Frustrated, Edwin screamed and tried again.
The Bloodletter easily absorbed his second attack, and then shot the energy
right back at him. Edwin yelled out in pain as he dropped to the ground, his arms
hanging lifelessly at his sides.
“Stay down,” I said, standing over him.
Finish him.
The Bloodletter vibrated with the anticipation of revenge. It was, after all,
what the powerful weapon was best at.
“No matter what you do to me”—Edwin scowled—“you’ll still never be
anything more than a worthless gwint.”
“I never wanted this to happen,” I said. “I didn’t even do anything to your
parents. It was Kurzol, their own Rock Troll, that caused their deaths. I was
there, I saw it.”
“But it wouldn’t have happened if you’d listened to me and stayed away,” he
said. “I never wanted this either, Greg. I was always on your side; I wanted to
help you get your dad back. I told you where he was, after all. All I ever wanted
was to be your friend.”
I knew he was telling the truth, and it broke my heart.
“Your parents held my dad prisoner,” I said. “That’s what started this. But it
doesn’t have to ruin us.”
“They did,” Edwin agreed. “It was their fault. But it’s too late now. They’re
likely dead because of your attack and I can’t ever let that go. What’s done is
done now. We’re done.”
I lifted the ax almost against my will—as if some unseen force was guiding
my actions.
Do it. If you don’t, this won’t ever be over. You can’t let him walk away, he
has vowed to avenge his parents and the violence will never end until he does.
You made a promise to your dad. Now keep it!
The Bloodletter pushed me, practically required me to swing the ax down
with all the power I could muster. I obliged. But it slammed into the wooden pier
right next to Edwin’s head, missing by less than a foot.
I let go of the ax as he stared wide-eyed at the black blade.
As my hand left the handle, it was all gone. The lust for the kill, for revenge,
evaporated into the wind. Edwin made no move for the ax, but looked at me,
shocked. Fury still gleamed in his eyes, but it was also laced with sorrow.
I shook my head.
This violent, vengeful person wasn’t me. I never would or could harm
Edwin, whether we were best friends or worst enemies. All I was doing was
wasting time—Edwin himself had said the key to my dad’s survival might still
wasting time—Edwin himself had said the key to my dad’s survival might still
be in one of his parents’ houses.
“Remember this moment,” I said to Edwin. “The mercy I showed my best
friend. If we ever meet again.”
He scoffed and was about to say something but I didn’t let him. Instead I
summoned more wind. It lifted him off the ground and carried him a hundred
yards out into the lake, plunging him into the water. His long swim back would
provide me a head start to get to his house. There was still a chance I could save
my dad.
I was about to walk away, leaving behind the Bloodletter.
But it called out to me.
You know you will need me again. This is far from over.
It was right. I sighed and pulled the ax from the pier. As soon as it was in my
hand again, I felt some regret over letting Edwin go unharmed. I knew they
weren’t my real feelings, that the Bloodletter was trying to bend me, use me for
its own selfish purposes, but I ignored it regardless. I had let Edwin go, and I’d
do it all over again if I could.
I spun around and faced the city. Then stopped. The Bloodletter fell from my
hand and clattered to the ground.
I stared in shock at what had distracted all the tourists on the pier during our
fight.
CHAPTER 48
The Dawn of Magic
The city was completely still.
The buildings were dark, the entire skyline blacked out in the morning light.
Every car on Lake Shore Drive was stalled and dead. The drivers walked around,
collectively scratching their heads, dumbfounded.
No car horns blared. Nothing moved but the people. Cell phones rested
lifelessly in hands, pockets, and purses, rendered completely useless.
The storm behind me shattered the silence with more thunder. A colorful,
swirling haze rose up from the sewers. It hovered above the lake’s surface like
fog. The rainbow mist swirled between buildings, seeped from the cracks in the
sidewalks.
It was Galdervatn.
The New Magical Age was beginning.
Nothing in this world would ever be the same again . . .
Acknowledgments
Thanks:
Pete Harris for all the inspiration and hard work on this story
All the people at Temple Hill and Putnam who helped make this book
what it is: Wyck Godfrey, Jennifer Besser, Kate Meltzer, Katherine
Perkins, and all others who I did not get to work with directly
The two verified real goblins, Ginny and Fernet, who have been
living in my house
BBB (you guys bring out the worst in me and I love it)
Beards
Meat (especially offal)
Large portions
All the fantasy stuff I lovingly borrowed from and/or lovingly made
fun of
Steve Malk, like always
Special Thanks:
People who care a lot about big houses, fancy cars, and money (for
inspiring the bad guys)
Sewer dwellers everywhere
Hamburgers with bacon on them
No Thanks:
Seitan
About the Author
Chris Rylander is the author of the Fourth Stall saga and the Codename
Conspiracy series. A fan of chocolate, chips, and chocolate chips, he lives in
Chicago.
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* A quick side note about how much me and my dad loved pizza: we once accidentally put our favorite
pizza place out of business on their now infamous first (and last) All-You-Can-Eat Wednesday. That was
another thing about Belmonts: we really, really loved eating. No fewer than four Belmonts have been
crowned world champion eaters in competitions.
* Okay, so yes, one time I went to school with my pockets full of bacon. Partially as a joke (fat kid smells
like bacon! ha-ha!), and partially because I frequently get hungry at school and bacon makes the best snack.
Either way, let’s just say it was not a great idea for a myriad of reasons.
* Which was true. So I always carried a spare shirt. If you came to just one of our huge Belmont family
holiday dinners you’d understand why this became a habit.
* Of course, that wasn’t entirely what I’d witnessed the day before, but I was trying to give a rousing
speech here, not be a typical Dwarf.
* All things considered, given what eventually happened, I should have just cut it loose then and there and
let it sink to the bottom of the lake. But that’s a story for another time, perhaps.