Not all gifts are blessingsâŠ
Sixteen-summer-old Mirana Pinal is one of the few to have ever possessed all three magical powers of the Aspects. She has terrifying visions, however, that if she wields her powers, her homeland of Kinderra will be destroyedâthrough her. Desperate to keep her dark fate from unfolding, she tells no one about her destructive destiny but her beloved Teague Beltran, a young apprentice herbsman born without powers.
When Mirana receives alarming premonitions of an enemy attack on Kinderra, she is forced to reveal to her people that she is a Trine to warn them of the impending assault.
As the Kinderrans fight to hold armies of a cunning and ruthless enemy warlord at bay, Mirana must decide if using her powers will aid her peopleâor will bring them more peril.
Not all gifts are blessingsâŠ
Sixteen-summer-old Mirana Pinal is one of the few to have ever possessed all three magical powers of the Aspects. She has terrifying visions, however, that if she wields her powers, her homeland of Kinderra will be destroyedâthrough her. Desperate to keep her dark fate from unfolding, she tells no one about her destructive destiny but her beloved Teague Beltran, a young apprentice herbsman born without powers.
When Mirana receives alarming premonitions of an enemy attack on Kinderra, she is forced to reveal to her people that she is a Trine to warn them of the impending assault.
As the Kinderrans fight to hold armies of a cunning and ruthless enemy warlord at bay, Mirana must decide if using her powers will aid her peopleâor will bring them more peril.
"Great need and greater love can beget miracles."
--The Codex of Jasal the Great
Â
âIf I donât understand my ciphers, I wonât get to be a seer. Theyâll never let me choose an amulet,â Taddie whimpered, his breaths turned to little puffs of steam in the chill air of the stable.
Mirana Pinal bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brows in amused concern at the little boyâs predicament. âYou were born a seer. Nothing and no one can take away the gift the Aspects Above gave you.â
She knew that all too well.
She scooted across the stableâs hay-strewn floor to sit closer to him and wiped the tears from his cheeks. âItâs not the end of the world. Itâs just a cipher problem.â
 âIf I canât understand my numbers,â he sniffed back more tears, âhow will I understand my seerâs visions when Iâm older?â
Mirana waved her hand, sending a small current of intent to the lamps with the gesture. They flared to life dispelling some shadows and creating others as evening descended outside of the stable.
âTaddie, youâre only six summers old. I think you have some time to learn your numbers. You saw Falantir in shambles just like me. Just like the rest of the seers.â
Taddie wiped his nose with a sleeve. âAi, but you were the only one who saw it was the Kenânar.â He was right. Her interpretation of that vision led to the order extending her fatherâs tour of duty. And may have sent him to his death.
She tensed, her own throat tight with emotion she could not let come. No. She would know if he died.
The boy blinked, his tears momentarily forgotten. âDid I say something wrong?â
Ai. âNo, of course not. I justânever mind.â
He lowered his watery sapphire-blue gaze. âIâm stupid.â
âYou are not stupid. Just because you donât understand something, doesnât make you stupid. If anyone is failing here, itâs me. Iâm not doing a good job explaining things to you.â
Taddie played with a piece of straw. âYou never fail at anything.â
He could not be more wrong.
Mirana laughed anyway. Maybe he would think she thought his comment humorous.
âMy maithe has us older scholaireâe teaching you younger ones to help us both learn our lessons. So, like it or not, weâre in this together. Letâs try something different.â
She searched the monstrous stable for something that would help the little boy learn the simple sum. The horse paddocks made up one quarter-mile-long arm of the massive, multi-storied square of the learning hall, all guarded by the imposing watchtower, Jasalâs Keep. The three aisles of paddocks housed hundreds of warhorses for Kin-Deren provinceâs army. Despite the wet snow falling outside, the bodies and breath of the horses made the stable nearly comfortable. And Taddie loved horses.
Horses. Horses running. Fast. Fleeing.
âScholaira Miri?â
Mirana pushed back the particular nudge the Seeing Aspect made when it wished to antagonize her. She rubbed her eyes. Horses charged all the time. It was nothing.
