What’s a young thief meant to do when she kinda sorta triggers the apocalypse?
On an island of sun and song, a paradise the gods are said to call home, a great storm is brewing. And at its heart is Runa, a waifish orphan who steals the one thing people guard more fiercely than gold or gemstones... Secrets.
Tormented by a past she cannot remember, Runa haunts the flower-draped terraces of Akiponahai like a ghost—an outsider with no one and nothing save the will to survive. But when she steals a secret far greater than forbidden love or whispered betrayal, she is trapped in a treacherous web of prophecy, peril, and a power terrible enough to destroy the world.
And, worse, threatens Runa herself.
What begins with a lonely outcast's struggle for survival becomes a breathtaking journey of courage, friendship, and self-discovery as Runa is forced to confront ancient myths, uncertain loyalties, and the terrifying monster who took everything from her.
Secrets of the Sky Gods is a sweeping, emotional epic for readers who crave vivid, unique worlds, convention-defying heroines, and stories that reveal the truths you didn’t know you knew.
Discover the secrets. Live the adventure.
What’s a young thief meant to do when she kinda sorta triggers the apocalypse?
On an island of sun and song, a paradise the gods are said to call home, a great storm is brewing. And at its heart is Runa, a waifish orphan who steals the one thing people guard more fiercely than gold or gemstones... Secrets.
Tormented by a past she cannot remember, Runa haunts the flower-draped terraces of Akiponahai like a ghost—an outsider with no one and nothing save the will to survive. But when she steals a secret far greater than forbidden love or whispered betrayal, she is trapped in a treacherous web of prophecy, peril, and a power terrible enough to destroy the world.
And, worse, threatens Runa herself.
What begins with a lonely outcast's struggle for survival becomes a breathtaking journey of courage, friendship, and self-discovery as Runa is forced to confront ancient myths, uncertain loyalties, and the terrifying monster who took everything from her.
Secrets of the Sky Gods is a sweeping, emotional epic for readers who crave vivid, unique worlds, convention-defying heroines, and stories that reveal the truths you didn’t know you knew.
Discover the secrets. Live the adventure.
At the center of a world made smaller by magicks both strange and diverse was an island that had held a unique place in the hearts of many for as long as stories had been told. Called the Sun-Throne or Trader’s Paradise, the Isle of Splendor or Cursed Jewel of the Six Seas, it had as many names as there were tongues to speak them.
But the islanders called it Akiponahai, Nest of the Sky Gods, and to them it was home.
To one side of the island, a city climbed out of the sea and up a series of natural terraces, an ages-old gift from the grateful prince of a mighty kingdom across the world. Said to have taken a century to complete and designed with neither expense nor defense in mind, it combined the wisdom of K’zalu stonesmiths with Sennan alchemy and magicks cultivated during the height of the Agacian Empire. This marvel of promise and possibility was called Milu’alua, Mother’s Embrace, better known to visitors as the City of Flowers.
With good reason.
The same midmorning sun that transformed her sandstone bricks into gold also enticed Milu’alua to flaunt all her soft-petaled glory. Flowers of every hue from sea to sky bejeweled the green-cloaked cityscape like rainbow freckles, infusing the air with a hundred subtle fragrances. Amidst this spread of beaming blossoms, fruit-laden trees generously offered their ripe treasures to passersby and sun-lazy ivy dangled from stone arches flanking every street.
And hidden within one such tangle of ivy was a young woman of about twenty summers or so, wearing a tattered, once-white cloak. She was a thief and her name was Runa.
Hungry and grumpy and up well past her usual post-dawn bedtime, Runa squinted against the already too-intense light, searching the people milling about below her for the self-conscious behavior of those with something to hide. Given her poor harvest these past few nights, she had to consider the possibility that the Pokokopo, the largest market on the island, was completely fished out.
Times like these, she almost missed the simplicity of pickpocketing. Almost.
Taking up most of the middle of Milu’alua, the Pokokopo had just about everything you could need, aside from foreign magicks and a few banned items. Fountains marked the center and each of six main entrances, and there were three concentric rings of trees to give shade to the many traders. Pillars dotted the Pokokopo at regular intervals, allowing the same linteled planters that lined the streets to dangle their greenery here. Between pillars and trees and fountains were hundreds of bamboo canopies topped with grass or colorful fabrics.
Half the canopies were taken by islanders sitting on woven grass mats, most with baskets of fresh food spread before them: fruit and vegetables, fish caught that morning, goat and boar meat, or staples like rice, dried maize, or purple-root. Others offered Nahaian specialties, island spices and curatives, beautifully crafted jewelry and clothing with multicolored geometric patterns woven in. These huts were occupied by the same islanders sitting in the same spots every day.
When they weren’t there, Runa usually knew who was sick or traveling, who was at home nursing their sick children and who was just taking a lazy day off.
The remainder of the canopies were run by an ever-changing roster of foreign traders from a dozen kingdoms, with those of the three greatest lands tending to dominate. Elaborately-dressed Sennan merchants offered alchemical ingredients and medicinal remedies, bolts of silk, rolls of beautifully dyed paper, and strange mechanical devices. The pale Tragentines brought wheat and cheese, iron and copper tools, and bundles of wool or shiny fur. And dark-skinned, smiling K’zalu came with their own spices, cotton, tobacco, glass, thick leather-bound books, and fine, if fragile, ceramics.
Islanders and foreigners alike browsed the various offerings amidst a cacophony of shouting, laughing, arguing, and even some singing here and there. Children played games while their parents were distracted and seniors watched with knowing smiles as older boys and girls awkwardly flirted with each other. Throngs of chatting men and women occasionally caused blockages in the flow of traffic until they were reminded to keep moving.
Usually by foreigners.
