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Shadows of Destiny (the Ilduin Minseries)
They have liberated Anahar, but for Tess Birdsong and Archer Blackcloak the war has only begun. Anari slaves are rebelling in Bozandar, and the streets of that sparkling city are wet with blood.
Tess and Archer must forge a peace between the warring races, for only together will their combined armies have the strength to move against the dark forces gathering to the west.
As the scars of old wounds are ripped open, pitting brother against brother and the Ilduin sisterhood against itself, Tess and Archer march into a battle that will determine the world's fate. Guided by snow wolves, moving under the dark cloud of a bitter prophecy, they ready themselves to strike at the enemy's seat of power, a mountain fortress that has never been taken.
But their greatest danger comes from within, for Archer carries a dark secret that may doom them all....
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January 01, 2007
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Excerpt from Shadows of Destiny (the Ilduin Minseries) by Rachel Lee
"And be ye faithful always, one to the other," the priestess intoned quietly.
"And be we faithful always, one to the other," Tom Downey and Sara Deepwell responded.
"The grace of the gods be with you always," the priestess said. "You are now one before this company, before the gods, in this world, and in every world where you may travel."
Tom and Sara kissed. Cilla Monabi could feel the radiant glow in her sister Ilduin's heart, and her own heart shared Sara's joy. Yet this time of joy would be fleeting. Sara met her eye, just for an instant, and nodded. She, too, knew.
But for tonight, they would celebrate.
The stones of Anahar did not sing in celebration, though Cilla could feel the joy of the gods as she walked through the temple. A precious love was joined, and even in a world fraught with war and the black hatred of Ardred, that precious love was worthy of joy.
The marketplace before the temple was adorned with the trappings of a wedding, for in the wake of the war that had taken so many of their number, the Anari longed for just cause to wear their finest, cook their best, sing and dance beneath the stars. Cilla found Ratha at the edge of the crowd, his iridescent blue-black face impassive, his obsidian eyes unreadable.
"Dance with me, cousin," she said.
"I cannot," he replied quietly, almost with shame.
Cilla placed a hand on his strong, muscled, scarred arm. "Look around you, Ratha. The men and women of Monabi Tel are dancing. Giri was their kin, and my own as well."