Can a small hero defeat a giant villain?
Lonely, winged girl Nowait flees her homeland and lands by magic in Walwyn. Hybrid sorcerer and mortal, she is used to being hunted or shunned. Here she finds people she trustsâeven lovesâSeer Tannys and crown prince Niko. But with friendship comes great danger...
Walwyn is also imperilled. Berlotan rogues from Nowaitâs world threaten invasion. Guilt-stricken, she pledges to help defend the realm. But Nikoâs murderous cousin Mad Minaleus has escaped prison and captures Nowait to trap the prince. Facing a terrible fate, Nowait loses hope that her allies will save her... Is she destined to fight all her battles alone?
Sensing Nowaitâs plight, the Seer sets off with Niko to find her, but on the way another vision descends, worse than anyone could imagine: a monster from ancient myth has somehow freed itself, and is coming for Walwyn...
But all monsters have a weak spot. And heroes come in many forms...
Can a small hero defeat a giant villain?
Lonely, winged girl Nowait flees her homeland and lands by magic in Walwyn. Hybrid sorcerer and mortal, she is used to being hunted or shunned. Here she finds people she trustsâeven lovesâSeer Tannys and crown prince Niko. But with friendship comes great danger...
Walwyn is also imperilled. Berlotan rogues from Nowaitâs world threaten invasion. Guilt-stricken, she pledges to help defend the realm. But Nikoâs murderous cousin Mad Minaleus has escaped prison and captures Nowait to trap the prince. Facing a terrible fate, Nowait loses hope that her allies will save her... Is she destined to fight all her battles alone?
Sensing Nowaitâs plight, the Seer sets off with Niko to find her, but on the way another vision descends, worse than anyone could imagine: a monster from ancient myth has somehow freed itself, and is coming for Walwyn...
But all monsters have a weak spot. And heroes come in many forms...
PROLOGUE
She hovered above the falls, unseen, watching the beautiful young man bathe. But sometimes, she dropped so low that the spray covered her face and her half-parted lips in a fine mist. She was glad of the water; it cooled her burning cheeks.
He couldnât see her, of course. But still she felt, instinctivelyâthough no one had ever told her so, how could they? âthat it was wrong. Wrong to watch this splendid creature splash and laugh to himself in this pool by the waterfall. Her waterfall, until a short time ago, anyway. Then he had discovered it also and had begun coming here in secret, leaving his magnificent horse tethered in the glade.Â
Her wings were becoming tired, so she perched upon a flat rock. Watched, aching with admiration, as he plunged into the green pool; waited anxiously until he resurfaced, his long hair plastered back against his skull. Later his hair would float in the summer breeze as he lay back against the sun-warmed grass, closing his eyes in the way of a weary child. It would dry in rich brown waves that she longed to, but dared not, touch.
She sighed, and he turned his head in the direction of the falls. His grey eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head to one side, listening.Â
Like a wary animal, she thought. Then he turned away, sluicing the icy water over his face, gulping it noisily from his cupped hands; and she breathed again, disappointed, and relieved at the same time.Â
What if he did see her? Would he utter the same startled cry she had heard each time someone else had first laid eyes upon her? Perhaps he would shake his head in disbelief and turn away, muttering an incantation against demons, as one coral-robed priest had done? Or, infinitely worse, would he lunge forward in a sudden movement, and try to seize her wings?
Why did they do that? Didnât they know how horrid it felt? Especially when they grasped at her feathers with their hard, hurtful hands. It was as if they loved and hated her wings at the same time.
She resettled herself on the slippery rock. Her haunches burned from crouching so long, and her bare feet were numb with cold. Shifting, she glimpsed herself in the corner of the pool behind the rock.Â
She had gazed into this pool many times, trying to see what the others saw. Beholding, as always, the cloud of black hair, in curls so fine they seemed more like down; her wide-set eyesâwho knew what colour they were, in the watery reflection of the green pool? âand her chin, too pointed, thrust forward defiantly, at odds with her mouth, soft and always a little down-turned, as though she were ready to weep.
