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    Quest for Salvation: Soul in Ashes, #4
    Quest for Salvation: Soul in Ashes, #4
    Quest for Salvation: Soul in Ashes, #4
    Ebook92 pages4 hours

    Quest for Salvation: Soul in Ashes, #4

    By Shauna E. Black

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    About this ebook

    In order to escape judgement for working ash magic, Alswyn is forced to take on the form of King Ghalad's intended bride. The disguise leaves her heart tangled inextricably with his. Together, they embark on a quest to find the Lost God, a deity forgotten by all but the oldest legends, and the only power that can restore Alswyn's friends.

    But will her web of lies and deceit prove to be the downfall of the quest?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherVivienza
    Release dateDec 2, 2016
    ISBN9781940855110
    Quest for Salvation: Soul in Ashes, #4

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      Book preview

      Quest for Salvation - Shauna E. Black

      Quest for Salvation: Soul in Ashes Book 4

      Text copyright © 2016 Shauna E. Black

      Cover images by zeferli@gmail.com and Fotolit2, licensed by depositphotos.com and Hummingbird Web Solutions licensed by greedeals.com

      vivienza logo.jpg

      Published by Vivienza

      ISBN 978-1-940855-11-0

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express written permission of Shauna E. Black.

      Quest for Salvation / Shauna E. Black

      Summary: For ash magic crimes, Alswyn is sentenced to the deadly ritual of a Challenge. To escape, she takes on the form of King Ghalad's intended bride, a disguise that leaves her heart tangled inextricably with his. Together, they embark on a quest to find the Lost God, a deity forgotten by all but the oldest legends, and the only power that can restore Alswyn's friends to their true form.

      This is a work of fiction. Settings and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance characters may have to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

      To Mrs. Anderson

      For the admiration that bred my confidence

      ONE

      The guards came for me at dusk. One unlocked the door of the cell reinforced with elder wood to dull my magic. When I didn’t move, he nudged me with his boot.

      Come along, he said gruffly.

      I suppressed a moan. I couldn’t fight, but I would not give them the satisfaction of knowing just how broken I was.

      Get her on her feet, the other guard instructed.

      The first slipped his arms under mine and hoisted me up. The movement sent pain shooting through my limbs. Before I could stop it, a small cry escaped my lips.

      Show a little back bone! Caradoc’s voice was full of condescension.

      I slit my eyes open as he strode into the cell. He wrinkled his nose and waved away the guard, who let go of my arms. I slumped back down into a heap.

      Caradoc squatted in front of me and stroked the ragged tatters of his unkempt beard. His breath smelled of garlic.

      The daughter of the famous Skya will walk into the courtyard of her own free will. His smile was as oily as a weasel’s. I fought the desire to vomit all over his scruffy boots.

      As if he could read my thoughts, he grabbed my chin and forced my head up to examine me like a new mount. I still see a spark of defiance in those eyes. We must quell it before you go to meet Ragnell.

      His words sent a new spike of fear through my middle.

      Stand up! He thrust my crutch at me like a spear. Stand up, or you will taste the truth seekers before your time.

      I swallowed bile and grasped weakly at the crutch. As I hauled my body upward, my amputated right leg wobbled on the crudely carved juniper peg the guards had strapped on that afternoon.

      Bring her. Caradoc strode from the cell with a sure expectation that the guards would obey.

      Although the Quahtl guards’ allegiance was to King Ghalad, they obeyed Caradoc without hesitation or question. One wrapped elder twine around my hands to bind them in front of me. It became doubly difficult to walk as they dragged me from the cell.

      We were in the guard tower of King Ghalad’s castle, located at the southwest corner. Ghalad’s prison was relatively clean with cells placed in a circular pattern along the wall, and the stairs curling down the middle. We moved past other prisoners brooding behind the bars of their cells or lying in piles of straw on the stone floor.

      I focused on Caradoc’s back and imagined a dagger in it to give myself the strength to keep moving. I tried not to think about Ghalad and how he must have betrayed my use of ash magic to Talorc. 

      The light of the setting sun was intense as we exited the tower onto a parapet. When my eyes adjusted, I saw a crowd in the courtyard below hovering at the edge of a roped off circle with a wooden stand at one end. I shivered. I knew what the stand contained.

      The guards had to half carry me down the stairs. My legs felt like water and refused to hold my weight. Had it all come down to this? Was I to suffer a traitor’s death surrounded by foreigners and those I’d once called friends?

      As the crowd parted to let us through, I saw King Talorc standing on the inner balcony across the courtyard. He was dressed in full furs, despite the heat that still radiated from the cobblestones. Freshly braided red hair spilled in neat lines across his broad shoulders.

      Bridei stood beside him, her face stoic as a carving. She stared straight ahead, eyes never meeting mine.

      Behind Talorc’s other shoulder, King Ghalad stood with Serrin. They were in the shadows, but I could still make out Serrin’s shocked expression, Ghalad’s frown. Was he upset that Talorc had taken over his castle for this public display, or because I’d managed to outlive Caradoc’s ministrations long enough to warrant an execution?

      I firmed my chin and lifted it slightly, shaking off the guard’s supportive hands. Caradoc was right. The daughter of Skya would not be dragged to her death like a common criminal.

      We walked past a ring of Quahtl guards and T’yathan warriors who stood at attention around the central clearing and kept back the crowd. My guards stopped me from following Caradoc across the circle. One of them cut the cords that bound my hands. I rubbed my wrists ruefully.

      The whispers of the crowd faded as the guards saluted the balcony above, and Caradoc bowed to King Talorc.

      "The prisoner has refused

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