Book extract from Zac's Destiny: Zac finds his sword

Opening the creaky lid, Zac stared inside. His first impression was of an empty chest apart from one, long item wrapped in sacking. As he removed this however, he spotted two, smaller objects wrapped in black silk below. One eye on the other two items, Zac removed the sacking from his first find. A shiny silver pommel was revealed, emblazoned with a central stone of jet. As the rest of the wrap fell away, Zac drew out the black leather scabbard and said in awe “It’s a sword.”

            Sliding the powerful yet light weapon from the scabbard, Zac blinked and covered his eyes with his arm as a brilliant silver bolt flashed across the room from the blade. It was gone in moments, leaving the dull silver metal as if nothing had happened.

            “What was that?” Zac heard Garth ask. He was too enthralled with the sword to know if the Baron replied or not.

            “There are letters on the blade,” Zac said, puzzled.

            “What do they say?” asked Garth, coming closer.

            “Well, I’m not sure, sir,” replied the boy, feeling a little ashamed. “I’ve learned my letters to write my name and such, sir, but this word is different than I’ve ever seen. It says S…O…L,” he began to spell.

            “Solstice,” Garth said from over his shoulder. “It says, Solstice.”

            “What does it mean, sir?” Zac asked the Baron.

            “They are days in summer and winter.” the Baron replied, rubbing his beard. “The Solstices are the longest and shortest days of the year. The sword must be named after one of those days for some reason. Aldric will tell you, Zac, if, when,” he corrected, “you find him.”

            “It’s a powerful blade,” Garth said, some envy in his tone.

            “Yes, but it’s so light,” Zac replied, thrusting and parrying with the sword. “Brent only lets us use wooden swords in fencing practice.”

            All the staff were given at least some knowledge of weaponry at the Baron’s insistence. In case of an attack on the castle, everyone was expected to be able to do their part, and to protect themselves.

            “Careful now, boy,” the Baron countered when he came over for a closer look and the blade whistled past his arm.

            “Sorry, sir,” Zac said with a blush.

            “May I see it?” the Baron asked, holding out his hand.

            “Of course,” Zac said, though he handed the sword over reluctantly.

            The moment the pommel transferred from his hand to the Baron’s, the blade crashed to the stone floor sending sparks flying. Unable to bear the weight, the Baron grasped the pommel with both hands. He could still not raise the weapon.

            “Garth, help me,” he said, straining with the effort.

            With their four hands on the sword, the two men were able to lift it inches from the ground. Zac saw all this without a word. He couldn’t believe what he was watching.

            “Enough,” spoke the Baron at last. “Let it go.”

            “But,” Garth said, “might it not be damaged if it hits the floor?”

            The Baron had decided to let go, so Garth had no choice but to do the same. The clatter echoed through the whole room, and probably half way down the corridor.

            “Take your sword, Zac,” the Baron said, his hand under his chin.

            The boy bent and picked up the sword with ease. It felt light and almost a part of him. He stared at it in awe. There wasn’t any sign of damage. Not a scratch.

            “The sword is no doubt magical, my lad,” the Baron said. “It doesn’t choose to be held by anyone but you. It won’t be stolen unless you meet an ogre,” he added with a chuckle. “What else is in your box of tricks?”