Bound to the Abyss
Read Bound to the Abyss Online
Authors: James Vernon
Bound to the Abyss
Book One: Into the World
James R. Vernon
jamesrvernon.com
A Three Moons Realm Novel
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Bound to the Abyss Copyright © 2014 by James R. Vernon
Cover Illustrations and Design © 2013 by Mominur Rahman
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission can be obtained by contacting the author at
ISBN: 996000611
ISBN-13: 978-0-996000611
Just a few people that deserve a special thanks.
My immediate family for supporting all of the time and effort I’ve put into this story.
My excellent beta reader, C.D. Verhoff, for helping me shake off the bad habits of a new writer. I am becoming an adequate adverb killer and plot streamliner thanks to her help.
My cover artist, Mominur Rahman, for the amazing work he creates that helps draw both my readers and myself into my world.
And certainly those that backed me in a big way to get this book whipped into shape;
Jim and Frances Vernon
James and Kim Logan
Caitlin G.
Charlie and Amy Metz
Angela Q.
Mary Elizabeth Gaige
George Windsor
James E.
Linda Aben-Kralowetz
Chapter 1
RECOVERING
Season of Warmth, 184 A.P.
A SHARP PAIN EXPLODED
in the back of Ean Sangrave’s leg, tripping him up and stopping his mad dash for safety. He stumbled forward, bounced off the side of one of the village’s small, wooden homes and landed face down in the dirt alley. The copper and silver coins he had been carrying flew from his hand, jingling as they struck each other before hitting the ground with a splat in the mud.
How did they find me so quickly
? he thought as he tried to rise. The plan had gone perfectly that morning. For once, Krane Erikson had been on the receiving end of some punishment, and Ean had been spared another horrible morning of abuse from the other eighteen-year-old and his two lackeys. He had felt so confident, in fact, that he had sent his only trusted friend away. The rock, or whatever they had hit him with, killed that thought. Footsteps squishing into the mud behind him made Ean wish Zin were around, even if his only true friend couldn’t help.
“You really thought you could get away with it, didn’t you?” Krane’s voice was like a second blow, this one filling him with dread instead of pain. “Even as educated as you should be as a healer’s apprentice, you should have realized that whatever tricks you pulled wouldn’t scare me off.”
A foot stomped down on Ean’s back, and he splayed out on the dirt. Expecting a follow-up blow, he chose to roll over onto his back, tucking in his knees to protect his body and raising his arms to protect his face. In a back alley of his village, between homes and away from the farmlands, Ean had little hope of someone coming to his aid. In his eighteen years of life, fending for himself was the only way to survive. When a few moments without an attack passed, he lowered both his arms and legs to look.
Krane stood a few paces away. His lackeys, Gall and Dansh, stood on either side of him. The thickest in size of the three, Krane tried his best to smirk down at Ean. The bandage wrapped tightly around his head took away from the boy’s attempt to look tough though. Krane’s two friends seemed nervous at least, both of their eyes were locked on Ean’s gloved hands. If Zin were still around, he could throw a stone or branch at the two of them without being seen, fooling the two superstitious bullies into really believing that the Lord of the Abyss protected Ean. He mentally cursed the decision to send Zin away as Krane took a step forward.
“You might have these dopes believing you are something special,” Krane said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the other two boys, “but I know you are too worthless for any of the gods or goddesses to waste their time on. All you are is the son to a pair of dead drunks that got what they deserved.”
Krane always tried to get a rise out of Ean by mentioning his parents, as if talking about two people he had never really known would stoke his ire. The looks of disappointment and disgust he received from most people in the village on a daily basis had dulled any feelings he had over the loss of his parents. But Krane continued to think one of these times it would get under Ean’s skin. Letting silence be his reply, Ean stared back at Krane as he moved into a sitting position.
“Luck was the only thing that saved you this morning,” Krane continued on, his frown hinting at his disappointment that his comments had yet to strike a nerve. That tile was probably loose and you saw it was about to fall off the inn roof. You just tricked me into moving underneath it so it would hit me on the way down. It wasn’t an act of one of the gods trying to protect you, especially not Ze’an.”
Ean hadn’t needed to maneuver Krane. Zin just happened to have excellent aim from where Ean had told him to wait. Their mistake was feeling confident that after the two lackeys carried Krane off, that there wouldn’t be any retaliation later that same day.