Her form, whenever she stood upright, seemed to her much like that of the ground women, except that she was so smallâthe size of one of their children. She was very brown from the sun and the wind, of course, and the ground women prized their delicate skinâat least those who could afford to stay in the shade of their stone villas. But she was no darker than one of the peasant girls whom she watched on the restless summer evenings when her loneliness was hard to bear.
If she dwelt only on her face and her sun-bronzed form with its bunched little muscles, she could pretend, almost, that she was one of them. Could dream that she walked among those maids, with the same careless laughter as they; threshing barley together, skirts tucked into their aprons, limbs flashing in the dusk.Â
She could be like them, were it not for her wings.
They were tucked in tight against her back, recovering from the long effort of hovering behind the falls. She stretched them out as she squatted, her bare toes clinging to the slimy rock. She must be patient, for he would not be here much longer, and who knew when he would come again?
The young man had finished his ablutions now and, after a few more dives in and out of the water that were pure frolic, he stepped reluctantly out of the pool and walked back to where his clothes lay in the dappled sunshine at the edge of the glade. He dressed in slow movements, glancing back at the pool several times; in his gaze, as always, was a baffling intensity.
It was as if he was leaving the only happiness in his life. His eyesâgrey as the clouds caught on the mountains just before the first thunderclapsâglistened as he gazed at the still green pool.
This time he looked even sadder than usual as he stood there in his black riding breeches and white shirt that was not yet buttoned across his broad young chest. So sad, she could have wept.Â
And so, before she could think to stop herself, she leapt from the rock, arms flung out, an inarticulate cry of love and pity wrenched from her lips.
His own cry of astonishment echoed off the rocks. She rose a few feet from where he stood, wings unfolding behind her. For a moment, their eyes locked. Thenâhorror-struck at what she had doneâshe turned, stretching her wings out much wider than she would have had she not been so panicked. Gasping with the effort, she flew almost straight up to the top of the trees, so that she could escape the quickest way.
He called out something to her as she flew, his voice faint. Her heart pounded in her ears and her wings beat frantically about her shoulders. But she heard it, nevertheless.
That night, she sheltered in a tall fir tree, staring out at the pinpricks of light that were appearing in the skyâs deepening dark. She was happier than she had been in a long time. As she fell asleep, she cradled two thoughts in her mind, turning them over and over like shiny stones.
The first was this: he had not tried to seize her. He was not like the others. The second was an even greater gift.
âNo! Wait!â he had called, in a rich deep voice that reverberated from her scalp to her wingtips. His first word to herâan unexpected gift she would cherish always.
Nowait. She would take it as her name.
Nowait is a winged girl from far away Miraven, who has travelled to Walwyn by the magical portals known as Shiftings. Her loneliness drives her to spy on the handsome stranger, Prince Niko, as he secretly sneaks off to bathe in some, secluded, beautiful waterfalls. When he travels to recruit the Seer, Lady Tannys, to return to the palace, Nowait follows. She soon makes friends with the old Seer, and agrees to take Niko through the Shiftings to her homeland - so that they may stave off an impending invasion. But the invasion isn't the only threat that the island Kingdom of Walwyn faces. Niko's half-mad cousin, Minaleus, currently languishing in exile, is planning a coup; more determined than ever to end the reign of the current royal family of Walwyn and take the throne for himself. Lady Tannys has also had a terrifying vision of a legendary monster that has nothing but horror in its heart. Can Nowait really be the key to Walwyn's survival? Or will she be forever doomed to live a lonely existence, always in fear?
Although Mirror of the Sea is the second book in Lepore's Magic of Miraven series - it is more than possible to read it as a stand-alone book. The events take place some years after the events of the first book in the series - Where the Moon has Been. It's a refreshing change to many other series in the fantasy genre, meaning that one can read either book, and still be able to enjoy the singular story.
Mirror of the Sea starts off strong, immediately grabbing the reader and plunging them into a world of vivid magic, courtly intrigue and heart-pounding visions. However, at times, there are issues in the narrative which need to be addressed. The writing is scrappy at times, with a few grammatical mistakes which need to rectified. There are also more than a few scenes which feel as though they've been rushed - not quite matching the flow of the rest of the narrative which can leave the reader feeling somewhat lost.
Saying that, Mirror of the Sea is a charming novel. It is beautifully written if one ignores the few lapses.
S. A