With Wit'ch Fire and Wit'ch Storm, two novels of extraordinary imaginative power and originality, James Clemens staked his claim to being among the finest writers of fantasy to emerge this decade. Now Clemens adds to his masterpiece in the making with Wit'ch War, the dazzling third volume in the epic saga of The Banned and the Banished . . .
Showing 1-1 of the 1 most recent reviews
1 . Awesome!
Posted February 17, 2010 by Heather , BrocktonThis book was phenomenal, I loved every page. I was not able to put these books down until I finished them. These books come HIGHLY recommended to anyone who loves fantasy stories. So intriguing!!
December 31, 1999
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Wit'ch War by James Clemens
With only the crash of waves for company, Elena stood by the
cliff's edge and stared out across the blue seas. At the horizon, the sun
was just dawning, crowning the distant islands of the Archipelago with
rosy halos of mist. Closer to the coast, a single-masted fishing trawler
fought the tide to ply its trade among the many isles and reefs. Over its
sails, gulls and terns argued while hunting the same generous waters.
Nearer still, at the base of the steep bluff, the rocky shore was already
occupied by the lounging bodies of camping sea lions. The scolding barks
of mothers to their pups and the occasional huffing roar of a territorial
bull echoed up to her.
Sighing, Elena turned her back on the sight. Since the seadragons of the
mer'ai had left fifteen days ago, the routines of the coastline were
already returning to normal. Such was the resiliency of nature.
As if to remind her further of the natural world's strength, a stiff
morning breeze tugged at her hair, blowing it into her eyes. Irritated,
she pushed back the waving strands with gloved fingers and attempted to
trap the stray locks behind her ears, but the winds fought her efforts. It
had been over two moons since Er'ril had last cropped her hair, and the
length had grown to be a nuisance--too short to fix with ribbons and pins,
yet too long to easily manage, especially with her hair beginning to show
its curl again. Still, she kept her complaints to herself, fearing Er'ril
might take the shears to her once again.
She frowned at the thought. She was tired of looking like a boy.
Though she had readily accepted the necessity of the disguise while
traveling the lands of Alasea, out here in the lonely wilds of the
Blisterberry bluffs, there were no eyes to spy upon her and no need to
continue the ruse as Er'ril's son--or so she kept telling herself. Yet she
was not so sure her guardian held these same assumptions.
As a caution, Elena had gone to wearing caps and hats when around Er'ril,
hoping he wouldn't notice the growing length of her locks or the fading
black dye that had camouflaged her hair. The deep fire of her natural
color was finally beginning to reappear at the roots.
She pulled out her cap from her belt and corralled her hair under it
before hiking back up the coastal trail to the cottage. Why the appearance
of her hair should matter so much to her she could not put into words. It
was not mere vanity, though she could not deny that a pinch of pride did
play a small role in her subterfuge with Er'ril. She was a young woman,
after all, and why wouldn't she balk at appearing as a boy?