Brother Of The Dark Places Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Wruin

  In Memory Of…

  Abigail

  Endre

  Thyra

  Taka

  Aska

  Riever

  Note From The Author

  The Saga Of Riever

  About the Author

  Brothers Of The Dark Places

  Miranda Bailey

  Wruin: Brothers of the Dark Places

  By Miranda Bailey

  © 2017 by Miranda Bailey

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Wruin

  In Memory Of…

  Prologue

  1. Abigail

  2. Wruin

  3. Abigail

  4. Wruin

  5. Abigail

  6. Wruin

  7. Abigail

  8. Abigail

  9. Abigail

  10. Abigail

  11. Abigail

  12. Wruin

  Endre

  1. Thyra

  2. Thyra

  3. Endre

  4. Thyra

  5. Endre

  6. Thyra

  7. Endre

  8. Thyra

  9. Endre

  10. Thyra

  11. Endre

  Taka

  1. Taka

  2. Taka

  3. Aska

  4. Aska

  5. Taka

  6. Aska

  7. Taka

  8. Taka

  Epilogue

  Riever

  Note From The Author

  The Saga Of Riever

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  This is totally a work of fiction, with a hodgepodge of mythology thrown in. I have taken liberties with names, places, myths, and a variety of cultures that may have existed at different times. Some are only myths. I hope you enjoy the world I have only just begun to create from old legends, because there is definitely more to come.

  Miranda Bailey

  Portugal, September 2017

  Wruin

  In Memory Of…

  Our very own Doreen. You gave me the greatest gift of my life, I just hope I take care of that gift as well as you did.

  Prologue

  “Wruin? Where are you, Wruin?” The voice of the little girl broke the silence, if you considered the seeping drips of water striking the walls of the limestone cave to be silence.

  Wruin blinked his tired golden eyes before he moved his massive head, his scales fluttering as he moved. Doreen was there, looking for him again. With a great sigh, the dragon rose from his slumber, a pile of treasure tinkling as he shifted. His eyes rolled as he kicked away a golden goblet covered in emeralds and rubies. Doreen’s imagination was at work again, he noted.

  “Wruin? I know you’re there, why can’t I see you? Are you hiding? Is this a game?”

  She waved a torch around, the electric light piercing only the weakest of the darkness. No matter where she sought in the deep cavern that stretched far beyond what she could have seen, even with the light of the Sun, her dragon friend was not revealed.

  “I am here, little one, though you can no longer see me.” The sibilant whisper came from the darkness, but she sensed it only as a slight breeze against her ears.

  “My family always said you weren’t real, you know? That you were little more than my imaginary friend. Were they right?” She called out, her voice full of tears.

  “No, little one, they weren’t right. You just can’t see me anymore. You no longer believe.”

  Wruin came out of the darkness and saw her standing in the middle of the dark cavern. He knew he had slept for a long time, but the little girl he had once known was now gone. A tall young woman with long dark hair in waves down her back had taken the place of the little girl with a freckled nose and long braids; a young woman with a child of her own on the way.

  A very special child, he noted as he watched her swivel the light around in the darkness.

  “Wruin? Please! I don’t know what else to do. He’s going to find me. I can’t let that happen. Can’t you help me; can’t you take me to...the dark place?”

  Wruin’s eyes closed his face was a mask of pain. He’d have taken her a long time ago if he could have. There was no way back, not without the key, and he’d looked for it for centuries. Now, tired and old, he wanted only to be left in peace until time disappeared.

  The little girl, Doreen, was grown now, and would have to find her own way. There was little he could do to help her. Not if she’d lost her ability to believe in magic.

  “Doreen, you must go across the water. Do not come back. I will, I will do what I can.” Wruin dredged up a spark from his long silent reserves, a spark that he used to create his magic. That spark became money, and a coat lined with jewels. One of the jewels was colored with a red, white, and blue flag, but not the British flag. One of its colonies that had rebelled long ago. He knew she would see it as her answer of where to go. One final spark was used to cloak her from the man she now ran from. He would never find her, not so long as Wruin lived.

  Doreen gasped as the coat covered her shoulders with a heavy weight. She had known Wruin was about! She had known he would help her, as he always had. Before she’d met Airitech. Before he took all the magic away from her world.

  “Thank you, Wruin. I wish I could kiss your nose, one last time.” She peered into the darkness again, but could not see the massive red and green dragon that had given her a childhood like no other. He was gone from her sight, perhaps forever. He had told her it might happen one day, but she had hoped against it. Now, there was nothing she could do to bring him back. She left the cavern and Wruin watched her go.

  “Goodbye, little one. I hope you have a life of beauty and love.” With a final huff of dark grey smoke, the world’s oldest dragon went back to sleep. The world no longer needed the dragon king.