She rose to her feet, brushing at the straw clinging to her heavy cotton leggings. âCome with me.â The boy followed her to the first paddock of one of the long stable aisles. âAll right. Letâs try it again, except weâre going to use the horse stalls this time. Four plus six.â
Ten. It was important. The most important number there could be.
The probing sense of an impending vision prodded her brain. Ten? What the heck was ten? And why was it so important?
Taddie cocked his head and scowled. âAre you all right?â
She took a quick breath, pushing back her irritation. She didnât want to see a vision. They were seldom good ones. âIâm fine.â
He nodded and dragged the heel of a hand over his nose and continued through the riot of pale yellow curls on his head.
Mirana frowned. âUgh. And when weâre done, itâs off to the bathhouse with you.â He shrugged.
She strode down the row of stalls, stopping at the fourth one. âI want you to tell me how many horses I need to pass to reach the answer.â She began to walk backward.
âKeep going.â He waved her on.
Horses whuffled and neighed as she passed. A gray palfrey stuck its nose out over the paddock gate and blew out a greeting.
âNot now, Bankin,â Mirana stroked the fillyâs velvet snout, âweâre busy.â
Taddie laughed. âGo farther.â She continued past a few more stalls. âStop. There.â
The paddock was empty. It was Ashtarâs crib, her fatherâs warhorse. Her paithe hadnât been home for most of the last Reckoning. Fourthmonth in the new Reckoning was only a sevenday away. He and his strike force had been sent to reconnoiter just what had befallen Falantir so far to the north. Because of the interpretation of her prescience. Her paithe was all right. Of course, he was. He was the most skilled Defender in Kinderra. Nothing could take him down.
Right?
âThatâs ten,â the little seer boy piped.
Father. Her paithe.
Ten. Ten beasts. All claws and fangs.
She shook her head to dispel the image. Had Taddie called it somehow? âWell done.â
âI wanna do another one.â
âAll right.â The stable boy fidgeted up and down on his toes, his face expectant. âIf this stall is âten,â show me the horse in the stall of ten minus seven. Only this time, donât speak the name or point. I want you to call to my mind an image of the horse.â
Taddie thrust out his lip, this time in a thoughtful expression. The lip pulled back in when his mouth turned in a smile. He held her gaze intently with his own. An image of a magnificent stallion with a mahogany coat so dark it was nearly black popped up before her mindâs eye.
âExcellent! See? Youâre cipheringâand callingâjust like a real seer.â
The young seer boy squealed with joy and ran over to her, throwing his arms around her waist. She brushed a blond curl from his eyes. âI knew you could do it.â
He grinned, turning his bright little face absolutely cherubic. âGratas OĂ«, Mirana.â
She returned his smile. âDonât thank me. Youâre the one who did all the work.â
She walked over to the stallion. The steed tossed its head and sputtered. âAlways a testy one, arenât you, Traga.â
The massive stable door groaned on its hinges, all but drowning out the groan of the one who opened it. They both lifted their heads to greet the visitor. Miranaâs smile grew. So did the sudden warmth that spread through her.
âBen dia, or should I say âben nöc.â That sleet out there is making this one miserable evening.â He shook the icy rain from his hair, the moisture making it look a darker shade of brown than it was.
âOh, I donât think itâs so bad.â She rushed over to him and took his hands, warming them in hers. âTeague, Iâm so glad youâre home.â She pushed the hair out of his eyes, her smile not fading an inch. His grin matched hers, several freckles disappearing into the dimples of his smile. A giggle behind them reminded her they were not alone. People, presences, just about everything tended to fade into the background when she was with Teague. âTaddie, go help Herbsman Beltran with his horses.â She gave the stable boy a gentle push toward the mounts.
âIs that because you two want to go all mushy?â he asked as he took the horsesâ reins.
âYes,â Mirana nodded, ânow, scoot.â
âEw. Iâm never having a girlfriend. Ever.â The little boy clicked his tongue and led the horses further into the stableâs interior.
