Meet Gabriela, a young woman whose life takes a wild turn on her first visit to the city when she accidentally sends Viscount Brynmor Highgate tumbling down a flight of stairs to his untimely demise. But Gabriela is no ordinary girl; she's well-versed in the necromantic arts, and she promises Brynmor that she can fix this - or at least maybe her mother can.
Joined by her eccentric knight protectorate, Lord Sebastian, they embark on a madcap journey across the bottomless Crack and through the eerie Deadvale, racing against time to reach Gabriela's home. There, her mysterious mother, Queen Venica Marwol, reluctantly agrees to lead them in a desperate quest to resurrect Brynmor. But secrets from the queen's past begin to unravel, and as Gabriela's magic teeters on the brink of failure, an unexpected connection forms between her and Brynmor, or so she thinks.
"Grave Mistakes" is a riotous tale of dark humor and heartwarming human moments. Follow Gabriela as she discovers her true identity and realizes her formidable powers in a world where the dead refuse to rest. Will she succeed in resurrecting Brynmor, or will her journey through this twisted realm end in grave mistakes of epic proportions?
Meet Gabriela, a young woman whose life takes a wild turn on her first visit to the city when she accidentally sends Viscount Brynmor Highgate tumbling down a flight of stairs to his untimely demise. But Gabriela is no ordinary girl; she's well-versed in the necromantic arts, and she promises Brynmor that she can fix this - or at least maybe her mother can.
Joined by her eccentric knight protectorate, Lord Sebastian, they embark on a madcap journey across the bottomless Crack and through the eerie Deadvale, racing against time to reach Gabriela's home. There, her mysterious mother, Queen Venica Marwol, reluctantly agrees to lead them in a desperate quest to resurrect Brynmor. But secrets from the queen's past begin to unravel, and as Gabriela's magic teeters on the brink of failure, an unexpected connection forms between her and Brynmor, or so she thinks.
"Grave Mistakes" is a riotous tale of dark humor and heartwarming human moments. Follow Gabriela as she discovers her true identity and realizes her formidable powers in a world where the dead refuse to rest. Will she succeed in resurrecting Brynmor, or will her journey through this twisted realm end in grave mistakes of epic proportions?
Gabriela held up the spoiled apple, taking in its sharp scent. Others might cringe and gag, but it reminded her of home. She glanced over her shoulder at the packed market. No one had noticed the little wave of her hand, but she knew she had to undo it. Gabriela called to the powers that responded sluggishly on this side of the Crack and waggled two fingers over the apple.
Before she could enact her will, the fruit seller turned to her, frowning and extending a hand to Gabriela. âIâll get rid of that for you. Take two on me if you donât tell anyone about it.â She winked.
âNo, thank you.â Gabriela held the mushy apple close and smiled at the vendor. âIâll find a bin and toss it for you.â
âAs you like.â The apple vendor moved to her next client, the exchange already forgotten.
Gabriela took a few steps away and lifted the apple again, breathing its fragrance deeply. She glanced up as the crowds parted for a moment, creating a path to the town square and the three riders atop their horses. The lead man, a noble by the shine of his dark, wavy hair, strong jaw, and perfect cut of his wool coat and leather riding gloves, stared directly at her, despite the hundreds of others to stare at.
Why is he staring? Did he seeâŚ
Gabriela looked down at the spoiled apple in her hands and quickly hid it behind her back to let it roll to the ground.
One of the other riders, with longer blond hair tied back in a leather strap, said something, momentarily pulling the nobleâs attention. He looked back to Gabriela once more before nudging his golden palomino into motion, and the crowd shifted to fill the space between them.
Gabriela wrung her hands and glanced across the shoppers, looking for anyone who might have noticed the exchange, but no one paid her any mind. Keeping her basket of dried herbs and fresh greens close in the crook of her elbow, she wove through the crowd, making her way to the townâs outskirts. Pulling up the hood of her vermilion riding cloak, she kept her head down, wary that each turn might leave her standing alone in front of the handsome noble with piercing eyes. She exhaled fully when she finally saw her pony and escort at the crossroads. As she approached, she glanced south to the sheer cliffs overlooking the sea and north along the well-worn road leading to every other living town in the world. Beyond her pony and guardian, a fourth path could barely be made out among the weeds and overgrowth.
