Introduction

Embark on a thrilling dark fantasy with a balanced approach to religious institution, sure to spark interesting theological discussion.

Four years ago, the Son of Man returned to Earth, seemingly to begin a new age of enlightenment. But two years later, he vanished without a trace ...

Today, nineteen-year-old Kane Bailey--a nobleman and sorcerer's apprentice--works and studies in his master's tower in the middle of his nation's capital. In spite of making a few mistakes (such as nearly blowing up a spellchamber), he shows the potential of being a great sorcerer. But his dreams of working with magic come to an end when he's caught in the middle of an assassination attempt on the King's life.

Upon getting captured by the assassin, Kane is swept up by lofty ambitions, terrible greed, and maddening bloodlust. Cut off from his sorcery, he'll need to rely on his wits and knowledge to survive, as well as the trust and friendship of a young woman who may be taking on more than she can handle.

And a question lingers: What are the "Three Roses," and what do they have to do with the impending war?

Editorial Review

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Excerpt

Three

Dressed in his apprentice’s robe with a lantern in hand, Kane went to Master Cypher’s chambers and took a steadying breath before knocking on the door. The master, as predicted, was irritable yet he didn’t snap at Kane upon seeing him. Kane said he couldn’t sleep and asked permission to use the study to make potions. Master Cypher grudgingly gave it and told him to not make another mess.

Kane entered the study and set his lantern down on the round beechwood table in the center of the room. The mess he had made yesterday was all cleaned up; Rogers and Loraine had probably finished it by the time his writing hand was starting to ache in protest. The only good thing to come out of that incident was the reminder that he should put the sign up and lock the door, which he now did. Not that it was absolutely necessary since making simple low-level potions wasn’t an unstable process. Even if someone walked in on him, he could steady the swirling magic and keep it from exploding … he hoped.

He retrieved the ingredients from a far shelf which included daffodil seeds mixed in honeydew, a few pinches of minced moss, two vials of snail slime, two salted tongues of mountain goats, a jar of water with flakes of charcoal, and a few blades of lemongrass for flavor. In his younger days, he was greatly disgusted upon learning what he was ingesting, but now, years later after drinking countless potions, he rarely gave the strange ingredients a second thought.

Ironically it took a magic potion to make magic potions, which raised the age-old question: Which came first, the magic or the potion? No one may ever know for sure; all that Kane cared about was that with the magic of just one potion, he could make as many as four new vials. He now took a vial from a wooden stand, popped out the cork, and downed the contents. He could tell this one was made by Master Cypher, for it tasted like dirt yet went down smoothly. The master said that potions shouldn’t taste good in order to dissuade mages from drinking too many at once. It was a good point, yet Kane insisted on adding good flavor to his potions so it would put him in the mood for spell-casting.

He took out his wand and poured some magic into the circle engraved on the metal plate, readying it for cooking. As soon as he did, he detected something was wrong. The magic was a little unstable as it swirled around the circle, and he had to take a moment to correct it. It was no difficult task, but it shouldn’t have happened in the first place. He wondered if he had made a mistake somehow, but he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. It could be that the magic circle was getting faulty and needed to be replaced.

Or maybe someone was in the room with him.

He looked over his shoulder, suddenly aware that the only source of light in the room was his lantern, leaving everything but the center table cloaked in shadow. Someone could be hiding by the bookshelves near the door or the fish tanks in the back and he’d never know it. He thought about using a spell that gave him darkness vision, but he was still unpracticed in it and he didn’t feel like going blind for the rest of the day should the spell go awry.

“Hello?” he said, sounding more timid than he would have liked. He spoke again with more confidence: “Hello? Is anyone there?”

He waited but there was no response. He called out again, this time feeling a little foolish. Of course no one was in the room with him. If there was a servant, he or she would have said something and left. And in the unlikely case there was an intruder, Master Cypher’s wards would have detected him and automatically detained him.

He turned back to the magic circle and got it working. The next step was to put the cauldron over it and pour in the charcoal-blackened water.

Yet the circle still insisted that another source of life essence was in the room. It made no sense unless some animal about the size of an adult bloodhound was nearby.

He stepped from the table and looked around. He still couldn’t see anything, but perhaps if he took the lantern …

He froze. There, by the ladder near the leftmost bookcase was a green glow he had missed before. Maybe his eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light yet, but now it was unmistakable. Something was there where it didn’t belong.

“Hello? What is that?”

He took one step towards the glow, and then a gray figure stepped out and ran to him, his footfalls muffled by the plush red carpeting. Before Kane had a chance to react, the figure hopped and flew into him, knocking the wind out of him and bringing him to the ground.

Once Kane got his breath back, the figure kneeled on top of him, pinning him down. He struggled at first but ceased once the figure brought a blade to his throat. The figure laid the flat of the blade against the sensitive skin to make him feel it then turned it so the edge was just under Kane’s chin.

