Truthsong
Songmaker
Book 2
Elisabeth Hamill
Genre: YA Fantasy
Publisher: Fire and Ice YA
Date of Publication: July 26, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-68046-326-2
Number of pages: 236
Word Count: 80K
Cover Artist: Caroline Andrus
Book Description:
The long awaited sequel to SONG MAGICK
When Telyn’s song magic freed ancient spirits of the Wood, it also awakened a long-slumbering evil. Now she and her beloved Mithrais must battle a spreading shadow that ignites crippling fear, and deal with the unexpected consequences of magic’s return.
More danger arrives with a royal delegation to the forest realm, sweeping Telyn back into court intrigue and the sights of a murderous lord. Mithrais may be forced to choose between his service to the Wood or the obligations of his royal blood.
As Telyn’s bond with Mithrais grows, she is torn between her love for him and the freedom of a wandering bard’s life. But when dark magic plunges the Wood into chaos, she must balance the two halves of her heart—or the Fates may take Mithrais from her forever.
Amazon Smashwords BN Fire and Ice
Excerpt 1:
Even
in the quiet hour before sunset, the Wood filled with music.
One
didn’t need the ears of a bard to hear it in the rhythmic jingle of Bessa’s
harness, or when doves sang lullabies to each other through the branches. A
heartspeaker couldn’t fail to miss the new counterpoint percussion of magic, like
the steady, silent beat of a drum.
But
underneath it all, only Telyn knew the song of the Wood itself.
A
secret composition of chords and harmonies existed beneath the ambient sound of
leaves. Sometimes it skirled with a wild and unruly air, and other times echoed
with heartbreaking sweetness through the glades. It changed with the landscape,
never the same melody twice. It would rush past her in waves, or sing in
eloquent whispers almost beyond her scope of hearing. Even when she wasn’t
listening, murmurs of song invaded her subconscious like a child humming in
hushed tones.
“Seed-voice!”
And
in not-so-hushed tones.
Telyn
pulled back on Bessa’s reins. The grey horse snorted and slowed to a stop. One
of the newer Gwaith’orn hailed her—the truly Old Ones seldom used such common
means to get her attention. For those reborn in the wake of the great spell
cast in the Circle, it remained a new and exciting thing to be able to speak
aloud. As a result, they were impulsive and sometimes a little rude.
The
resonant vibrations marked the nearby presence of the tree folk. She caught her
breath in surprise when the brush on her right parted in invitation. Bessa
snorted, turning the wagon from the stony road into the temptation of soft,
green grass. Telyn laughed and gave the mare her head. “Well, that’s settled
then. Are you ready to camp, my dear?”
The
sun lowered upon the tree-broken horizon, ready to slip behind the mountains.
Light and darkness balanced in equality for the moment. But shadow always lay
in the deepest parts of the Wood, gray-green areas that seldom saw a shaft of
sunlight. Here the Gwaith’orn held court. Once trapped by an ancient spell, her
magic and life force bought their freedom. Telyn advanced without fear, for
these strange creatures were now her allies.
All
around her, the Wood pulsed with the promise of magic, but the Gwaith’orn
remained silent. She sensed mischief, and her mouth quirked upwards in a smile.
A
new tree, with bone-white upper limbs and wide green leaves, stood in the lee
of the old, sprung from the roots of its ancestor. Telyn pulled the wagon into
the clearing. Somewhere beyond, the sound of water announced the presence of
the river she followed south from Ilparien. She dismounted the bench seat and
walked into the heart of the grove, leaving Bessa content to crop the grass.
“Well,
I’m here.” Her hand brushed the star-shaped leaves at head level, the tree
grown to a startling twelve feet in less than two months. They all grew with
unnatural speed—nearly five hundred of them at the last count. “What do you
need, young-Old-One?”
The
voice came from behind and made her jump, even though she thought herself
prepared. “You might have passed us by and not known, Telyn.”
She
whirled. The being that stood at her shoulder gave a laugh like the trill of a
bird’s song, high and sweet. Its honey-colored eyes crinkled in amusement.
“Not
known what?” she asked. It was still extraordinary to see the Gwaith’orn take
human-like shapes in the groves. The young ones seemed to revel in it, although
they could only manifest within the root-spans of the old trees. Early on, she
started to call these manifestations “sprites” because of their playful nature.
The name was now indelible in Tauron lore.
Slender
white limbs gestured with the grace of breeze-caught branches. “Mithrais is not
far away. We believe he will look for you.”
Telyn
grinned in delighted surprise. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll stay here
tonight.”
Mithrais
and his fellow Magians were busy testing the magical knowledge bestowed upon
them by the Gwaith’orn. There were also more domestic reasons her lifemate had been
unable to join her. These obligations called Telyn to turn her wheels south and
begin the three-day journey to the northern gate of Cerisild.
Time
had passed without discernible measure in a joyful blur of music and
storytelling. She brought the news of magic’s return to the people of the Wood,
the shelter of the deep forest more like home by the day. But the passage of
weeks meant the inevitable approach of midsummer and the arrival of a royal
delegation.
She
began to remove Bessa’s harness to allow the horse a well-deserved rest. “There
are visitors coming to Cerisild,” she told the sprite while she worked. “Have
you sensed anyone entering the Wood who might mean me harm?”
“None who seek you. There is a mind
full of chaos. It is getting closer, but we sense no threat there.”
She suspected this mind belonged to
Vuldur, Lord of the East. An unfortunate, deadly history lay between them.
Telyn would never be able to change the fact she killed his son in an act of
self-defense. She had just begun to forgive herself for the accidental spell
that allowed an already charged situation to escalate. Vuldur only knew his
heir was dead—and who was responsible.
“That may be the man who sent the
bounty hunters.” Telyn watched the sprite as it followed the erratic flight of
a moth through the grove. “I don’t think he will try to harm me himself, but I
do fear him.”
“Few can harm you now, Seed-voice,
unless you allow it.” It chased the moth to the edge of the root span and
watched it flutter off. “We have given you the knowledge of what to do with
your magic to keep yourself safe.”
“And I thank you.” There had been
little opportunity to test the knowledge left imprinted in her mind, a gift of
gratitude from the Gwaith’orn. She didn’t like the thought of using song magic
as a weapon. It was contradictory to the self-imposed rules she held concerning
her unique powers. “I hope I don’t meet anything my blade can’t turn aside.”
“Danger will not wait for a sword to
be unsheathed or an arrow to be drawn. The darkness which grows may prove more
challenging.”
About the Author:
Elisabeth Hamill is a nurse/wife/mom by day, unabashed geek/chocoholic/closet sci fi and fantasy novelist by night. She lives with her family, dog, and cat in the wilds of eastern suburban Kansas, where they fend off flying monkey attacks and prep for the zombie apocalypse.
Song Magick, her first novel, won first in category for Teen Fantasy in the 2014 Dante Rossetti Awards for Young Adult Fiction.
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1 comment:
Thank you for spotlighting me today, Roxanne!
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