The Book of the Staff, page 1
The Book of the Staff
Eric R. Asher
Also by Eric R. Asher
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The Steamborn Trilogy:
Steamborn
Steamforged
Steamsworn
The Vesik Series:
(Recommended for Ages 17+)
Days Gone Bad
Wolves and the River of Stone
Winter’s Demon
This Broken World
Destroyer Rising
Rattle the Bones
Witch Queen’s War
Forgotten Ghosts
The Book of the Ghost
The Book of the Claw
The Book of the Sea
The Book of the Staff
The Book of the Rune*
The Book of the Sails*
The Book of the Wing*
The Book of the Blade*
The Book of the Fang*
The Book of the Reaper*
The Vesik Series Box Sets
Box Set One (Books 1-3)
Box Set Two (Books 4-6)
Box Set Three (Books 7-8)
Box Set Four: The Books of the Dead Part 1 (Coming in 2020)*
Box Set Five: The Books of the Dead Part 2 (Coming in 2020)*
Mason Dixon – Monster Hunter:
Episode One
Episode Two
Episode Three
*Want to receive an email when one of Eric’s books releases? Sign up for Eric’s mailing list.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Also by Eric R. Asher
Copyright Page
Epigraph
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Note from Eric R. Asher
Also by Eric R. Asher
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 by Eric R. Asher
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Smashwords Edition, 2019
Smashwords Edition License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Edited by Laura Matheson
Cover typography by Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae
Cover design ©Phatpuppyart.com – Claudia McKinney
~
Things forgotten will always return.
~
CHAPTER ONE
Koda walked through the ancient stone hallway, ghostly torches casting as much shadow as they did light. It was a place he’d been far more times than he could recall, but rarely had the hour felt so late, or the stakes so high.
Pieces of the conversation he’d had with the elders of the Society of Flame echoed through his mind. Was there something more he could have said? To help them understand better?
Koda rolled his oversized prayer beads between his fingers. The old stones had been given to him almost a decade before he died. He’d been surprised to find they still felt as though they had physical weight.
Now, centuries after joining the Society of Flame, conserving their secrets, and bestowing knowledge upon leaders who would shape the world, his own council of elders were failing him. None of them had taken the time to speak with Damian since it was clear he was a mantle bearer.
And now … in the most unlikely of times, an ally he hadn’t expected. What did a mage solis have to offer a trapped god?
The panda bear padding along beside Koda chuffed.
“Did I say that out loud?” Koda asked, patting the bear on the head out of habit more than an actual belief the old samurai wanted head scratches.
The light of the torches changed, took on the orange glow of living flame as the pair crossed the sanctum. A world between worlds was where the Society of Flame lived, and if they didn’t change their ways, it was where they’d perish as they placed the value of their archives above the lives of those they could aid.
Happy changed as they exited the sanctum, his form narrowing into hunched shoulders until the stride of a quadruped became the rigid posture of an armored man.
He looked to Shiawase. “You once told me you could fight better as a bear.”
“That may be true in many cases, but it is a great deal harder to whisper.”
Koda inclined his head and led the way around a corner built from sheer gray stone. It wasn’t perfect like the sanctum had been. This place showed its age, and as the corridor opened before them, it revealed a multi-tiered castle filled with ageless doorways.
“It never ceases to impress,” Shiawase said, his gaze trailing up the tower of doors.
“It is hard to imagine what power could have built it, or how many organizations have dwelled inside its great halls.”
“Cults,” Shiawase said. “I believe the word you’re looking for is cults.”
Koda inclined his head. This place had been home to more than one cult. He didn’t like that word much, as some of those close-knit groups had made great progress in the art of wards and conservation before they were destroyed by the Watchers.
“Perhaps they will call the Society of Flame a cult one day,” Koda said, leading the way to a wide spiral staircase.
They followed the curve of the bronze railing, rich with Celtic knots and wards of its own. Neither of them made a sound as Koda’s robes and Shiawase’s armor whispered in the silence.
On the second floor, they passed a bright green door that looked as though it had been freshly painted. An intricate ruin of scorch marks marred the door beside it. They walked past a simple black door with an old silver lock before Koda slowed. The fourth was red stone like the body of the Old God called Aeros.
Koda stopped there and exchanged a glance with Shiawase. “You need not make this journey, my friend.”
“I’ve been dead a long time, Koda. If this is the end, I’ll embrace it gladly for Vicky.”
Koda gave Shiawase a shallow bow before twisting the cold stone doorknob and stepping into a brilliant blue light.
