Jeff Madison and the Nytezard of Gridmoor (Book 4)

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Jeff Madison

First edition 2023

Jeff Madison and the Nytezard of Gridmoor

ISBN 978-1-945709-27-2

Copyright © 2023 Bernice Fischer

BerniceFischer.com

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, with the prior written permission of the author.

Edited by Maya Fowler-Sutherland

Cover illustration by Darko Tomic – paganus

DISCLAIMER

All names and characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental

As the last droplet of sun surrenders its shine

and the purple coloured curtain starts to fall

When magic is but a breath away

Only then will you hear my call.

The ramblings of a dragon

Thank you to …

Darko Tomic – paganus, for the bringing the adventure to life with the magical cover.

Maya Fowler-Sutherland, for editing and polishing until the story flew like magical dust.

Andre, for inspiring me to be more than I can be and never allowing me to look back.

Angie … always peering over my shoulder as our adventure goes on and on …

1

Jeff flew through the air and landed on his back with a heavy THUD. His arms slammed onto the forest floor, making the soft green moss squish under the impact. With an OOMPF the air exploded from his lungs, and his eyes widened as a wave of pain raced through his arched back. Dazed, he stared at the sunlight that danced and flickered through the multicoloured patchwork of tree leaves. The sudden chirping of birds in the branches above sounded like peals of laughter. Pins and needles made his fingers twitch and the cool moss became damp under his fingertips. The scent of pine needles flooded the air around him.

Firetails! That was great. Did you see that speed? That was awesome. I think I almost got the hang of this, Tricket yelled, staring at his hands as if they were made of gold. He turned towards Jeff, his mouth pulled down when he saw Jeff on his back, gasping for air.

Ahh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would hit so hard that you’d get knocked right off your feet. But it was awesome wasn’t it? You look a little winded, but you’re okay? Tricket whistled when he spoke due to a rather large gap between his two front teeth.

Jeff grunted as he pushed himself up to lean on his elbow. No, I’m not okay! You were supposed to float the dust over so I can work on my defence skills, not try and kill me outright.

Jeff stretched his arm and flexed his fingers. At least nothing’s broken. Thanks a lot, Tricket! He thought.

Jeff pressed his lips together and rose to his feet. He pulled at his light green T-shirt, damp from the moss, and patted his hands on his blue jeans. He shoved his brown and sun-bleached hair off his forehead.

Although a normal human boy, Jeff was also a dream catcher, which proved to be dangerous because everyone who was remotely evil wanted to possess him and his abilities.

Not too long ago he was attacked by evil nightmare creatures called dreamons, and during the attack he was transported to another world called Torturra. While he was in this weird but wonderful world, his family was also attacked in their home town of Little Falls by another band of the dreaded dreamons. The Sandustian Elders, who ruled the magical world of Sandustian, decided it was too dangerous for the family to continue living in Little Falls. So they were all moved, including Scott the family dog, to the protection of Sandustian, a place where the magic of dreams begins.

It was important for Jeff to learn how to control his abilities and to defend himself, and so he was consequently enrolled in the Sandustian School of Warriors to start his warrior training. There he met and became friends with another new Sandustian recruit called Tricket.

Sparring with Tricket was fun except when he was on the receiving end, which seemed to be very often.

Jeff frowned at his new classmate. Tricket was about his height and had rosy cheeks, which he himself hated, but apparently the girls found it pretty cute. His silver-blond hair was spiked and he wore plain brown pants and a white shirt: very typical attire for a Sandustian warrior recruit. In his quest of becoming a warrior, Tricket wore a black cloak that trailed on the floor. The school instructors kept ordering him to pack the oversized cloak away but Tricket was adamant it was part of his warrior ‘persona.’ Unlike the active Sandustian warriors, whose eyes gleamed in various shades of purple, pending on their level of experience, Tricket’s eyes were still a light blue.

