Two ill-fated souls trying to escape the control of their elders, instead collide with each other and discover they are forever bound together by the same infernal curse. The darkness they fear is found in their own hearts and for good or ill they are doomed to replay the calamitous events that destroyed a kingdom.
As fate rules, Jett and his Kin are granted permission to leave Tellavare, but only under strict conditions and the guarantee Jett will obey and not cause any trouble. However, decisions will be out of his hands when his path collides with a girl who is shrouded by darkness and secrecy, the exact type the Faerinn Elders would condemn. The trouble continues when his Kin are separated, and Jett must make the decision between obeying rules and traditions or protecting a girl who he discovers is bound to him through ancient prophecy. The same girl that knows the evil art of Witch-craft, and together with him can Summon the Dead and open a Gate to Hell. All the while trying to avoid and fight off the damning and perilous prophecy over his own life and that of his Kin.
Two ill-fated souls trying to escape the control of their elders, instead collide with each other and discover they are forever bound together by the same infernal curse. The darkness they fear is found in their own hearts and for good or ill they are doomed to replay the calamitous events that destroyed a kingdom.
As fate rules, Jett and his Kin are granted permission to leave Tellavare, but only under strict conditions and the guarantee Jett will obey and not cause any trouble. However, decisions will be out of his hands when his path collides with a girl who is shrouded by darkness and secrecy, the exact type the Faerinn Elders would condemn. The trouble continues when his Kin are separated, and Jett must make the decision between obeying rules and traditions or protecting a girl who he discovers is bound to him through ancient prophecy. The same girl that knows the evil art of Witch-craft, and together with him can Summon the Dead and open a Gate to Hell. All the while trying to avoid and fight off the damning and perilous prophecy over his own life and that of his Kin.
2100 years later
Fifth Epoch, Age of Reformation
I do not suffer as one; we combat pain together to form a protective fortress
I do not grow as a single stalk; we combine our knowledge to create a plentiful harvest
I do not act on my own; we cast our strength as one mighty sword to swing
I do not endure alone; we sacrifice our needs to become a powerful army
I do not walk my own way; we march as one down the road set for us from the first day
Kin Pledge
Gold seraphim wings spread towards the center of the door’s mantle. Encrusted in the gold, clusters of rubies, diamonds, and opals, shimmering in silvery light, formed a tapestry of exquisite colour and design. The giant Empyrean creatures rested on pillars in glorious splendour overseeing the underground chamber. Veins of rich crimson and glistening moonstone wound up the fluting of the gold pillars on each side of the fifteen-foot wide double doors the angelic beings guarded.
Jett admired the dazzling display without need of light. He could see in the dark; a side-effect that came with the Charer Gift. The door, well over twenty-feet high, was made of a black metal called malreus. Unlike any other known metal, it could not be damaged by Jett’s Gift or any Gift possessed by his race.
He touched an etching on the smooth plate, of an immense angel illuminated from within with a silver hue. The ancient title, Ushriya Ari’Shelomyth was written in gold below the wings. ‘Peace for the Dead,’ he whispered. A shame no one could admire the beauty of the excellent workmanship. Eternity would come with it remaining in the dank dusty space.
Shadows stretched to life on the walls behind him. Dim light bounced on the stairs from a lantern being swung in a hurry. ‘Jett?’ A voice bounded off the stone walls in annoyance. ‘Where have you gone?’
The lantern came to hover near Jett’s shoulder, affecting his vision. He stepped away from the one holding it, his friend and one of his Kin, Marcus. Shorter than Jett, Marcus had muscles upon muscles and wide shoulders to support them, and under the stretching light, his normally rugged face looked like a boy’s, and his brown hair was as untidy as it always was. Unlike Marcus, Jett was pale, and he imagined with his clear skin and black hair, he looked ghostly in the faint glow, and not at all boyish.
Marcus flexed a brawny arm, holding the light high to view the embellished doorframe. ‘Tell me we’re not going in there.’
