A Thursday teaser from the novel
By Bruce Blake
Sylleth paused at the threshold, weapon pointed forward as he surveyed the courtyard laid out before him, empty of the life and activity he’d expect to find. All the servants were gone. His militiamen, too. His lips pressed together, and he swallowed a sour mouthful of saliva before stepping out into the open.
People shouted in the distance, their voices tight with panic. But what caused it? He spied no evidence of the walls being breached, no men in unfamiliar armor pillaging and lighting fires. In fact, he saw nothing but the rising smoke and the empty courtyard.
And the withered hedge maze.
The baron gaped, strode toward his treasured labyrinth, forgetting everything else. He approached not as a warrior prepared for battle, but with his sword dangling at his side, disappointment and distress evident in his demeanor.
Once broad green leaves hung from the branches, shriveled to grays and browns and thirsting for water. Desiccated vines appearing as though they’d fall to dust at the slightest touch lay on the ground like dying soldiers. Where once was an entrance, he found naught but an indentation of tangled limbs.
He stopped short of the maze, mourning its former glory. For centuries, it had presented challenge and temptation to the brave and foolhardy alike, and it remained undefeated. A dozen men a year strode to their demise along its leafy paths in search of the baron’s prize. Hundreds of lost souls during his reign, and nobody knew how many in the generations before he assumed the mantle of baron. A once verdant symbol of his family’s achievements now withered and ruined.
“How?” he said, taking another step closer. “What happened?”
“You did this.”
Referring to the sound emanating from behind him as words felt generous, each syllable carried on the scrape of wood blocks rubbing together. Yet the meaning was clear.
Sylleth faced the speaker, his sword raised as he spun away from the ruined labyrinth. Anger burbled within him at the loss, the interruption, the accusation. He parted his lips to admonish whoever dared to speak to him thus, but stopped short when he found no one behind him.
No human.
While the courtyard remained devoid of servants and guardsmen, a squat tree stood in the path leading to the castle, though the description lacked an accurate representation of its appearance. It appeared shorter than most any he’d seen, the patchy-leafed top a scant seven feet from the ground. One branch protruded from either side, both of them thicker at their base, thinning as they went, ending in an array of smaller branches. The trunk itself wasn’t of uniform thickness, but shaped more reminiscent of an hourglass.
Or the figure of a woman.
He stared, unsure of what to think. He’d never seen this unusual tree before, though it must have been there. Perhaps, like the hedge maze, some portion of its foliage lay rotting on the ground, rendering it unrecognizable, yet more than its appearance bothered him. It seemed out of place. Too near the path, too distant from other trees. He paced a tentative step forward.
Two patches of moss shifted, and amber orbs peered at him from the gnarled bark.
“You,” the unsettling voice repeated. This time he noticed a crevice in the trunk open and close with the word, creaking and scraping as it moved.
The baron’s eyes widened as realization dawned. Though he’d never seen it before—they kept it out of sight hidden amongst other trees—he understood this to be the Unnamed who controlled his hedge maze. A dryad. The unappealing creatures had resided within his family’s estate since its construction and he recalled the guild replacing its handler at least once in his lifetime.
“Y…you,” he stuttered, his feet shuffling him away from the living tree. “You maintain my labyrinth. What’s happened? Where is your handler?”
The branch on the trunk’s left side reached upward, stretching and creaking. The smaller protrusions at the end of it disappeared into the leaves, rustling them together in an eerie whisper. A second later, it pulled free a round object and tossed it toward Sylleth.
He didn’t recognize it until the handler’s head bounced to a halt a yard in front of him.
Shadow of the Dragon
The Fourth Book in the Curse of the Unnamed Epic Fantasy Series
The curse is broken. Only vengeance remains.
After the catastrophic release of the Unnamed, Llyris and her companions are the last beacon of hope in a world ravaged by chaos and retribution. This is no mere battle for justice; it is the harbinger of genocide, a sinister force threatening to bring about the extinction of humankind.
Alongside the remnants of her steadfast allies, Llyris must embark on a final quest seeking an ancient power that may hold the key to mankind’s salvation. Their journey is humanity’s final stand, the sole path to averting the complete annihilation of their kind.
They seek the God in the mountain. They seek the dragon.
Bruce Blake
lives on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada. When pressing issues like shovelling snow and building igloos don’t take up his spare time, Bruce can be found taking the dog sled to the nearest coffee shop to work on his short stories and novels.
Actually, Victoria, B.C. is only a couple hours north of Seattle, Wash., where more rain is seen than snow. The father of two amazing children, Bruce was once the trophy husband of a burlesque diva…not so much anymore.
Bruce’s novels include the Khirro’s Journey trilogy (Blood of the King, Spirit of the King, and Heart of the King), three books in the ongoing Icarus Fell urban fantasy series (On Unfaithful Wings, All Who Wander are Lost, and Secrets of the Hanged Man), and the six-volume Books of the Small Gods series. His newest project is the Curse of the Unnamed series, beginning with The Book of Shadow.
Get to know more about Bruce on his website and blog.
