Excerpt. The Death Wizard Chronicles. Book Two

The Death Wizard Chronicles
Book Two
Moon Goddess
Melvin, Jim
ISBN 13: 978-1-897381-48-9

Paperback; perfect bound; 5.5 x 8.5


Sample Excerpt, © Rain Publishing Inc.

A reason to live

1
A princess with golden hair stood alone atop a hillock overlooking a secluded valley. A warm breeze stroked her face like a loving hand. Just a short time before, her small village had been as steamy as a sweat lodge. But now the last remnants of the sun had disappeared, signaling the start of her favorite time of day. As always she relished the arrival of dusk.

The Ripe Corn Moon soon would rise above the mountains surrounding the valley. She could hardly wait for the full moon to creep over the peaks in the southeastern sky. The sight would fill her with joy.

The princess’ name was Magena, which meant sacred moon in her language. She was an adopted member of the Ropakans, a tribal people who dwelled in the Mahaggata Mountains. Though she knew their ways and traditions, Magena was unlike the other members of her clan. Her skin was the color of cream, while the Ropakans were deeply tanned. Her hair was thin and golden, in contrast to the dense black of her sisters and brothers. Her eyes were blue-gray; theirs, dark brown. Her body was long and voluptuous; theirs, short and stocky.

One difference far surpassed the physical dissimilarities. Unlike the others of her clan, Magena wielded magical powers — but she didn’t dare display them openly. Eight years before, her adoptive father had rescued her from the wicked currents of the Ogha River. Since then, he had urged her to hide her gifts in order to avoid jealousy and distrust among the villagers.

The moon was Magena’s friend and ally. She reveled in its reflected light. The sun did not scorch her, but neither did it nourish; she could wander freely during the day, but she often felt weak and sick to her stomach. However, when night came she burst with vitality. The moon fueled her strength, and when it rose to fullness her puissance reached maximum potential.

As she stood on the hillock that evening, Magena sensed her father’s presence before actually seeing him. His name was Takoda, which meant friend of all in the language of the Ropakans. Since the early years of their relationship, Takoda had taken rascally pleasure in sneaking up and startling her, often leaping from behind boulders or trees with a wild look in his eyes. When she shrieked, he would laugh until he cried — and then apologize with the insincere remorse of a trickster. At first Magena had resented her father’s strange sense of humor. But eventually she grew to adore his good-natured attention.

Nowadays he rarely succeeded in frightening her. Magena was eighteen years old and in the full bloom of womanhood. She had eyes like an eagle’s, ears like a tyger’s, and a nose like a bear’s. But many of her people made similar claims. What separated her from the others were her supernatural powers, which radiated from her body like heat off a wildfire. No one could enter her invisible aura without her noticing. At nighttime, especially, it was impossible to approach undetected.

“Father, will you never tire of this game?” said Magena, her sweet voice barely audible. “I’ve told you dozens of times: You’ll never surprise me again. Even asleep, I hear you. You make as much noise as a moose!”

Takoda grunted, kicking the grass at his feet.

“I crawled up behind you as slow and silent as a snail,” he whined, “and still you heard me.”

Magena let out an exaggerated sigh. Then she laughed.

“Dear one, if you meant to imitate a snail, you failed. A cave troll is more like it. I heard you before you began your climb.”

“Bah! You’re no fun to be around, anymore.”

But then he hugged her, and she responded lovingly, pressing her cheek against his weathered face. They stood side by side — she a full span taller — and looked down at their small village.

“I love you, Magena,” Takoda whispered. “You were not born from my seed, but I’m as proud as any father could be. None among the Ropakans can boast of a finer child. Having you as a daughter has been a high honor.”

“Dear one, having you as a father has been a far higher honor. You rescued me from a monster and invited me into your family — with arms open wide. I owe you more than my life. Without you, I wouldn’t have my soul.”

“You owe me nothing that you have not repaid a thousand times.”

They hugged again and stood silently, arm in arm. Below them, their village roared to life. Tonight the Ropakans would give thanks to the Great Spirit for the arrival of the year’s first crop of corn. Dancing and feasting would last until morning. Venison, bear, and turkey already were roasting. Potatoes, beans, and nuts simmered in clay pots. Peaches, berries, and figs were spread on long tables. There was black tea brewed from smoked holly leaves, along with apple wine and cornstalk beer — more food and drink than three times their number could consume.

“Come, daughter. We must return to the village before your mother’s side of the family eats everything.”

Just then, the drums began to rumble. The ceremony had begun. A smile spread across Magena’s beautiful face, and she laughed again.

“Race you there!” she said, sprinting down the hill.

Takoda watched her run, but he did not immediately follow. Instead he remained atop the hillock and pressed his hand against his breast. He loved her so much, he feared his heart would burst.

But he worried about her even more. His mind would not rest.

Can I protect her forever? We already have spent so much of our lives hiding from Invictus’ monsters. What will become of her? And us? My brother says we’re safe. But I’m not so sure. We’ve been in the same place too long.

Finally Takoda started down the hillock, as slow and silent as a snail……….