Limited to staying just three days by the Iximi’akepo, the Curse of the Sun, the overseas traders were far more forceful in their bartering than the relaxed Nahaians but were also quicker to strike a less-favorable deal when their time ran low. If tempers flared, the Xotichli, the Protectors, were always nearby to cool things down. Though each person had their own reasons for coming, they all seemed to have a place in the whole and most of them looked happy.
Most of them.
Copper-skinned Nahaians shared the traditional island greeting and farewell, kissing cheeks and offering each other Kiama Korora, Warmth and Welcome. Foreigners, trying to trade in broken, halting Nahaian, rarely received such consideration.
There had once been a time when the locals would’ve been more forgiving, or switched to the mixed pidgin that most sailors seemed to speak. But over the past few summers, the islanders had slowly gotten a bit… prickly with foreigners. Almost like the Nahaians resented them. It was a subtle shadow beneath the spirit of the Pokokopo, hidden from most by bright smiles and chatter but not from Runa.
So much for warmth and welcome.
Stifling a yawn, Runa found herself irritated, though not because of the growing hostility. She was a thief, no one liked her anyway. But while any thief with the skill to avoid the Xotichli—and she only knew of a few—would’ve been thrilled with the endless stream of full coin purses and unattended merchandise, she had abandoned those mundane valuables in favor of a rarer commodity:
Secrets.
It was a tricky undertaking, stealing a secret—to sneak into someone’s mind, take what they might hold most dear, and leave again without falling victim to the defenses of their unconscious. Trickier still to sell such things. But the benefit of taking the intangible was safety.
She didn’t know where the strange ability to steal secrets came from or why, and she didn’t care because she could use it without interacting with anyone. She just had to be physically close, within ten paces, allowing her to hide in the vine-choked planters. And if she did it right, no one even knew what she’d done. It was perfect…except for the past few days being so fruitless.
Er, maybe not entirely fruit-less.
Anyone looking might’ve seen a thin, pale arm sprout from the ivy and reach down to pluck a tangerine from the tree just below before disappearing once more into the thick greenery. With practiced ease, Runa removed the rind in one long piece and popped a tangy segment into her mouth.
She could stay here at the Pokokopo and hope her luck changed but her luck had never been that good. Or she could head over to the Tameo’kilua, the Temple of the Oracle, to see if Honu’s petitioners knew anything worthwhile—except it was so far and he’d been especially cranky lately.
Hmm…no, it might be best to give up and go back to her cozy little den for some overdue slee—
Eep!
Runa let out a tiny squeak as a hummingbird somehow mistook her ear for a flower, sticking its long, wet tongue where it didn’t belong. She jerked back, nearly tumbling out of the narrow planter before catching the edge of the lintel with two fingers and a toe. Without looking down at the four-stride drop to unforgiving stone, she clambered back into the safety of the ivy and waited.
But no one shouted or pointed or even looked up at her.
Runa picked up the leftover tangerine, dirty from where she’d dropped it in the soil, and chucked it at the hummingbird. With an iridescent flash of its tail, the feathered blue-green nuisance huffed off to rejoin a rainbow of countless other shimmering pests flitting over a group of fiery orange and yellow iohi’akepo, sun lotuses, their petals spread to soak in the morning light.
Runa glared after it.
Were the hummingbirds adorable? Sure. Visitors sailed in from all directions, wind to leeward, manu to flockward, to watch the hummingbirds dance about like pretty little fairytales. Some said they were magic, flying down from the sun every morning to usher in the dawn. Others thought they granted wishes when caught.
They weren’t so charming with their tongues in her ear and, for reasons known only to the hovering cretins, this was not the first time one of them had done so. Between that and the mess they left beneath them, she’d love if someone exterminated the little—
Runa felt a chill and her skin prickled as she noticed another bird perched atop another arch only a few paces away. And not just any bird but one of the gold-feathered xota, the eagles that roosted throughout Milu’alua. The ones big enough to carry her off without effort, the ones with the ginormous, deadly-sharp, inescapable talons…
The ones who went berserk on anyone fool enough to attack the tiny turquoise fluffballs.
This novel is Epic Fantasy in the most sweeping scope and style, but the book’s true appeal comes from the portrayal of the main character, Runa. Much of the conflict is internal.
There are four ways to show personality: what the author tells us directly, what the character says, what the character does, and what the other characters say. Information from the author is reliable, but it runs afoul of the “Show, Don’t Tell” rule. Information we get from the character herself is immediate and moving, but — especially in this case — can be misleading. When what the character tells us comes into conflict with how she acts, it gets very interesting.
Because like all of us, Runa thinks she’s acting logically. She is a small, weak person surviving in a hostile world, and she must do what she can to stay safe. As the opening chapters progress, readers get suspicious that they need to take a step back and get some outside data to realize that she is completely traumatized, acting like a frightened wild creature. And here we come into a more complex way of getting information; we observe the other characters, analyze their personalities, and then watch how they react with Runa. Then we begin to get a picture of what is really going on. From that point, we are free to observe her progress as she develops from a frightened street urchin into a heroine of epic proportions.
So, this becomes a story of the intertwining of sympathetic personalities, forming into a team to battle a truly horrific villain. This conflict develops into an epic final battle which makes up for a lack of physical action in the rest of the book.
The epic style of the story could be a problem for some readers. It is a long novel (in the 600-page range). It covers a complex society with a long history, and the author wants to tell us all about it. So, when an ancient myth or event impinges on the plotline, an appropriate character steps up to tell us the story. When a new setting appears, we get a full description. Only one factor can redeem all this “telling:” a writer who is talented enough to make each detour entertaining and important to us.
Highly recommended for fans of l-o-o-o-ng Epic Fantasy and fine writing.