Turning the Storm

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Overview

powerful new voice in fantasy fiction, the acclaimed author of Fires of the Faithful continues her enthralling epic of persecution and war, passion and triumph, and of the brave young woman who must succeed in...

Turning the Storm

She is called musician, rebel, soldier, legend. After months of leading an uprising against the treacherous religious order of the Fedeli and the ruling Circle of Mages, young Eliana is known throughout the land. Striking from the blighted wastelands, her army of reformers has grown in number--adding liberated slaves to its ranks. Driven by their beliefs in the Old Way, Eliana and the soldiers of the Lupi stand on faith alone.

But faith won't save the Lupi from traitors in their midst--or from the magical fires of the mages. Seeing her soldiers reduced to ashes around her, Eliana takes a desperate gamble: she steps down from command. Then, armed with stolen orders to attend one of the musical ensembles within the Imperial enclave, she disguises herself as a boy, takes up her violin, and heads straight into enemy territory. And now the girl-turned-general adds another title to her rank: spy.

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Author Information

Bio of Naomi Kritzer

NAOMI KRITZER grew up in Madison, Wisconsin, a small lunar colony populated mostly by PhDs. She moved to Minnesota to attend college. After graduating with a BA in Religion, she became a technical writer. She now lives in Minneapolis with her family. Fires Of The Faithful was her first novel, followed shortly thereafter by Turning The Storm, Freedom's Gate, and Freedom's Apprentice.

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Additional Info

Imprint

Spectra

Filesize

1.70 MB

Number of Pages

384

eBook ISBN

9780307492173

Awards

  • Gaylactic Spectrum Awards

Excerpt from: Turning the Storm by Naomi Kritzer

Chapter One The doom of the leader is to lead. -The Journey of Gèsu, chapter 4, verse 10. Eliana? Eliana!" Giovanni stared down at me, flushed in the late summer heat. I squinted up at him and he sat back, looking relieved. "That was one hell of a fall." I groaned and lay still for a moment. Two months of leading an army-two more successful battles, even-and I still couldn't stay on my horse and reload a crossbow at the same time. I pushed myself up with my elbows. "Nothing hurts," I said. That was blatantly false, but nothing especially hurt. "I must have just had the wind knocked out of me." I turned to glare at Forza, my horse. She had skidded to a stop shortly after throwing me, and was staring at me with wary sheepishness from farther down the hill. "It's getting late, anyway," he said. "Let's just make a quick circuit around the hill and head in." "Where'd the bow land?" "Got it," Giovanni said. I stood up and Giovanni handed it back to me. "Let's go." He whistled for Stivali, the horse he'd claimed from the Ravenessi stables, and we remounted, turning to head back to the army encampment. "Hold on," I said, reining in Forza. "Who the hell is that?" Giovanni turned to look north and squinted at the figure walking toward us. "I don't know." He unslung his own crossbow and cocked it. "But whoever it is, he's alone." The man headed straight toward us. He seemed to be carrying weapons, but they weren't drawn. I loaded my crossbow-easy enough now that Forza was standing still-and checked behind us, in case the man was supposed to be a distraction. I saw nobody, but stayed on my guard. We had an outer ring of sentries, but this man, at least, had gotten past them unchallenged. "Hello there!" the man said, saluting us as he approached. "I come in peace, to meet with your leaders. I assume you are soldiers of the Lupi?" Giovanni's eyes narrowed and he squinted down the sights of his crossbow. "Maybe." I decided to let Giovanni go ahead and intimidate the stranger. He wouldn't fire without cause, and I found the stranger's breezy manner irritating. "What do you want with the Lupi?" I demanded. The stranger bowed low, showing off a freshly sunburned neck. "My name is Felice. I have come from Cuore as the delegate of the reformers." Giovanni lowered his crossbow just a hair. "Fire falls from the sky," he said challengingly. "And the land weeps," Felice said. Giovanni lowered his bow completely. "I guess you are who you say you are. We're-" "-pleased to make your acquaintance," I said, cutting Giovanni off. "We'll take you back to the camp." I swung down from my horse and confiscated Felice's visible weapons-a decorative sword and an ornately carved crossbow. I was not so impressed by a two-year-old password that I was going to tell this man that he'd just met both generali of the Lupi army, alone. For all we knew, he was a spy on a suicide mission to kill us both. "You can ride double with me." Felice mounted Forza effortlessly and I climbed up awkwardly behind him. I regretted not making him ride with Giovanni, but said nothing, not wanting to look foolish. We rode back toward camp. Felice even smelled like an aristocrat: clean, despite his long walk, with a very faint whiff of perfume. His tunic was made out of a delicate fabric that caught the light oddly, covered with a well-tooled padded leather vest. His hands carried the light calluses of a gentleman-fencer, like Giovanni-except Giovanni did some real work these days. Back in camp, I dismounted and passed the horses off to Vitale, the youngest of the Lupi. He'd joined us when we'd liberated t