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Austin Macauley Publishers - J Witte Stephen

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47 pages

English

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Fur. Cat-like ears. A long tail. A strange sight for the amnesic to see reflected in the water, to be sure.But in the realm of Uncharted Waters, that's only the start of strange, for pirates, witches, vampires and aliens are your friends, rivals, neighbours and even your roommates! And then there's the little matter of magic being a real thing...People are strange. Life is stranger. Sorcery and sci-fi tech take the cake! But altogether, it equals fun.And those who aren't ready for fun are ALL WASHED-UP!

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Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)

Fantasy

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Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers
Date de parution	30 mars 2018
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781528909594
Langue	English

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Roy Ringtail
Stephen J Witte
Austin Macauley Publishers
2018-03-30
Roy Ringtail About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgements Prologue Breaking the Seal 1 Reflections of a Marsupial 2 The Harpoon Slinger 3 The Elixir Girl 4 When Girls Attack 5 Understanding Between Friends 6 Wolfstone Cave 7 The New Ally 8 Bugsy Spillingham 9 Potions Are a Girl’s Best Friend 10 That’s the Way the Cookie Crumbles 11 Chains of Darkness 12 The Staff of Marz 13 Departure 14 The Earth Phoenix 15 A Happy Ending
About the Author
As a child, Stephen J. Witte (pronounced Witty) grew up loving many a book, with various paperbacks taking him to worlds beyond our own. As Witte grew, he developed a penchant for video games as well as books and, ultimately, aspired to combine the entertainment value of both in his own works.
Witte currently resides in Australia with his family and beloved dog, Patch. He continues to search for new inspiration sources, to further his passion for writing… and indulge his hobby of gaming.
Dedication
I dedicate this book to my family, my friends, and lovers of gaming and/or literature everywhere.
Copyright Information ©
Stephen J Witte (2018)
The right of Stephen J Witte to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781787103795 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781787103801 (E-Book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2018)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank my parents, Carol and Gerry, and my friend, Ben, for their support in making the publication of this story a reality.
I can only hope that some of my charismatic genius rubs off on you lot. Probably, shouldn’t get my hopes too high, though…
Prologue

Breaking the Seal
The Crispy Crater glowed in the light of the full moon, its superheated content shining through the immensely thick layer of magical ice that sealed the volcano shut and kept it from erupting. Not even a wisp of smoke could escape the enormous rocky cauldron. Only a light breeze stirred over its mouth, gently rustling the leaves of the palm trees that grew in the fertile volcanic soil. Nothing else moved. No animals stirred. No birds called out into the night. As the breeze died down, perpetual silence surrounded Ringtail Island’s pinnacle.
The blissful, soundless lull was broken, quite suddenly, by the crunching of boots on the gritty ground. They belonged to a girl who was dressed in a black cloak, her face hidden by her hood. Short lengths of broken, black, metal chains dangled from her wrists and left ankle, the latter chain dragging along the ground. As she approached the crater, her dark eyes settled on the faint, orange glow just ahead; her gaze filled with a lustful greed and desperate longing. She made her way to the edge of the crater and stared down into the abyss, her mouth practically watering with anticipation as she hastily produced a crudely folded-up piece of paper from her pocket. She fumbled with it before finally having its words presented to her. She grinned madly, instantly memorising the words before scrunching up the paper and tossing it away, paying it no further mind. She raised her arms and spoke into the night, her words ancient, mysterious.
“Ek du sa ki loja mehi fore. Mes lua yaho takra di eruptor volcus zow.”
As her mystical chant echoed eerily into the night air, the sheet of ice in the crater began to hiss, steam starting to come off it. It was slowly but surely melting, giving in at last to the incredibly hot temperatures mere feet below it. The girl grinned far wider than before, deranged delight spreading through her.
“It’s all coming together now,” she whispered to herself. “All my research has paid off. Everything will fall into place and become right soon.” She turned and gazed out towards the ocean, her eyes following the water from the horizon to the shores of the island, surveying the lush tropical scenery below. “Soon…”
1