Jeff glared at his hands. Great, he thought, Tricket is already knocking me off my feet with his dust and I barely manage to bring the dust out of my own hands.

Tricket spoke, Don’t worry so much. All new recruits battle at first and besides, since we were born here, we have a natural head start. Although none of us have had all the adventures that you have had with the warriors … I mean, WOW. Rig, Madgwick, Kojo, not to mention dragons and that witch Angie? I mean, you actually know her. I would be too nervous to even talk to her.

Tricket moved back towards the tree line muttering about frogs and witches, and stumbled clumsily when he stepped on the edge of his cloak. Come on, Jeff, your turn. He bent his knees and crouched in the classic warrior defence position as they had been taught.

As Jeff faced Tricket, the hairs on his arms stood on end. He glanced at the forest and narrowed his eyes to peer though the darkness that seemed to knit the trees together. He stared unblinking for as long as he could.

What’s wrong? Tricket yelled.

Something feels odd in the forest, Jeff muttered just loud enough for Tricket to hear, but I don’t know …

Tricket rolled his eyes and let out a long loud sigh. Jeff, you’re still seeing dreamons everywhere. It’s just your imagination.

Perhaps we should practice closer to the village – we’re pretty far away, you know.

Nah – this clearing is perfect to keep our practice secret, I mean we do want to beat the other recruits at the trials. Right? Come on, Tricket mumbled as he stretched his hands out waiting for Jeff’s strike.

Jeff raised his head and nodded. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on drawing his energy into a ball and lifted his hands. His hands shimmered as the dust bubbled out and spiralled into the air. With a wave of his wrist, he released the ball of energy towards Tricket. It was so slow Tricket blocked it quite easily.

Oh man, it’s so slow, why why why? Jeff yelled and shook his hands as if they had mud dripping from them.

Take it easy, Jeff, a voice said from within the trees.

Jeff spun around. He thought his cheeks were going to split from his smile when recognised Madgwick, one of the Sandustian warriors with whom he had shared many adventures. Madgwick grinned back with the crooked smile that emphasised his dimples.

Madgwick! Jeff called When did you get back? He stepped up towards the warrior, glancing over his shoulder at Tricket who was staring at Madgwick with an open mouth. Tricket lifted his hand slowly as if to wave before he dropped his arm.

Madgwick ran his fingers through his black tousled hair. He pushed the left side of his deep purple cloak over his shoulder to reveal a white shirt tucked into tan pants, and a waistcoat tied with a thin blue rope.

Jeff marvelled at how intimidating Madgwick’s deep purple eyes made him out. No wonder Tricket couldn’t get two words out, Jeff thought.

The borders and outer portals are very quiet, Jeff … almost too quiet. I was on my way back to base now when I heard the two of you sparring. How is your training going? Madgwick asked, glancing at Jeff’s hands as if his dust could reveal his progress. He raised an eyebrow at Tricket who had also moved a little closer. The young student looked like he was wearing a cloak three sizes too large; it hung to the ground like a thick, heavy theatre curtain.

Jeff shook his head when Madgwick mentioned his training. Not so good. I think.

Do not be so hard on yourself, Jeff? You just recently joined warrior school and also, with the elders having asked you not to use your dream catcher abilities, it’s only natural you’d be feeling down. Madgwick held his hands up when Jeff opened his mouth. It is just until you learn to control your dust; also I think the elders are worried the dream room could act as a beacon for the dreamons.

You mean I could lead them here? gasped Jeff. Jeepers, I didn’t think of that, but I haven’t tried to catch any dreams anyway. He stared at his hands and shrugged. As for the dust, I can feel the energy, and I can make it come out of my hands but I lack everything else ... speed, power, control and all that. Other students are way ahead of me. It sucks, Madgwick.

Madgwick twisted out of the sling of his worn brown satchel and dropped it lightly next to a rock. The soft tinkling of the glass vials betrayed the contents. Madgwick never went anywhere without his potion satchel. He flicked the other side of his long cloak behind him to free his arms completely. Yes, I noticed that, he said.

