Category: Fantasy Publisher: Wings ePress
ISBN-10: 9781597052283
Copyright: January 2011
ISBN-13: 9781597056106
War was coming. Years of conspiring with his brother, of hunting for his lost mother, and war was finally coming. With options and allies depleting, Nelek finds that his newest and brashest bodyguard, Trenna Croften, could be the key to everything he’s been fighting for.
Journey with Nelek Vronat Dyngannon, heir to the throne of Kiavana, as he fights to find the legendary Soul Stealer – an ebony blade rumored to have the power to free his lost mother. Dragging Trenna Croften in tow – his newest in a long line of bodyguards – the two struggle to evade the King’s faithful Acolytes.
Their hunt forces them beyond the boundaries of their home and through the Barrier said to lead to death. But all is not as it seems in Kiavana and someone forgot to caution Nelek on the effects of the Blade. Cursed from the moment he takes the sword, Nelek finds he is no longer fighting just for his mother or the throne, but for the right to keep his own soul.
Excerpt
The blood of the Eldur people tasted different from that of a human. The coppery tint was still there, a testament of the fluids vital function in the body structure of its people, only it had a spicy flavor to it as well. Marsali had often described it as drinking a thick, paprika and pepper concoction from a rusty cup. The newer Acolytes gagged on it as the sacrificial bowl was passed around their little circle. She didn’t like having to share the blood. Skinny little Auliere was the only Eldur donor available in Kiavana and the King was reluctant to allow Marsali more than a cup every other week.
Considering his dependence on her life, Marsali could forgive him for that. But it didn’t make her any less annoyed when the bowl returned to her, empty. Three drops pooled together at the center, looking black against the aged wood and quickly fading light. She scooped the remainder with two fingers and promptly stuck them in her mouth, sucking until every last trace was consumed.
With a resigned and heavy sigh she set the bowl aside and moved to the center of the circle. They stood at the top of a hill, far removed from any of the pocket-sized villages dotting Kiavana, one lonely slab of rock just before them. Marsali moved to the craggy boulder, lifting the heavy fabrics of her robes to climb onto it. No one moved to help her, the seven acolytes surrounding her knew better, standing still and quiet as she prepared for the ritual. Even the clouds above them hovered in silence, unwilling to risk her ire.
Positioned on the rock at last, Marsali bowed her head and began the incantation. They were words she only understood by the results they gave, foreign and rumbly but effective. Her robes hung heavy and warm, undisturbed by the breeze that began to push through the long stems of grass racing up the hillside. She closed her eyes and searched internally, her mind following the length of her throat, trailing the procession of Auliere’s precious blood to where it had settled in her chest. There was a moment of struggle as her body attempted to reject the contaminant but Marsali knew how to control it now. She forced her shoulders, arms, neck, lungs, everything not required to stay upright, to relax. Her right index finger twitched, something closed around her throat and for a breathless moment she felt death loom close, a physical presence somewhere outside the circle.
And then she found it, a tiny pin-prick of light amid the growing blackness around her. She focused on it, felt her airway open and dragged in a hoarse, ragged breath. Focusing on the light she became aware of three other lights in the near vicinity, followed sudden and brightly by the fourth and the physical world died away. All that was, was light, the shabby garb of the physical was burned away by the truer colors of each person. Only four of her seven Acolytes had managed to make it through the ritual, each of them varying in brightness. The three who had not made it would be dead, she knew. Not all had the patience it took to accept the blood.
The Kalugu is the third book in the fifteen book series, The Adventures of Lord Belmundus, a remarkable tale of others worlds, strange customs, beauty and warfare; and, in its grips, lands a young celebrity, who has the chaps to play the many parts t
