This is a trilogy in the works for quite some time. Writing every day isn’t always in the cards, but there are over 100 pages completed in the first book. Enjoy the excerpt!
Prologue
“Over broken glass, he stood for what seemed an eternity at the door, waiting for them to come and tell him the secrets of the world. When the door opened, it had been many years, and he was unprepared. Someone knew what they were doing, and he found that he no longer wanted to know.”
The rider flashed across the plains, where the sun chased the shadows from the dust and sand. Suffocating from the heat, shirt sticking to his chest and back; sweat pouring over his brow, he couldn’t make the horse move any faster. He rode harder, willing the horse to make haste toward home. The Bone Citadel stood short miles in the distance; a dark silhouette among the golden wasteland and yellow-orange-pink hues of the dimming sky. The tower of the castle reached into the sky as a hand for the heavens. Renewed at the sight of the citadel, he urged his horse harder to kick-up the coarse sand. He knew dark would still fall before he reached his destination, but he wanted to rest. After the chase, the horse was drained, and so was he. The girl escaped. He needed to answer for his mistake. Loyalty drove him onward; fear spurred the horse. As he rode at break-neck pace, he ran through all the ways he went wrong; all the ways to explain to his lord he failed.
The barrens around him left nothing to the imagination. Mainly, desert and plains of short, tufts of brown-gold grass. How could anyone live out here, he thought. The sunsetting made the desert look surreal. Golds, pinks, and whites played around the landscape. Pock-marked around the main road stood waystations and abandoned houses. Getting stuck in the barrens was not for the faint of heart. Up north, people could live rather well as they neared the coast, but not here; not in the south.
The walkway leading to the tower was cold and dank. The silence crippling. His cape brushed against the stone floor, and the clang of his armored boots provided the only sounds to accompany his thoughts as he progressed up the tower. He had walked this path hundreds, if not thousands of times. This time was different. He could begin to hear the heartbeat in his ears, the blood beating the rhythm in his temples. The torches in their sconces along the walls seemed fuzzy pulses to match his heart.
He came to the heavy, oak door. Hesitated. His master would know he was there anyway, but Malaki hesitated nonetheless. Composing himself, he raised his hand to push the door open. The door budged with a strained creak. Shallow light began seeping through the door as it opened further. He inhaled deep to breathe out slowly, maybe too slowly. Before the last whisper of air left his lungs, his master spoke.
“Lieutenant. You seem apprehensive coming in. Why?
“My lord, we have located the girl. She is getting closer to her goal. She’s almost found him.”
“Is that all?”
“No, my lord. We almost apprehended her, but I failed. She got away.”
“You have always brought news to my pleasing and been a trusted adviser and friend.” You seem to surmise that I will punish you for her escape,” he spoke without question; a statement, knowing the heart of his lieutenant.
The softness of his master’s tone took him aback. He expected rage. An out-lash of verbal assaults. Instead, and more horrifying, he was met with casual indifference.
“Yes, sir. That is all. We would’ve captured her, but it seems she receives help, or she’s very good at hiding. I should’ve been better; I’ll be better.”
“Nonsense, Malaki. You have done everything you can do. Rivers is, and always will be, better than she appears to be. We cannot afford to think that she is some trifling girl that will fall into any trap or any ruse we set.”
“Yes, sir. What should we do about her nearness to the door?”
“Nothing at all. You know I don’t believe in prophecies, mere nonsense. The living decide how the great game plays out.”
“So, why hunt her all this time.”
“To not make it easy for her, to make her feel as though she can achieve her goal and that it means something to me.”
“That’s clever, but what if she finds him? What if he is everything that could undo us?”
“Love.”
“Love? I don’t understand.”
“In his world, his reality, he is desperately in love. He hasn’t lived what one would call a normal life there. He has seen pure evil in his life. Or, what passes for pure evil. He won’t fight Rivers’ war. He won’t stay here in Atharia when she finds him.”
“You’re that sure, sir? Rivers is stunning, charismatic, and not to be taken lightly.”
“Men want obedience and blind loyalty.” He paused to measure his next words. “Men want a woman who will always stand by him. Rivers is a wild animal. Marriage, kids; any of that doesn’t interest her. She may have a bleeding heart for humanity and nature, but not for men to love her.”
“You know her well?”
“I do, Malaki. Since she was a child.”
“I didn’t know.” He could not hide the look of shock on his face.
“Don’t look so surprised. I’m older than I look. I did not know her personally. I only met her a handful of times under the guise of a bookkeeper. She was full of life, just as she is now. There’s fire in that girl. She’s the one to worry about. Not this Raven boy and prophesies.”
“What more do you now about him, my lord?”
“That he knows loss and pain. The fight in him is gone. He gave it up and fled to safety with his love. He’s no longer the untamed, righteous young man he used to be. He wants a normal life. All Rivers can promise him his more fighting and despair. He won’t follow her.”
“I hope you’re right. What would you like me to do?”
“I want you to feign that you have followed an incorrect path she led you on. Let her find the door. It is of little consequence.” He turned towards his lieutenant, revealing for the first time since he entered the blue and black mask. The leathered-wood scarred and withered over time, yet still menacing. He looked evil and demonic. As many times as Malaki has seen his master, he still shirked at the sight. “As you wish, Lord Drach.” He bowed back into the hallway of the tower feeling the stifle of his breath finally escape.
10/6 Writing 