I'm so excited to share with you the cover of my next book in the White Road Chronicle series.
AND...
The first chapter, too.
The manuscripts are back from my editors and I'm in the process of cleaning up whatever last boo-boos they've found. So, I can confidently say you all should be looking for Ignited's release before the end of February.
Until then, here's a sneak peek.
Look for the announcement newsletter when Ignited goes live. It'll be soon. I'm as eager to get this story to you as you are to get it. Trust me. =)
Blessings!
Chapter One
The
ball of light Alyra held suspended in the small cell grew dim from her weariness.
She breathed out a long sigh and willed the ball of luminance to move through
the rusty bars separating her from Tarek. He still slept on the cold, dirt
floor, his linen shirt stained and leather pants covered in dust. He wore a
vest with a small White Tree emblem on the right breast though he still didn’t have the medallion marking him as one of
King Shaydon’s people.
With
his arm thrown over his tranquil face, he lay perfectly still aside from the
occasional twitch or mumbling as he dreamed.
Reaching
through the bars, Alyra’s fingers barely brushed his blond tendrils curling around his
forehead. She leaned against the cool iron, remembering the many nights they’d
met together in the woods, hoping they’d not be discovered by one of Darnel’s
guardsmen. Tarek had taught her to fish and how to set traps to catch small
game. He’d instructed her on shooting a bow. He’d worked hard to prepare her to
survive when they escaped.
What
had gone wrong? Even though she had most of her memories back, finally, the
last months she’d lived in Racah remained in a fog. She’d wanted to ask Tarek during their long
hours in the Curian dungeon, but feared angering him. Finally, they’d been
reunited, and for the first time in a long many months, she felt as if a big
piece of her heart had been set back in place. She didn’t want to ruin that
with questions that might stir more awful memories.
Not
only did she remember their training times together, but she recalled their
stolen kisses, as well, which caused a pleasant warmth to heat her chest. The
hours sitting under the stars held in his arms brought a smile to her face. Now
everything made sense. Why he’d followed her around like a hungry puppy. Why he’d risked so
much to keep her safe. Why he’d traveled out of his way to be with her when she
was sent to visit the dragons ….
Because
he loved her.
And
she loved him.
Tarek
gave a startled jerk and bolted up to a sitting position. “Where…?” He looked around in bewilderment.
Like her, he probably had trouble accepting where and what they’d tumbled into
three days ago. The strange cliff-side pit she’d fallen into that turned out to
be a library. They been left in this damp, underground chamber without a chance
to speak to anyone, or ask questions. Where had they taken DezPierre, her
Okbold friend who had saved her from several scrapes over the last couple of
years?
She
didn’t even have her pack
with her Ledge-o-graph, the marvelous book which allowed her to communicate
with her friends currently scattered across Alburnium.
Lotari
and Stitch, the centaurs, had to be worried out of their minds, not to mention
her brother, Ethan, who was also stuck in Wilderland. At least, she hoped Ethan
remained with the centaurs and their guardian, the Elderad Riyah.
Alyra
made her ball of light grow brighter to catch Tarek’s attention. “We’re still in the dungeon.”
She’d lost all sense of the time of day,
outside of counting how many visits the guard, always dressed in a brown cloak
with a hood covering his head, had entered with food and water, but no words.
Never any words. And the deliverer of the food would only push the tray through
the slot along the floor then rush back out, covered head ducked so she
couldn’t see if he was one of them, or not. Surely, they were all of the lost
race. The Curians.
She
wanted more than anything to write Katrina and tell her that they had truly
found the remnant. Before being locked in the prison, Alyra had momentarily seen
a few of them with their swirling marks covering their faces and strange,
drooping ears. The elders’ ears nearly touched their shoulders.
Tarek
turned to face her, but the shackles on his ankle kept him from getting any closer.
He reached out, and they were able to clasp hands. “Have you slept, love? You need your rest,
too.”
“My mind is racing too much to sleep. I was
thinking about our life in Racah. Before Dean, the Messenger showed up.”
He
smiled and managed to bring the tips of her fingers to his lips. “Those were some of my best times, despite
that wretched land and king.”
Bristles
covered his cheek and tickled as she lightly stroked his face. When she made to
pull back, he caught her hand again and didn’t let go. “I’m growing impatient with them. I think we need to
go ahead and break ourselves out of here.”
Alyra
motioned her free hand at the chain bound around his foot. “Did you say you could get rid of that?”
