Best Left in the Shadows (6 page)

THE BOY FELT IT BEFORE he saw it.

There was a chill feeling, different from the usual cold
that filled the stone halls of the orphanage. That cold was familiar and
simple. You felt it in your bones. You endured it by hovering closer to the
kitchen fire before the matron caught you, or by sharing a blanket with your
chosen brothers and sisters.

But this was different. This was a sharp-edged cold. Like
the glitter that came off the knife they used to kill the goats. Like the ice
that sheathed the old tree outside and made the branches snap off. He did not
feel this cold in his bones, but in his very soul. And it made him want to
whimper with fear.

He had tried to keep quiet. Already many of the other
orphans were angry at him. The dancers and jugglers had them clapping and
laughing, a rare treat for the forgotten children housed here.

Until he had begun screaming and pointing at one of the
performers.

He had ruined the show, and the embarrassed matron sent the
children off to their dormitories immediately. Their anger was palpable, a
terrible thing he felt all around, and he could hear harsh whispers up and down
the halls of the old fortress that served as the orphanage. “Crazy is at it
again,” he heard. “The lunatic’s seeing monsters again.” He knew if not for his
friends, he would have suffered that night.

His friends Elinor, Alys, Roan, and Kay had not been angry,
though. They believed him. They comforted him, drawing him away from the
performers and out of the room without a look back at the ruined entertainment.
Elinor wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they walked and Roan stared
daggers at the other orphans, defying their anger at his friend. Together, they
returned to the dormitory and prepared for bed.

No, his friends had not been angry like the other children
were. They never were. But he also knew they did not understand. Not truly.
Even he began to doubt himself. Perhaps the cruel whispers from the other
children were right, he thought.

Until tonight. Until he had seen the blackheart just an
arm’s length away from him and he screamed and screamed till his throat was
raw. Where their hearts should have been, oily mud and black smoke oozed from
their chests to cover their bodies. He had seen them three times before, but
never up close like this.

Even now, in the small hours of the night when everyone in
the large room was asleep, the boy remained awake. The fear of the shadowed
juggler would not leave him, and behind his closed eyes, he pictured the
horrible darkness moving over the man. The feeling crept over him more and
more. The cold feeling. Sharp. Dangerous.

He finally could not stand it any longer. His eyes snapped
open, and he looked across the darkened room, past the simple cots the orphans
all slept on.

And he saw it.

The blackheart was in the room. The rolling, oily blackness
spilled from its chest like blood from a wound, deeper even than the dark of
the night. It stood across the room from him, looming over the foot of one
girl’s bed. The boy felt his heart pounding, and he longed to reach out to
touch his friends, either to wake them to see what he saw or to wake himself
from what must be a nightmare. But he was too frightened to move.

As he watched, the juggler’s shape sloughed off, dropping
to the floor like a discarded garment. In its place was something more
horrifying. The head became longer and had no eyes, only a round mouth from
which the boy could see wicked teeth. It craned a long, serpent-like neck
toward the sleeping child while reaching forward with ragged claws at the end
of spindly arms. The thing bent down to feed, and the boy moaned with terror.

The long neck whipped impossibly around, turning its
eyeless face toward the boy. It dropped to all fours and charged across the
room.

For the second time that night the boy screamed himself
raw.

***

Ferran opened his eyes and tried to still his breathing. The
room was warm. All around him were men and women, wearing the earthy colors
favored by the Order of Talan. Many of them had their exposed skin heavily
tattooed with strange symbols and designs. But all of them looked on him with
understanding eyes.

An old man stepped forward, leaning heavily on a cane. Dark
stripes were inked onto his weathered and wrinkled face, contrasting with the
bright white of his long beard. He stood before Ferran and watched as the young
man drew deep breaths.

“What did you see?” the old man asked.

Ferran matched the old man’s gaze and steadied himself. “My
past,” Ferran said.

The old man studied him for a long moment and then nodded
once. He stepped out of the way and made a gesture. Across the length of the
chamber, a heavy iron door swung open, to reveal the creature from his memory.
The monstrous head whipped around and the circular maw puckered at the air.
Long talons scraped across the floor with a high-pitched keening as it drew
away from the open door.

“What do you see?” the old man asked from behind Ferran.