  The Dark Places would have to wait for another.

  1

  Abigail

  “Another hour and I can go home.” I sighed as I leaned against the counter of the area that served as a checkout and customer service for the farm store I worked at. “Another Sunday in southern West Virginia out of the way.”

  A car pulled into the parking lot and I stood at attention until I realized it was just the store manager. Seven hours late and obviously hung over, the tall man that could have been something, if he’d tried, came slopping into the store. And I do mean slopping.

  His coat was undone, despite the cold October air. His work boots weren’t laced and noisily slapped against his ankles as he walked. His work shirt, the button-up kind instead of the cheap t-shirt like I had to wear, was stained and he’d matched the buttons up wrong. His red beard looked like had a nest of rats living in it and his hair stuck out in every direction. At six foot two, he was tall, had a good job, and he’d once been handsome. Now, at 30 and freshly stung from a divorce, he looked down at me, that kind of look that let you know you were being looked down on.

  “I don’t want to hear it, Abigail.” He said to me as he passed by the “service” desk. Even his tone dripped disdain. At least he’d used my name today, not his normal “Big Tits” that he liked to use when there wasn’t anyone else around. I hated working with him on my own so I was thankful he was too hung over today to mess with me.

  I flipped him off as he walked by, not caring if the security cameras caught me doing it.

  He got away with a lot because the corporate headquarters was in Pennsylvania, where they’d sent him from a year ago. I’d been so pleased when he and the store sh
owed up in our little town of Windber, there weren’t many employers in the graveyard of the coalfields I’d been born to, and even fewer offered the benefits that came with the job. It didn’t take me long to figure out the many reasons why Jaime had been sent down here though.

  He wasn’t being promoted; he had been banished, stuffed out of the way as an embarrassment. He was the son of the human resources director at the main office in Pennsylvania, the headquarters of the corporation we both worked for. He was also a womanizing pig that had been caught cheating with an employee when his wife brought him lunch at the store he’d managed in some small, Pennsylvania town. When he started to drink heavily his mother had been forced to hide him from corporate eyes.

  The store employed over 20 people, ten of those were female. Eleven at one point, but one of the ladies couldn’t handle his sexual harassment campaign, a campaign he waged against all of us under the age of 30, and she’d quit. I couldn’t blame her, if Mom hadn’t been so sick, too sick for a long move; I’d have taken us both out of this place a long time ago.

  Dismissing the slob from my mind I turned back to gazing out of the window, braiding my long black hair into tiny little braids as I waited, watching with silvery eyes for anything at all to happen to keep me awake. The Sun was already going down behind the mountain just beyond the parking lot, shadows appeared and the lights came on. A car pulled in, a 80s model boat of a car, and chugged to a shuddering stop. I couldn’t see the driver; the sun hit the glass in just the right way to turn the windows opaque.

  I looked down at my watch; I still had 45 minutes of achy feet to get through before I went home. At 23, I already knew what it was like to stand for so many hours you could barely walk to your car to drive yourself home. Once you got home, you were too tired to even kick those shoes off. I knew tonight wasn’t going to be any different.

  “Why are you just sitting in your car? Either come in or go home!” I muttered the words low, watching the car.

  Maybe they were just on the phone. I turned away, pushing buttons on my cash register just to have something to do. I turned around as the doors whooshed open and saw a short, curvy lady with long dark hair come in. She kept her head low and kind of tilted to the side, a common stance around here, where women weren’t always treated the best.

  I felt sadness for her as an ache in my chest as she walked around, touching some of the western-style shirts longingly. I knew what she was thinking, even with my employee discount I couldn’t afford most of what we sold in this place. It would be nice to have something that came with tags and hadn’t sat in somebody’s closet for a year before it came to you.

  I turned back to my register as she moved out of my line of sight. I went through a pile of credit card slips, putting them in numerical order for later, when I’d have to do the same thing as I counted the register down for the day. That was the part I hated the most. The fact that some wiseass paid with $5 worth of pennies earlier meant I’d be counting for ages later. Maybe Jaime would let me close up early today?

  I sighed again because I knew he wouldn’t. He liked to push our buttons when he came in late like that. He’d make me wait ten extra minutes that I wouldn’t get paid for because he’d figured out how to get into the system and change our work times. We’d all tried to report him for it, but nothing ever came of it.

  I swear, if this wasn’t the best job in town…

  “Uh, hi. Can I buy these?” The woman had come up to the counter, a bag of candy in her hands. She’d spoken quietly, shyly, her hair covering her face.

  “Oh, sure! Sorry, I was a million miles away!” I gave her a smile and took the candy from her, my gray eyes warmed by her shyness.