Two openings gaped on each side of the chamber. Left, a ramp sloped downward. Jett walked to the opposite opening, towards a short set of steps and away from the ancient tomb. ‘We’re not.’
Marcus gazed at the doorway with the ramp. ‘My guess, you didn’t expect that.’
He was correct; the unexpected second entrance was a hindrance. The map was vague enough aside from extra doorways. He sent a simple sentence into Marcus’ thoughts, delivered with a stab of irritation; I’m not sure what’s down here. The direct telepathic statement was received by the member of his Kin as easily as words spoken.
‘You’re telling me now?’ Marcus spurted in answer to his remark.
Jett grinned. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
Marcus followed after, grumbling, ‘And what makes you think this is the right way?’
‘The stairs look worn.’ That was all he had to go on. He hadn’t been able to find any clear directions on this underground section of the fortress.
In the new chamber, Jett sensed the change in pressure. Breathing deep of the less stale air, he came out from the slight overhang of rock and stood on a stone slab platform. He gasped at the size of the cavernous chamber opening up on his right. The highest point of the jagged rock ceiling was eighty feet and the rest of the cavern twisted away from his vision. Straight ahead there seemed to be another path. With his lantern shedding meagre light on his surroundings, Marcus walked forward, ignorant to the grandeur of the chamber. Jett yanked Marcus’ arm and he stumbled backwards, sending a shower of grit cascading to the rocks below.
‘What’d you do that for?’ Marcus cried, brushing the dust from his pants.
‘Can’t you see that?’ Jett leaned over the path’s edge. A five-foot gap between where they stood and the other ledge would have dropped him to a painful death.
Marcus leaned over with his lantern dangling. ‘Flamin’ arse!’
Jett pointed to the other side where the flat appeared to slope down. ‘It’s a fake path. An illusion.’ He looked towards the bottom of the chamber. Under the walkway and between the columns of walls, the rocks were covered with a dense mass of black; opaque layers of something that appeared organic. As his eyes focused on the strange sight, he saw more of it everywhere underneath them. Deep holes in the rock were coated in the blackness. He got off his hands and knees, having seen enough. ‘We must be careful.’
Sharp to their left, Jett turned to a narrow pathway of black stone slabs, close to the wall on one side, but open to the cavern on the other.
Marcus followed and stood, half hanging over the un-walled side, looking down through the four-foot gap between the path and the limestone wall across from them. ‘I see what you mean.’
‘Stay away from the edges,’ Jett flared with growing anxiety, ‘and whatever you do, be quiet.’ Along the wall of the path, was a carved mural of robed men carrying crowns, scepters and other treasures. The ancient carvings were cracked and eroded, but at least Jett got the sense they were headed in the right direction. The walkway turned a straight right. The gap between the path and the opposite wall fell back to near twenty feet, and a smaller space of three feet was now on their left. The path was now free standing, supported somehow from beneath. Smooth limestone blocks were fashioned into arches, creating alcoves holding empty fire brackets.
‘Stay in the middle of the path,’ Jett ordered.
‘Gladly.’
Eventually the path curved and met with the high wall on the right. Jett had seen the decoration of the massive door glistening as he approached. He wished he could see it in its natural brilliance without the flickering of the patchy glow. In the same design as the previous door, the difference was the gemstones and the entities adorning the golden pillars. Lush sapphires and shades of emeralds and topaz’ enhanced the dragons’ mighty wings extended over the door’s crest. The noble beasts’ scales twinkled in a beautiful menagerie of glittering affect. Wrought into the pillars, as if it naturally occurred, iridescent veins of lapis-lazuli sparkled with vivid opulence. Zohar Ari’Chanah was written above the door. In awe, he swept his hand over the strong black door. Fingering the fine etching, he traced over the roaring dragon’s haunches. Such a commanding creature had not been seen on Earth for more than two ages.
‘Royal Treasures,’ he said, ‘this is it.’
In the middle of each door was a circle with layers of grooves carved into the malreus. The intricate channels around the curved edge needed a similar patterned disc to slot into it. He placed his palm in one of the deep impressions. ‘The key hole.’