“Don’t move,” the figure whispered. “Don’t scream or I’ll have to silence you forever.”

Kane’s eyes widened in surprise for it was a woman’s voice he heard. He wouldn’t have guessed he’d be facing a female intruder, but no matter what gender it was, this intruder was bound to prove deadly.

“Where is the King?” she asked.

He sucked in a breath in alarm. So that’s what she was here for! Even though the King tried his best to mask his whereabouts, one of his enemies knew he had left the Palace and was now under minimal guard. “I … I don’t know.”

The intruder lifted the blade in such a way that the edge didn’t cut the skin—at least, not yet. “Oh, but I think you do. There have to be guest quarters. Where are they?”

“Oh, uh … the next floor. I … I don’t know which room, though.”

“Okay, get up …” She slid the blade into a sheath at her hip and rose off of him. She then yanked his robe to bring him to his feet and held his wrists behind him. “You just drank a potion, so I guess I can’t just leave you here.”

“No, please, I’m just a nobody, I won’t do anything—”

“Shut up,” the intruder hissed, digging her nails into his skin. “Now, you’re going to show me where the King is, and if you run or scream I’ll make you regret it. Now let’s move.”

As she yanked him towards the door, Kane tried casting a spell. Nothing lethal, just something that would shove her away from him. He wouldn’t even need to say a chant to do it. But when he pulled on the right mental faculties, he found his magic being blocked like a river hitting a dam.

The intruder halted and briskly shook his arms. “I felt that. Don’t pull anything funny, or I’ll give you a new smile over your jugular. Now move.”

They reached the door, and she unlocked and opened it by a crack. She then stood there a moment, appearing to listen for approaching footsteps. It was after sundown so there shouldn’t be much servant activity, but there could always be one nearby. Once she was satisfied, the intruder opened the door all the way and pulled Kane along by one arm, wielding her blade—a dagger nearly as long as her forearm—in her other hand.

“Where to?” she hissed at him. He pointed in the direction of the stairs, and she led him along with slow and deliberate steps. In the ample light of the hallway, Kane could get a better look at her. A gray hood covered much of her head, but he thought he could see strands of raven-black hair poking out from the sides. A gray cape hung down to her waist, and she had a gray tunic beneath a leather cuirass that bore several blade marks. Leather guards protected her forearms and wrists, and knee-high black boots softly creaked as she walked. Her eyes (from what little he could tell within the shadow of her hood) were about as cold as the King’s, only younger and sharper.

Once they reached the stairs, she again listened for anyone approaching then gave Kane a warning glance and led him up, heading a bit faster. He wondered how she was able to break into the tower without alarming the wards. She should be in captivity right now, not leading him along to the King’s guestroom.

It then occurred to him that the reason was the same one that blocked his magic. He could feel the potion he had taken working inside him, filling his blood and nerves with magic. Yet it was being blocked by some outside force—the same force that was undoubtedly making the wards ineffective.

He wondered how she was doing it … and then he saw it. The green glow he had seen in the study was now noticeable in the dim light of the stairwell. It came from something attached to her belt.

A negating crystal, it had to be! It was cancelling any and all magic around her, not only blocking his abilities but making her invisible to the master’s wards. Even so, it was hard to believe she was carrying one that was so powerful. Negating crystals were hard to make, even the cheap ones on sale in Zardak’s Magic Emporium. Finding one that could counter Master Cypher’s abilities would be nearly impossible to find.

Well apparently there is a place that carried one, and she found it. And now it’s allowing her to break in here and threaten my life. But still, the crystal can only do so much. How in the world could she sneak in without anyone noticing? Where are the King’s guards?

When they reached the third floor, the intruder hurriedly brought them beside a column of granite blocks jutting from the left wall. She again appeared to listen and was rewarded for her caution when the two Royal Guardsmen in their clinking armor and purple capes approached. She grabbed Kane’s arm with both hands, even as the handle of her dagger was still in her left one. She pulled him closer to her, and he felt uncomfortable as her body heat mingled with his.

As the guards passed him by, part of him wanted to yell and push her away, believing he could come out of this mess with his head intact. Perhaps he’d even be branded a hero; the King would decorate him, and his father would look on with such pride in his eyes. But the intruder’s earlier threats—coupled with the dagger held against his arm—rendered him silent and gutless. He didn’t want to chance finding out what the intruder could do to him if he turned against her.

All his life he had been dependent on magic and his father’s influence to help him out of tough spots. Now that he had neither, he felt utterly helpless.

The guardsmen started down the stairs, unaware that the floor they had just patrolled had been breached by an enemy. Once their clinking sounded like a faraway echo, the intruder led him down the hall to the guestrooms. Kane inwardly cursed his weakness, but he supposed it was too late to do anything about it now.

