Through the Mirror Pond

Brian Bowen

Description

Fourteen year old Aiden has fallen into a new and strange world and has been captured monstrous creatures. Now his brother and sister, the twins Emma and Emrys, must race against time in a desperate attempt to free their brother from the clutches of the evil tyrant Zaphon.
Zaphon, an evil and powerful tyrant, sets into motion a plan that he has been hatching for millennia. The earth is not what it seems. Long ago, near the dawn of time, the earth was shattered into countless shards of itself, each separated by a veil so thin that it can sometimes be pierced.
Zaphon knows this quite well, and using dark, arcane arts he has caused fourteen-year-old Aiden to tumble though this veil from one world into another. Monstrous creatures capture Aiden, and he sees no way of escape.
Now, Aiden’s younger brother and sister, twins Emma and Emrys, must find new friends and allies as they race against time to free their brother from Zaphon’s clutches. If they do not succeed, Zaphon’s wicked wish will come true, and the world will fall into darkness.

Sujets

• Fantastique
• Epic Fantasy
• Science-Fiction
• Toute la Science-Fiction
• Univers ado
• Imaginaire
• Young Adult Fiction
• Epic
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Archway Publishing
• Date de parution: 08 décembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665730839
• Langue: English

Extrait

THROUGH THE MIRROR POND
Book One of the Shattered Earth Chronicles
 
 
 
BRIAN BOWEN
 
 
 
 

 
Copyright © 2022 Brian Bowen.
Brianbowenbooks.com
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
 
Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
ISBN: 978-1-6657-3084-6 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-3085-3 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-3083-9 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022917833
 
Archway Publishing rev. date: 12/30/2022
CONTENTS
THE PROLOGUE
THE FIRST CHAPTER
THE SECOND CHAPTER
THE THIRD CHAPTER
THE FOURTH CHAPTER
THE FIFTH CHAPTER
THE SIXTH CHAPTER
THE SEVENTH CHAPTER
THE EIGHTH CHAPTER
THE NINTH CHAPTER
THE TENTH CHAPTER
THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER
THE TWELFTH CHAPTER
THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER
THE FOURTEENTH CHAPTER
THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER
THE SIXTEENTH CHAPTER
THE SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER
THE EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER
THE NINETEENTH CHAPTER
THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER
THE FINAL CHAPTER
THE EPILOGUE
THE EPIC OF THROUGH THE MIRROR POND
THE BURROW SONG OF THE END
FOR LEON.
 
 
 
 