Jeff bit his lip and studied his sneakers as if they had suddenly developed bright dots; he did not want to look weak in front of Madgwick.

Tricket, go and stand by the tree line once more, Madgwick ordered with a pointed finger. He beckoned Jeff with a wave of his hand. Come, let me see if I can show you some control exercises.

With wide eyes, Jeff jogged to Madgwick’s side. His heart thumped at the thought that Madgwick was going to give him some training pointers.

Okay, descend into first attack position, Jeff, Madgwick commanded as he moved around Jeff as if he was studying his posture and position.

Jeff planted his feet a little apart and shuffled them to secure his balance on the forest floor. Brown pine needles scrunched up on either side his sneakers. He bent his knees slightly and held his hands out in the attack position.

Madgwick pushed Jeff slightly to test the strength of his position.

Other than a slight rocking motion, Jeff held firm and kept his eyes fixed on Tricket.

Madgwick nodded, causing a lock of hair to tumble onto his forehead. Good, your core is sturdy. Now, in this attack position your core holds your energy the strongest. Build your energy, like you’ve been taught … but do not let it go. Keep it under the surface of your hands. Feel it strain for release, Madgwick almost whispered into Jeff’s ear.

Jeff closed his eyes and gathered his energy. He inhaled as the feeling of warm liquid coursed through his veins, his limbs, through his entire body. He kept his energy churning and pushing, not allowing the dust to erupt from his hands.

Good, stay like that until you think your hands are about to explode. Then slowly, very slowly, release your dust into your hands but do not let it float – keep it in your palms, Madgwick instructed.

Jeff opened the gateway for the dust to escape into his hands; it was almost a relief to have the silver particles hovering over his palms, which had started to itch. The dust sparkled like diamonds in the forest sunlight.

Just like that – that is good. Now without sending your dust anywhere, I want you to make simple shapes. Weapons will come later when you have more control. Good. That’s very good Jeff.

Jeff grunted. Sweat ran down his back as he concentrated on forming the shapes Madgwick requested. He did not even try to speak.

Madgwick circled Jeff slowly and whispered, The dust is connected with you, Jeff, and will bend to your will and thoughts – be strong with your thoughts and directives and the dust will follow with strength. If you think of a floating wave, then it will do just that – float. Use a short flick motion and it will fly like a bolt as intended. So by using your wrist, a crisp flick movement will give the dust some direction and purpose. Do it now.

Jeff opened his eyes and flicked his wrists, pushing the energy out. The dust whipped away from him and raced towards Tricket like a battering ram.

Tricket’s pale blue eyes widened as he saw a wall of dust streaming towards him. He dropped to his knees and covered his head with his arms. His cloak crumpled around him.

Madgwick threw his hands into the air, sending his own magical dust to Tricket. Madgwick’s dust formed a protective barrier around Tricket mere seconds before Jeff’s dust crashed into it.

Did you see that? Jeff yelled and leaped into the air as his dust streamed back to his hands.

Very good, Jeff, all you need to do is practice and learn to control your dust. Once you have basic control, speed and power will come automatically.

Madgwick walked over to Tricket who was staring at them. Are you alright?

Tricket nodded and said in a low voice, That was just incredible. See Jeff! You do have power. He looked at Madgwick with wide eyes. Wow. I wish you were one of our teachers, Madgwick. He glanced at his own hands. I can’t wait to try that out too.

The trick is to practice until your dust takes the shape that you command, until it almost knows what you are thinking before you even think it. On the other side, you must learn all you can about your dust, what it can do or will not do. The dust is a powerful ally to the warrior – both dust and warrior must work in total synchronization to create a formidable warrior. That takes practice, endless hours of moulding of shapes and defining your dust. Once you have utter control over your thoughts and actions, your dust will become an extension of you.

