Work is well underway on the continuing story of the Eveningshades and their friends. While there is still much that needs to be done before the second story is complete, please enjoy reading the prologue and excerpt to the new (and as yet untitled) book.
Prologue
The blade was so sharp there was no resistance as it slid through the flesh. No sound was audible. Lothian Greenleaf closed his eyes. He could not bear to look upon the scene any longer. The pain and anguish in the eyes of his friends tore through the very fabric of his being. It was finally over now, even though he had hoped it would not have to end this way.
There was nothing that could be done now by himself or anyone else, living or immortal. Lothian bowed his head in a silent prayer. He had no clear idea of what it was he was praying for; he just prayed that the Devine Spirits would intervene in some way. But this time, in his heart, he knew that it was even too late for intervention. What was done was done and no one, not even one of the Devine, could go back and alter what had already happened. Lothian knew that to be the truth. If there had been any other way, he knew the Devine Spirits would have already interceded.
The elf looked up and blinked away tears. The feeling of dampness on his lashes and cheeks startled him. It was the first time since his death, over a decade ago, that Lothian had shed physical tears.
“Morgana?” Bronwyn hissed as his eyes adjusted to his new surroundings.
“I am here,” she stepped out from the shadows. In the sick light of the Anir she looked absolutely horrifying. Her skin was as white as linen. Dark circles shown prominently under her eyes and her lips appeared to be drained of all color. Morgana Eveningshade looked like a walking dead woman.
Bronwyn’s beak hung open in shock. He was vaguely aware of the others, now standing behind him. They were also looking with horror on the grim Morgana before them.
“You act as if you have seen a ghost,” Morgana chuckled lightly.
“Sister, what have you done?” Francesca said.
“She had to do it,” Meadowstar said, realization dawning in her melodic voice, “Achais knew it.”
Taryn nodded, “That’s why he waited to show her to her own room last. I thought nothing of it last night, but now I see.”
“Someone had to,” Morgana said, “’Will you die for them?’ was the question asked in the shared vision. I have made my answer and it was yes, I will.”
Francesca sobbed as Morgana pulled her tangled hair away from her shoulder. There on her neck were two small holes.
“I’ll kill the bastard,” Iceis growled. She unsheathed Vextara and spun back toward the archway. Taryn grabbed her arm and shook his head.
Taryn nodded once. As they turned to go, the soft scratching stopped and the unmistakable sound of a sharp, wheezing inhale halted them in their tracks.
Too late, Achais conveyed.
The worm swung around its upper body. Beady black eyes stared from the mottled skin and settled on Taryn and Achais. A gaping maw appeared, dangling open and dripping slime at the site of them. Taryn braced himself for whatever terrible noise the thing was going to make, but was shocked when the only sound that came from that open, toothy hole was a throaty, choking whisper. For the first time in a decade or more, Achais felt goose bumps break out across his skin.
With speed that belayed its bloated sized, the great worm circled and started toward Taryn and Achais. Quickly, Taryn nocked an arrow and let it fly. Another, angrier throaty sound came from the beast as its dense, fatty flesh seemed to absorb the arrow. Taryn swallowed against the bile rising in his throat at the creature’s disgust and loosed another arrow. It was absorbed into the soft body as well.
Achais leapt forward with a long sword in his hand. As soon as the worm drew close, he jumped aside, avoiding the rows of pointed teeth and slashed at the unprotected side of the beast. The sword cut through the worm as if it were cutting through butter. The worm let out a surprised, and pained wheeze, filled with malice.
Achais tried to pull the sword free, but the slimy black blood seemed to be pulling it in. After several yanks, Achais had to relinquish his blade. He watched in sickened horror as it was sucked into the oozing wound to the hilt. He flew backwards and away just in time to avoid angry, gnashing teeth. The worm closed the distance with uncanny speed as Achais found himself trapped by a wall of impenetrable briers.