Celebrating the release of Vow’s Answer, third book in The Siaris Quartet, with gratitude to the great team at Musa Publishing! Thank you all.
Here’s a little introduction:
Can love change a world’s fate?
The Morraeth have always wanted one thing: Siaris. And they will stop at nothing to attain it. With Maeran still enslaved in their power and Riana returning to be with him, the world can easily fall prey to evil.
Xereth is riding high on the promise of victory and searches out weaknesses in his foes. Old grudges are subtly inflamed and new deceptions put into play. With the Guardians distracted and pulled away from their ancient duty to protect Siaris’s more fragile species, everyone is in danger. Hidden threats are forming in the air itself, and an enclave of embittered humans awaits only the right weapon.
While Riana and Maeran stand reunited, their son Daimen has his own path, and the Morraeth are watching. Daimen’s actions will challenge the long-estranged Guardian Orders to break through all their fears. When pushed to their limits, will they stand together, or fall? Who will save the world?
Ice needles sprayed over the barren peaks. Cones of white whirled upward on a shrieking gale. Daimen enhanced his shields against the spell-storm’s ferocity. The spells around his skin prickled, but he was used to that. He’d been skirting the Shadow Realm’s borders for five centuries.
His eyes trained onto a peak jutting up through the blizzard. A flash of white more dense than snow brought him to a hover against the buffeting wind. A sensation of distress pulled his attention down to a crown of ice-sheathed rocks. He hadn’t flown this particular circuit for several months; nothing on it had ever stopped him before. Now, he dropped straight down, snow sleeking off his shields.
Alighting with caution on the slippery surface, he caught a breath. The delicate form of a woman lay half-curled at his feet. Her black wings hung at odd angles, pinned between two sharp crags. Daimen sank into a crouch by her side, shock rocking him harder than the storm. The woman’s shields were shattered, obvious from the snow and ice-needles flicking against her equally white skin, but he heard the slow beat of her heart, and weak breath pooled in his lowered hand.
His shields closed over the woman with his touch. He pushed a stream of healers through her notched feathers. With the piercing wind kept at bay, her black hair stilled. Long strands tumbled across Daimen’s forearm. Feeling wetness, he lifted his fingers from her dark gown and found them covered in glimmering amber blood.
Almost the color of mine.
He stared at the drops running across his hand, entranced. Blood surged in his veins, thudding in his fingertips as if magnetized to the bright smear on his skin.
Recalling where he was, Daimen extended his senses, searching for signs of Guardian intelligence. Nothing. He knelt undecided for a moment. Wariness of what this finding might mean rushed in a welter through his head. He looked down again. Recognition pulsed through him, so powerful it took his breath.
She’s the enemy. She’s vicious. Cruel. He traced the line of a tattered wing.
Vulnerable. Injured. Left to die.
Could a half-Guardian die of exposure? Daimen didn’t know enough about the convoluted binding of elden and Guardian cells to be sure.
He pushed the thought back. A spasm constricted his chest. He felt angry, confused. Vision reddening at the edges, he gathered up the woman’s limp body and shot into the unrelenting sky.
You can find out more about Daimen’s discovery – and the quests of his family, friends and foes – in Vow’s Answer, available here.