‘It’s malreus.’ Frowning, Marcus placed his lantern on the ground.
‘It will be stone underneath,’ Jett said.
You hope. Marcus cast him a dark look and shouldered him out the way. Should have known. He pressed his palm into the indented circle. Jett waited while Marcus sent his Ethos past the Malreus and into the stone mechanism within the door. Similar to Jett being able to burn with his eyes, Marcus had the Gift of breaking solid objects with the touch of his hands. Everything that is, except the black rock, malreus.
After moments of Marcus feeling the polished metal and the intricate lock beyond, rocks split within the door, followed by a metallic crunch. He shoved on it with his side. A crumbling rattle followed, but the black plate remained in place. The door rolled in, and rubble from in between the plate fell to the dusty floor at the opening. The door stood ajar enough for Jett to walk through. Marcus stopped to eye his handiwork, scooping out broken granite from a chest high hole between the malreus panel.
Jett sucked in his breath at the stagnation in the chamber. Dust clouds made the space hazy. Healthy air was absent and he breathed in the musky choking stink. The end of the room was not visible, so crowded was it with archaic furniture and countless rows of decrepit shelving, and piles of wall hangings and rugs, turned to grey coated lumps of dowdy material. Wooden crates and chests, occupying every available space, were stacked with no order. Neglected armor stands tilted against trunks and shelves, or had fallen down altogether. The large amount of books and scrolls in the room startled Jett more than all the other items. Amongst the discarded objects, not a flicker of gold reflected back at them, only a grey gloom of abandoned possessions.
‘Devil’s bloody arse!’ Marcus held his light aloft. ‘It’s all... junk.’
A grin spread across Jett’s face. ‘Did you expect them to keep anything of great worth in here?’
‘Where do we start?’
Jett assumed what he searched for would be some of the last items thrown in. He went to the first of the arches along one side. Shabby chests, stacked on each other were beside a stand holding brass incense burners. Behind them stood an exotic gong, a mixture of staves and peculiar contraptions made of copper. Scrolls and a great number of leather books, once piled high, now spread across the floor and coated in grime. Marcus placed the lantern by his feet and stared down at the books. ‘Must be quite an author to get put down here.’
Jett lifted a dust coated book from the pile and waved it at Marcus. ‘Zaki’is Fur’Mole.’
‘You found it already?’
‘No, but these are his books.’ Jett’s knowledge of the man was limited. Fur’Mole proclaimed to be many things; inventor, explorer, philosopher, and historian to add to the list, yet it seemed no one took him seriously or made his titles official, hence his work was stored away. He was not a man of great repute.
‘Wasn’t that man insane?’
‘So they say.’ Jett lugged a chest across the floor, sending black dust flying. Musky air hit his nostrils when he opened it, making him cough.
Marcus opened the second chest. He tossed scrolls onto the floor, scattering them in a mess of pages. ‘What’s the name of this book again?’
‘“Hot Springs in the Land of Tremors.”’
Marcus pulled out a pile of books from the chest. ‘“A Wider Horizon” – “What to do with Leeches” – “Battles and other Oddities.”’ Shaking his head at the book, he chuckled. ‘“All Things Green” – “The Higher Intelligence of Insects.” No wonder they thought he was mad.’ He threw each book to the floor after speaking its title. ‘“You can Never be too Humble.” Earona needs this one.’
Jett pulled out a plain brown book. He flipped through it and stopped to study a map of a country called Trevally, otherwise known as the Land of Tremors, in the far west. Moments passed as he read. Finally, he said, ‘Found it.’
‘Good. Let’s get out of here.’
‘Wait,’ Jett said, ‘I promised something for Shiarn for helping me, and Ethan.’ He swiveled to view the room. Nothing valuable or attractive that he could see, at least nothing that would appeal to a woman.
From under piles of books in the chest, Marcus yanked up a sack. After sticking his hand in, he pulled out a sheathed sword. He whistled at the black blade. ‘You can have your books, I’ll have this.’ He admired its curving hilt, shaped in a pattern representing wind.