A gust of wind swirled around the clearing, lightly lifting his cloak. Madgwick paused; he turned around and scanned the forest, peering at the darkness in between the trees. The forest is uneasy ... he said.

I also thought something was wrong earlier. It’s odd, Jeff whispered as he too stared at the trees.

I felt something … strange, said Madgwick. I do not like that the wind has a sudden chill to it, unusual for such a warm day. Something is not right. I am sure it is nothing to worry about but I think you should wrap it up and head back to the village. I am going to scout around."

Madgwick reached for his satchel as he spoke and slung it over his shoulder. Without a backward glance he moved into the trees and was soon out of sight.

Jeff stared after Madgwick’s receding form. The breeze swept through the clearing anew, ruffling the hair off Jeff’s forehead. He frowned and tilted his head to one side. Tricket, what do you hear? he asked suddenly.

Tricket came to stand next to Jeff and shot his chin forward as if that would help him hear better. Nothing?

Jeff scratched behind his ear. Exactly. It’s too quiet, no birds ... nothing. It’s like the forest has been deserted … or in hiding.

Tricket shrugged. Let’s each do one more before we head back. My turn, he said as he turned away.

Frowning at the trees, Jeff moved to the opposite side of the clearing, took the classic defence stance and stared at Tricket who had moved into position with closed eyes as if gathering his strength for a strike.

Tricket covered his mouth and nose with his arm, then called in a muffled voice, Blinking stardust – what is that smell? He turned in a circle as if expecting someone to come out of the forest looking sheepish and apologetic.

Jeff wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue out. A faint smell of rotten eggs floated on a breeze. That’s disgusting … reminds me of …

SNAP. The sound seemed as loud as a thunderclap, the unmistakable crack of a twig underfoot. Jeff’s head jerked back as he whirled around. There’s no way Madgwick made that noise.

The birds squawked and scattered from the trees. Jeff glanced left and right, gazing into the forest, trying to see everything at once. Then he saw them. Dreamons.

2

Crap! Dreamons. RUN Tricket! Jeff yelled.

The crashing of dreamons charging through the forest drowned out his warning. Jeff had barely taken a step when the beasts leapt over a fallen tree trunk that marked the edge of the clearing. He stumbled back as he stared at them. He lifted his chin and wiped his hands on his jeans, then opened and closed his hands, trying to summon his dust.

They skidded to a halt after a few meters, uprooting moss and making loose twigs fly into the air. The beasts stopped just behind one of their kind that seemed to tower over the others. Their black eyes looked like dark murky pits as they glared at Jeff. Dressed in black pants, the dreamons behind the leader all looked the same with red veins that raced over their bare torsos like worms crawling beneath their skin. It looked so creepy that even though Jeff had seen their veins before he had to blink a few times before he could look away. The filtered sunlight glinted off their shiny bald heads.

Jeff swallowed as he stared at the large dreamon with black veins that looked like tattoos creeping over his torso and arms. The one standing in front with black veins had to be the leader; he was the one to watch out for ... with those black veins he could kill.

Jeff glanced over his shoulder and saw that Tricket faced at least three dreamons, all bearing their teeth and holding their clenched fists front of them.

Tricket had dropped to an attack position, his cheeks red and his eyebrows drawn so low that they almost touched. He held his shimmering hands aloft.

Jeff tossed his dust into the air and blurted, Warrior in haste, warrior in haste! The dust drifted into the air before it flopped back into his hand.

The dreamons shoulders shook as they laughed at Jeff’s feeble attempt to call assistance. So we meet again and there are no warriors, dragons or witches to protect you now, the black veined dreamon sneered. His teeth looked like yellow pips of corn.

Crap. Jeff had thought they would give up trying to capture him once they knew that evil witch Zorka was dead – and that the spell she had cast on the dreamons, forcing them to do her bidding, had been automatically cancelled when she died.

Jeff swallowed a few times and said, "Zorka