Gael, an illicit mage, hunts redemption with Keir, a gifted healer who helps all who cross her path. Gael loves her loyalty to her calling—and to him—but has grown inured to the fact that they will never hold each other in more than high regard.
Together they seek a cure for the accursed affliction that not only erodes their bodies and minds, but keeps them apart. The lodestone that harbors their salvation lies hidden in riverine Hantida.
But when they enter the city’s gates, the dark mystery lairing there catches them in its claws.
Reavers comb Hantida’s streets and squares by night, crashing their gauntleted fists on a residence gate or a workshop door, and taking a child, a grandmother, or some sleeping fool who thought himself safe.
Always the reavers emerge from the imperial palace at the city’s heart and return to it before daybreak with their captive—just one—who is never seen again.
When the bronze-mailed warriors set their sights on a little girl with horrific burns, the travelers come face to face with the threat.
But more than mere violence lurks behind the abductions. They conceal a rotten core of secrets, intrigue, and conspiracy that Gael and Keir must penetrate while hanging on to their lives and holding true to their quest.
A tale of adventure in a vivid world of magic, shadows, and exotic peril.
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EXCERPT FROM SOVEREIGN NIGHT
She and Gael would never really blend in, despite Gael’s adoption of the most popular men’s hairstyle, and despite the fact that they both wore the local side-fastened robes with asymmetric necklines. At least Gael was not quite the flaring torch that was Keir herself, blond, gray-eyed, and milk-pale complected.
She glanced at him again, and this time he was looking at her.
His olive complexion was browner than she’d known it back in the north, no doubt because of the stronger southern sun, but his skin was healthy and firm, which gave her joy. Lines no longer bracketed his hazel eyes or his firm-lipped mouth, as once they had. His aquiline nose was well-proportioned, also unlike when she’d first worked with him. The strong, square bones of his jaw remained unblurred.
He looked the man he ought to.
The treatment she’d administered back in Belzetarn—nearly eighteen moons ago now—was holding, praise Ionan. If only the lodestone she’d wielded—a rare and magical artifact from the ancient past—were still hers to use. But it wasn’t. That lodestone had been ruined.
She straightened her shoulders. That lodestone had been ruined, but at least one other existed. And it was located somewhere in this city. That was why she and Gael were here. If they could obtain it, she could heal Gael and every other individual afflicted with his malady.
Whatever she had to do to obtain this lodestone intact—she would do it.
Gael lifted an eyebrow at her extended scrutiny of him.