Transformation (Rai Kirah)
Carol Berg
Language: English
Pages: 448
ISBN: 0451457951
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Seyonne is a man waiting to die. He has been a slave for sixteen years, almost half his life, and has lost everything of meaning to him: his dignity, the people and homeland he loves, and the Warden's power he used to defend an unsuspecting world from the ravages of demons. Seyonne has made peace with his fate. With strict self-discipline he forces himself to exist only in the present moment and to avoid the pain of hope or caring about anyone. But from the moment he is sold to the arrogant, careless Prince Aleksander, the heir to the Derzhi Empire, Seyonne's uneasy peace begins to crumble. And when he discovers a demon lurking in the Derzhi court, he must find hope and strength in a most unlikely place...
promised it. It was the twenty-second day. The afternoon sun baked the hilltop. Catrin and Hoffyd were sleeping in a meager strip of shade. I sat leaning against the stone wall, unable to do the same, though we had ridden all through the previous night feeling the nearness of the city pulling us on. Vultures circled lazily above some deadness in the distance; a kite dived screaming into the grass soaring upward soon after, carrying an unlucky mouse. A cool wind stirred the long grass, easing
work at all, and in order to free up the other one to listen more carefully, I would have to roll over. I was reluctant to try that, for my body sent a warning from one spot just below my left rib cage that I wasn’t going to like moving. So I mumbled, “Speak up,” hoping the bees might hear. Instantly the words stopped, and I felt sorry for startling the creatures and missing the chance to find out what they said when they thought no one was listening. “Seyonne?” A woman’s voice, far away and
was how much I detested Prince Aleksander. I could not judge Lord Vanye or whether he was truly worthy or unworthy of Aleksander’s scorn, but how could I not despise a prince who would mutilate one man and trample the pitiful scraps of another to remedy his own foolish mistake? Chapter 2 It was three or four days before Prince Aleksander had need of someone who could read. Not just anyone. Someone that he trusted. Palace scribes were notorious for spying and intrigues, being privy to private
understand, madam. I did not exist seventeen years ago. I did not exist three years ago, nor even one hour ago. A slave can exist in no moment but the present one. I beg your gracious pardon, but there is nothing more to tell. I am a slave who reads and writes, and who is honored to serve the future Emperor of the Derzhi.” “I see.” I regretted the chill in her voice just as I ached when the sun would set after a rare sunny day in Capharna. “So only one more question, then. Who was your master
Aleksander’s boot broke through an ice-crusted puddle. He slipped and cracked a knee on a sharp rock. “Damnation!” he said, sitting down hard and pressing a gloved hand over his bleeding knee. Whether it was the sudden injury, the thought of Dmitri, or the combination of the two, in one stomach-wrenching instant I felt every shred of warmth sucked out of my body. “Blessed Athos,” said Aleksander, clamping his fists to his temples. “Not again.” He struggled to his feet and sucked in a harsh