“Which one?” the intruder asked once they reached the row of doors.

“I don’t know, I never saw him go in one,” Kane replied.

The intruder shushed him. Kane had kept his voice down, but it seemed he was too loud for the woman’s liking. She put her back to a wall and appeared to listen again, perhaps for any activity within one of the rooms. Dissatisfied with the silence, she moved further down the hall, dragging Kane along by sinking her nails into his arm. If it wasn’t for the sleeve, she might have broken the skin.

When they reached a statue of a golden lion baring its jaws, the intruder went around to the other side and pressed up against it. She listened once more, using the hand with the dagger to pull back one side of her hood. This gave Kane the chance to get a better look at her. Her eyes seemed to be blue, fierce and intense, bordered with eyeliner. Her nose slanted slightly upward, and her thin lips pressed together with quiet determination.

It was strange to think of her so, but she was quite lovely.

Footsteps sounded again, so the intruder yanked Kane to the statue’s side with her. There was no clinking of armor, so it must be a servant. Kane grew horribly concerned, afraid that the intruder would harm the incomer if she deemed it necessary. He didn’t know either of the Royal Guardsmen from Adam, but he was familiar with every one of the serving staff, and he’d never forgive himself if he allowed one to be injured or killed.

He noticed how the intruder tilted her head up while listening, exposing her neck. Just one swift blow there would incapacitate her enough to get him free, and then he could warn the servant to run away and alert the guards.

But he couldn’t do it. One reason why he was always terrible at sword- and spear-fighting was that he hated inflicting harm on others. For many years he didn’t see much of a problem with that … but he did now when a little backbone might be useful.

The incomer turned out to be Charlie, whose duties included keeping the guestrooms clean at all times. He was dressed in his finest uniform with a green-and-red brocaded vest and shoulder pads with gold tassels, and he carried a large silver platter with a dome lid. He knocked on the door of guestroom #15 and said, “Your dinner, Sire.”

Kane wanted to scream so much he managed to open his mouth although nothing came out. He pushed against the intruder a little, but the intruder pushed him against the lion statue.

The door open and there he was: King Hugo, Third of His Name, ready to usher Charlie in.

“No,” someone said in a weak voice, and Kane was surprised when he realized it had been him. Somehow the sight of the King managed to give him enough guts to finally say something.

Not that it mattered since the intruder dashed right at him, shoving Charlie aside to get into the room. Charlie landed hard on the granite floor along with the platter and steaming venison that was under the dome lid. Sounds of fighting emitted from the room, the intruder crying out obscenities as the King snarled.

In hindsight, Kane realized he should have run then. If he had just run, if he had just tried to see how Charlie was, if he had just tried to alert someone, anyone … his life wouldn’t have taken such a drastic turn.

Instead he merely stood petrified by the lion statue and stared at the open door. His Majesty the King was going to be assassinated only a few meters away from him … and he had just helped the assassin do it.

He awaited the sounds of tearing flesh and the King giving his dying breath, but they never came. Instead the battle took an interesting turn as the mighty sound of clashing metal started to ring in his ears. He glimpsed the intruder backing away, her movements lithe and skillful, as she avoided the slashes of a longsword the King wielded. She tried to take advantage of an opening in his defense and swiped her blade at his head, only to see him snap his head back and raise his blade to meet hers. As skilled as she was, the King seemed to be better, matching her speed with agility coupled with brute strength.

It was hard for Kane to see the defining blow, but the King managed to strike her hand in such a way that it drew no blood yet it forced her to drop the dagger. The King then stepped aside and used the tip of his sword to slide the dagger under one of the guest beds. The intruder stepped back and produced a throwing knife from a hidden sheath under her cuirass. She drew it back, aimed for his head, and threw. She was either too slow or it was something the King fully expected, for he turned aside and deflected the blade with a shoulder guard.

In some respects, His Majesty should have been dead the moment the intruder had rushed him. But incredibly he had put her on the defensive, forcing her to vacate the room. Perhaps he had been expecting her so he had worn his leather cuirass and some light steel armor, or perhaps it was because of his legendary paranoia. Either way, it seemed he would survive this night.

The intruder ran for the stairwell but skidded to a stop after a few steps. The familiar clanking of armor sounded from down the hall, as well as the excited voice of Master Cypher telling them to hurry. The intruder turned and spotted the King stepping from his door with sword in hand, eager to finish her.

The intruder quickly looked around with wild eyes. Charlie, who had always been quick to respond to minor emergencies such as a spilled drink, had already run away. That left Kane as the only other person in the immediate area, and since he had proven to be an effective captive, the intruder wrapped an arm around him from behind and held her last throwing knife near his throat.

