Heirs of Prophecy: Sembia: Gateway to the Realms, Book V
Lisa Smedman
Language: English
Pages: 310
ISBN: 0786942908
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Introduce yourself to the Forgotten Realms(R) world with New York Times best-selling author, Lisa Smedman.
Larajin, the unacknowledged daughter of Thamalon Uskevren and a half-elf, finds herself embroiled in a bitter war between elves and humans. In an effort to bring peace to both Sembia and the Dalelands, Larajin must confront the twin brother she doesn't know and save a half-brother whose fate hangs in the balance.
trap. Cursing all humans and their devious natures, he sprang down from the bed. In that same instant, the door began to open, spilling a crack of light into the room. Leifander hurried to the balcony, crouched there, and began the chant that would transform him back into a crow. Before he could complete the spell, light washed over him, and a woman’s voice hissed, “Ebeian! What took you so long? I was worried that … Oh! Who are you?” Leifander shot a look over his shoulder, and saw a human
something to Doriantha, who nodded and picked up a small earthenware jar from one of the shelves. She passed this jug to Rylith, who unstoppered it and offered it to Larajin. The fruity smell of fermented berries rose from within. Larajin glanced down, and saw that the jar was filled with a blue-black liquid. “A mild draught,” Rylith said. “One that will help you to relax and to sleep. Your arrival is fortuitous. Tomorrow is the Turning, an important day among our people. The dance begins at
them—and they would protect it, in turn. “Your people understand nothing of pride, of honor,” he told her. “That’s what this war is about. Our dignity!” “This talk about ‘your people’ and ‘my people’ is nonsense,” she shouted back at him. “I’m a half-elf—and so are you!” Leifander’s rebuke was cut short by a grating noise overhead. Looking up, he noticed that Tal had returned. “By the gods, keep quiet!” he hissed down at them. “I could hear you halfway down the street.” He lay prone on the
ground, venom dripping from its mouth. The distraction was only momentary, but it was enough. Larajin’s hand slid down Leifander’s arm, toward his hand. “Sune and Hanali Celanil, lend me a little of the water of Evergold—add your holy waters to my brother’s storm!” she shouted. A rush of energy flowed through Leifander and pulsed from his fingertips. His hand again blurred and seemed to fuse with Larajin’s. A spray of rain erupted from their fingers. The rain, blown horizontally by the wind,
One more novice wouldn’t be noticed by the city guard, and even if she was—and was recognized—the guard wouldn’t dare risk the wrath of the goddess by interfering with a Heartwarder.” Larajin smiled. It would work—she was certain of it. She was as good as out of Selgaunt. “Once you get to Ordulin, there’s a tailor I know who can help you,” Habrith continued. “He’s a half-elf, himself. He can give you the name of an elf in Essembra who can guide you to the Tangled Trees.” “Could you … accompany