Nineteen-year-old Siri endures the disdain of her village, but when she’s offered for sale to the neighboring Malku’u tribe, she runs. In chains and threatened by capture she makes her way north through the mountains, determined to escape and to fulfill a vow made to her mother.
Her path leads to a valley where mythical creatures, magic, and curses really do exist.
Once there, voices—snippets of overheard elven conversation, perhaps—begin ranting about imminent death. Not knowing they refer to her, or that the powerful mountain witch seeks something she possesses, she succumbs to the temptation of an elven archery class. Compelled by her conscience to pay for the class, as the other students have, she commits to help the handsome Master Archer. This delays her journey and slams her headlong into the mountain witch’s very able curses.
Soon she reaches a devastating conclusion: abandoning her increasing attraction to the Master Archer and a place that finally feels like home is the only way to carry out the promise to her mother and save the elven valley from imminent doom.
First 150 Words:
Nafaeri had to get the amulet—no matter the risk she took searching the elven king’s castle. In the coming battle, the magic talisman would tip the scale in her favor. Darkness would finally reign.
Giant cypress trees came into focus through one of the slits in the giant turret’s wall. They swayed in the wind along the road from the outer keep then disappeared as she continued up the thick plank steps of the northwest tower. Soon it would all be hers. An arid gust swirled through the narrow stairwell curving forever upward. The shifting air lifted strands of her flaxen hair, damp from her effort to climb quickly.
Narrowing her eyes, she let hatred fill her. She looked forward to ending the cheerful reign of King Rannu. Anyone who stood in her way would be eliminated. Then, the elven population would worship her. Whether from admiration or fear, it mattered not.