9789147150243

MAGESMITH, BO AND EG

ISBN 978-91-47-15024-3

© 2023 Coombs Andy, Scho Sarah och Liber AB

REDAKTION Maria Jones

FORMGIVARE Lotta Rennéus

ILLUSTRATION OCH OMSLAG Sarah Scho

PROJEKTLEDARE Emilie Szakàl

Första upplagan

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REPRO Repro 8 AB, Stockholm

TRYCK People Printing, Kina 2023

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Prologue

The Death of Vidar Eldsten

The man in the streaked and dented armor runs, stumbling in the dark. Trees shriek with wind, urging him on, deeper into the forest. It’s raining.

Is his friend still alive?

He stops. He turns. Through the trees he sees his friend running, fire exploding at his feet. The monster must be close. His friend’s mouth opens, and he hears the sound a moment later.

“Run!”

His helmet is lost, and sheets of ice water sting his skin and fill his eyes. His breathing, short fiery bursts. Mud sucks at his metal boots, slowing him. A branch lashes across his face. He falls heavily, landing on his right hand, breaking the wrist with a loud crack. Using his other hand, he pushes to his feet, the sharp pain from his snapped bone dulled by fear. He must be quicker. His strength will soon fail. But not yet. Please, not yet.

White fire blossoms around him, blinding him, and again he falls. He rolls, slides through wet mud, and comes to rest on his back.

He cannot get up. It doesn’t matter. The chase is over. He is here. And so is the monster.

A smile touches his split lips.

Rain dances on his numbed face. A long breath. Now it can end. He looks up into the dark eyes of the monster. Its mouth is open, and a thin line of drool stretches towards him. There is no blood on its lips. His friend must be alive. He laughs and closes his eyes, trying to see the face of his wife one last time. And then, the man, Vidar Eldsten, dies.

Balendin

Balendin pulled his horse to a stop. In the distance, through the falling rain, was Vidar Eldsten’s village. And near the village, lived the monster.

Balendin’s heart beat a powerful rhythm. His breathing was quick. His skin wet with more than rainwater. Finally! Revenge!

After fourteen years of growing stronger, fourteen years of training, studying powerful magic, building an army, and planning. Finally, he was strong enough to kill the monster. Revenge.

Balendin turned to his men.

“I know you are tired, but if you can find the strength to keep going, we can kill the monster tonight. We can free the people who live in the village. Are you with me?”

“We are with you, my lord,” called one of the soldiers.

The men cheered.

“I tell you this,” said Balendin, his eyes shining, “a man is only as great as those who follow him.”

Bodin Eldsten 2

Bodin was drowsing in her favorite tree. Little bits of sunlight scattered themselves over her body, forming leaf patterns that dissolved with the wind. She closed her eyes and let the leaf patterns merge with the reds and purples of light touching her eyelids.

Through the gentle winds, Bodin could hear grandfather in the forge preparing the day’s lesson.

Just as Bodin was crossing the line where jumbled thoughts slide into sleep, she felt a shift, like her thoughts being pulled to the left. A strange feeling, like she was rolling down a hill. She knew this shift. It was the start to one of her “Moments.” Moments were what she called the strange daydreams that had come to her for as long as she could remember.

In this Moment, Bodin could still feel the warm bark of the tree through her shirt, but there was no tree behind her. There were no trees anywhere.

Bodin was standing on gray sand that stretched endlessly around her. Her chest rose and fell, but she was not breathing. She looked up and was dazzled by the intensity of the stars. And

then there was another light, a blue light that rushed towards her over the sand. A glowing line that became a curve appeared on the horizon. Bodin thought of dawn, but this was different. The light grew stronger and a large circle of brilliant blues and greens climbed up into the darkness, banishing stars with its brilliance.

Bodin’s body tried to take in a sharp breath of air, but there was no air. There was no feeling except the warm bark. Bodin took a step forward towards the circle of light, but her legs and feet were slow. Then Bodin heard her grandfather’s voice...

“Bodin! Where are you?”

She tried to turn towards the voice but found herself rising from the gray sand. Slowly and gently, she was floating upwards.

“Bodin!” Her grandfather sounded angry.

Another shift and the gray sand and blue-green circle disappeared. Bodin opened her eyes to see the ground coming at her very quickly. She hit the grass with a thump.

“Bodin! Now!”

Bodin picked herself up and ran to the forge.

Apprentice Magesmith 3

As Bodin pushed open the rough wooden door, the warmth and smell of hot magic flowed over her. As always, when she was close to hot magic, her fingers tingled, and the top of her head started to itch. Her grandfather had his mouth open to call her again but closed it when he saw Bodin standing red-faced in the doorway.

“Come when I call you,” her grandfather said, pulling angrily on his bushy gray beard.

“Sorry Grandfather. I was having a Moment.”

“Why can’t you just call them dreams?”

“Because they are more than dreams. They feel so real. Last month, in a Moment, I was hit on the head by something. Look, I still have the bruise.” Bodin lifted her fringe to show him a little patch of yellow.

“That’s normal. Sometimes people roll over in their sleep and bang themselves. Haven’t you ever dreamt you were falling and then woken with the same feeling?”

Bodin thought of the tree. “Yes, but in my Moments, I can be falling up not down. In my Moments I…”

“That’s enough about your dreams. You have a very active imagination and that’s a good thing. But you need to learn to concentrate.”

Bodin looked over her grandfather’s shoulder to the little gold statue of her mother, Eldrid Eldsten. Her father made it just before his death.

Bodin never knew her mother or her father. Eldrid died giving birth to Bodin and her father, Vidar Eldsten, died before she was born, fighting a monster. His body had been lost. He didn’t even have a grave. The little statue was beautiful. Bodin knew that she could never match his skill. And something within her stopped her trying.

“Shall I try the leaf again?” said Bodin.

For the last couple of weeks, she had been trying to shape a silver leaf. Each time, however, the leaf looked more like a poached egg. From behind his back, her grandfather produced the little ball of silver.

“I agree,” he said smiling at her.

Bodin took the ball of silver and held it in both hands. She concentrated.

Hot magic, light blue and golden light trickled from the ends of her fingertips and into the metal. Behind her eyes she saw the tiny silver Stoft moving and spinning. She tried to reach in, to hold, but the Stoft of silver danced away.

“I can’t do it. The Stoft run away from me!”

MAGESMITH, BO AND EG

BOOK 1: BODIN’S MOMENTS

Hot magic. The source of creation. The source of power.

“Outside of Time and Space, I exist. Some call me Spell. Others call me Law.”

In the distant past, Bodin Eldsten, trainee Magesmith, struggles with a growing power inside of her. Gargoyles, Dryads and powerful wizards. Ancient magic and an apprentice sheep butcher.

Book 1 in the Magesmith series

Copyright © 2023 by Andy Coombs & Sara Scho

Published by Liber AB

All rights reserved