Free The Legend of Vanx Malic: Book 02 - Dragon Isle by M. R. Mathias Page B

leather-bound book: some general’s memoirs or something. The rest of the display spaces were empty, save for a rack hanging on the wall holding a wooden flint-tipped spear.
    “Hah!” Coll caught himself saying rather loudly. Rock, wood, water, and most other naturally occurring substances could penetrate some magical protective fields. A magical barrier formed to protect one from flying arrows and such had to be cast differently from other protective barriers. If Quazar hadn’t gone through the extra motions and offered up the components needed to make the shield impervious to objects such as a spear shaft, he might be able to knock the pillow off the pedestal, or at least separate the stone from the pillow.
    With a devious grin, he glanced at the crackling field of energy hovering around the top of the pedestal. The marble dais wasn’t activating the spell and yet the field was passing through it.
    Coll laughed then. He hadn’t thrown a spear in years, then only as a glory-dreaming boy, but he figured he could hit the pillow and knock the Blood Stone from it without much trouble. Without another thought he snatched the spear from the wall. The second it was in his hands he knew his mistake.
    The world around Coll grew hazy and the air became thick like mud. His lungs labored to pull in one last breath as his every living fiber was quickly turned to stone. From deep inside him a primal surge rose up quickly, but the evil force wasn’t fast enough. The rush of malevolence and brimstone was trapped in the statue Coll had become.

    “I cannot let you past,” the dungeon master persisted nervously. Denying the will of one of Parydon’s nobles wasn’t something he had to do often, but Duke Elmont and his crazy old wizard had personally come to give him the order. They had specifically pointed out that Duke Martin wasn’t to be allowed into the dungeons.
    “I’ll have your head, man,” Duke Martin snapped. “I only want to see the one-handed whore who came in a few days ago.” He smiled a conspiratorial smile. “She has a few talents you might like to be aware of.”
    “I’m sorry, my lord.” The guard wiped a swath of sweat from his forehead with his arm. “Duke Elmont specifically said that you were not allowed down here.”
    “And Duke Elmont is what? A duke of this realm?”
    “Yes, my lord,” the guard answered with a gulp.
    “Am I not also a duke of the realm? You are but a simple gaoler. Did you not swear to follow the orders of your superiors?”
    “Yes I did, my lord.”
    “Then you will let me pass, for my order holds as much weight as Duke Elmont’s.” He started to shoulder past the dungeon master but was surprised when the man moved to block his way.
    “No, my lord.” The gaoler gulped again. “I swore an oath to Duke Elmont, not to you. As long as he fills my pockets I will do as he says.”
    “So it is coins you want, then?”
    “No, my lord. I want you to go about your business or I will have to report this.”
    “You will have to…” Duke Martin’s protest was cut off by the screeching of the steel-hinged door behind him.
    “Humbrick, if you go back there I will lock you in and keep you down here until the king arrives.”
    Duke Martin knew Duke Elmont’s voice and scrunched his face up in annoyance. “What is going on here, Elly? Am I a common prisoner now?”
    “You’ve been a prisoner since you came to Dyntalla, you old fool,” Duke Elmont snapped. “I received a bird from your wife saying, among other things, that you’d gone off to find your daughter, yet you’re here and you haven’t even mentioned her once. Atop that you haven’t bothered to try to comfort her mother by sending a message. Your commander was poisoned and that advisor who follows you around has gone missing. Do you think those facts wouldn’t raise suspicions? By the gods, man, you’re accused of conspiring to murder an entire caravan of innocent people over a single man’s actions. Now I