Wizard's Key (The Darkwolf Saga Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Coming soon by Mitch Reinhardt

  About the Author

  Wizard’s Key

  Copyright © 2016 by Mitch Reinhardt All rights reserved.

  First Edition: 2016

  Cover and Formatting: Streetlight Graphics

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I want to thank my mom for everything. She’s always been the rock of our family and she’s the sweetest lady you could ever hope to meet. I would like to thank my childhood best friend, David H. Seibert. He’s an army veteran, firefighter, family man, and still the best man I know.

  I have to thank my writing team as well. Without these gifted professionals, this book would have never been completed. Charlotte Rains-Dixon, my mentor, sounding board, haranguer extraordinaire, and good friend throughout this writing project. Valerie Williamson, another wonderful haranguer who helped shape this book with her keen edits and advice. Glendon Haddix and the team at Streetlight Graphics for using their considerable talents to create the cover of this book.

  I want to thank the mother-daughter team of Sue and Stacey Call for taking the time to be fantastic beta readers and offer wonderful comments as well as constructive criticism. I’d also like to thank Criss Hanson, who bravely battled through an illness to beta read this manuscript and provide excellent feedback. I can’t forget to mention Svetlana Tretiakova, whose indomitable spirit and determination were an inspiration while writing this book.

  But most of all, I want to thank you, the reader. This book was written for you and I sincerely hope you find something within these pages that resonates with you and entertains you.

  Chapter One

  The Archway and the Key

  Tiptoeing came naturally to Geoff. In fact, the slight, blond teen was very adept at the “toe-heel” method when he found it necessary to sneak. He was sneaking now. His curiosity concerning the contents of a package that had been delivered to his father the previous night had been gnawing at him all day. He crept down the hall to the small den where Rosa, the housekeeper, usually sat and watched television during her break. Geoff inched his head around the corner just enough to peek in. The den was empty. He quietly continued down the hall to the kitchen, which was also empty.

  “Hello! Anyone here?” called Geoff. He waited but there was no answer. The mansion was quiet. Satisfied he had the house to himself, Geoff grinned and turned to go back down the hall. As he did, he saw a note taped on the refrigerator door. It was beside an envelope simply labelled ‘For Jane’. The note was from Rosa:

  Hola Geoff! Your mother said to let you know she is out shopping and will return by 3:00pm.

  Rosa

  Geoff crumpled the note in his hand.

  “She isn’t my mother, Rosa,” he said as he tossed it into a nearby waste basket. “She’s my stepmother.” He glanced up at the antique clock on the wall.

  “2:30,” said Geoff. “Not much time.”

  He made his way back down the hall. It ran past the living room and stopped at the foyer with a large, showy chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Beyond the foyer, leading out of the mansion, were two handmade French doors. There was also a wide staircase leading to the second floor and Geoff’s destination; his father’s study. It was his favorite room in the whole house and inside was the box filled with mysterious contents.

  What intrigued Geoff the most about the box was the perplexed look on his father’s face as he had read the label.

  “How odd,” said his father as he studied the writing. “Sending materials directly from a dig site like this just isn’t done. It’s highly illegal to smuggle artifacts out of a country. I’m surprised it arrived.”

  Now, a day later, Geoff had his chance. He was determined to see what was in the box. His heart beat fast as he grabbed the mahogany banister and hiked up the stairs. As he neared the top, a loud creak came from a step. Geoff grimaced. It was the third step from the top; he had forgotten it always made a racket. He held his breath and looked over his shoulder, once again listening for sounds of anyone in the house. Silence. If he were caught trying to sneak into his dad’s study again, he would probably be grounded for the rest of his life. After a few seconds, he allowed himself to exhale.

  Geoff climbed to the top of the stairs, then turned and listened one more time. The house was quiet.

  “Alright,” he said to himself, and he hurried to the oak door at the end of the hall. Beside the door was a small table on which stood a large, leafy tropical plant. He had seen where his father hid the key to his study over six months ago, so Geoff knew where to search. He groped around the base of the plant. The dust that had settled on it wafted upward, making him sneeze. Again he stopped and listened, but there were no sounds of approaching footsteps.

  Geoff had approximately thirty minutes before his stepmother returned. So, he resumed his search and soon felt something small and solid tucked into the moist soil. He freed the small object, a door key, from its earthy prison then quickly turned and unlocked the door to his father’s study. Geoff stepped inside and closed the door behind him, making a tiny click. He looked about the large, sunlit room until his gaze settled on an opened box that rested on his father’s desk, along with a box of surgical gloves, a large lamp, some magnifying glasses, and some delicate brushes, as well as tools for examining artifacts.

  “There it is,” said Geoff. He walked to the box and read the label.

