The White Road
(Sprache: Englisch)
Dissolute nobles, master spies, and the unlikeliest of heroes, Alec and Seregil have survived exile, treachery, and black magic. But the road that lies ahead is the most hazardous they've ever traveled. For with enemies on all sides, they must walk a narrow...
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Dissolute nobles, master spies, and the unlikeliest of heroes, Alec and Seregil have survived exile, treachery, and black magic. But the road that lies ahead is the most hazardous they've ever traveled. For with enemies on all sides, they must walk a narrow path between good and evil where one misstep might be their last.Having escaped death and slavery in Plenimar, Alec and Seregil want nothing more than to go back to their nightrunning life in Rhíminee. Instead they find themselves saddled with Sebrahn, a strange, alchemically created creature-the prophesied "child of no woman." Its moon-white skin and frightening powers make Sebrahn a danger to all whom Alec and Seregil come into contact with, leaving them no choice but to learn more about Sebrahn's true nature.
With the help of trusted friends and Seregil's clan, the duo set out to discover the truth about this living homunculus-a journey that can lead only to danger or death. For Seregil's old nemesis Ulan í Sathil of Virèsse and Alec's own long-lost kin are after them, intent on possessing both Alec and Sebrahn. On the run and hunted, Alec and his comrades must fight against time to accomplish their most personal mission ever.
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Chapter OneSafe Harbor
DYING even for just a little while took a lot out of a person. Alec and his companions had arrived in Gedre last night and Alec had managed to stay on his horse as they rode up from the harbor to the clan house, but he d spoiled it by fainting in the courtyard. Mydri had taken one sharp look at him and packed him off to bed in a room overlooking the harbor. And when their host saw Sebrahn, Riagil í Molan had ordered that the rhekaro stay hidden, too. Given Sebrahn s strange appearance, Alec could hardly blame him.
Winter rain lashed against the window across the room and the wind moaned in the chimney. Gedre harbor was barely visible, the ships anchored there just dark smudges in the mist. After their stormy crossing from Plenimar, it was rather nice to be in a soft bed that didn t roll under him. He had no idea what time it was. When he d awakened, Seregil was already gone, no doubt to speak with his sisters or their host, the khirnari.
Sebrahn was curled up on the cushions of the window seat, gazing out though at what it was impossible to say. The rhekaro might haveAlec s childhood features, but it was impossible to pass him off as an ordinary child. His pale, silver-white hair hung nearly to the floor behind him. His white skin looked ghostly in the grey light, and his silver eyes were the color of steel. Riagil s wife, Yhali, had replaced the rags Sebrahn had arrived in with soft Aurënfaie tunics, knitted stockings, and shoes that fit him, though Sebrahn seemed confused by the latter and kept taking them off. Just as any little child might do
But he s not a child, is he?
Pushing that thought away, Alec reached for the mug Mydri had left on the bedside table and sipped the medicinal broth. His hand shook a bit, spilling a few drops down the front of his
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nightshirt.
He and Seregil had been in desperate condition when Micum and Thero had found them in Plenimar, but Sebrahn had been even worse. He was made of magic and had used a staggering amount to kill their pursuers in the Plenimaran wilderness, bring Alec back from Bilairy s gate, and heal both Seregil and Alec. For the first few days of the voyage they feared that the wizened, depleted little rhekaro might have used himself up. Too weak to get out of his bunk, Alec had fed Sebrahn several times a day, squeezing blood from his fingertip onto the rhekaro s little grey tongue.After a few days of this Sebrahn grew more alert and continued to improve. And today he seemed nearly himself again.
Alec wondered how long Riagil and Mydri were going to keep him shut away up here. His long linen nightshirt was fresh, but he hadn t had a proper bath since they d escaped from the alchemist s villa almost two weeks ago. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which hung halfway down his back lank and dirty. His fingers caught in snarls and tangles. Stretching out one long blond strand, he wondered not for the first time whether he should just cut it off, as Seregil had sacrificed his during their escape. Sebrahn was squirming around now. One by one, the borrowed shoes fell to the floor. The alchemist, Charis Yhakobin, had created the rhekaro to be nothing more than a sexless, voiceless tool one whose unnatural flesh and strange white blood could, according to Yhakobin, be distilled for some kind of potent elixir. But Sebrahn and his illfated predecessor had been much more than that. Sebrahn might be sexless, but he was not voiceless,
He and Seregil had been in desperate condition when Micum and Thero had found them in Plenimar, but Sebrahn had been even worse. He was made of magic and had used a staggering amount to kill their pursuers in the Plenimaran wilderness, bring Alec back from Bilairy s gate, and heal both Seregil and Alec. For the first few days of the voyage they feared that the wizened, depleted little rhekaro might have used himself up. Too weak to get out of his bunk, Alec had fed Sebrahn several times a day, squeezing blood from his fingertip onto the rhekaro s little grey tongue.After a few days of this Sebrahn grew more alert and continued to improve. And today he seemed nearly himself again.
Alec wondered how long Riagil and Mydri were going to keep him shut away up here. His long linen nightshirt was fresh, but he hadn t had a proper bath since they d escaped from the alchemist s villa almost two weeks ago. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which hung halfway down his back lank and dirty. His fingers caught in snarls and tangles. Stretching out one long blond strand, he wondered not for the first time whether he should just cut it off, as Seregil had sacrificed his during their escape. Sebrahn was squirming around now. One by one, the borrowed shoes fell to the floor. The alchemist, Charis Yhakobin, had created the rhekaro to be nothing more than a sexless, voiceless tool one whose unnatural flesh and strange white blood could, according to Yhakobin, be distilled for some kind of potent elixir. But Sebrahn and his illfated predecessor had been much more than that. Sebrahn might be sexless, but he was not voiceless,
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Lynn Flewelling
Lynn Flewelling is best known for her Nightrunner series, as well as the Tamir Triad, and her work appears in a dozen languages. She also maintains a lively online presence with her website and her Live Journal, Talk in the Shadows. Born in northern Maine, Flewelling is happily transplanted in Redlands, California, with her husband and too many animals.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Lynn Flewelling
- 2010, 400 Seiten, Masse: 10,8 x 17,5 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Ballantine
- ISBN-10: 055359009X
- ISBN-13: 9780553590098
- Erscheinungsdatum: 11.08.2011
Sprache:
Englisch
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