“Just say the word, and I can get us out of
here.”
Chuckling,
Alyra shook her head. “Just
remove the shackles off so we can sit closer. Maybe when they come in with our
next meal they’ll see we are growing impatient with them.”
“Do you think they know what I can do?”
Tarek removed the small dagger from inside his boot that the Curians missed
when they stripped them of their weapons. A flash of light lit up the small
enclosure.
Alyra
noticed there were two more cells, and she wondered when they had needed to use
them. Did they often have visitors drop in on them?
“I’m not sure. They know I’m an Illuminate
because they saw my medallion. Not sure what they think about you.”
“Most likely that I’m the traitor scum who
doesn’t have one.” A loud clank echoed off the granite walls when the shackle
broke loose. “Which is probably why they will leave us here to rot.”
“I’m sure they are just trying to decide
how to approach us. That’s why I don’t want to threaten them.” Alyra slid both
arms through the bars and waved him to scoot closer. Once she could wrap her
arms around his wide shoulders, her nerves calmed considerably. “That’s
better.” Their foreheads pressed
together in the gap and her senses filled with his pine, woodsy scent she
remembered so well.
“This is better.” He brushed his lips
against her hairline. “If I can stay like this, I might reconsider my plan to
bring this mountain down on their stubborn, pride-filled heads.”
“Hey, they’re no different than Katrina.
She’s good and kind. They’ll come around. Eventually.”
Tarek
let out a derisive snort. “Miss K is completely different. She wasn’t brought up with
them. If it weren’t for her marks, I never would have believed she was a
Curian. She’s nothing like the stories I’ve been told.”
“You knew about them? I mean before you met
Katrina?” Alyra wondered at his name for her friend, then assumed that’s what
all the folks of Little Delve must call her.
“My mother used to tell us stories about
Alburnium until Pops ordered her to stop filling our heads with those fairy
tales.” His voice lowered with anger at the mention of his father. Alyra didn’t
care for the man much, either.
Tarek
sighed, his warm breath washing over her ear and sending delightful tingles
down her neck. “I’m
ready to get out of here, love. What do you suppose they’ve done with
DezPierre? Why won’t they tell us something?”
“I don’t know. I’m worried, too. What about
that army surrounding Wilderland? What if they attack? I… I hope Ethan stays
close to Riyah and doesn’t try to find us.”
Tarek
pulled away, causing the chill from the cold floor to invade her momentary
warmth. “Look,
we have to do something. We’ve wasted enough time down here waiting to see what
they’ll do. I say we make them speak to us. I can get us out of here.”
“Tare, I don’t want to frighten them. We
need to...” The sound of a creaking door opening silenced her. They both stood.
Alyra let her dim light fade. For a moment they were plunged into darkness
before a lantern light flickered on the walls. The same man who always kept his
head covered entered, wheeling in a cart with their trays on it. Tarek released
her and rushed for the door, despite her warnings to not hurt him.
“Look, you,” Tarek demanded, his hand
thrusting through the bars as he pointed at the attendant. “We need to speak to
your elders. Right now, or…”
The
man’s head jerked up, his
eyes wide. He opened his mouth but no words came out, only a stump of a tongue.
He was a mute. That explained why he never spoke to them.
Alyra caught sight the lines on his face
indicating he was also a Curian. She hurried to the door, but her chains
hindered her from getting too close. “Listen, sir. We mean no harm. But we need to speak with someone
in authority.” She reached for her medallion. “I’m a representative of King
Shaydon. Please, tell them we are here to help. We mean no harm, I swear.”
The
man looked from Alyra to Tarek. He reached for the first tray and slid it under
her door. But Tarek, free of his bonds, must have frightened him, because he
also slid Tarek’s
tray through her slot. Then taking his torch, he rushed back out, leaving them
both in darkness again.
Tarek
slammed his palm against the bars, sending up sparks.
“Tarek,” Alyra warned. “Don’t lose
control.” She hadn’t seen him in action yet, but if he could do the things
Riyah had wanted her to do, she wasn’t sure she was ready to see his Empowering
abilities just yet. She sent up another ball of light that floated near the
ceiling between their cells. Thrusting her arms through the bars that separated
them, she motioned for him to return to her. “We’ll be all right, Tare. Come
here. Let’s eat and think this through.”
He
pulled his knife from his boot again. “Fine but I’m removing your chains, too. Come closer to the bars.”
