The Dark Remains (The Last Rune, Book 3)
Mark Anthony
Language: English
Pages: 656
ISBN: 0553579355
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
From a brilliant fantasy master comes a tale of astounding magic, unrelenting evil, and redemptive courage.
Travis Wilder and Grace Beckett have returned to modern Earth to get medical help for Beltan, a knight from the otherworld of Eldh. But as Beltan lies unconscious in the ICU of a Denver hospital, a shadowy organization plots to kidnap him, and sinister forces of dark magic cross the boundary from Eldh in a murderous search for Travis and Grace.
Meanwhile, in Eldh, a young baroness, her witch companion, and their mortal and immortal friends journey to a dying city, there to confront a nameless evil that has begun to annihilate the very gods.
Somehow Travis and Grace must save Beltan and themselves, then make their way back to Eldh. For only there can they hope to defeat a demonic enemy that can shatter time, devour space, and turn existence into nothingness.
whispered, voice hoarse. In her mind, Grace spoke another word. Farr. On the sides of the black trailers, crescent moons gleamed in the waning daylight. Dark figures were climbing out of the cabs, stumbling among the wreckage. The accident must have just happened. “All right,” Mitchell said. “We found them. Now what?” It was Vani who spoke. “There is room to the right side of the road. You must use it to get us to the head of the caravan. If they are yet alive, the Seekers will be there.
with Vani and Sareth. “I guess the party’s over,” Travis said to Grace. She gazed into the fire, gripping the steel pendant that hung at her neck. “Grace, what is it?” “That song. I … I know it.” “Maybe you heard Falken sing it before.” “No, that’s not it.” Grace moved to the bard, who was putting his lute back into its case. “Falken, could you play the music for the first verse again?” Melia smoothed her white shift on the pillows where she sat. “Whatever for, dear?” “I’m not sure.
holding him back. But what? “Vani,” Grace said. Only as she spoke the word did he realize he was no longer gazing at Beltan, but at the assassin. As if she sensed his attention, she looked up with gold eyes. Then she turned her gaze back to the artifact. “What’s going on, Grace?” he managed to croak. “I don’t know. I think maybe …” Grace drew in a breath. “Back in the hotel room, in Denver, Vani asked me about you and Beltan. She asked me if you loved him. When I said yes, she seemed …
the energy we can get.” She popped the lid on her coffee and took a deep swig. A reflexive grimace crossed her face. He cocked his head. “What is it?” Grace laughed, gazing down at the oily surface of the brown liquid in the cup. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just that on Eldh I always found myself wishing for real coffee. And now that I’m here …” “You wish it were maddok.” Her smile faded, but she concealed it by raising the cup and taking another sip of the coffee. It was hot and bitter, and
home and never come back to Eldh. That was the thread Sister Mirda had risked everything in order to weave into the Pattern. Besides, Lirith knew it was possible they would never see Travis again. Or Grace or Beltan, for that matter. But the thought was bitter comfort. It was only the next morning, as they mounted their horses in the bailey of Ar-tolor amid the rising mists of dawn, that Lirith looked up, saw a pale face gazing down at her through a high window, and realized that she had broken