Jett picked up a book from the bag. ‘“From Glory to Ruin, Amin-Sayeda.”’ He leafed through the pages. A sketch of a ziggurat caught his attention, and he stared for moments, transfixed by a white coloured orb at its top. As if recalling a dream, he knew he had seen the thing before. ‘What did you say?’
‘Ah… nothing.’
Jett could have sworn he heard someone speak his name. He closed the book and brushed the dust from its cover. ‘Must be some echo.’
‘Just you and me here.’ Marcus shook his head at him.
‘Fine. What shall we bring Shiarn?’
Marcus took a pendant from the same sack and swung it before Jett’s face. ‘This?’ Circular in shape, its center was a white opal gem, in the shape of an almond eye.
Jett touched the gem. A jumble of incomprehensible words shot into his mind, and with sudden breathlessness, he snatched back his hand. ‘I…’
‘Ethan might like this.’ Marcus tossed him a medallion, also from the box. Two malreus circles were joined together to form an eight.
Jett creased his brow as he studied it. At least it didn’t invoke any strange visions. ‘Doesn’t matter. We have to go.’ He opened the sack and Marcus gently placed the sword back inside, while the other items were thrown in.
‘You don’t sense anything?’ Jett watched with surprise.
‘Um, I sense the bag might be heavy with all these books.’ Marcus chuckled at one he put in with the others. ‘“Philosophy for Those Who Know Everything.” Keanan would appreciate it.’
Jett shook his head. He hoped Keanan would not find out what they were doing, and he didn’t think he should have evidence to show for it. Keanan would be horrified by their misdemeanour. He put what books they didn’t take, back into the chest. In case someone did come down, they would suspect nothing.
‘I’ve got some for the others too.’
Jett sighed at Marcus’ brazen theft. He hadn’t told the rest of the Kin what they were doing, and now they were bringing them souvenirs of their crimes. ‘Throw this one in too.’ He tossed him the one on Amin-Sayeda plus the journal on the Land of Tremors.
Marcus lost his balance catching the books and tipped the incense stand. Lurching forward, he grabbed the falling dishes and they tinkled together.
‘Marcus!’ Jett hissed.
‘Don’t panic.’ He stood and righted the stand.
On the way out, Jett kicked the rubble of the broken lock into the treasure room and pulled the door shut.
‘That wasn’t too hard.’ Marcus started up the passage.
Faint clicking from an indefinable source echoed around them. A springing, ticking movement vibrated the walkway. Looking down at the stone beneath his feet, Jett halted. Stop! He looked to the limestone walls on his left, too far away for anyone to see even with a light. Countless holes were drilled into the rock. ‘Down,’ he shouted, diving onto Marcus, knocking him flat.
Whizzing above them, javelins flew, slamming into the wall on their right.
‘Flamin’ hell,’ Marcus heaved, ‘Traps!’
Beside Marcus, Jett laid on his back, watching the thin black spears thud into the limestone along the walkway, the lowest ones not more than half an arm above them. The fierce twang of the weapons rang out for moments after they hit. Silence descended after the last spear made contact.
Marcus crawled under the shafts, dragging the lantern, while Jett took the sack. ‘You never said anything about traps.’
‘I didn’t think there would be.’ Jett was just as surprised and now concerned. ‘There was nothing here to guard.’
Marcus arrived first to the corner of the passage.
A monstrous ringing filled the chamber, booming and shaking the rock walls.
Jett looked down at the slab and cursed. A mighty bell clanged again. A pause and then it rang without ceasing. Screeching from the pits of the enormous cavern grew with volatile force. An entanglement of skittering and shrieking reverberated against the rocks, seeming to merge into the cry of one ferocious beast, filling the chamber with dread.
‘Oh, hell,’ Marcus cried. The bells had woken the arpers; vicious flying cave vermin. The only thing to intimidate them was Marcus’ lone lantern. Not only did the chimes wake the creatures, it sounded an alarm. ‘How long we got?’