âYou took quite a while, Princess,â came the hollow voice from the fine suit of leather armor. âMuch longer, and I might have risked coming in for you.â
âSorry, Lord Sebastian,â said Gabriela and busied herself with stuffing her purchases into the geldingâs saddle bags. âI couldnât find the egelberry. I had to circle the market four times before I saw it at the spice merchant right at the front.â
âI neednât remind you that we should already be on our way home. We wonât make it to the inn by nightfall if we donât leave now. Or at least very soon to now.â
Gabriela turned to him with a smirk. âWhatever would I do without your timely reminders about things you neednât remind me of?â
âClever as always,â Lord Sebastian gave a single, echoing chuckle. âHave you seen Aura?â
âNo, but sheâs always around somewhere. She must have been as overwhelmed as me in the market. Itâs not like her to miss a chance to knock things over. Just let me make sureâŚâ Gabriela compared her scribbled list beside the contents of the saddle bags. âOh, fish eyes! Ice ginger! I looked right at it and⌠Iâll just be a minute.â
Lord Sebastian creaked and shifted with unease. âNow I really must remind you, Princess. Mum will be furious if I donât return you on schedule.â
âOh pish, we both know youâve never seen my mother angry a day in my life. Twenty minutes, in and out, and weâll be on our way.â
âI doubt whoever is waiting for that ice ginger back home is so impatient that it canât wait. Mum might not let you come to town again if you annoy her.â
âFifteen minutes, in and out.â Gabriela took a single step toward the bustling market but hesitated. âYou were one of them. Do nobles ever come to a town like this?â
Lord Sebastian hummed. âI should think not. Mytara may seem a bustling metropolis by local standards, but the nobles from Vinby or the capital would see it as a backwater peasant town. Why do you ask?â
âNo reason.â Gabriela focused back on the little city. âBe right back.â
Her soft boots sounded thunderous on the worn cobbles, only drowned out by the clomp of a passing horse and the squeak of a cart.
Gabriela thought of the noble on the horse and his piercing, deliberate stare. She shivered but still smiled as she pulled her hood a little closer.
Maybe something was going on behind me. I never looked around until after he was gone. Thatâs probably it.
The merchant selling ice ginger must have been lonely. Gabriela grinned and made noncommittal noises while the vendor prattled on about harvests and what underground bugs worked best with which fertilizers before flowing into talking about a nephew with foot fungus, seeming in no rush to make change or hand over the roots. Lord Sebastianâs warnings buzzed in Gabrielaâs mind, and she finally snatched the ice ginger from the merchantâs hand with a mumbled âthanksâ and âkeep the change.â She turned quickly and ran into a solid wall of soft brown wool.
Gabriela gasped and hopped back, but a hand clad in supple leather touched her shoulder.
âDidnât mean to startle you,â said the deep voice with a twang like her mother would use when telling a story from the capital. Gabriela looked up at the nobleâs strong jaw and piercing pale gray eyes, no longer on horseback. He half smiled at her, exposing whiter and straighter teeth than she had imagined possible.
Itâs like his teeth have no personality.
She realized his hand was still on her shoulder and debated how best to remove it.
Mama always says to use your words first.
âYou didnât startle me,â Gabriela said, losing herself in those eyes like moonlight across theâ âCan I help you?â
An unseasonably chill wind blew across Gabrielaâs cheek and through the manâs hair. He pulled his hand back to brush it back into place.
âActually,â his smile broadened the slightest. âI think you could. Care to take a walk?â
Gabriela breathed in, calling the sluggish powers to come a little nearer should she need them. âIâm in a bit of a hurry, no.â
He looked genuinely hurt, and Gabriela wanted to change her answer, but Lord Sebastian would be upset, and that would be worse than harming the feelings of a random, very attractive noble. He could be the romantic lead from any of the books in her motherâs library that made her blush.
His grin returned, and though her experience in reading people was woefully lacking, Gabriela thought his look was genuine. âFive minutes,â he requested with a wink.
Twenty years of her mother ingraining warnings about the people from town, and much more the nobles from the wider world, went out the proverbial window with that wink. They could still make it to the inn tonight with another quick delay.
âFive minutes.â
âGlorious. Letâs step just around the corner, where itâs quieter,â he said, sliding his hand around her elbow, gently directing her. She instantly decided she hated the gesture. Two men standing behind him, the blond man that spoke to him on the horse and perhaps that manâs brother, shifted to let the pair pass.
Gabriela pulled the powers a little nearer still.
They stepped around an apothecaryâs shop, and the ambient noise of the market was cut in half. His hand dropped from her elbow as they continued at a stroll moving south. âAs I am sure you know,â the man started, âI am Brynmor Highgate, Marquess of Melodis.â
Gabriela did not know that but assumed all nobles introduced themselves with the assumption you should already know their story and that giving their name was a mere formality.
âGabriela,â she said, leaving off any exciting titles. âGabriela Marwol.â
âBeautiful name. Unusual name. Were you named for your mother? Grandmother?â
âNo.â
âA woman of few words. I can respect that,â he chuckled. âMysterious.â
Gabriela stopped and turned to Brynmor. âI do have somewhere to be. How can I help you, Marquess Highgate?â
âPlease, call me Brynmor. Jon, Job,â he waved at the two men trailing them. âIâll meet you at the tavern this evening.â
The men clearly disapproved of their dismissal but nodded and turned back toward the market. Brynmor gestured down the narrow alley of damp cobblestone shaded by the apartments leaning inward from two or three stories high on either side, and they continued their walk.
âIâll be quick,â said Brynmor. âMy uncle, Duke Rhys Highgate, wishes to include this area in his duchy. Mytara and the surrounding region stand alone, isolated between Melodis, the sea, and the Crack. He sent me to open a dialog about such a prospect.â
The alley opened to steep stairs leading to a lower section of Mytara. Gabriela could see over the roofs below and a sparkling view of the sea beyond. Lord Sebastian was right. By the sunâs position, they would have difficulty making it to the inn before the full moonrise. Though they didnât really have to make it that far.