âIâm not an herbsman just yet,â Teague said, watching Taddie disappear among the seemingly endless rows of paddocks, âbut we did manage to collect a good supply of willow bark and even some callas leaves that had sprung up early.â
She stepped closer to her beloved herbsmanâs apprentice. âI canât believe you and your father stayed out an entire sevenday. What healing plants could you possibly find in this weather?â
âWe would have stayed out longer.â He pulled his forest-green gaze away from her to stare at his boots. âMy fatherâs Healing Aspect warned him weâll be seeing a rise of grippe cases after this storm.â
Why was Teague sad? He did a good thing. Callas leaves were tiny and difficult to find. âBut Iâm certain it was your brilliant intellect that remembered callas plants grow at the base of willow trees.â
He laughed, however, he was anything but happy. âBrilliant intellect? I saved us with my brilliance from an epidemic of toothaches. Thank the Aspects Above.â
She lowered her head to meet his even lower gaze. âHave you ever suffered a toothache? I think finding the callas leaves is worthy of an herbsman.â When he lifted his head, she put a hand on his arm. âAt least to me.â
She and Teague Beltran had been born within months of each other. And she cherished every single day of those nearly sixteen summers spent together.
He took her hand from his arm and held it. âHow can I hate that pale color of snow on the ground so much when your silver eyes chase away any chill.â
Mirana raised an eyebrow. âIs that supposed to be romantic?â
He smiled. âAi.â
âTry again.â
âItâs better than âyour black hair even makes coal beautiful.ââ
She squeezed her eyes shut in a wince. âNot only is that perfectly dreadful, it doesnât even make sense.â
He leaned closer. âIf you donât like the words from my lips, maybe youâll prefer them this way.â He pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his.
âThatâs much better,â she said through his kiss.
She reached up to cup his face. He said her eyes chased away his chill. Chill? What chill? She never felt cold in his arms.
Without lifting his lips from hers, he rushed her backward and into Ashtarâs empty stallâand tripped over the feed pail. They tumbled into the straw together, laughing.
âSomehow, I always imagined weâd be someplace more dung-free when you ravished me.â She hitched a thumb to the corner. Taddie had missed a spot.
His hazel eyes twinkled. âRavish you? Iâve been nothing but a gentleman.â
She giggled. âAi.â She kissed the faded freckles on his nose. âThatâs been your problem all along.â She brushed his lips with hers.
âIf this is the greeting I get from being gone just one sevenday, what would you do if I was gone ten?â He pulled her over to a cleaner corner of straw.
Ten.
The Seeing Aspect. Ten beasts. Grynwen. Twice the size of wolves. Black as midnight. Eyes as red as fresh blood. Long, pointed muzzles with uncounted long, pointed fangs. Carnivores charge out of the forest and leap upon a band of riders.
She stiffened. This time, there was no ignoring the vision as it forced itself before her mindâs eye.
âMirana?â
Fangs shred flesh. Agony shreds nerves. The Healing Aspect. Bleeding, bleeding, away, away. Snow-white uniforms stained red with blood. Shrieks of pain, man, woman, beast.
âMiri, are you all right?â
Chill sleet falls, the same sleet, the same storm thatâs outside now. The thick droplets sizzle on the smoldering carcasses. The Defending Aspect. A burning in her chest, burning, burning. She must release it through an amulet. Amulets fire. Defenders. A man with silver-frosted black hair and silver eyes turns. Screams. Falls. The forest stills. Ice and wet snowflakes fall. Like here.
Like now.
âFather!â
Mirana sat up out of Teagueâs arms, shaking and sucking in rapid gasps.
âMirana! What happened? Did I doâ? I would never make youâMiri?â
âWhat? Noâheâs dying!â she said, breathless.
Teague shook his head confusion. âWho?â
âMy father. I have to reach him.â She sprang to her feet.
He sat back on his heels, looking up at her. âIsnât he still in Kana-AkĂŒn? Thatâs more than a hundred leagues from here. I know your mind-calling ability is better than most, but thatâs too far to reach anyone.â
âI know, but Iâve got to try.â
Teague stood. âWe need to go to your mother with this.â
She shook her head. âThereâs no time.â She curled her hands into fists and closed her eyes.
