The Rogue Wizard (The Trials of Midnight Book 2)

Rogue Wizard

Fear spreads across three kingdoms as smuggling rings tighten their grip and crops begin to fail. All signs point to Fargo—the rogue wizard who once slipped through capture and has been quietly laying the groundwork for something far more dangerous.

In Asthania, Midnight, wood wizard and forest guardian, uncovers evidence of sabotage buried deep within the land itself. Salt poisons fields, gardens wither, and even carefully balanced magic begins to falter. When an attempt to restore the crops unleashes a violent elemental storm, Prince Rudolfus is forced to step out from the shadow of his reputation and confront a crisis that tests both his courage and his judgment.

Far away in Carrador, Jayhan—the pale-eyed mage living beneath layers of disguise—hunts the same enemy from the margins of society. As unrest spreads and animal attacks drive fear into rural communities, his path converges with Midnight’s. Together, they discover that predators are not acting by chance. Something vast and unnatural is driving creatures from their territories and twisting the balance of the elements.

As loyalties shift and the earth itself begins to tremble, the threat reaches beyond sabotage and political intrigue. Fargo’s influence stretches south toward Kimora, where power, prophecy, and volcanic unrest hint at a reckoning that could reshape the kingdoms.

Rogue Wizard is the second book in The Trials of Midnight series by Jennifer Ealey—an epic fantasy rich with elemental magic, courtly tension, and the quiet resilience of those who guard the natural world. Deepening the scope and danger of the series, this installment explores the cost of power, the strength found in unlikely alliances, and the warnings written into the land itself.

Continue the journey with Rogue Wizard and return to a world where magic remembers every wrong—and courage must rise to meet what is coming.

Excerpt from the book

With official introductions over, the crowd began to mill about, murmuring amongst themselves about these hitherto unknown woodfolk members of the royal family. The rest of the evening passed in a whirl of colour and faces for the woodfolk. People crowded in to meet these strange new people whenever they had the chance. Sparrow made sure she stood close to Midnight at all times so that she could interpret for him.

Well before the end of the evening, the woodfolk were feeling overwhelmed by the myriad unfamiliar sights of women dressed in sumptuous ballgowns and men dressed in elaborate leggings and surcoats in reds, oranges, greens, blues, yellows and purples. All were far brighter and more embellished than anything they had ever seen. Gold and silver jewellery, studded with green, purple, red and blue gems, adorned necks, ears and fingers. Coming from a culture which prided itself on its ability to blend in and hide, the woodfolk were dazzled by the flamboyance of the people around them.

Midnight, even more than the others, was exhausted. It took added effort to lip-read and to try to predict which speaker to look at. He was also carrying the added burden of trying to live up to Prince Tarkyn’s expectations of him as a fellow forest guardian.

At the sight of the dark circles under Midnight’s glazed eyes, Prince Tarkyn, High Lord of Eskuzor, and Harkell, General of the South, corralled him, accompanying him out of the Great Hall and up the staircase into a corridor soothingly bereft of all but a few footmen. Tarkyn directed him into one of the more modest bedrooms, knowing Midnight would still find it too ornate and too large for one person.

“Are you happy to stay here for the night?” asked Tarkyn.

Midnight was so tired he merely shrugged, gazing around the room with a dazed expression on his face. Tarkyn and Harkell shepherded him to the bed and pushed gently from behind. Without demur, Midnight toppled forward onto the plush covers of the four-poster bed and barely had the energy to give them a feeble wave of thanks before succumbing to sleep.

Harkell pulled the woodman’s boots off and straightened his torso on the bed. Then he folded the other half of the covers over Midnight and stepped back.

He smiled wryly at Tarkyn. “I think our brave young woodman has reached the end of his tether. We had better rescue the rest of them soon.”

Tarkyn nodded. “I can’t begin to imagine how bright and loud and confusing it must seem to them after the peace of the forest. I’ll check with the housekeeper that rooms have been prepared for them.”

But when he returned to the ballroom, Lapping Water came to greet him. “Tarkyn, we have had enough. It has been amazing, literally amazing, but we need to go. Is it all right if we just leave?”

“We have rooms prepared for you,” he said, suddenly knowing that they weren’t planning to stay to use them.