Titre : Cover reveal and teaser extract from Michael J. Sullivan's AGE OF WAR
link : Cover reveal and teaser extract from Michael J. Sullivan's AGE OF WAR
Cover reveal and teaser extract from Michael J. Sullivan's AGE OF WAR
Here's the cover art for Michael J. Sullivan's upcoming Age of War, courtesy of the folks at Del Rey. For more info about this title: Canada, USA, Europe.
Here's the blurb:
War arrives as the Battle of Grandford begins. The full force of the Fhrey army arrives and is seemingly invincible. As the fane’s forces prepare to overwhelm the hastily prepared human defense, the fate of mankind depends on the birth of a butterfly, the speed of a cripple, and the courage of a coward.
And here's a teaser extract for you to sink your teeth into!
Enjoy!
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The Road to War
Life had been the same for hundreds of years. Then the war came, and nothing was ever the same again. — The Book of Brin
Suri the mystic talked to trees, danced at the sound of bells, hated bathing, howled at the moon, and most recently leveled a mountain wiping out centuries of dwarven culture in an instant. She had done this mostly out of grief, but partly out of anger. A dwarf had been mean to her right after Suri’s best friend died. Awful timing on his part. He should have been more sympathetic, but since then Suri had come to realize she could also have shown more restraint and merely set the dwarf on fire, or had the earth swallow him. She hadn’t, and a civilization suffered. It had been a bad day for everyone.
Nearly a week later Suri woke up amidst salifan, ragwort, and meadow thistle. The sun had just peeked above distant hills. Golden shafts made diamonds of dew drops and revealed the labor of a thousand spiders who had cast nets between blades of grass. Having spent the night outside, she too was soaked, and a bit chilled, but the kiss of the sun promised to make everything better. She sat in the wet, the sun on her face, staring at the fields surrounding the seaside dahl Tirre and listening to the faint hum of bumblebees as they began their morning’s work. Then a butterfly flew across her sight and ruined everything.
Suri began to cry.
She didn’t cover her face, didn’t bow her head. She kept it in the sunlight and let the tears roll off, spilling on the grass, adding to the dew. Her little body hitched and shuddered. Before long she was clawing tufts of fescue and buttercups and heaving them at the sky. Suri cried until she was out of tears, and then kept going. The sounds of her wailing muted to a whimper. Finally, she just sat in the field, shoulders drooped, arms limp, fingers reaching out for a coat of fur that wasn’t there.
None of this was unusual. Everyday had been the same since returning from across the sea. The sad part, if Suri were to think about it—which she tried very hard not to—was that mornings were the best part of her days. Things usually slid into a manure pile from there. By midday she was considering how beautiful the summer day was with its blue sky and white clouds, and then she’d realize who wasn’t there to see it. And how dare she enjoy a day without them.
As depressing as all this was, Suri knew she hadn’t hit bottom yet. She saw herself in an emotional free-fall. Rocks were waiting. She could look down and contemplate how it would feel to crash; imagine how tremendous the pain, how awful the shock, if it would kill her. Suri had been falling a long time, almost a week, and she wasn’t far from the bottom.
“Suri!” She was slow to turn. Slow to realize it was her name being called. Still early, most weren’t awake yet. Somewhere behind her the grass rustled, feet thumped. Listening to the speed of those footfalls it could only be one person, and that meant only one thing.
Her fall was over. Hello rocks, she thought and felt tears rising anew, this time threatening to drain her.
“Suri!” Brin shouted.
The mystic didn’t bother to turn. Didn’t want to see—didn’t want to face—
“She’s awake!”
Suri spun.
“Her eyes are open,” Brin shouted. The girl was running, plunging though the tall grass, soaking her skirt. “Arion’s eyes are open!”
Every muscle in Suri’s body came alive. She sprang like a startled deer and sprinted past Brin, racing toward the road. Nearby was the tent Roan had built, specifically for the Fhrey Miralyith. When Suri burst in, Arion was still on the pallet, but now eyelids fluttered and Padera was helping her sit up to drink.
“Tiny sips,” the old woman barked. “I know you want to guzzle like a drunk, but trust me, it’ll come right back up on you, and me, and even if you don’t care—I do.”
Suri stood under the flap just staring. Part of her refused to believe what she was seeing. She was afraid to. Afraid it was some dream and the moment she let herself embrace it, the illusion would dissolve and the pain would rush back with double the force. She didn’t know how many more blows she could take.
“Come in—go out—pick one!” Padera snapped at her. The old woman with mushed lips squinted against the sun’s light that was blinding her.
Suri took a step forward and let the flap fall. The lamp was out, but sunlight was burning bright through the cloth walls. Arion was sitting up, her back resting against Padera’s shoulder. Both her hands, and one of Padera’s, clutched a ceramic cup to her lips. Over the top the Fhrey peered back with weary eyes. The mystic watched as the old woman tipped the cup and the Fhrey slurped loudly.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough for now,” Padera said. “We’ll let that settle a minute. If it sticks, if you don’t erupt like an ugly fountain, I’ll give you more.”
The cup came away and Suri waited.
Her voice—she needed to hear it to be sure. Suri needed Arion to speak to make it real.
Arion tried to say something but couldn’t. She pointed apologetically at her throat.
Suri panicked. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing’s wrong with her,” Padera grumbled. “Beyond that she’s been sleeping for near a week without food or water, and is dry as the dust she nearly became.” Padera looked at the Fhrey with a small shake of her head and a confounded expression. “She ought to be dead. Any man, woman, child, rabbit, or sheep would have passed three days ago with as little water as she’s had. Course she’s none of those, is she?”
Once more sunlight pierced the room blinding everyone. Brin stood holding the flap open. She didn’t say anything, just stood in the gap watching.
“Come in—go out—pick one!” Suri and Padera barked together.
“Sorry,” Brin stepped in letting the flap fall.
Then they all watched Arion. The Fhrey lifted her head slowly, focused on Suri and smiled. Arion reached out a shaky hand. That was enough. Suri fell to her knees before her and found she still had a few tears left. “I tried, I tried, I tried…” Suri managed in between sobs. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I opened a door. I found this dark river. I followed it toward a light, a wonderful terrible light. I—tried to pull you back, to fix you, but…but…”
She felt Arion’s hand patting her head.
Suri looked up.
“Not…tried,” Arion managed to croak with a voice as coarse as gravel. She then mouthed the word, succeeded.
Suri wiped her eyes and squinted at her. “What?”
With more effort the Fhrey said, “You…saved…me.”
Suri continued to stare at her. “You sure?”
Arion smiled. “Pretty…sure.”
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From the forthcoming book AGE OF WAR by Michael J. Sullivan. Copyright © 2018 by Michael J. Sullivan. Reprinted by arrangement with Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.
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