The Amulet Of Nicmir (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 1)

Chapter 20

"How long is it going to take you to accept the fact that I won't listen to you?" Chad inquired through gritted teeth, turning to face Craventi. The old man was leaning on his silver staff, dressed in his indigo robes per usual, his eyes lit with subtle mirth as he stared at his abductee.

"As long as it takes you to realize that I'll keep bringing you here until you do," he said simply. Puckering his mouth thoughtfully, he twisted his staff and looked at the ground. "Chad, I'd like to show you something, if you'll let me. It won't take long."

Chad glared at him in silence for a moment, his fingernails digging into his palms. Finally, he gave in. "Fine," he growled. "What is it?"

Craventi held out a worn hand. Reluctantly, Chad took it. And the moment he did so, the cell around him disappeared.

He couldn't catch a scent, couldn't move. So he looked around, ignoring the icy chill that rolled over his skin.

The sky was overcast. A field stretched before him, the long grass swaying in the wind. Underbrush bordered the field, and beyond it lay trees, buds on their slender branches. Snowcapped mountains loomed beyond the woods, stony giants, ancient guardians of the earth.

Two boys fought in the field, swords in their hands. One looked to be sixteen or so, while the other was clearly several years younger, perhaps twelve. Their hair, white-blond, pegged them as brothers.

"Watch your side, Ely," the elder of the two said, backing away in what Chad recognized as a defensive posture.

Ely scowled at him reproachfully and shifted his feet a little, angling his small, squirrelly frame to better his stance. "I know, Corin. I'm not a beginner."

Corin grinned, his pale blue eyes dancing with mirth. He lowered his sword until the point touched the ground, leaning on it. "Oh yes? You only began six months ago. Father says it takes at least a year to graduate the title of a beginner."

Ely glared fiercely, his jaw tightening. His eyes hardened like blue crystal with anger. With a shout, he struck furiously at Corin, his blade a silver streak as he swung.

His form was sloppy, his strike uncoordinated, and Corin had him disarmed and at swordpoint without hardly moving. Ely hissed a curse as he backed up, hands raised in surrender.

"You should be more careful with your temper," Corin said, twirling his blade once before sliding it into the scabbard on his hip. "It can be a valuable weapon if you use it correctly."

Ely sneered at him and retrieved his own sword, sheathing it on his back.

The cry of a hawk shrieked through the sky, and they both looked up. The silhouette of the bird spiraled earthward, black against the boiling clouds. It shrieked again, high and drawn-out.

"Drein?" Corin asked of his brother.

Ely shaded his eyes with his hand as he watched the raptor descend. "No, it's Xeer. Drein wouldn't come all the way out here. His pride would be at stake, visiting us." The last sentence was bitter and sarcastic.

Xeer, his feathers whistling in the wind, stooped in a neat arch. Only a moment before he hit the ground, he morphed into a human. Or at least he looked human—mostly.

His ears tapered into points, longer than Craventi's, and his hair was woven with feathers, falling over his back in a long brown braid. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and even his long grey robes couldn't hide the impressive musculature of his build.

His eyes were tar-black, intelligent and calculating, his skin as dark as chocolate. His nose was straight and long, his forehead high and proud, his hands big and calloused. Two hilts protruded from crossed scabbards laced to his back. This man was a warrior.