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NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE
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6M P12 |
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The Obsidian Key By Eleanor Cramphorn |
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Synopsis: When war destroys fifteen-year-old, expert swordsman Takeshi’s tranquil life, he sets out on a perilous journey across his world in search of the distant city of Lune, and finds himself caught up in the quest of malevolent and cruel Sigvard, Prince Regent of Wintermark. Sigvard holds the Obsidian Key, imbued with a dark and ancient power; the necromantic power to control the Army of Souls. The only thing standing between Sigvard and mastery of this power is the mysterious Lock of Animus – the vessel through which the Key must be channelled to work. But what is the Lock? And why does Sigvard want Takeshi dead? Only Takeshi and his friends – Emperor Wong Tao An, Vincent Di Luna, the gentleman thief, and the strong-willed Princess Andretta – can find out, and the extraordinary answer will lead them to the perilous realisation that the only option is to fight back against the incredible strength of the Wintermark…
Populated with colourful characters and fantastic environments, from the ever-snowing frozen vistas of Wintermark to the lush, dragon-inhabited Heavenly Kingdom of Tienguo, The Obsidian Key is the first in a series of two manga-style, swords and sorcery novels that will leave you desperate for more.
The Obsidian Key (Extract from Chapter 16 – The Tournament):
Around the amphitheatre, Lux Quartz lamps had been placed to give illumination for the final battle. Takeshi stood on the grass. He was facing Prince Sigvard Of Wintermark, the man who had killed his family. He saw his mother, sisters and father reflected in every frost-laden blade of grass. He could hear their voices in the wind. Sigvard smiled cruelly at him. King Edwy was reading a proclamation about the virtues of the great and noble art of sword-fighting, but neither combatant was listening. ‘Where are you from, boy?’ Sigvard asked him. Takeshi stared into the cold blue eyes, anger coursing through him. ‘Okoku,’ he answered, as evenly as he was able. ‘You killed my whole family.’ Sigvard nodded, the cruel smile still playing on his crimson lips. His white hair blew in the breeze like pale feathers, and his indigo cloak billowed out behind him. ‘I know you,’ he said quietly.
Sigvard knows this boy. He has never met him, but he knows him. The boy says he is from Okoku, and Sigvard knows. ‘You are…Ludovika’s son,’ the Prince Regent murmurs. He enjoys the boy’s startled reaction. ‘How-how do you…?’ he asks, stunned. Sigvard’s cold smile widens. His fair, porcelain face betrays nothing. His winter-blue eyes stare into Takeshi’s keyhole-shaped pupils. ‘I know everything,’ he says. He lifts his sword slightly. ‘Do you see this sword?’ he asks. The boy does not answer. Sigvard continues, ‘Its name is Snecca. It will bite you, and it will kill you. You will join your family.’
Takeshi looked at the sword. He was bewildered. How did Sigvard know his mother’s name? What did Sigvard know about her? Sigvard was speaking, ‘…It will bite you, and it will kill you.’ The sword, Snecca, had a very long, silver blade. On the blade were runes, spelling, Takeshi supposed, the sword’s name. At the end of the long blade, sticking off one side, were two spikes, like the serrated teeth on a saw, but much longer, and slightly curved, like snake fangs. On the hand guard of the hilt, one at each side, were two dragon’s heads. A black gemstone glittered like death atop the hilt. ‘Are you ready, little boy?’ Sigvard murmured. The trumpet sounded. Takeshi drew his own sword. Compared to Snecca, it seemed small, glinting silver in the moonlight. The whistle blew. It was now. Sigvard rushed at him, Snecca raised over his head. Takeshi barely had time to dodge out of the way as Snecca’s twin fangs grazed his cheek, drawing blood. He whirled around, his sword striking at thin air. Sigvard was behind him. He had no idea how his adversary had moved that fast. Takeshi swerved out of the way. Sigvard turned on him, his eyes wide and more evil than anything Takeshi had ever seen, or could possibly have imagined. It was like looking into an abyss from which nothing good could escape. Takeshi’s mind was no longer taken up with killing Sigvard; his only concern was finishing the match alive. He leapt out of the way as Snecca, almost with a life of its own, tried to cleave his head from his shoulders. Some of his hair was cut as he stumbled back. It floated past his face, and into his eyes, like thistledown drifting in the breeze. Takeshi sidestepped with more confidence. He could almost see a pattern emerging in Sigvard’s murderous movements. He swung his sword, the moonlit blade coming very close to Snecca. Sigvard retreated slightly.
The boy is agile. He is nimble, lithe and very well trained. Sigvard wishes to kill him quickly, but this is becoming difficult. The boy is regaining composure, and his skill is incredible. The boy lunges at him again. Snecca leaps and curves in Sigvard’s hands, parrying the thrust. The swords connect. Sigvard knows this battle will soon turn from his advantage. He cannot allow that. He concentrates his mind…
Polly cried out in fear. Takeshi’s face was bleeding, and he looked like he was in trouble. Thom had shouted himself hoarse. Will, Bert and Tabbie had almost done the same. Vincent skidded to a halt beside them. He stared at the battle taking place on the grass. Then, he slowly looked up at the Royal box, at where Edwy was on his feet, where Tao and his young sister were screaming warnings and encouragement, and where Princess Andretta sat, pale as the grave, shaking. Vincent looked back at the competitors. ‘Oh my god…’
Sigvard’s cloak billows in the wind. His mind is centred. Snecca is acting almost alone, barely fending off the boy’s attacks. Sigvard feels a wave running through his head. Pure, raw energy coursing through his mind.
Takeshi felt the tide of battle flowing the other way. He was doing all right! He gathered his strength, steadied his breathing. He might just win this. He looked up, ready to strike again, and felt a cold shiver sweep through him. Sigvard was…different. Something else, some unknown consciousness, was looking out from behind his eyes. Takeshi cried out in fear and anguish, just as a burst of energy, like a ripple in the air sent him flying backwards, as though he had been hit by an explosion. his sword spiralled out of his grasp, whirling away across the other side of the amphitheatre. He flew straight into the barrier separating the competitors from the spectators. People screamed in fear. The whistle blew. Takeshi had lost. He was barely conscious. The pain in his back was incredible. He tried to stand, and retched. He shook his head, and his eyes focused. Sigvard was still running at him, Snecca held high above his head, ready to strike. The Prince Regent brought the sword down hard. Takeshi somehow managed to roll out of the way. Snecca cut through the grass, becoming imbedded in the soft earth. Takeshi, bewildered and hurting, stumbled to his feet. Sigvard tugged the snake-fanged sword free of the turf. He slashed at Takeshi again and again; each time the desperate boy was just able to stay out of reach. Then Takeshi tripped over an unseen stone beneath his foot, and he fell, painfully to the ground. Sigvard raised Snecca, a cold, cruel smile on his perfect, porcelain face. It was surely the end. Then Takeshi saw, in the distance, a tall, slim, elegant, dark-haired figure vault over the stands and charge towards them.
Vincent Di Luna ran. He had never run so fast. Sigvard was going to kill Takeshi, if he, Vincent, didn’t stop him. Sigvard’s mighty sword was raised high, ready to strike. Vincent pulled from within his velvet jacket his twin flintlock pistols. Royal assassination was a new one to him, but the choice was Sigvard or Takeshi, and Vincent didn’t even need to think. Still running as fast as he could, he took careful aim, and squeezed the triggers. The bullets sped forwards…
Sigvard senses the bullets behind him. With an instinct born of the Other presence in his head, he swiftly moves his sword blade... |