Reflections of a Marsupial
“Ugh…what? Where…where am I?”
The figure sprawled out on the sand and opened his eyes, his vision slightly blurry. As it cleared, he got up and took in his surroundings.
“A beach? Well, seems peaceful enough,” he said, shrugging. “I just wish I knew what I was doing here.” He turned on the spot so he was facing the water. “I can’t remember anything. I don’t…WHOA!”
At the sight of his reflection in the water, he leapt back in shock. Looking down at himself, he found that the aquatic surface did not lie…he was most assuredly covered in fur! Yes, every inch of his bare skin was covered in snow-white fur. He had animalistic ears protruding from the top of his head and a small, pink nose, complete with whiskers, in the middle of his face, giving him a rather cat-like appearance. He was tall and skinny with messy black hair and beautiful emerald green eyes. His clothes consisted of a brown leather tunic and matching trousers. A small knife was sheathed at his waist. He could see in the water that something was producing from his lower back. He reached behind him and his hands closed around…a long, furry tail.
“A tail?!” he almost shrieked. “I’m some sort of creature with a tail?! But that’s…that’s…kind of cool, actually,” he admitted. “I wonder if I have claws.”
He looked at his hands, which were as furry as the rest of him, and flexed them, trying to make claws extend from his fingers. Nothing happened. “Hmm. No claws, it seems. Anyway, I should probably get out of here. I don’t know if the locals are accustomed to…well, whatever I’m supposed to be.”
He turned to walk inland when the waves suddenly splashed behind him. Looking back, he saw that something else had also washed up on the beach.
It was a crate, covered in seaweed and barnacles, but nonetheless intact. Curiosity getting the better of him, the furry boy soon found himself prising open the wooden box. Inside were an ordinary black T-shirt, some green shorts and a pair of sandals.
“Hmm. Are these the common garments in this area?” he wondered aloud. “Well, in any case, I like them, and if I may dust off an old chestnut…finders keepers!”
And so it was that he discarded his current garb (he decided to keep the hunting knife, though) and pulled on the clothes from the crate, making sure that his tail poked out comfortably. When that was done, he checked his reflection in the water. He looked like a typical kid in the summer, give or take his furry features.
“Oh, yes, these are perfect for me! Perfect for ol’ Roy!”
He stopped. Roy? That name had just suddenly popped into his head. He grinned.
“Yes. These garments are perfect for me and that name is not too bad either. Alrighty, then! I’ll call myself Roy from now on! Yeah…Roy. I like it a lot!”
2

The Harpoon Slinger
The figure hurried through the trees, twigs crunching beneath its feet. It trampled small plants, leapt over tree roots and swept low-hanging branches aside, its breath heavy and hollow. It already knew where its target was and was closing in. It was only a matter of time now…
Kenny bent down and gently plucked the rare herb from the ground, smiling with satisfaction, his gleaming white fangs showing. “Who says a vampire knows nothing about medicine?” he said to no one in particular as he straightened up. “Wait until Roy sees all of these.”
He placed the herb in the small sack he had brought with him, where it joined the other sixteen or so leaves, stalks and pods he had collected. The young vampire was in a good mood. He was out in the fresh, quiet night air with nobody to disturb him, he had drained a raw steak of its crimson fluid at dinner and was therefore unlikely to go into a feeding frenzy and best of all, it was just him and his prized harpoon gun, which was slung over his shoulders. He could feel its comforting weight on his back, easy to reach if needed. It was loaded, a gleaming silver projectile on a retractable rope seated neatly within. The twelve-ear-old had lovingly polished the weapon and sharpened the spear earlier that afternoon. He looked forward to using a few crates for target practice when he got back to the workshop.
A rustling sound caught his attention, faint at first, but soon getting louder and closer. Kenny slowly brought his weapon around, holding it up, his hand on the trigger. The bushes started to quiver violently and his hand shook a little, but he quickly steadied it. He wasn’t scared; he was a creature of the night, so if anyone should be scared, it was whomever or whatever was about to make itself known. No, Kenny’s hand shook because he was somewhat trigger happy – eager to fire off that first shot into the night, retract the harpoon and fire again. His perfectly white teeth and fangs were locked in a mad, devilish grin. With his generally negative outlook in place, it was moments like these that the gothic boy, dressed all in black, lived for…
Something leapt out of the bushes and Kenny instantly locked onto the target.
It was a rabbit. A harmless little white rabbit. The vampire sighed, not so much with relief as disappointment. He loved to use his gun, but knew better than to start shooting when it wasn’t necessary or safe. Well, most of the time, anyway. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt any innocent people, least of all his friends, and while rabbits were often regarded as pests, he didn’t think he could bring himself to shoot one. Not