In his left hand, Ferran felt the weight of a long length
of silver chain, and he let one end fall to the floor with a clear, bright
ring. His other hand tightened around the haft of a short spear, the blade held
before him, catching the light of the torches carried by the members of the
Order who looked on.

“What do you see?” the old man asked once more.

Ferran’s lips drew back into a savage smile. “My future,”
he said and advanced on the monster.

by Gelineau and King

Elinor 1: A Reaper of Stone

A Lady is dead. Her noble line ended. And the King’s
Reaper has come to reclaim her land and her home. In the marches of Aedaron,
only one thing is for certain. All keeps of the old world must fall.

Elinor struggles to find her place in the new world. She
once dreamed of great things. Of becoming a hero in the ways of the old world.
But now she is a Reaper. And her duty is clear. Destroy the old. Herald the
new.

Ferran 1: Rend the Dark

The great Ruins are gone. The titans. The behemoths. All
banished to the Dark and nearly forgotten. But the cunning ones, the patient
ones remain. They hide not in the cracks of the earth or in the shadows of the
world. But inside us. Wearing our skin. Waiting. Watching.

Once haunted by visions of the world beyond, Ferran now
wields that power to hunt the very monsters that he once feared. He is not
alone. Others bear the same terrible burden. But Hunter or hunted, it makes no
difference. Eventually, everything returns to the Dark.

Alys 1: Best Left in the Shadows

A Highside girl. Beaten. Murdered. Her body found on a
Lowside dock. A magistrate comes looking for answers. For justice.

Alys trades and sells secrets among the gangs and
factions of Lowside. She is a daughter of the underworld. Bold. Cunning. Free.
When an old lover asks for help, she agrees. For a price.

Together, they travel into the dark heart of the underworld
in search of a killer.

Roan & Kay 1: Faith and Moonlight

Roan and Kay are orphans.

A fire destroys their old life, but they have one chance to enter the School of Faith.

They are given one month to pass the entry trials, but as Roan excels and Kay fails, their devotion to each other is put to the test.

They swore they would face everything together, but when the stakes are losing the life they’ve always dreamed of, what will they do to stay together?

What won’t they do?

“I was blown away by the detail and world building that was
accomplished in so few pages. I didn’t feel like I was seeing a section of a
puzzle, more like I was reading a story that would contribute to a larger
whole, but is compelling and rich all on its own.”

–
Mama Reads, Hazel Sleeps

“Like with the previous
Ascended
books, I really
love the characters and their dynamic. The female lead Alys is different from
the heroines in
Reaper
and
Rend the Dark
, but she’s just as
complex and strong.”

–
White Sky Project

“Gelineau and King have done a great job in this novella.
They at times remind me of Ken Follett and a family friendly George R.R.
Martin. I would recommend this instant classic to young adults and seasoned
fantasy lovers alike.”

– Patrick McQueen, President,
CWC South Bay Writers

“A classic fantasy tale with a strong, admirable heroine
and a nice emotional punch. Great start to an enjoyable new series!”

– RL King, author of
The Alastair Stone Chronicles

“I don’t know if you can call a book lovely, but
A
Reaper of Stone
as a fantasy has a lovely quality to it. It has a strong,
kickass female protagonist – always a good thing to have, in my opinion – and a
setting/environment that gives it that true classic or epic fantasy feel.”

–
White Sky Project

“I really enjoyed the world building here, the myths and
legends are tangible and the world’s history lingers just beneath the surface
of the storyline. I loved the resolution.”

–
Galleywampus

“Atmospheric, fast paced, engaging quick read, with a
satisfying story and glimpses of
Supernatural
and King’s
IT
. This
is definitely a series I can get hooked on and look forward to month after
month.”

–
BooksChatter

“
Rend the Dark
really is a good old fashioned horror
adventure with an exciting plot and strong characters that you would root for
from beginning to end. Like
A Reaper of Stone
,
Rend the Dark
is
very fast paced and has an intriguing story that can really pull you in.”

–
White Sky Project

“Wow. This is an awesomely dark and scary world these
writers have created. I love their use of runes and tattoos. Children with
Sight and adults who no longer believe. It’s a world I will enjoy visiting, for
certain.”

–
Paranormal Romance and Authors that Rock