Gabriela paused at the first step. âWhy me? You should go to the local queen orâŚâ She stopped to remember titles from her books. âThe mayor or city council.â
âI thought you might help me with exactly that.â Brynmor took his eyes from her to focus on smoothing the front of his wool coat. âYou see, Iâm a complete outsider here. I donât know the customs of Mytara. If I come to them with talk of annexation with implied assimilation, theyâd toss me out. Iâd return to my uncle a failure.â
âWhy would you think I could help?â Gabriela kept an eye on the sun, hoping her barely restrained annoyance would help to expedite the conversation.
âI feel a kinship to you, Gabriela.â Brynmorâs eyes drifted back to meet hers. âNot kinship. An attraction. Youâre an outsider, too.â
âWhat? How didââ
âI wouldnât ask that you help with any of the negotiations; just tell me some of what you first did when you came to Mytara.â
âWhy do you assume Iâm not from here?â
âYour clothes are a century outdated, though they fit you quite nicely. Up close, I see your eyes twinkle with intense mystery. But I first noticed your hair. Everyone in the region has straight, dark hair. Your soft curls are as pale as fresh snow.â He reached a gloved hand to touch a stray lock that lay across her cheek.
Gabriela felt her initial interest in the marquess shrivel up with the inane comparison.
A brick smashed into the cobblestone, missing them by a few feet.
Brynmor looked down at the brick, then up at the building roofs with more confusion than worry.
Not now, Aura!
âThat only got my initial attention, making you stand out in the crowd, as it were. Then I saw you perform dark magic,â he finished.
Her heart leaped to her throat. âWhat? No, thatâs absurd.â
Brynmor let out another slow chuckle, waggling his fingers over his palm, miming what she must have looked like with the apple. âYour secret is safe with me.â
Gabriela let out a puff of breath. Her mother had been clear about her remaining unnoticed in town. She had to steer the conversation away from that. âWhy do you want to blend in? Youâre a noble. You can go and do what you want.â
âMaybe so, but my uncle has put much into securing his borders. I want every advantage here. The duchy overlaps the Crystalwood Gardens, and heâs regularly fighting off the dead abominations that rise from there. If his territory included Mytara, he could close his lines right up to the Crack.â
Gabriela turned from him, looking down the twenty steps of hard, flat stone quarried from the cliffs just south of town, like most of the cityâs construction. Her mother saw little need for Gabriela to know the intricacies of politics, but she knew enough that a solid front along the Crack would soon mean a solid front beyond it. This manâs uncle, this duke, would invade her home in time. âI canât help you, Brynmor.â
He stepped in front of her, on the edge of the first step. âIâll admit, there was more. I honestly thought you could help my mission, but alsoâŚâ He pulled the glove from his right hand and traced his knuckles down her cheek. âYouâre beautiful, Gabriela.â
The power surged, and she slapped his hand away.
Time seemed to catch its breath as Brynmor stumbled backward, flailing his arms in the empty space over the steps. Gabrielaâs fingertips briefly reached the edge of his pristine woolen overcoat, only to close on air. She watched his horrified face, the piercing grey eyes suddenly vulnerable, fall away from her. Tumbling feet over neck down the steps, each impact punctuated with a crunch, he finished in an awkward pile at the bottom.
The power was no longer sluggish, now flooding through her. Without thinking, she performed the motions sheâd seen her mother do a hundred times.
Gabriella is a sweet, if little naĂŻve young woman who's been hidden away from the wide world by her mother, Queen Venica of the Deadvale. But, for the first time, she's been tasked with a quest - to head to the market town over the Crack, and fetch supplies. Everything seems to be going well, until a young nobleman notices her performing dark magic with an apple. The noble - Viscount Brynmor Highgate, Marquess of Melodis - asks Gabriella to help him with some negotiations; but when he reaches out to touch her, Gabriella pushes him away - and he falls down some incredibly steep steps to his death. Plagued by guilt, Gabriella decides she must take his corpse and ghost back to Deadvale, over the Crack, to resurrect him. What follows isn't a strange love story - it's a story of self discovery, of revelations, and of a young woman coming into her power.
Grave Mistakes is something of a paradox; the prose is distinctly modern, yet the spoken language is prosaic - bringing up images of Victorian literature. Although the novel is enjoyable, the conversations feel clunky and awkward - especially given the juxtaposition of the archaic and the modern. The language does, sort of, fit in with the period that Samland is trying to convey, but it also just makes conversations difficult to follow. It's not smooth, with it occasionally feeling overly flowery and complex; as if Samland had a medieval thesaurus thrown at him while he wrote.
Questionable conversational language aside, Grave Mistakes is full of a wonderful, morally grey and diverse cast of characters. No one is as they seem, with their motivations often being not as they would initially seem. There's substantial character growth for Gabriella and Brynmor, with each of them learning important lessons about the wider world as well as themselves.
S. A.