‘As long as we get to Shiarn.’ She was Jett’s insurance for the items in the bag. They could find him, but not the book.
A dense shadow swarmed towards them. The cave creatures batted against each other and the rocks, as they swooped and dived at the men’s bodies. Marcus swung his light in an arc over Jett and himself, warding off the flying black monsters. It kept most at bay, except those daring enough to fly into the light. The arpers swiped at their faces, pecking and ripping with their needle sharp claws and protruding fangs. The size of a hand, one alone would not do any real harm, but there seemed to be hundreds all wanting to scratch at their flesh.
Jett pulled the blade from the bag, and cut into the glut of them, not knowing if he did any damage. In the midst of the swarm, Jett grabbed Marcus’ arm, preventing him moving forward. ‘Wait.’
‘We can’t wait here.’
Jett stood inches from Marcus’ back, now grateful for the lantern’s presence and stared at the twenty foot walkway. The traps were active that was clear. They had to be more than careful, they had to not get killed. He should have noticed it before, but now he saw it. ‘Pressure plates are along here.’ He looked at the wall on the right side. Erosion had exposed minute holes drilled randomly into the sculpture. ‘If you run, you will die.
‘What then?’
Jett studied the flat black slabs. ‘We have to set them off.’
Marcus groaned. ‘How?’
Jett put his back to Marcus’ and swung the blade at the creatures blocking his path. ‘Come.’ They moved quickly back to the spears with Marcus whirling the lantern at the frenzying creatures. He handed the blade to Marcus and grasped the nearest spear, wrenching it with both hands. Arpers slashed at his face and neck, their harsh bristles rubbed on his face, while they clamped onto his exposed skin. Jett’s shouted curses ricocheted through the chamber and he bore with the pain. Ignoring the fangs biting through his clothes, he held the spear and connected with his Ethos to ignite his vision. He heated the rock enough to wriggle the spear free. With the spear, he hit the creatures hanging off his limbs, and squashed them under his boot with angry curses.
Back at the pathway, Jett reached out and pounded the stone with the spear’s tip. Clusters of long needles whizzed past so quickly it was difficult to see. Crouching low and shielding his head and face just in case, he hit all the steps he could reach before he and Marcus moved on. Thin sharp points shot out at four different levels, piercing the flying pests. Though one shot might not kill a man, all of them together would eventually. They reached the last strip of steps.
Marcus leapt towards the stairs leading out and used the wall to steady his propulsion. Jett stepped more cautiously onto the black slab. The stone platform moved under his feet and he slid as the stone tilted down from his weight, sending the spear clattering to the rocks below.
Flinging the lantern into the adjoining chamber, Marcus stamped his foot down on the opposite end, halting the platform’s sway. In the same moment, he flicked his sword away to safety and grabbed Jett’s hand, preventing him from slipping down. Jett clenched hard to Marcus’ grip, the only thing keeping him from falling through the crack. He scrabbled up the stone that wanted to swing and topple him down. Marcus pulled all of Jett’s weight until Jett got a handhold of the stone’s edge near the stair. Once Jett landed on the stair, Marcus removed his foot. The great black slab, grinding against the rock, continued swiveling after its restraint.
‘Holy Kahm!’ Marcus shouted, ‘We’re alive!’
Jett patted his shoulder, still recovering from his near fatal fall to the rocks below. ‘Only just.’
Marcus grinned like an overgrown boy. ‘Lucky I’m here to save your skin.’
Jett smiled back. He was not going to mention how he had saved Marcus’ life moments before, because that’s what Jett was there for.
Not having any time to spare, they ran into the first chamber. The ringing shook the air and pounded in Jett’s ears. Forsaking the light of the lantern, Jett ran ahead up the staircase, slashing at more arpers that still seemed determined to flap around his head and fly into his body. A chasm lay to the left of the stairs, and Jett kept close to the wall on the right, not knowing what might happen next.
The creatures lessened as he neared the landing yet the chamber still resounded with the gongs. He breathed hard as he came to another door; plain and wooden, leading up to the fortress. Shiarn?
