Kesta had left her heart across the sea. They were at peace, her people saved from slavery, and yet… her soul was uneasy.

Chem lies in chaos, its people suffering as a result of the death of the ruling sorcerers. Refugees flee the cursed Borrows, begging for help from those they had made their enemy. A Queen unknowingly makes a dark, deadly pact, and new powers rise to fill the seats left empty by the Dunham necromancers.

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About the Author

I presently live in the stunning county of Dorset where I’m a cat slave to Wolfe and Piglitt. I spend as much time as I can outside in nature and love exploring and learning about new cultures and languages. I’ve visited Greece, Serbia, Transylvania, Sicily and Norway as well as making several road trips around our beautiful United Kingdom. I paint, sculpt, dabble in photography and do a little archery but most of all – whenever I get a chance – I write.

My writing started from a very young age when I often found myself being the one taking charge of and entertaining all my younger cousins. They loved to hear my stories and although they mostly called for ghost stories it was fantasy I fell in love with when I read The Lord of the Rings when I was ten. I went on to write stories and short ‘books’ for my friends through school and college; then one evening whilst I was waiting for my aunt and uncle to visit an image came to my mind of a boy sitting beneath a bridge. I didn’t know who he was or why he was there, but from exploring those questions ‘The Wind’s Children’ trilogy blossomed and grew with roots going back into his far history as well as stretching out to his future. The boy’s name was Tobias.

I have since left Tobias’s world of ‘Naris’ to explore the Valley with Feather in the ‘Hall of Pillars’ which is now available through Amazon. I am now presently finding my way through Elden, the beautiful Fulmer islands, the ravaged Borrows and haunted Chem with Kesta Silene; a shamaness of sorts with a big journey ahead of her. I hope you come along to share her story and join her adventure; she needs you and you won’t regret it.

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This extract takes place at Fulmer hold, on the Fulmer Islands. Their leader, Dia Icante, has just finished dealing with the arrival of a boat full of refugees from the Borrows, a people who were decimated by the necromancers of Chem, but who had also been the enemy of the Fulmers.

When she was alone again, Dia went to the window and gazed out across the sea, placing one hand against the cool glass. She caught her own reflection, her frown increasing the lines around her eyes, before her gaze went further, toward the horizon. Far down below the waves shushed rhythmically against the base of the cliff. Her thoughts turned to her daughter and Dia hoped that she was happy, that she and Jorrun had had the sense to find some kind of compromise with which they could live. She couldn’t quite throw off the knot of anxiety in her stomach. She spoke into the empty room. ‘Doroquael, are you here?’

There was a pop and hiss and shadows danced across the room. Turning she saw the fire-spirit hovering near the fire grate.

‘I’m here, Dia.’

‘You heard we have more refugees from the Borrows?’

Doroquael made a crackling sound that may have been words in his own language. ‘I heard. How many now?’

‘Nearly two hundred in all.’ She moved away from the window and sat on the bed. ‘It will put a huge strain on our resources, but could mean if the Borrows ever recover, they won’t attack us as they used to. Is there any way for your brothers to know when the spells the necromancers cast will fade and the land feel at peace again?’

‘There are no Drakes on the Borrowss.’

‘Because of the spells?’

Doroquael grew larger and brighter, but quickly shrank again. ‘No. The Borrows belongs to the ssea, it’s not a place Drakess can live. We can vissit from our own realm, but not sstay long.’

She tucked her feet up under her on the bed and leaned against the footboard to gaze at him. ‘Are you saying the Borrows are ruled by water spirits?’

‘Yes, those of the ssea.’

‘Do such spirits exist around our islands? I’ve never felt one.’

Doroquael made himself small. ‘No. These islands belong to fire-walkers.’

Dia looked down at the woven carpet that covered some of the wooden boards. ‘I wonder if I could talk to them, though, if they could do something about this blood curse?’

‘Don’t talk to them, Dia!’ Doroquael darted about in a mad circle. ‘They are dangerouss!’

She made a noise in her throat, neither agreement nor denial. It was something to think about. She stood up and made her way over to the wash stand and leaned over to splash water on her face. Two green eyes stared back up at her. She drew back, heart hammering, her hand going to her chest.

‘What iss it?’ Doroquael demanded, darting closer.

Swallowing, Dia took a step forward. She tensed, holding her breath before she bent her neck and peered back into the bowl. All she saw was her own reflection, one blue eye, one brown.



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