âMirana,â he put a hand on her shoulder. âYour mother is prime of this province. You have to tell her.â
âLater. Right now I have to warn my father or heâs going to die.â
She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind. Too many horses too close. She growled in frustration. Mirana tore from the stable and into wet snow falling in the gray twilight of the learning hallâs courtyard, Teague rushing behind her.
The learning hall complex housed hundreds of steeds and people, but in the courtyard at least, they werenât right on top of her. And there simply wasnât time to run out of Deren and leave the city behind for better isolation.
She sank to her knees on the icy cobblestones and centered herself again. She pushed her senses beyond the murmur of minds the way one would listen for a single voice in a crowd.
... Father ... Where are you? ... Answer me ...
She searched for his presence, his essence, a life force singing all he was within the grace of the Aspects Above. His life, his power, sang in her veins, as he and her mother gave her life. And if she didnât find him in time, only the echo of him that resided within her would be all that was left. She would never let that happen.
... Father ... Please ... Answer me ...
The jumble of innumerable minds and presences swirled around her as she searched for one and only one. So very impossible. She needed more focus, more power.
An amulet.
The thought bloomed in her mind, and she shrank from it. A bond with an amulet would be demanded of her when she saw eighteen summers, the duty expected of all those who possessed the gifts of the Aspects. The pure gemstone of an amulet would confer upon its bearer the ability to focus the Aspects so tightly, he or she could accomplish actions far beyond the limited control of innate power. As for her, she would accomplish amazing things. Terrible things.
Mirana let her Seeing Aspect spread through her. Fragments of visions, premonitions, prescience drifted as they would through her consciousness. She could only pray something of her father would rise above the tantalizing yet useless information her Seeing Aspect now showed her. Without an amulet, she was at the mercy of her powers, unable to control whatâand whoâshe wanted to see. With an amulet, however, Kinderra would be at her mercy. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter. Not that. Anything but that. Unless there was no other way to save his life, she would not even touch an amulet. She still had time, two summers, before she faced such a decision. Her father still had time. Just.
Would he be in the forests of Kana-AkĂŒn searching the Kenânar, or on the plains of that provinceâs southern border, on his way home?
Her mother nor the other seers had made no mention of the information he and his strike force had discovered regarding Falantir, so he was not yet far enough away from the Kenânar to safely contact them. He must still be in the forest.
Miranaâs powers might be trapped within her from any serious manifestation, but she didnât have to âseeâ with just one power. The Aspects Above never bestowed more than one gift, never gave more than just the Defending, Seeing, or Healing Aspect alone to an individual. She gritted her teeth. Unless they gave all three.
Gifts. What gifts? Having all three powers of the Aspects made her a Trine, one of the few ever to be born. But gifts? No. Her powers were a curse, or at least they might be someday. She had seen what would happen when she took up an amulet, the horror of destruction at her hands etched permanently in her mind. So she never told a soul what those so-called âgiftsâ made her, except for Teague. Sometimes, she regretted telling him. She wished she didnât know herself.
Images, hazy with uncertainty, flit past her mindâs eye. She pushed away Teagueâs warm she awakened her Defending and Healing Aspects, letting them listen for her father with her Seeing Aspect.
The preternatural wariness of the Defending Aspect gave rise to an awareness of where life hummed. Tall, thick conifers rose from ground hardened by winter. Icy, wet snow fell in spattering taps on the ground and coated naked black branches. Mice scurried down holes under barren shrubs. A rabbit paused its browsing through the prickly pine needles of the forest floor. A deer, no, a buck picked its way through the darkening woods. It stood motionless except for its ears. They swiveled, listening.
Mirana did not see the stag as much as she fathomed its essence. Unable to draw more of its presence to her without an amulet, she forced herself to remain patient and let the animalâs being fill her. It was hungry, starving from the cruel northern winter. Her Healing Aspect told her of its want. A want desperate enough for two animals. Two exact animals.
Her hope swelled with the odd sensation. Perfection did not exist in nature. Two completely identical presences simply could not be. Every creation had flaws except for the Aspects Above themselves. She could attest to that.