  “I know what you mean. I’ve been visiting my boyfriend and got so caught up the memory of his smile, I sat out in the parking lot for ages.” Her voice was timid but a note of pride tinged it as she talked about her man.

  “Oh, does he live far away?” I paused, waiting for her answer. We weren’t busy and it was close to closing, I could offer the woman the kindness of showing interest.

  “Yeah, he’s in prison down in Virginia. It’s a long drive there and back.” Her eyes hadn’t left the counter but now her head went further down. Her chin must have been breaking her ribs she had it crammed so far into her chest!

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” No judgement from me, I know a lot of people, male and female, that ended up in prison around these parts. It happened. Some of it was just plain stupidity, some of it was greed and some of it, well some of it was just beyond belief. As a glorified cashier/customer service manager, I couldn’t really give my opinion anyway, people called in on you for the stupidest things. I’d learned that long ago too.

  “It’s okay; he’s getting out in a month. He’ll get to meet his new son finally.” Her head came up for a flash of a moment and she gave me a beatific smile before her head immediately fell back down again. I smiled back and scanned the candy.

  “Oh, well that’s good then. That’ll be $3.17 please.” I took the ten dollar bill she pulled out of her pant pocket and put it in the register before I counted up her change.

  I counted it back to her and for the first time she really looked up at me, clear in my eyes. For a second she looked like she wanted to bolt out of the door, she looked almost afraid, but then her face changed again.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked her as I used my rounded hip to shut the register. Something wasn’t right here. I stood up, trying to make myself look taller than my five foot even height. Dammit, what now?

  “I uh…” She looked back at the car she’d left in the parking lot, the parking lot that was completely dark now. I saw indecision on her face and that made me even more nervous.

  She was looking at that car like her life depended on her next choice. Fear made my fingers stiff as my eyes crawled to the camera overhead. Did she have a gun; was this the part where she robbed me? Would my mother see my death on the evening news?

  “I gave you a hundred dollar bill, not a ten. You gave me change for a ten.”

  Ah, that old scam, I thought as I braced for an argument. I hit the buttons that would open the register and pointed at the slot for tens. My fear was replaced by anger now. A scammer, great, just what I needed right now!

  “Look, honey, you gave me a ten. You see that one right there on top? That’s the one you gave me.” I looked back at her sternly, not in the mood now. My voice was stern, brooking no argument from the far more timid woman. “At least once a month one of you crazy people come in here and try this on me. If you’d given me a hundred dollar bill there’d be one in that spot, there isn’t.” I slammed the drawer shut with my hand and turned to give her another lifted eyebrow and a glare that should have made her run.

  “No, I did. I gave you a one hundred dollar bill! That’s my baby’s formula money! You’d better give it back!” She was on her own high horse now.

  I sighed and picked up the phone.

  “Fine. We’ll count the drawer down and you’ll see, there’s no hundred dollar bill in this register at all!” That was company policy when a customer insisted they’d been given the wrong change. I knew because I’d been telling the truth when I told her she wasn’t the first to try it. I’d had to count my drawer down for customers at least a dozen times now, and I’d always been right.

  “You don’t have to do that. Just give me my change!” She was looking around now like I’d just pressed a call button for the police department.

  Jaime answered the phone and from his tone I knew he’d been asleep back there. Loser!

  “Hi, Jaime. I have a lady up here swearing up and down she gave me a one hundred dollar bill. I know good and well she didn’t or it would be sitting in the slot for tens!” I didn’t look at the woman, but I could hear her all but hopping across from me and sighing as her head twisted back and forth between me and that car.

  I guessed somebody put her up to this and they were sitting in the car. Hopefully they would sta
y outside.

  “Just give it to her. I don’t have time for this right now.” His irritation came crackling down the line.

  “Uh, Jaime, that’s over $90. I’m not just going to hand that over to her! It won’t take five minutes!”

  “Look, I don’t have time for this, alright? Just give it to her and we’ll sort it out later. Or you’re fired!”

  I looked at the spot where I knew his office was in shock. Break company policy?

  “This is on you, Jaime. You hear me? When my drawer comes up short for the first time since I’ve worked here, it’s on you.” I waited for him to respond and all I got was a burp. Great.

  “Fine!” I slammed the phone down, opened the register, counted out the change from a $100, and turned to the woman.

  “I’m doing this because my manager threatened to fire me if I didn’t. I know you’re lying and you know you’re lying. Don’t ever come back in this store again. And when I get in trouble for this and have to pay for it out of my check, I hope you remember that you stole from me, not this store, but from me. If you ever see me out in public after this, you’d better cross the street because you’ve just taken food out of my dying mother’s mouth.”