Draglar’s heart quickened—he felt his scars rip open around his body. For a long moment, he stared at another charging beast, and he did not move. It snarled and lifted its head, bellowing the horrid screams. Make no mistakes. Siberal’s banners will remain. Forsake this treaty and know within thy bowls, Siberal will declare war on Selta with note of her crimes of treason.
“As rain does not fall upward, how did the scrawny queen do it?” asked Keer.
“I did not witness it,” said Draglar, but the Apothecary thrust her talon into the queen’s skinny neck.”
“She is dead?”
“Nae.”
“Damnare!” Keer looked around. “How did she live—”
“Appears the scrawny queen can fall upward.”
Dangerous secrets began to surface when a tower was resurrected in the overgrown ruins of Castle Brun. The first megalithic stone thudded with a loud crack on top of another, summoning the Great Apothecary and her beasts. The young king, his men, and two angry Guardians were reduced to meat—a meal for their enemies at the echoing of that thud. Escaping the fire became a daily trial—but survival required strength none imagined possible.
Set in a realistic twist, brothers, friends, and enemies grow together regardless of whether some must die.
Heroes? They still do not say the word; they are outlaws who found a cause. They are rulers who must choose. They are the enemies now trapped in truths.
From the frozen peaks of the ancient Seven Snow Realms to the outstretched wonders of the Great Lands below them, divided were two worlds—the Snows and the Tribals. Snows born to the power of Nohar were enemies of the lesser Tribals. But Nohar had faded, and secrets rose. The Realms raced to unlock the knowledge of a resurgent power that had grown unstable and dangerous for both worlds.