Miranaâs heart hammered in her chest as she thrust the thought away. The life of the buck mirrored itself, as did some rabbits, mice, a weasel. Duplicates of animal essences, exact in every way except reality, shimmered within the Aspects. They were too far, too faint for her to detect any more than a mere whisper. But they were there. Only a person with the powers of the Aspects could manifest such a duplication, a duplication with one purposeâto hide oneâs life energiesâand none were better at performing the technique than those possessing the Defending Aspect. Defenders like her father.
She opened her mind further. If her father had cloaked his presence, she would never be able to call specifically to his mind. She could call to anyone in the vicinity of the false animals, but any Aspected mind would hear her telepathic communication.
She froze. What if the false presences werenât her father and his patrol group? What if they were Kenânar cloaking themselves? And if she called out? Their enemiesâthe latest generation to engage the Falâkin in three thousand summers of bloodshedâwould know he was near.
The Healing Aspect within her sought to bolster her failing strength. Sweat turned to cloying ice on her skin in the bitter air of the courtyard. She opened herself deeper to the strange sensations of life in the distant forest. Hunger and wariness. And pain. Exhaustion. These people had fought, had been injured. So had the Kenânar in sacking Falantir, but they now had a garrison, a place to rest, to eat, to heal. No, these Aspected who masked themselves had not paused to recover. That meant urgency. An urgency born of necessity. They had to flee Kana-AkĂŒn to warn Kin-Deren province, her home, the Kenânar were on the doorstep.
A sudden, bloodthirsty counterpoint slashed the soft harmony of animal presences within the Healing Aspect.
Grynwen.
Some said grynwen hunted with some primitive form of the Aspects. Even if the rumor were true, if her father and his strike force had cloaked themselves, the predators would sense mice, not people. They couldnât divine the duplications of essences much less search for them, could they?
Before her mindâs eye, the grynwen pack loped on long legs with primal confidence toward her father and his men and women, the drumming of their paws echoing through her Defending Aspect. Why? Their bellies were full. They had no young to defend, no blooded prey to bring down. These were not normal beasts. They hunted, she sensed, but not for food.
They wanted to kill. Because they liked it.
If the beasts hadnât tracked her father with ordinary senses, hadnât hunted him for food, they couldnât possibly know his location. Unless they were sent. Unless they had been given her fatherâs position and sent to kill him.
To warn her father, sheâd have to call wide as if she were shouting across a crowded room. Any Aspected mindâFalâkin or Kenânarâin the local area would hear. The risk was worth her paitheâs life.
The Seeing Aspect now joined with her Healing Aspect and Defending Aspect, merging of its own accord within her. It spoke of no future skein of time, no distant, uncertain knowing. It demanded her attention, present, real. Now.
... Father! ... Grynwen! ... Ride! ...
She poured as much of herself as she could into her mindâs voice, into those words. The Defending Aspect burned within her chest at the resounding need trapped within the prison of her body.
The illusion of the second stag shattered. Shock and disbelief exploded in her mind. A presence surrounded her consciousness, full of awe, of love. A moment later, the presence disappeared as if it had never existed, replaced once more by a buck.
But it was enough.
The raw need to send a warning slipped away. Her chest tightened, her lungs could not draw air. The presences, even the Aspects faded. Something hard, rough, and cold pressed against her cheek and temple.
âMirana!â a voice cried.
Hands, strong yet gentle, lifted her and placed her right palm flat against a surface, solid and warm. A thud, pulsing with life. A heartbeat. Teagueâs heartbeat. His life sang out to her Healing Aspect, reviving her.
âMirana, wake up!â His confident fingers pressed her neck, her heartbeat throbbing against his touch. She looked up at him as she lay in his arms on the courtyardâs frozen cobblestones, her breath now wreathing his face in the cold air.
He blew out loud exhale. âThank the Aspects Above.â He stroked her cheek and blinked back the sleet. âMiri, you dropped like a stone. You didnât move. I couldnât wake you. What happened?â
The clatter of small boots on cobblestones interrupted his reply.
âWhatâs wrong? What happened? I heard you both!â Taddie said as he approached.
Teague frowned. âI didnât even yell.â
The stable boy shook his head. âNo. Your minds.â
Teagueâs frown deepened.