She
tried not to wince when the blade lit up. He had trouble reaching his muscled
arm through the slot between the bars, but he did manage to cut off the metal bonds,
allowing blood to flow down into her foot again.
“Thank you.” She gathered the food and
water bags from the tray and passed his meal to him. “I’m getting tired of
these leafy wrap meals. What is this inside, do you think?”
Tarek
shook his head, his brows still furrowed over his sullen face. “Probably something they can grow
underground. I didn’t see any signs of life above. I’m curious beyond belief
over how they managed to survive down here so many years.”
Alyra
bit into the wrap. There was some kind of meat with a gamy taste, perhaps
venison or rabbit, surrounded by a creamed nut and root mixture. The whole
thing was tucked into a large section of some kind of lettuce. She didn’t find the meal unpleasant, only unusual
and somewhat bland. How did they manage to grow food without being seen?
For
a while they ate in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. When Tarek
finished his, he wiped his fingers on the cloth napkin they’d provided. “This is it. If nobody comes
to speak with us by the time they serve us our next meal, I’m unlocking our
cells and we’re going to find DezPierre and get out of here.”
Alyra
swallowed down her bite. “I sure hope they didn’t hurt him.” Her Okbold friend could be
pretty obstinate when provoked. He looked like a stump of a tree with sharp,
twig-like fingers that could do a person great damage if the creature had the
notion to cause harm. She watched Tarek for a long moment and knew from the
resolute set of his jaw he wouldn’t be persuaded to wait any longer than he
already had.
Finally,
she gave a nod. “Very
well. If it comes down to a fight, I can throw up a shield so they can’t hurt
us. And we will not hurt them.” She
pushed a chunk of bread through the bars to him. “If they don’t seem willing to talk, we’ll find Dez and leave.
At least, we know where they are. I’ll find a way to speak to Riyah, and maybe
he can bring Issah here or come himself.”
“You can’t hear him now?”
She
shook her head. When she’d lit up while trying to escape her kidnappers, she’d heard her
guardian loud and clear inside her head when he ordered her to stop glowing.
“I’ve not been able to hear him since they brought us here. I’m not sure why.”
His
head bobbed once as he considered her words. “Let’s hope that army hasn’t charged into Wilderland and
attacked. Though that might explain why he isn’t speaking to you.”
A
shudder raked down Alyra’s back. She didn’t want to think about that possibility. Her
old master, King Darnel, wouldn’t be pleased to find a Meeting Hall had been
built in Wilderland, where he’d always gone to stock his army with creatures.
When
they finished eating, Tarek settled next to the bars. “Come sit by me. I want you to get some
rest. I’ll keep watch now and wake you if anything happens.”
Alyra
wasn’t sure she’d actually be
able to sleep, but weariness hung on her like a hundred pounds of chains. She’d
need to try if they were going to attempt an escape. Oh, please King Shaydon, let the Curians see reason, she silently
petitioned, hoping the King would hear her way down in this underground
dungeon.
Riyah
insisted the King heard his children wherever they were. So, with that thought
easing her fears, she rested her head against the bars and let Tarek’s arms circle her shoulders. His closeness
soothed her fears, and his hummed song stilled her rampant thoughts. He
tenderly stroked her hair, lulling her to sleep and she knew no more until the
cells filled with a brilliant light.
Fighting
her way back to the land of wakefulness, Alyra hoped Tarek hadn’t let loose his Empowering light. But when
she opened her eyes and blinked against the brightness, she saw he also
slumbered, rested against the bars like her.
“See?” said a younger man dressed in
leather like a guard. He pointed toward them. “Samuel wrote that they’ve broken
their chains. Which one do you think did it?”
A
group of hooded figures stood outside the cells, each carrying a lantern, which
explained why the dungeon was so well lit now. Tarek was on his feet in a
moment, the dagger in his hands, but not glowing. Alyra also stood and slowly
moved toward the door of her cell.
“We mean no harm. Please, sirs, give us a
chance to explain how we came to be here.”
One
stepped forward— an elder, she guessed from his stooped frame and glazed eyes
that were nearly completely white. “Let the Illuminate girl speak, Sirth. Perhaps she can shed
light on our current situation. Once we know all the facts, then we can make an
informed decision on how to proceed.”
“Father Rowel, please,” said a younger one
holding his arm. A female, from her voice.
Alyra
peered at the face beneath the hood. The girl looked just like Katrina, with
her dark hair and narrow face. “I have a Curian friend who is right about your age. She also
has faint markings and your color of hair.”