Marcus halted beside him and Jett pushed through the door to another stair made from cut stone. He bounded up the stairs two at a time. ‘Shiarn!’ He could see nothing, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there.
A woman with red spiraling hair and bright eyes peering into darkness appeared suddenly. Her voice, normally deep and melodious was cross, ‘Jett?! You’ve made a horrendous racket down there.’
Marcus ran up to them, bringing the only light.
She ran a hand over Jett’s torn sleeves. ‘What happened to you? Look’s like you shoved your head into a meat grinder.’
‘No time to explain.’ Jett pushed the sack into her hands. ‘Here.’
Lifting it, she squawked, ‘Ow!’
‘The sword’s mine,’ Marcus said.
‘You can have your sword.’ She rummaged through the bag. ‘What have you got for me?’
Jett cried, ‘We don’t have time for this!’
‘When did you two take up reading?’ she lifted out a tattered dusty book.
‘For the others,’ Marcus said. ‘There’s jewelry for you.’
‘Kahm above, don’t tell me it’s this.’ She held the malreus shape and eyed it with disdain.
Beyond the door were footsteps and angry shouts.
‘Shiarn, just take it.’ Jett shoved it all back in the bag and hung it over her shoulder. ‘And disappear.’
In an instant, she disappeared from sight with her words ringing in their minds, I’ll meet you later.
The door flung open. Jett and Marcus stood staring at crossbows crowded into the lit corridor. Jett recognized every one of the men holding them. Leading the pack, a solidly built man with a hardened face and crooked nose, stepped forward. The Master Avare said, ‘More of the rats coming up from the hole.’
Pushed through the men, was a tall young man with thick shoulders and a dense chest. His tangle of brown hair flopped over his eyes, and he looked down sheepishly. Ethan, one of Jett’s Kin, should have been keeping a look out. They came out of nowhere, sorry, Ethan’s thoughts were clear to Jett and Marcus.
Don’t worry, I’ve got what I came for. Jett’s hands clenched at his sides, surprised at the sight of the man before him. ‘Rambaras.’ Why is he here? And why so many sentries on patrol?
‘That’s Master Avare to you,’ Rambaras growled. ‘Kushar and Myrell, stop that cursed ringing and see what they have done down there. Errol, check them.’ Two men pushed past Jett and ran down the stairs. Errol, a thin man, with a short neat beard, felt their bodies with a hard press of his palms. It was obvious they carried nothing except the lantern.
‘What were you doing down there?’ The Master Avare’s stalwart voice boomed down the corridor.
‘Nothing.’ Jett’s black eyes pierced the Master Avare’s hard stare.
Rambaras’ face reddened. His long dark hair swayed as he dashed forward, and unsheathing a black sword, he pointed it at Jett’s throat. ‘Get down!’
Under compulsion to obey, Jett knelt before his superior.
Rambaras moved the sword tip inches from Jett’s neck. ‘Now answer the question.’
Marcus said, ‘We were explor—’
Rambaras directed the sword at Marcus, sending him to his knees as well. Ethan followed the two. ‘Do you realize how much strife you are in?’ Rambaras’ heavy brows, knotting together, shaded his mean eyes. ‘You’ve broken the door to the fortress and this one. God knows what you have done below.’
‘We haven’t taken anything.’ Jett eyed the narrow corridor, gauging the space, hoping there was enough for an invisible girl to sneak through.
Marcus said under his breath, ‘There was nothing to steal.’
The ringing from below ceased and Rambaras stared towards the door. After some moments, he let loose a chain of curses. ‘You’ve broken into the Zohar and set off the traps.’ His rage increased when he saw Jett watching with his dark eyes. His left arm lashed out, hitting Jett across the face, smearing the blood from his cuts over his mouth and enflaming them all. Before Jett could turn his face, Rambaras pushed his sword edge into Jett’s already bloodied neck. Jett’s eyes burned; his only thought was how he would kill Rambaras before the man had a chance to kill him.