THE PROLOGUE
T he unnatural mist hung cold and wet. It had appeared suddenly, almost as if by magic, and completely shrouded the summer morning landscape in a dismal melancholy that warned everyone to stay indoors. Outside, a lone figure stood in the clammy gloom by the side of an old, deserted country road. The stranger, dark against the unnatural mist, stood motionless as though waiting for something.
Several minutes passed in the muted silence of the gloomy landscape. Finally, the stranger looked down at his pocket watch before turning his gaze back to the familiar silhouette of the farmhouse that he knew so well. As a child, the stranger’s best friend had lived there. Indeed, he still lived there, along with his beautiful bride; the house had been passed down in that family for generations. A deep longing rose up within the stranger’s soul. A longing to walk up to the front door and knock, to see his old friends again, and to finally beg their forgiveness after all these years. A silent tear stained the stranger’s cheek as he remembered the past.
“Frank and Liz aren’t your friends anymore. They haven’t been for a long time! And you have no one to blame but yourself!” the stranger reminded himself as he shook his head and desperately tried to bury those weak longings before the voices in his head heard his thoughts. For now, it felt like they were sleeping, or at least not paying attention to him; for now, it seemed like he was alone, and for that he was grateful.
“Oh? What’s this? Crying? What a weak little worm!” a harsh voice reverberated through the stranger’s mind.
“Bashon! No! I … I wasn’t crying!” the stranger whispered in horror.
“ My dearest John, did you really think you were alone? You should know by now, my sweet, that you are never alone!” a second voice echoed through his head.
“No, Aeriel, I didn’t think that,” John whispered aloud, his voice trembling in fear.
“Your thoughts betray you, young one, and in time we will make you pay for them. I would have thought that after all this time, you would have learned your lessons. Perhaps I was wrong and we need to revisit them to teach you yet again what your place truly is!” a third voice echoed inside John’s head.
“No, Bethiel, please, I beg you. Please do not make me go through that again!” John gasped in anguish as the images of the torture that Bethiel called his “lessons” replayed through his mind.
“What your punishment is will be determined later, for now you have work to do. If you do it well, perhaps we will be lenient.” Aeriel’s voice echoed in John’s mind.
“Yes, my lady,” John replied with a shutter as he pulled an ornate mirror from the pocket of his drenched black trench coat. John held up the mirror, and just for a moment, he saw his reflection; the sunken, lifeless eyes framed by long and greasy black hair shocked him. Do I really look like that? he thought.
A moment later, the mirror went dark. In place of his reflection, John could see two ribbons of a sickly green smoke begin swirling around each other. They began to move faster and faster, and as they did so, the mirror began to lighten. Deep within the sickly green smoke, a shape began to form. Suddenly there was a flash, and then, peering through the mirror where his reflection should have been, an aged man appeared.
“Have you completed your task, young one?” the old man asked. Although his face appeared kindly, his flat voice held no warmth in it.
“My lord Zaphon, I am standing across the street from Frank and Liz’s farmhouse,” John replied.
“Good!” Zaphon cackled. “Now, place the mark that I have shown you on the gate that leads to their property; however, do not cross over onto their land. Otherwise, the enemy will be alerted. One of my agents informs me that their grandchildren will be arriving tomorrow. Your timing will be crucial, as I can only hold the portal open for a moment. Use the arts that you have been taught and send one of them through, preferably the eldest, and your task will be complete. Once my children have returned to me, you shall have your reward!”
“Yes, Lord Zaphon.” John replied, his voice numb.
With that, the image in the mirror disappeared, and John was left looking at himself again. Even the three voices in his mind were quiet. He suddenly felt tired and completely and utterly alone. All John wanted to do was run to Frank and Liz and beg their forgiveness, but that wasn’t an option anymore. There were things worse than death; this John knew quite well.
John put the mirror away and slowly walked across the old country road. He stopped at the white picket fence that stood at the edge of Frank and Liz’s property. Quietly, he knelt down and withdrew a piece of white chalk from his pocket. John traced an evil-looking sigil on the fence post. When he had finished, the sigil flashed the same sickly green color and then disappeared. John wearily stood up and began trudging away from the house. Soon the unnatural gloom enveloped him, and he disappeared from sight.

THE FIRST CHAPTER
In which … Forests were hiked; through trees oak and birch, Aiden led the way past hill and stream. A strange glade was found, solemn as church, A mystic place right out of a dream.
T he early-morning sun illuminated the guest bedroom as Aiden slowly drifted awake. Outside the open window, birds were singing. Just birds! Aiden stretched and listened to the sounds drifting into his room. He couldn’t hear a single car passing on the road. He couldn’t even hear the occasional airplane flying overhead like he could at home. No, all he could hear were the sounds of nature. It was strange to him, to only hear the arboreal symphony—strange but amazingly tranquil. Aiden closed his eyes again, felt the warmth of the sun as it fell through the window onto his skin, and just listened, enjoying not having to get up for school—or for any other reason for that matter. Aiden was on summer vacation. He and his younger brother and sister were spending the week visiting their grandparents who lived in the country, miles and miles away from where they lived in the heart of the city. At home, they could hear birds, too, sometimes, but they could also hear cars passing on the road or even on the interstate nearby. They also lived near the airport, so they could always hear planes as they were taking off or landing. At home, there seemed to be the ever-present sound of industry buzzing in the background. Here, it was different. It wasn’t that it was quieter—nature made plenty of noise herself—it just seemed more serene.
As Aiden lay there and listened, another one of his senses kicked into gear; the smell of frying bacon was drifting up from the kitchen below. Aiden’s eyes popped open. Quickly he threw the hand-stitched yellow and white quilt aside and jumped out of bed. The smell was making his mouth water and his stomach rumble, so he followed his nose out of the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, where he found his brother and sister already sitting at the table, eating.
“Good morning,” Aiden said as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He wandered over to the stove where his grandmother was frying some eggs. He gave her a hug and peered over the stove. “Breakfast smells good!”
“Aw, good morning, Aiden. I’m glad you haven’t outgrown giving your grandma hugs,” she replied as she pivoted away from the stove and returned the embrace. The children’s grandmother, whose name was Elizabeth but who the children just called Grandma, or sometimes Grandma Liz, was a hugger; it wa