This was not the Warded Ways. Not the chaos of the Abyss. An ocean of magic surrounded them, pure and brilliant and welcoming. This place, the road between realms as the Fae once called it, was something else. Lost magic to all but a few.
But that brilliant light didn’t last. One step in, and one step out. Koda sighed as the last of the light faded and they left the ocean of magic behind.
“It is a shame we cannot spend more time in that place,” Shiawase said. “It is a rare thing to feel such peace. I do not understand it.”
Trees took shape around them, shadowed by the late morning sun. Long-abandoned train tracks peeked out from the covering of fallen leaves and detritus of the forest floor.
To the side were the stone remains of a train station that once carried quarried stone far from where they now stood. Old bricks still stood on three sides, but as Koda turned toward the vanished wall, he saw the silhouette.
Golden armor glinted in the sun, almost blinding to look upon, as it had likely been designed a great many years ago. The man eyed them, his short black hair standing still against the breeze rustling the dead leaves around them.
Shiawase’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
“You kept your word,” Koda said. It wasn’t an accusation, more an acknowledgment that the Watcher hadn’t burned them to ash the moment they stepped from the gateway.
Edgar—Watcher, mage solis, immortal—smiled. “Did I not tell you the council would remain neutral?”
Koda twisted the prayer beads between his fingers before letting them fall back against his pale gray cloak. “Some days, I do not think they deserve the title, but I am not ready to give up on them. I did hope you would be mistaken.”
Edgar nodded. “To a degree, I was. But that would be considered cheating.”
Shiawase frowned at Edgar’s somewhat cryptic words and stepped closer. “You would play games, at a time like this?”
Edgar reached up as if to adjust the bowler hat he wasn’t wearing. It was odd to see the immortal without it. “Not games, Shiawase. Not games at all. There’s more than one database that
“A new anchor for the devil’s knot?” Koda asked. “Truly?”
“A theory, at least,” Edgar said. “One of the archives of the mage machina documented a story from a time around the Revolutionary War. A woman, gifted much as our friend Ward, tried many different anchors to save more than one life. What she learned after a great many … experiments, was that the devil’s knot cannot be anchored to an inanimate object. It must be anchored to a soul.”
Shiawase sighed at those words, shoulders slumping a hair. “That leaves us back where we started.”
Edgar rubbed the back of his hand beneath his gauntlet. “Of course, a soul doesn’t have to be in a body.”
Shiawase froze.
Koda stood up straighter. “What are you saying? We could use a ghost as an anchor?”
“Not any ghost,” Edgar said. “And you need more than just the ghost themselves.”
“A binding,” Koda said, his voice trailing off as the wheels started to spin in his mind. “You’re talking about a binding ward to tie a soul and a devil’s knot together. To anchor it to something using a soulart.” Koda raised his eyes to look upon Edgar. “You speak of treasonous arts, friend.”
“I once believed that,” Edgar said. “And perhaps there was some logic to it, given how dangerous the outcome has been. But that boy has saved far more lives than he’s hurt. And he did it with magicks that have been forbidden longer than we’ve lived upon this rock.”
“It is how the magic is wielded that defines it,” Shiawase said. “But any art so dangerous could bring ruin upon those who wield it and those who are in its way.”
Edgar grimaced. “You might not like my suggestion, Shiawase. But it’s for Vicky. Remember that.”
Koda turned to gaze at the samurai, suspicion of Edgar’s plan already forming on his lips. “You wish to bind him to the girl. To use Shiawase as the anchor for the devil’s knot. Have you gone mad?”
“We cannot lose the girl,” Edgar said, his words hurried. “If we lose her, we lose Damian. We lose Sam. We lose the fraying threads of what’s holding our damned army together.”
“And perhaps the most dangerous creature ever to set foot upon this earth will perish,” Koda said, though the words felt wrong. “There is much to consider, I do not know how—”
“I’ll do it,” Shiawase said, his fingers flexing around the hilt of his sheathed sword.
“We do not know the risks!” Koda said, snapping his arm out in a violent gesture to Shiawase. “You could be sacrificing yourself for nothing.”
“I could be sacrificing myself for that child. For that one light left to burn away the shadows. It is worth the risk, my friend. There is nothing more worth that risk.”
“I know you care for her, but—”
“The decision is not yours to make, Koda.” Shiawase reached out and put a hand on the ghost’s shoulder. “And it is not your place to stand in my way.”
Koda took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked to Edgar. “What do you need for the ward?”
“There are few things able to channel that much power without disintegrating. One of the most stable looks like a golden Ryō coin. It can host all but the most powerful of wards.”