“Impossible,” rumbled the one they called
Sirth. “We are the only survivors.”
“No.” Alyra clutched the bars to still her
trembling hands. “There is a Curian who escaped the attack. I think her parents
were warned and sent her away before it happened. Her name is Katrina and she
was raised by a family living in the northern Semitamon Mountains. She now
lives in The Halls of Knowledge.”
The
girl gasped. “But
the Halls, they’ve been destroyed.”
Tarek
moved toward the edge of his own cell, causing everyone to take a cautious step
backward. “Not
all of the Halls. There’s a portion on the southern summit that’s been
preserved. The library is still intact and now in use. And the people of Little
Delve are—”
Sirth
hit his walking stick on the bars. “Hush! You have no voice here, unmarked one. We will listen to
the one bearing the King’s mark and no other.”
“Stop it,” Alyra snapped. “He lived there
with Katrina. He knows what’s going on, more than I do.”
Sirth
glowered. “Impossible!
An outlander in our Halls? What is this foolery?”
The
elder moved forward with the girl still supporting him. “Let us hear their story, Sirth. Patience
is a virtue we must work hard to achieve on a daily basis. Come, dear
light-bearer, finish your story.” He patted her hand, and Alyra wondered if he
was able to see her or not. His cloudy eyes seemed focused on her.
She
swallowed down the nervous lump forming in her throat. “My name is Alyra. I’m from Belluvita and
belong to the House of Lamb. This is Tarek of the House of Lion. Sir, we’ve both
escaped from Racah and are familiar with the Dark King’s schemes. We saw his
army approaching Wilderland moments before I accidentally tumbled into your
library.” She patted her chest with her free hand. “For the past several
months, I’ve been living in the ancient forest with my brother and centaur
friends, helping them build a Meeting Hall for King Shaydon.” She paused and
pointed to Tarek, just in case the elder could see her. “My friend Tarek, he
sought sanctuary in the Denovo Meeting Hall. Prince Issah assigned him to help
our Curian friend, Katrina, reclaim the Halls of Knowledge.”
Jerin and Carah, her warrior friends, were
there now, helping.
The
one named Sirth, dressed like a soldier, gave a derisive laugh and shook his
head. “Such
lies they’ve come up with.”
“Please, sir,” Alyra pressed on, ignoring
his scoffing. “If you’d allow me to have my belongings back, I can contact my
friends and warn them about the army that approaches.”
The
elder stroked the long white hairs growing off his chin. “The Ledge-o-graph has been making much
racket. We’ve sought a way to silence it, but I see the creator of the journal
has put a protection over the device so no one can read it except the owner. Is
my assumption correct in this matter?”
“Yes, sir. I can fix it, sir. If you’ll
allow me to come out. And I need to know how my Okbold friend is. Please, you
haven’t caused him harm, have you?”
Sirth
stepped between her cell and the Elder. “See? She admits to being associated with the miscreant
creature.” He turned to her cage and added, “We’ve secured him so he can’t hurt
anyone. But my patience with him wanes, girl.”
“Alyra, sir.
My name is Alyra.” She stared back at him, matching his stern expression with
one of her own. She’d come too far and been through too much to allow people to
intimidate her anymore. “Please hear us out, sirs. We’ve been looking all over
for you. Issah has been searching, too. He wants you back in his Kingdom and we
can help you get there. If you’ll only give us a chance.”
“Issah?” The Elder whispered the prince’s
name with a longing in his ancient voice. “Oh, how I’ve missed the connection
we once had with Aloblase. Back in the day, we had a portal—”
“It’s been reopened,” Tarek interjected. “I
helped rebuild the pool with the help of the townsfolk. We all worked together
and repaired the assembly halls. The portal has been reopened and the Logorians
have traveled through. They’ve come to help.”
A
collective gasp escaped from the group. Even Sirth seemed taken aback by this
news for a moment until his stony-faced doubt returned. “Father Rowel, please see reason. They even
admitted to their association with the Dark Lord. My guess is they are his
spies and accidentally found a way in. We must do with them as we’ve done with
the other trespassers.”
The
girl supporting Rowel shook her head. “You do not mean, Sirth, to toss them into the pit without a
proper trial, do you?”
He
glowered at the girl. “I
see no reason to waste the Council’s time with these lying trespassers. Yes,
that is exactly what I propose.”
