King Of Souls (Book 2) by Matthew Ballard Page A

the beast’s throat. She spread open her offhand, and the staff’s head expanded. It quadrupled its size and split the rock creature’s head like a ripe watermelon.
    A million sparkling blue and silver crystal splinters fluttered downward. They settled into a dark-green thatch of heavy ferns, damp tree moss, and ankle-deep ground cover.
    The rock beast’s body tipped over like a crumbling stone tower. It crashed through the jungle canopy shaking the ground beneath Danielle’s feet. Boulder-sized obsidian tumbled from the beast’s chest and legs, rolling through the jungle underbrush.
    Danielle whirled, found an approaching rock beast, and raised her staff preparing to strike.
    “Stop! Please stop!” A shrill voice cut the air. The remaining beasts froze, standing motionless around Danielle and Keely.
    Danielle’s head snapped toward the strange voice, and she swung her staff around to intercept the intruder. The muffled voice had filtered through the dense jungle growth. “Who said that?”
    “I did,” the voice said. “Please miss, don’t destroy any more of my atter. You’ll ruin me.” A short round middle-aged man traipsed past a fern twice his size before stopping before Danielle. He stared slack-jawed, his eyes raised toward the canopy while he turned around in slow circles. “What in the name of the seven kingdoms is that?” He pointed toward a giant mahogany tree towering thirty-feet over the desert floor.
    Danielle’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? The tree?”
    “Miss, please don’t practice your witchcraft on me.” His eyes pleaded for mercy. “I’m a simple rancher, and you’re destroying my herd.”
    “You’re herd?” She glared at the curly white-haired man. “Your herd may have killed my friend!”
    “What do you expect? You trespassed on private property without a care in the world. Of course they’re going to attack. You don’t stand on a crystal atter’s head and expect to keep all your fingers and toes.”
    “A what?”
    “You sound funny,” the little man’s brow furrowed, and he cocked his head. “Where are you from?” Before Danielle could answer, he snapped his fingers, and his eyes widened in excitement. “You’re from Ladoreg aren’t you?” He scratched his chin and shook his head. “No. That’s not right. My second cousin’s from Ladoreg, and you don’t sound anything like her.”
    “Excuse me,” Danielle said.
    He pointed skyward, his face alight with excitement. “I got it! You’re from Dolade.” He clapped his hands together and grinned. “I’d bet my sweet Mary’s rock sugar on that.” He smiled with satisfaction and seemed to forget Danielle altogether.
    “Excuse me. Your pet hurt my friend, and I need to tend her wounds. Can you put those… things on a leash?” Danielle pointed toward the motionless atters.
    The short man laughed with a squeaky high-pitched tone and shook his head. “You really aren’t from around here, are you? They won’t hurt you miss….”
    “Danielle.” She paused, staring at the funny man as he studied her with great interest. “And you are?”
    The strange little man rocked backward as if struck. “Oh my. Where are my manners?” He wiped his hand on his rough burlap robe and extended his palm toward Danielle. “My name’s Roderick, but my sweet departed mother was the only person to call me by that name. My friends call me Fizzle.”
    Danielle suppressed a smile. “If you don’t mind Fizzle, I need to check on my friend Keely.”
    “She’s not dead. Not yet anyway.”
    Danielle quirked her eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘not yet’?”
    “That atter’s attack is a lot more bark than bite. Sure, it looks bad, but he only wanted to put her to sleep.”
    “It looked worse than that,” Danielle said.
    “Well, yes. But, it’s the only way he has to escape. Atter’s aren’t exactly the fastest beast in the desert.” Fizzle scratched his forehead. “But, if a proper healer doesn’t treat the