Shiawase frowned. “You will need to be more specific, my friend. The Ryō has a long history, and is perhaps better known as the koban after the Tokugawa Period.”
“I don’t know those specifics,” Edgar said. “But I know someone who would.”
“Ward.” Koda glanced between the two. “This is truly the path you wish to walk?”
Shiawase nodded.
“So be it. Seek out Ward. I will visit Adannaya to tell her what’s been decided. She should hear this in person so she has someone to yell at.”
Edgar smiled. “Better you than me. I’ll return to the front. Morrigan is holding the walls on her own, and I have little doubt they could use assistance.”
“Be safe, friends,” Koda said. “This war is far from done.”
CHAPTER TWO
Zola grumbled at the expired sour cream in the fridge at Coldwater. Damian had been the last one there, and it was his turn to restock everything. She turned the tub in her hand and frowned. Would two weeks be that bad? She cracked the lid and sniffed at it. Nothing unusually sharp assaulted her nose.
She shrugged and set the sour cream on the counter. She’d survived worse. Zola reached for the freezer. Now that, Damian had most certainly restocked. She shook her head at the mass of chimichanga packages that had been fit into the small space like a puzzle of frozen bricks.
A pack of ghost pepper chimichangas in hand, Zola turned toward the microwave, only to catch a glimmer of gray from the corner of her eye.
“Zola,” the voice said.
In the time it took for her to realize her cane was across the room, her company was nowhere to be seen, and her heartrate had spiked. She summoned a shield, sacrificing her toes as the brick of chimichangas thumped against the ground.
A brilliant blue shield of power stood between her and the interloper. “Goddammit Koda. Are you trying to kill me before Nudd gets a chance? Shit, boy. Shit.” She cursed again and let the shield snap out of existence.
“My apologies, Adannaya.”
“Stuff you into a bloodstone with Tessrian is what Ah should do,” Zola muttered. She frowned at her foot and wiggled her toes. Satisfied she hadn’t managed to break anything, she snatched up the bag of chimichangas and walked through the ghost.
Koda gasped as she passed through him, and she didn’t suppress a wicked grin at the ghost’s surprise. Necromancers had far more of a presence to the dead than commoners did.
“What brings you?” Zola asked, tossing a chimichanga onto a plate and starting the microwave.
“Our meeting with the council yielded unexpected results.”
“How so?”
“Many of the society do not wish to take sides in the conflict.”
“Fools,” Zola muttered. “What do they think will happen if Nudd takes power? That he’ll leave them be? They hold the knowledge of what he’s done. He’ll come for them, Koda.”
“I know. Vicky seeks the Heart of Quindaro, and Nixie I’m sure will pursue the Eye of Atlantis. Those powers we were already aware of. But there are more.”
Zola retrieved her food from the microwave, slopped some sour cream on top, and headed for the front room by the wood stove. She set the plate down and picked up what looked like a piece of a horn.
Koda frowned at it.
“It’s the Heart of Quindaro. Fragment of a demon.”
“What? Vicky already returned?”
Zola nodded. “She’s here with Luna, one of Camazotz’s death bats. They’re out in the woods with the ghosts. Ah admit, Luna’s discomfort around ghosts is somewhat amusing. Leave it to Vicky to try to help her ‘get over it.’ We’ll see how well that goes.”
Koda hesitated, eyeing the Heart of Quindaro before continuing. “Edgar has been speaking to the Society of Flame. Did you know?”
Zola barked out a laugh between bites. “Did Ah know? How in the seven hells would Ah know what’s going on in your secret clubhouse?”
“Your alliance with Edgar. I thought he may have told you.”
“Ah haven’t seen much of Edgar lately. We’ve both had our hands a bit full.”
“My mistake. You’ll understand if concern for secrecy drives many of us in these times.”
Zola studied Koda as she stuffed a bite of chimichanga in her mouth that would have made Damian proud. She chewed and swallowed. “Nixie makes for the Eye of Atlantis. That still leaves us short a core to transfer the devil’s knot.”
“Nixie has gone already? Good, that’s good. How did you know?”
“Aideen?” Zola said. No one answered, so she stood up and made her way into the bedroom. “Aideen!”
A bleary-eyed fairy sat up on a small pillow by an oil lamp and blinked. “I’m up. I’m up.”
“We have company. Company that surprised me while you were sleeping.”
“Quite sure you can take care of yourself.” Aideen launched herself up onto Zola’s shoulder and yawned. Zola settled onto the couch before Aideen hopped down onto the coffee table and took a seat on a tiny chair carved out to fit the fairy’s wings.