“No, please!” Kane cried, trying to sound commanding yet not quite getting there.

“One wrong move, Hugo, and he gets it!” the intruder yelled.

The King lowered the tip of his sword as if ready to run her through whether she had a hostage or not. “Who are you? Where’re you from?”

“I’m not telling you! Just grant me safe passage from here, and you’ll never see me again.”

The King grunted. “I’ll grant you permission to put your pretty head on a spike above the Castle gates. That’s the only place you’ll be going from here, dearie.”

“Let him go!” Master Cypher cried as he and the guardsmen entered the scene. The guards still clutched their three-pronged spears, but they now drew out their swords as well, ready to use whichever weapon the situation called for.

“Shit,” the intruder muttered. “Just let me pass or the boy dies. I mean it!”

Even as Kane looked at Master Cypher with pleading eyes, the only thing he could think of was, Why did she call me a “boy?” I’m nineteen!

The King shook his head in disgust. “Kill her.”

“Allow me, Sire.” Master Cypher stepped forward with one hand held out before him, then halted and pointed at the intruder.

Hundreds of wavy black lines appeared out of thin air on either side of Kane and the intruder, and like a flock of birds they moved in perfect synchronicity towards them. The lines attempted to land on them but were blocked by the sudden green glow emitting from the intruder’s side. The intruder let go of Kane and they both put their hands over their ears, for the lines emitted a high-pitched shriek like nails scratching an eternally-long blackboard. Even the King and Master Cypher appeared uncomfortable as the sound pierced their ears like jagged shards of glass.

Grimacing with clenched teeth, the intruder managed to lower her right hand and bring out the negating crystal, holding it before her like a sword. It was shaped like a stalagmite and was slightly longer than her hand. Its glow was now strong enough to bathe all present company in its soft light the color of peat moss as it worked against Master Cypher’s spell.

Kane recognized the spell as a particularly deadly one. The black lines were indications that the very fabric of space was being deformed, turning into something like a sub-existent cheese grater. If just one of those lines were to touch him, it would slice him in two like a piano wire through jelly; if all of them got to him, he’d be cut into ribbons and there might not be anything left to identify him with. He’d be nothing more than a large red stain on the granite floor and walls of this hallway.

The only way to prevent that was to stay close to the girl and her crystal, as much as he would prefer not to. The crystal was miraculously keeping the lines at bay, making them maintain their distance as if the lines were water and the crystal was oil.

Master Cypher grew noticeably frustrated. Within this tower he was like a deity, able to perform powerful spells without needing to drink a potion first. Not only were the wards surrounding the tower a means of protection, they were a reservoir of magic that Master Cypher had added to over the past few years. It was an arrangement that only a sorcerer of his skill and age could create without going mad or dying from a hemorrhage.

And yet that mighty reservoir of magic seemed to be no match for this girl’s crystal, which seemed miniscule in comparison. Master Cypher tried increasing the spell’s intensity, but the crystal’s glow intensified with it and continued to protect its bearer.

The intruder and sorcerer’s apprentice may have been safe from the deadly black lines, but they did feel an invisible force press on them from all directions. Their clothes and hair flattened against their skin, and they found it hard to keep their feet in one place. They oddly felt as though they were underwater yet were far from weightless.

Master Cypher noticed this and decided on a new strategy. He discontinued the spell for about a second then brought it up again, but now the lines appeared on only one side of the two young people. The intruder staggered backward then leaned toward the wave of black lines to keep from falling. Still, she couldn’t help but step away from the invisible force one small step at a time. Kane meanwhile did his best to stay beside her, holding a hand in front of his eyes to keep the force from closing them shut. He nonetheless had a few close calls when his head and feet came perilously close to the wave of lines.

Little did the intruder know that in backing away, she was doing just what the sorcerer wanted her to. Once she was in the right place, Master Cypher made a horizontal slicing motion with both hands thus ending the spell. The intruder staggered a little but stayed on her feet while Kane fell on his rear.

Master Cypher took a moment to glare at her—this slip of a girl who had managed to sneak this far into his tower without his knowledge—and then he smiled and snapped his fingers.

A trapdoor of thin granite blocks opened in the floor, which the intruder fell through. Kane’s rear teetered on the edge a moment, but he shifted too much weight on his left side and ended up going down as well. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

Were Callie’s actions early in the book justified? Should Kane have done more to assist her?

Various characters in this book have different viewpoints on God and his son. Which viewpoint most resonated with you?

Most Christian-themed books avoid vulgar expressions and content; “The Legend of the Three Roses” certainly isn’t one of them. Was the vulgarity inappropriate or simply a reflection of real life? Did the vulgarity have a point to it?

Weblinks

»	Kirkus review
»	Literary Titan review
»	Reader's favorite review

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