Son of a Dark Wizard Read Online Free

closer.
    Bringlen patted his coat pockets for the
knife he knew he didn’t have.
    A light appeared. A bright green light. No,
it was fire. An orb of fire! It shone through the forest, casting a
green glow on the surrounding trees, giving shape to the figure of
a young man in a long dark coat.
    And then Bringlen recognized the staff. It
was Vonlock’s staff. That twisted length of iron, those spirals
wrapping the green flame. Centuries old, he’d seen it in more than
a few historic paintings.
    “Vonlock.” Bringlen said the name without
thinking.
    “No,” the figure replied, moving forward.
    No, of course not. This was a boy. Younger,
thinner, shorter. Bringlen squinted, trying to make out the face
behind the green flame. “Who are you?”
    The boy held out the staff, revealing his
face. Bringlen recognized it, but before he could recall the boy’s
name, tree branches were wrapping themselves around him, grabbing
his arms, slithering across his chest and his neck, pulling him
backward, lifting him into the air. Bringlen fought against them,
kicking and thrashing, but it was no use. The branches were under
the control of some dark spell. They held Bringlen as though they
meant to crush him. After a moment, he relaxed, caught his breath,
and looked down at the boy with the staff.
    “You?” Bringlen said. “The son?”
    “You don’t know my name?” the boy said.
    “Sorren?”
    “You helped Atlorus kill my father, yes?”
Sorren asked.
    “You’re dead,” Bringlen said. “I saw you die.
Crushed by stone.”
    “And my father?”
    Bringlen gasped for breath as the branch
around his neck tightened. “Your father?”
    “How did my father die?”
    “Please!” Bringlen cried, squirming in the
branches, trying to find some air. “Please! I can’t breathe!”
    Sorren repeated his question slowly and
calmly. “How did my father die?”
    “I don’t know! I didn’t see!”
    “You didn’t see?”
    “Atlorus killed him! He did it alone! Nobody
saw!”
    “Alone?”
    Bringlen took a moment to try to catch his
breath. He’d lost feeling in his hands and his right leg. At any
moment his bones would begin to crunch. “He went into the throne
room alone, wouldn’t let anyone else in. Said he had to face the
Dark One alone to fulfill the prophecy. Nobody saw! I swear to you,
nobody saw!”
    “So why did you trust him?” Sorren asked.
“How did you know he could defeat my father?”
    “I didn’t,” Bringlen said between gasps.
“None of us did. It was a chance, and we took it.”
    “You must’ve had some reason to believe in
him.”
    “It was Gashdane,” Bringlen said. The world
was becoming blurry.
    “Gashdane?” Sorren repeated. “Your commander?
Head of the Zolen army?”
    “He said the boy fit the prophecy. Born in
the right place on the right night. He said he’d seen proof.”
    “Where is Gashdane?”
    “He’s with the boy,” Bringlen said. “He
stayed with the boy. They took an airship to fly across
Morrowgrand.”
    “Winter’s an odd season to go exploring.”
    “The kingdom is his reward,” Bringlen said,
his voice barely above a whisper now. “Who do you think they’re
going to crown the new king?”
    Bringlen watched as Sorren turned his gaze to
the forest floor and began pacing. The branches loosened and
Bringlen took in a full breath. He head was pounding, but feeling
was returning to his hands and leg. He was too weak to struggle.
Every muscle ached.
    Sorren looked up at him. “You really haven’t
been much help.”
    “I’ve told you all I know.”
    Sorren shook his head. “But it’s not
enough.”
    “Please. Sorren. I have a child. I have a
son.”
    “An odd thing to plea.”
    “What are you going to do to me?”
    Sorren flicked his scepter to the side, and
the branches flew out from under Bringlen. Too weak to even flail
his arms and try to break his own fall, the soldier came crashing
to the ground. He slowly rolled onto his back, panting for breath.
His joints