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  TRUTHSTONE

  The TruthSeer Archives Book 1

  By Mike Shelton

  TRUTHSTONE

  Copyright © 2018 by Michael Shelton

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews. For information, please contact the author.

  ISBN: 0-9987935-3-1

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9987935-3-5

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018900579

  Salem, Oregon

  Cover Illustration by Radovan Zivkovic and Dragana Trajkovic

  https://smradagast.artstation.com/

  Map by Robert Altbauer

  www.fantasy-map.net

  For More information about Mike Shelton and his books

  www.MichaelSheltonBooks.com

  Information about the gemstones used in this book by MoonOverMountains.com

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  There are so many people that go in to writing and publishing a book. First and foremost I would like to thank my daughter Danielle who helped me out tremendously in this series by giving me guidance and direction in regards to the stones of power that you will read about. Check out her website www.MoonOverMountains.com to learn more about the stones used in this series.

  The editors at Precision Editing (Heather, Crystal, Julie, Lisa) are really amazing and continue to help me stay organized in my thoughts, give me direction and corrections when needed and make my book more polished.

  Lastly on this page, but always first in my heart is my wonderful wife, Melissa who continues to encourage, love, and support me in this wonderful endeavor of creating and writing stories!

  TruthStone is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of my imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. I alone take full responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book.

  -Mike

  BOOKS BY MIKE SHELTON

  THE GEMSTONES OF WAYLAND BOOKS:

  The TruthSeer Archives:

  TruthStone

  TruthSpell (forthcoming 2018)

  TruthSeer (forthcoming 2018)

  The Stones of Power (A prequel novella to The TruthSeer Archives forthcoming 2018)

  WESTERN CONTINENT BOOKS:

  The Cremelino Prophecy:

  The Path Of Destiny

  The Path Of Decisions

  The Path Of Peace

  The Blade and the Bow (A prequel novella to The Cremelino Prophecy)

  The Alaris Chronicles:

  The Dragon Orb

  The Dragon Rider

  The Dragon King

  Prophecy Of The Dragon (A prequel novella to The Alaris Chronicles)

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Acknowledgements

  Books By Mike Shelton

  Map

  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

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Other Books By Mike Shelton

  About the Author

  MAP

  STONES OF POWER ON WAYLAND

  TruthStone—Moldavite—Green

  IntelligenceStone—Labradorite—Blue—Kingdom of Galena

  StrengthStone—Red Jasper—Red—Kingdom of Gabor

  SpeedStone—Garnet—Orange—Kingdom of Antioch

  HearingStone—Celestite—White—Kingdom of Althea

  HealingStone—Azeztulite—Pink—Kingdom of Shema

  CHAPTER ONE

  Shaeleen took a shortcut through the marketplace of Stronghaven. It was the quickest way to the practice yard, where all the young men would be training for next week’s spring competition. Her loose, brown hair flew around her face as she turned her head to the right and left, her light blue eyes scanning the vendors. It was noon, and the crowds were thick.

  There it is, she thought. The fabric shop. She’d told her father she was going there to pick up something for her mother. That was a ruse—the only way she’d have been allowed to go from the merchants’ quarter to anywhere near the practice yards.

  All of a sudden, the aroma of freshly baked sweets filled the air, and she slowed down. Standing on tiptoe, then jumping up and down to see over the crowds, Shaeleen spied the source of this delicious smell.

  I have to have one.

  She fished in her pocket for a few coins and headed toward the bakery. It would be a quick diversion, and then she’d be off to watch her brother, Cole, practicing his sword. He was almost two years older than her own fifteen years, and though they did have similar blue eyes and upswept brows, nothing else was the same. Shaeleen had smooth brown hair, while Cole had black shaggy hair. She was short and thin, but he was tall and broad-shouldered. She was fun-loving and carefree, while he was more quiet and thoughtful and had an impeccable track record of doing what was right and obeying the rules: something Shaeleen found quite boring.

  But, with all their differences, she loved Cole fiercely and looked up to him. It was she that had talked him into competing this year, which he would’ve never done on his own.

  She stuffed the newly purchased sweet roll into her mouth. Then Shaeleen licked the last of the sweetness off her fingers and began to walk with quick steps out of the marketplace. She only had a short time before her father would be expecting her back home. He kept a tight rein on her activities.

  As Shaeleen reached the edge of the crowd, an old, wrinkled woman with a gray hood over her hair almost knocked Shaeleen down. The woman fell to the dirt in front of her, and as she leaned down to help the woman, Shaeleen glanced around, trying to figure out where the woman had come from.

  “Are you hurt?” Shaeleen asked, kneeling beside the elderly woman.