  From: Central Carpathian Mountains Dig Site, Romania

  To: Dr. Richard Vincent, Ph.D., Archaeology

  Treemont University

  Contents: Lithic tools and materials

  Origin: Undetermined

  Geoff’s eyes lingered on the last word. Undetermined? That’s new, he thought. What was in the box?

  He removed a pair of surgical gloves from the nearby box and put them on so as not to damage any relics or leave oily fingerprints behind. As he had learned last year, fingerprints could result in his father discovering Geoff’s intrusion. Peering inside, Geoff saw several small boxes and what looked like fancy sandwich bags containing stone chips and rocks. Each item was neatly packed in the box. He picked up a bag
and held it up in the light so he could see. The earthen and stone chips were brownish-gray, and some were black. Geoff shrugged, put them back in the box, and moved on, this time picking up a small square box. A printed label said: Sedimentary Fragments. Geoff popped open the box top, revealing small bits of various rocks. Some contained tiny shining flakes of other minerals, but most looked like the dark brownish-gray chips in the plastic bag.

  Geoff replaced the cover and picked out another box. This one was narrow and rectangular. The label said: Unknown key— characteristics do not match other artifacts found in the surrounding sediment and area. Geoff’s heart beat faster.

  He opened it. Inside, wrapped in a plastic bag, was a key. It resembled a plain old skeleton key, and was encrusted in reddish-gray dirt and stone. It was nearly five inches long and slender. Geoff frowned. That’s it? It’s just an old key. He sighed and set it on the desk. As he did, he received a small shock. A tingling sensation shot from his hand up to his elbow.

  “Ouch! What was that?”

  Geoff shook his hand and looked at the nondescript key in the plastic bag. That’s weird. Static electricity, maybe, he thought. He dismissed the key and reached for another box. Hopefully a more promising one that was full of mystery. Suddenly the doorbell rang.

  Geoff looked up in horror. “Oh no,” he whispered as he quickly stuffed the small boxes back into the larger box. He yanked off his surgical gloves and raced out the door.

  “Coming!” he called out as he closed the door to his father’s study. He bounded down the steps as the doorbell rang again. When he reached the front door, Geoff looked over his shoulder. Definitely no one else here, he thought. Relieved and secure in his surroundings, he reached for the door knob.

  Geoff’s hand trembled slightly as he opened the door. If for some reason it was his father—if he had forgotten his keys or something—then it would be all over. At a minimum, his punishment would include being grounded for a couple of weeks, not getting any allowance, and doing more chores around the house. The chores were the worst part. They usually included cleaning the bathrooms and the attic, and straightening the greenhouse out back, which was always a particularly long and nasty task that included stacking pots, spreading soil, and sweeping the floor.

  He opened the door. A tall, muscular teenager with thick, dark hair was standing there. It was Sawyer Collins.

  “Hey,” he said. “Here’s your book back.”

  “Huh?” Geoff blinked and looked at the book Sawyer was holding out to him. It was his copy of T. H. White’s The Once and Future King that Sawyer had taken earlier at school. Geoff was eating lunch in the cafeteria when Sawyer and his pals, Andy Nifong and Stewart Jones, surrounded him. They were all sixteen, two years older than Geoff-and much bigger. Andy had poured his juice all over Geoff’s sandwich while Stewart tried to force a spoonful of mashed potatoes into Geoff’s mouth. Sawyer slapped the back of Geoff’s head, which brought laughter and giggles from other kids sitting nearby.

  “Huh?” said Sawyer, tilting his head and mocking him. “Seems someone ratted me out. The principal and my coach said if I didn’t return it to you pronto I’d be suspended and miss the next game. Did you rat on me?”

  Geoff took a step back. “No.”

  “Right. Whatever,” said Sawyer with disdain. “Here’s your stupid book. Take it.”

  Sawyer tossed it at Geoff, who caught it with both hands.

  Having Sawyer suddenly show up at his home upset Geoff. He felt safe when he was home. He had no idea Sawyer knew where he lived.

  “Thanks,” said Geoff. He kept his eyes on the book in his hand as he started to shut the front door.

  “Hey!” said Sawyer as he jammed his foot in the door and forced it open.

  “Is that a real suit of armor?” he asked, pointing at a shiny, bronze inlaid suit. Geoff turned and looked at the suit that had caught Sawyer’s attention.

  “Yeah. Dad won that one and the others in an auction last year. Got a good deal on them, too,” Geoff answered.

  Sawyer pushed past Geoff and entered the house. Geoff blinked at Sawyer’s nerve. He opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything. He was afraid to confront Sawyer, even in his own house. Instead he continued, “They just needed to be cleaned up some, but they’re in great condition. Dad says they’re from England.”

  Geoff felt his face become warm, and he knew he was blushing. Oh great, he thought. He was talking too much, wasn’t he? And acting like a geek. Again.

