For the first time, I’m offering Journey To Landaran for free download on Amazon! December 3 to December 5: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IO7IXSC
Aidah and her twin brother Tavish have always had a knack for getting into trouble. From pie stealing and pranks to hunting for magical creatures, they have always escaped notice in their tiny mountain village.
Aidah begins seeing visions through her brother’s eyes. He’s a Firestarter, gifted with the Talent to control light and heat, destined to become a Sun Mage in the great city of Landaran. But he doesn’t want to leave without his sister. As storm clouds gather, Aidah dreams of a beautiful man, a frightening man, calling to her.
She fears the truth. That she may be developing a Talent of her own, one that will change their lives forever.
The power to read minds. To possess bodies. To travel inside dreams. In the world of Ernid, Spirit is the ultimate power.
Nations will go to war over them.
He saw a man, a man who was not running. The man was dressed for heavy winter travel with a waterskin and travel pouch across his chest, a long gray cloak, sturdy fur-lined boots and—Tavish gasped—a sword, an actual sword at his hip. The only men with weapons were the local militia, and they had spears and maces for the most part. The man carried a bucket but he walked slowly, not running as others were. He stood in the middle of the street, just down from Tavish. Too close.
As their eyes met, the dark-haired man sneered. “So there you are, my young fire Talent.”
Fear gripped Tavish’s body, but his mind raced. At any second the Storm Mage could call lightning to strike at him. He could disperse the heat but not the power of the shock; it would kill him. Tavish could also call fire from the hot embers of the temple, but doing so might cause the mage to strike. From where the militia had charged up the hillside to the treeline he heard shouts and the sounds of battle. There would be no help from them.
He wondered: did the fellow want him alive or dead?
The man walked up, boots crunching on black embers in the snow, dark eyes appraising him from beneath the hood of his gray cloak. The nostrils of his hawkish nose flared. “My name is Madhar. Give yourself up quietly, or I’ll destroy what’s left of your village.”
Ah, so he was wanted alive. Perhaps an attack would be possible, but he had to be careful. Meanwhile, the fire at the silo had been almost put out, and he could see his father and grandfather leading the greater part of the village over to put out the flames at the well. He hurried to put distance between himself and Madhar as the man tried to reach out for him.
“So what are you after? Stealing Talents for Innis or something? You may find me a little more than you can handle, mage.”
He prepared to engulf the two of them in flames, forming protection in his mind for his clothing. As he began to direct the heat, however, a loud voice rang out in his head, and an image flared of another building in flames. He gasped.
“Come here! The house is on fire! Come home and put out the flames and don’t let them capture you!”
It was Aidah, and the inferno was his own home! There was no time to play with this annoying Storm Mage. Aidah and Mother were in trouble.
He pulled, and as flames engulfed himself and the mage, he ran around Madhar towards where his father was shoveling slush on fire consuming the structure of the well. He moved quick enough that a small lightning bolt meant for him hit empty space, but the force of the impact sent him flying into his father’s arms. Behind him he could hear Madhar crying out with surprise and pain as he dove to escape the flames. With no fuel and with Tavish’s concentration broken by his fall, the flames disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Tavish shot to his feet, ignoring curls of smoke wafting up from his clothing and the headache beginning to pound within his skull. “The house is on fire! Aidah sent a call for help, with her mind. And there’s an enemy ma—”
“Halt there! The Emperor wants you.” Madhar, his face covered with soot, staggered forward, sword drawn.
Blinking from the shock of the blast and Tavish’s flying entrance, Darrant stood and moved in front of Tavish, rattled but recovering quickly. He held up his shovel up like a weapon. “Who are you?”
“In the name of Innis, this town has been surrounded, and you are all now prisoners. Give up quietly or face my wrath.” A stroke of lightning lent power to the mage’s words, narrowly missing the mill up on the hillside by the creek.