  The woman shook her head and peered up at Shaeleen, her hood sliding back off her hair. Shaeleen gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

  “Don’t be afraid,” the woman said in a quiet voice. Her long, white hair hung straight around her slender face, and she peered hard at Shaeleen. But it was the woman’s upswept ears and pale blue eyes—a similar eye color to her own and her brother’s—that clued Shaeleen in on the woman’s heritage. A heritage that Shaeleen had always wondered if she and her brother shared with those from Verlyn—though mixed and weak it would have to have been. Only her eye color was similar to the woman’s, but that was enough to stick out in a nation with predominately brown and green eyes.

  The woman was obviously not from the kingdom of Gelena but from Verlyn, an island off the southeast coast of the continent of Wayland. An island where the descendants of elves lived and, if believed, where the magic in Wayland had originated.

  Shaeleen’s heart pounded. She’d seen the people of Verlyn from a distance before, but they were usually aloof. The woman’s face held wrinkles that had been chiseled into her delicate features over many years. She lifted up a gnarled hand toward Shaeleen’s cheek, and it t
ook all Shaeleen’s will to not move away.

  “What are you doing in the market today, my dear?” the old woman asked, stopping her hand just short from actually touching Shaeleen.

  “Buying cloth for my mother, ma’am,” Shaeleen said.

  As a man came running up next to them, the woman cleared her voice loudly and seemed annoyed. He moved more quickly than Shaeleen had thought should be possible. The power of speed came from Antioch, but the man didn’t look like he was from there.

  “Keeper,” the man said to the woman. His long, brown hair hung down loosely over his brown leather vest and dark green shirt. Next to his leather pants hung a silver sword, on which his hand rested. His blue eyes continued to roam the marketplace.

  “We need to leave,” he added. “They have followed us here.”

  The woman looked up at the man then returned her attention to Shaeleen. “I do not see any cloth with you, child. Are you sure that is where you were going?”

  Shaeleen blushed and felt guilty at lying, something that had lately become easy to do to her father and mother. Without admitting her guilt, she changed the subject by saying, “Let me help you up.”

  The woman brought her other hand out from behind her back and placed it in Shaeleen’s outstretched hand to accept the help. As she did so, the woman pushed something into Shaeleen’s palm.

  Once standing, the woman brought Shaeleen’s hands together, wrapping both of her own wrinkled hands around Shaeleen’s, squeezing them tight around the object. A soft, green light appeared around the edges of their hands, and something strange and peculiar raced through Shaeleen’s body, increasing her heart rate and stimulating her mind.

  “What are you doing?” Shaeleen said as she tried to pull her hands free. But the woman held strong and looked Shaeleen in the eye.

  “Take it,” she said, her voice hoarse and low. “You are the one to save all the stones. Their magic is fading. You have been prophesied.”

  The man with the sword moved to grab the old woman’s elbow. “Keeper Melindra, we must leave!”

  Melindra turned to the man. “We have a few more moments, Galen. You just watch out for trouble.”

  Shaeleen couldn’t follow what was going on. What had the man called the woman again?

  A keeper!

  The only keeper Shaeleen knew about was the keeper of stones from her history books. Shaking her head, she couldn’t believe this crazy woman was one of those keepers. But the woman was from Verlyn, so something was going on that Shaeleen couldn’t quite figure out.

  A sound in the crowd alerted Shaeleen, and she turned to look. Through the swarming shoppers in the marketplace, she saw three men approaching. They had the same slender builds and facial features as Melindra and Galen. Shaeleen had never seen so many from Verlyn traveling together before.

  The three men were turning their heads from left to right, glancing down each row of vendors, searching for something—or someone. Shaeleen took a step back as she realized they must be searching for Melindra.

  The old woman followed Shaeleen’s eyes and then seemed to stiffen. “Go,” she croaked. “Don’t let them see you.”

  “But…” Shaeleen tried to speak. Then she felt something in her hand. She had almost forgotten that the woman had given her something. She slowly opened her fingers and found herself looking at a small, green stone. It was beautiful and sparkled in the sunlight, holding her transfixed for a moment. This couldn’t be what she thought it was. That wasn’t possible.

  She turned, to give it back to the woman, for she couldn’t accept such a gift, especially from a stranger. But, by the size of it—a little smaller than a chicken egg—she’d guess that her entire family could live forever on its worth, and its value was worth much more than gold or silver if it was indeed what she thought it was. Shaeleen’s mind raced momentarily with the possibilities of wealth it would bring if she could sell it.

  But she finally shoved the stone back toward the woman. The old woman pushed Shaeleen’s hand away.

  “It is yours now, but not for the riches.”

  How could the woman know what I had been thinking?

  “I…” Shaeleen tried to speak but felt a tightening of her chest.

  “Don’t deny it, child,” Melindra said sternly. “Those types of thoughts will only cause you pain.”

  This is crazy. Why did she give me this gemstone? This is…

  “Moldavite, a TruthStone,” Shaeleen whispered.

  “Hush, child. You don’t want people hearing that, do you?”