âIâm fine,â Mirana said as Teague helped her to sit. âI just slipped on some ice, thatâs all.â She caught her herbsmanâs eye. Calling to him would do no good. He couldnât hear her, and Taddie most certainly would. He made a slight movement with his head. Few would notice the simple gesture, but such responses had become a language all their own. She hated making Teague a party to her lie, but she couldnât very well have Taddie run to the hall seers who would, in turn, run to her mother with the truth what she had just done. Far too many questions would need to be answered if that happened. âNow, get back inside before you catch a cold,â Teague replied. âYou donât want me to use the nasal pot on you again to clear your stuffy nose, do you?â
Taddieâs eyes grew as round as trenchers at the suggestion of such a horror. âAspects, no!â He turned and pelted back inside the stable.
Once the boy was gone, Teague asked again, âWhat happened?â
Mirana looked up into his forest-colored eyes. âI found him.â
The watchtower of Jasalâs Keep loomed behind her beloved, dark and foreboding, its crenulated pinnacle crown lost to the icy precipitation and the gathering night.
Her father was safe. But for how long?
This first installment in the Kinderra Saga brings with it all of the essentials for an engaging read. With well-established characters, and artful plot development and pacing, Donnelly will have you hooked, and needing the sequel. Lately, Iâve been craving a new fantasy world to escape to, and Trine Rising provided exactly what I needed. With unique worldbuilding, a well-paced plot, an phenomenal character and conflict development, this read truly exceeded my expectations and left me wanting more.Â
This book discusses themes of power, morality, and prophecy through the protagonist, Mirana Pinal. As Mirana approaches her sixteenth summer, she is faced with destructive secrets. In a world where people are gifted with powers of sight, strength, and healing by the Aspects, Mirana finds she is one of the few who possesses powers from all three. She is a Trine. However, there is a prophecy suggesting that one Trine who is destined to save Kinderra, one is meant to be its destruction. With three known Trines, where lies Miranaâs fate. When Mirana receives terrifying visions predicting a devastating battle to come, she must reveal her secrets in order to give her people, especially the man she loves, a fighting chance. Will she be Kinderraâs saving grace? Or will she be responsible for its demise? Donnelly invites you to discover the answers for yourself.Â
From a structural standpoint, this novel perfectly achieves its purpose. Within the introductory chapters of the novel, readers are presented with many layers of conflict. We learn of Miranaâs Trine identity, and begin questioning whether or not she is gifted with a blessing or a curse. We learn that her love interest, a healer named Teague, is unaspected, and their relationship is doomed. If that wasnât enough to peak a readerâs interest, we also learn there is a malicious Trine among the enemy Kenânar forces. As a result, readers are forced early on to draw three very important conclusions: Weâre faced with an epic battle of good and evil, Miranaâs relationship and future are on the line, and a bloody battle is on the horizon. Pair those things with an effective use of foreshadowing in visions and the prophecy, and you have readers turning pages needing answers.Â
Likewise, Donnelly provides readers with a well-developed fantasy world in Kinderra. I felt the balance of exposition, character development, and conflict fit what was needed for a first installment in the series. The world maps were helpful in creating a frame of reference, and providing context for readers as it became necessary was an effective way of developing this story. It's easy for authors to give too much exposition in books, and it results in a slow start for readers. This book does a great job avoiding that tendency. By introducing readers to the characters and the conflict first, this book hooked the audience, and then allowing them to fall in love with the nuances of the world the characters live in. As the plot progresses in the novel and the conflict builds, I found myself entirely invested in the fate of the characters.Â
This novel isnât a "resolve all" kind of read, and as much as I need the answers, I love books that make me wait for them. As the novel peaks, Mirana is forced to face her true identity, but readers are left with more questions to be answered, another battle lurking on the horizon, and more secrets to discover. With Miranaâs Trine ancestor, Jasal Pinal playing a larger role than previously anticipated, readers learn that this journey is only getting started for Mirana, Teague, and the characters in the story. Where will this journey lead? Weâll have to find out in the next installment: Trine Fallacy.Â
Overall, Trine Rising was a phenomenal first installment in a new fantasy series. With engaging characters, a riveting plot, and well-executed structure, C.K. Donnelly provides a refreshing and engaging read for fantasy lovers.Â