“Don’t say his name!” Gall whispered in a harsh voice. “You’ll curse us all, or at the least, get us whipped if anyone else hears you say that name.”
“Quiet, you dope!” Krane replied, spinning and pointing a finger at both boys in turn. “Bunch of superstitious fools you two are. I’ll prove it was a fluke right now.”
As Krane turned back around, Ean got to his feet. Dansh juggled a rock in one hand, eliminating the choice of flight. Bracing himself, Ean stared Krane down.
Krane was as fat as Ean was lanky, with a wide nose and dark, beady brown eyes. His clothes had the look of someone that came from outside of their village; different colors marked his shirt and pants, his boots, a dark red leather. If it wasn’t for all of the different food stains blending into the colors of his shirt, Krane might actually look imposing. The boy took a step towards Ean, but stopped as Ean raised two fists.
“Oh?” Krane replied with a laugh. “Have to defend yourself now? No god to come to your aid and drop another tile on my head? Or is that just because all of the homes around us have thatched roofs?” Turning slightly towards his companions, Krane gave a dismissive wave in Ean’s direction. “See boys, nothing to fear. He is still just a weak little—”
Krane’s words cut off as Ean’s shoulder slammed into his chest, sending both of the boys tumbling to the ground. When they stopped rolling, somehow Ean ended up on top and began raining down haphazard blows on the larger boy. Ean had never been on the offensive before and was not going to let up now while he had an advantage. Unfortunately, it was only for a few moments before his arms were seized, and he was flung off of Krane.
As soon as he hit the ground, the assault by the other two boys began. Kicks came from every direction. Ean curled up into a ball. He lashed out with a kick of his own when he could. Twice, his foot connected with something solid, but most of his kicks hit open air and he resigned himself to staying on the defensive. When the blows stopped, Ean moved his arms away from his face enough to see why.
Dansh and Gall stood on either side of him, breathing heavily and staring him down. A few paces away Krane had gotten to his feet, his hand covering his mouth. A new red stain had appeared on his shirt and sleeve. When Krane pulled his hand away from his mouth, Ean could see a large gap where two of the boy’s top teeth should have been. Despite his pain, a barking laugh escaped Ean’s lips before he could stop it. That was a mistake.
“You think this is funny, you worm?” Krane growled, spittle shooting out of the gap in his teeth. Glancing around for a moment, Krane moved over to the side of one of the houses. With an evil smirk in Ean’s direction, he reached down and picked up a thick branch from a pile of firewood. With slow deliberate steps, Krane moved towards Ean, smacking the branch in the palm of his hand.
“Alright, healer’s apprentice,” he said with a laugh that held no warmth. “Let’s see how long it takes you to recover from this.”
Ean blocked the first blow with his forearms. The pain lanced through his arms and shook his entire body. As the second blow fell, the telltale crack told him something was breaking, although at this point the pain was so intense he had no idea if it was the branch or one of his arms. As the blows continued Ean tried his best to separate his thoughts from the pain, but the sound of Krane’s laughter made it impossible. When the pain became too much, Ean happily welcomed the loss of consciousness.
***
Ean spent the next nine days recuperating in bed until he was tired of lying around feeling sorry for himself. Rising, he got dressed as quickly as his bruised and battered body would allow, then moved over to the chest at the end of his bed and started routing around in it. He pushed the odd piece of clothing and empty bottle out of the way as he searched the chest until he found his small carving knife and a few small pieces of hardened clay. It had been long enough for Zin to accomplish what he needed to do. Time to bring his only real friend back from the Abyss.
Ean gathered the materials he needed for the task at hand: a few hardened pieces of clay, a carving knife, and most important of all, the focus to carve the necessary runes onto the clay piece. With everything he needed, he sat down on the wood paneled floor, propping his back up against the side of the bed. Piling the blank, medallion-sized clay pieces next to him, he chose a round piece and picked it up with his left hand. Moving around was difficult with his right arm in the sling, but thankfully at this point, moving his hand around didn’t cause him much pain. It had been strange during his recovery to think of his scarred left arm as his more useful arm. Taking the carving knife in his left hand, Ean began the slow process of carving the summoning rune into the clay that would bring Zin, an imp from the Abyss, back to this world.
