise from his perch atop Nathan’s shoulder. Feeling a little nervous about being out in the open, Nathan found another reason why traversing the forest was the smarter option. It would at least stop them from being spotted by any flying Melkai.

Sensing there was no immediate danger, Taiba basked in the sun’s rays on Nathan’s shoulder. If Nathan wasn’t a caller they could have traveled on horseback, but it was a well-known fact that Melkai of any kind frightened horses. It was for this reason that many callers used Melkai for mounts. Nathan figured Michael expected him to summon something stronger than Taiba on their journey, and that’s why they hadn’t just left his little friend behind. However, after nearly being killed the last time he had tried, the prospect terrified him.

Instead of entering the Valley of the Two Kings, Michael veered left, leading them uphill toward the tree-covered horizon. Nathan scrambled to keep up with Michael’s brisk strides. Each hill they climbed rose higher than the last, leaving Nathan out of breath, but also increasing his view of the forest border in the distance. He kept his eyes glued to the trees as though he could summon them to himself and save them the time walking. It didn’t work.

While watching the ever-distant trees, Nathan started measuring distances in his head. If they sighted the Talis Lake before noon, they would be able to get there by nightfall at this pace. Nathan resisted the urge to watch the sun’s progress across the sky. He didn’t want Michael to offer him a piggyback ride again.

Less than an hour later, they were stopped b. . .