  Sawyer walked to the first suit of dark gray armor and ran his hand along the smooth, cold surface of the helmet.

  “They’re way cool. They must weigh a ton.”

  “Not really. You’d be surprised,” Geoff said as he glanced at Sawyer. “That suit is from the fourteenth century and weighs around forty-five or fifty-five pounds.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yeah,” said Geoff. “That’s less than what modern soldiers carry and it’s less than the gear a firefighter carries into a fire.”

  Geoff watched as Sawyer moved to the next suit of armor in the entry, a black, decorative suit with intricate engravings covering it entirely.

  “I bet it took a long time to make a full suit of armor,” mused Sawyer as he ran his fingertips over the engravings.

  “Probably,” said Geoff. “There weren’t many deadlines recorded by armorers in the Middle Ages, so we can’t say for sure.”

  “You really know all about this kind of stuff, huh?”

  “I guess,” said Geoff.

  Sawyer looked around the living room and foyer. “Your house looks like a museum,” he said. Geoff followed Sawyer’s gaze. “Yeah,” he said. “Dad always brings cool old stuff home to study.” Geoff saw Sawyer notice a sword hanging over a round shield on the wall and walk over to it. Without asking he took it down and swung it back and forth a few times. Geoff held up his hand and opened his mouth. Geez, he’s rude! Wish he wouldn’t handle stuff. What if he breaks something?

  Sawyer’s size intimidated Geoff, so he thought the best policy for the moment was to let Sawyer handle the sword with a simple plea. “Just please be careful,” he said.

  “I thought it’d be heavier,” Sawyer said as he looked at the blade.

  “Most one-handed swords weighed around ten or fifteen pounds.”

  Sawyer slid the sword back in its resting place on the wall and walked into the living room. Geoff tried to think of something to say that Sawyer would think was cool, but he swallowed and remained silent.

  “Now this is a helmet,” said Sawyer as he picked up a shining conical helm and placed it on his head. The helm had a metal bar that extended over his nose and down to his chin. It was several sizes too large and wobbled around as Sawyer tried to steady it. He looked like a bobblehead doll with the helm wriggling back and forth on his head.

  “It’s a Viking helmet from Scandinavia,” said Geoff with a chuckle. Sawyer took it off and looked at it again.

  “No way,” he said. “Where are the horns?”

  “They didn’t usually have horns on their helmets.”

  “Geez, who wore this, Bigfoot?” asked Sawyer.

  He set the helmet down. “This is so awesome. Your house rocks.”

  Geoff looked around the room. It occurred to him that most homes didn’t have suits of armor in the foyer or authentic swords and shields hanging on the walls. When people see this stuff for the first time they may be impressed, he thought.

  “Dad’s been bringing stuff home for as long as I can remember.”

  Sawyer nodded and sighed. “You must have the coolest dad ever.”

  “He’s all right, I guess,” said Geoff, gaining confidence. “Mom doesn’t like him bringing all this stuff home. She says it’s junk.”

  Sawyer ran his finger along the crest of th
e cone-shaped helmet. “Yeah? Does your mom get mad at him a lot?”

  “Actually,” said Geoff, “she’s my stepmom. My real mom died a couple years ago. My stepmom isn’t around much. Neither is dad.” Geoff’s eyes wandered to the floor and his face again became flushed. He had never shared that with anyone before and he wished he could take his last remark back.

  “You’re lucky. My parents can’t be in the same room with each other because they fight all the time.”

  Geoff swallowed again. This was awkward. He wanted to change the subject. An idea suddenly occurred to him. He turned to Sawyer.

  “Wanna see some other cool stuff my dad has? Some of it he even found himself while he was digging in Europe.”

  “Yeah, okay,” said Sawyer. “Why not?”

  Geoff led Sawyer up the wide staircase, then they turned right and continued down a hall. At the end of the hall was the door Geoff had closed minutes earlier. Geoff stopped at the door. Should he really do this? If Sawyer broke anything then he would be in so much trouble. But maybe Sawyer will like him better if he sees what’s in here. Geoff pushed the door open and they entered.

  He smiled and watched as Sawyer’s jaw dropped as he looked around the room. Sunlight filtered through the windows and revealed stacks of boxes and crates all around the room.

  Geoff watched Sawyer’s eyes wander to several partially reconstructed suits of armor, along with a wide array of utensils, statues, weapons, and wooden carvings displayed throughout the room. The entire wall opposite the windows was one giant bookshelf full of books. Geoff stood on the plush carpeting and watched Sawyer wander back and forth, unable to focus on any one object.

  “Oh wow…,” said Sawyer.

  Geoff again smiled at Sawyer’s amazed reaction to his father’s study. “This is incredible,” said Sawyer as he walked into the jungle of crates and relics.