Rambaras bent down inches from Jett’s face and spoke, his voice as sharp as the blade. ‘Why shouldn’t I kill you right now?’
Jett didn’t doubt he could do it right there and then. From the corner of his eye he scanned the men behind Rambaras. They included a few members of three Kins. The Master Avare’s Kin, Blessed Hand, were stern looking men and they probably shared Rambaras’ sentiment. The Golden Hound Kin were members of the Border Sentries and might be unbiased towards him. Also present were two members of a young Kin, like Jett’s, the Crimson Hunters. Tarn and Brunel were both loose with their tongues and not enough intelligence between them to do anything productive. Besides that, Jett couldn’t stand them.
‘Because it would be murder.’ Marcus spoke up.
Jett took his eyes off the men watching and stared at Rambaras’ cruel face, daring him to act.
Marcus went on, ‘There’ll need to be a trial. Besides, we haven’t even taken anything.’
‘Shut your mouth, boy,’ Rambaras barked, and his voice echoed down the passage.
‘Why were those traps working?’ Jett cut in.
‘That’s no concern of yours.’ Rambaras withdrew his sword. ‘Pity they didn’t kill you.’
Jett glowered.
The men came dashing up the stair, breathing heavily. One of the Master Avare’s men, Kushar said, ‘There’s some disturbance within the Zohar but we can’t see if anything of value was taken.’
Myrell, a member of the Golden Hound, added, ‘There’s nothing there to take.’ He looked with surprise towards Jett and Marcus. ‘But the damage is great.’
Rambaras backed away and slid his sword back into his scabbard, a broad grin spread on his face. ‘You have gotten you and yours into a mountain of trouble and you have nothing to show for it.’ He chuckled softly. ‘Your chances of leaving Tellávare are slipping through your fingers. I’d say this just about seals your fate.’ He turned his back to the three and said to the men, ‘Take them to the Sentry Pit until we get word up to the Eighfest.’
Jett scowled at Rambaras’ back, but held his tongue.
Tarn and Myrell marched them off at the end of the procession, through the hall of the empty ancient fortress, The Seat of Halcyon. Jett walked behind Ethan and Marcus with Tarn bringing up the rear. Tarn muttered, ‘You and your dogs will be stuck here. Scum under the nails of those more worthy than you.’
‘One day, Tarn, I’m going to shut you up,’ Jett snarled, ‘for good.’
Tarn chortled behind him.
Far from hearing, Jett was already making plans. There was no way any man, or Prophet, or high and mighty Avare, would stop him from leaving Tellávare. Not even the Judge himself would be able to hold him back.
Fantasy is one of my favorite genres and I love finding new stories to read within this genre. The Guardians: Witch Child by Louise Saville is a true hidden gem. From the very beginning this story grabs your attention and it takes you on a journey. It is a real page-turner and I had a hard time putting it down once I began reading it. The more I read, the more captivated I became and that is all thanks to Louise Saville’s marvelous writing.
The world building in this novel was well done. It never felt too overwhelming to learn about this new world. It was quite the opposite for me, in fact, I truly enjoyed learning about it. I appreciated the map that was included at the beginning, as that always helps me feel more connected to the world where the story takes place. When it comes to the characters, they were well-developed. Little by little you get to know them, and sure, I liked some better than others but as I’ve said many times before, it’s not strange not to like all characters. We are all drawn to different characters for different reasons.
This novel can look a little intimidating since it is over seven hundred pages but what worked for me, was reading with by parts. The Guardians: Witch Child is already divided into four parts, so I tried to read one part per day. Sometimes I actually read more than that because, again, I was so intrigued as to what would happened next that I just couldn’t put it down. This was truthfully a great fantasy novel that I will be reading again.
The Guardians: Witch Child is a great addition to the fantasy genre and I would highly recommend it to anyone who loves it or wants to start reading more within the fantasy genre. The story is well-written and well-paced. The world-building is great and the plot is intriguing. Overall, it is a great novel, and I will be looking forward to reading more of Louise Saville’s work in the future.