  All Shaeleen could do was shake her head. Once again she asked herself, Why is the keeper giving me a TruthStone? Only one TruthStone was given to each kingdom—over two hundred years ago. How could there be another?

  “What is your name, child?” the woman asked.

  “Shaeleen,” she said, glancing from the stone to Melindra and then over at the approaching men once more. They were closing in but still hadn’t seen Melindra. And they would be upon them in less than a minute.

  “Well, Shaeleen, you now have a life ahead of you that you had never supposed. Be careful. Be true. And don’t doubt yourself. Kings and queens will clamor for your attention, and lords and ladies will want to be your friends. You will know the ones to trust.”

  Shaeleen shook her head. No. No. The nobility paid her little attention. She was only the daughter of a carpenter, a father she loved dearly, but one that surely wasn’t a lord. Glancing into Melindra’s eyes confirmed the truth to her: it was a TruthStone she held in her hand.

  “How?” Shaeleen whispered out loud. Then she covered her mouth. The three men were only a dozen feet away by now. If they turned their heads only slightly, they would see Melindra and Shaeleen.

  “Go!” Melindra said. “Go quickly, and keep it hidden for now. You must also gather what is left of the others.” Melindra then pulled a small package out of her dress pocket and shoved it into Shaeleen’s other hand. “These men would kill you for the truths you now hold.”

  Once again Shaeleen knew Melindra spoke the truth. She turned around and took a few steps into the crowd, away from Melindra and her guard, Galen. Before she could disappear into the crowd, Shaeleen turned back and watched as one of the men grabbed Melindra.

  “Where is the package, Melindra?” she heard one of the men ask as he roughly checked for it on Melindra’s body. A small wisp of blackness seemed to hover over the man’s hand.

  “It is gone,” Melindra said without looking in Shaeleen’s direction.

  The other two men spread out into the crowd, looking for what Melindra had just given to her. For once Shaeleen was glad she was short. She peered back through the crowd, and as a woman and her son moved to the side, Shaeleen caught Melindra’s eye one last time. Her look seemed to hold compassion and understanding. Then she twitched her head, ever so vaguely, as if telling Shaeleen to run.

  And so she did. Crouching low, Shaeleen ran through the marketplace crowd as fast as her young legs would carry her. Holding up her skirt with one hand and holding the gemstone and small package in the other, Shaeleen swerved in and out between merchants and shoppers alike. As she did so, she overheard snippets of their conversations.

  “I’ll give you two silvers for that,” a shopper said to a vendor. “It’s all I have.”

  Shaeleen was hit by a gut-wrenching pain, and she knew the shopper was lying.

  “This fruit was just picked yesterday,” another vendor said. “It’s as fresh as can be.”

  Once again Shaeleen recognized the lie.

  What’s happening to me? Tears filled her eyes, and her breathing quickened, for she didn’t want to know when other people were lying or not.

  She finally emerged from the marketplace and found herself in a twisting alley between two old stone buildings, just outside of the practice yard. She stopped to catch her breath.

  Putting the gemstone in a pocket of her blue, homespun dress, she gazed down at the package, barely the size of her hand, a dirty
brown cloth tied around something harder inside. She turned it over and around a few times, moving her hands around the bundle. It felt like a book.

  Shaeleen heard the sounds of raised voices and clashing steel from the practice yard and took a few steps in that direction. Glancing behind herself, to make sure no one was following, she put the package in a large pocket along with the stone. She felt bad for leaving Melindra like she had, but the woman had been insistent.

  She continued walking with quick steps toward the practice yard. Maybe she wasn’t too late to see her brother practicing. As she moved ahead, she slid her hand into the large pocket and felt the gemstone once again. It was cool to her touch.

  A TruthStone? How could it be?

  CHAPTER TWO

  A short time later, Shaeleen climbed up the stone steps to a little-used balcony overlooking the practice yard outside of the castle gates. Nobles and commoners alike were practicing today in preparation for the upcoming tournament.

  Holding her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun, Shaeleen scanned the yard for her brother. Finally, she spotted him toward the back. He was sparring with another young man, who seemed about his same age and height, but with much finer clothes on. Both had dark hair, though Cole’s was a bit longer and shaggier.

  The yard held about fifty young men, with a few older gentlemen walking amongst them and giving them pointers. One older man stood with his arms crossed as he watched Shaeleen’s brother sparring. The older man was nodding his head in approval, but Shaeleen didn’t know if it was for her brother or for the one he was sparring with.

  Both were of equal talent, it seemed, which said a lot for the other young man, as Cole at only seventeen had a natural affinity for weapons of all kinds. The two seemed to be moving in a similar fashion, as if calculating each other’s next move before it was taken, but at a speed of thinking that was astonishing to Shaeleen. Back and forth they dueled, faster and faster, turning this way and that. Up high, down low. Sweat poured down the two young men’s faces.