Geist (A Book of the Order)
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Among the most powerful of the Order is Sorcha, now thrust into partnership with the novice Deacon, Merrick Chambers. They have been dispatched to the isolated village of Ulrich to aide the Priory with a surge of violent geist activity. With them is Raed Rossin, Pretender to the throne that Sorcha is sworn to protect, and bearer of a terrible curse.
But what greets them in the strange settlement is something far more predatory and more horrifying than any mere haunting. And as she uncovers a tradition of twisted rituals passed down through the dark reaches of history, Sorcha will be forced to reconsider everything she thinks she knows.
And if she makes it out of Ulrich alive, what in Hell is she returning to?
good enough horse-man to keep up.” He shrugged. “Winner of the All Novices four-hundred-yard gallop, runner-up in the—” “A simple yes would suffice,” Sorcha grumbled, her bandaged fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as if she were in pain. “Well, then . . . I suppose so.” “Good, because the fastest way north is going to be the road. The currents around Vermillion are treacherous this time of year, and no ships are leaving until next week at the earliest.” “The Abbot needs us there that
swallowed hard. Those relatives would be better off without the knowledge of what had happened to their loved ones. The image of the desiccated Captain, reaching for his dead weirstone, was burned on the Pretender’s brain. He glanced up where the Rossin flag fluttered over Dominion. The mer-lion was hanging over him, just like in the ancient Curse. Every assumption of his life had been blown out of the water, as conclusively as Corsair had been, and Raed needed time to pull himself together. He
what you are supposed to?” Merrick could understand that the Pretender had no love for those who worked for the Emperor, but he found himself defending the old Prior. “We’ve all been surprised by the events of the last week or so. It’s unprecedented—the Prior Aulis can’t be held responsible for that.” “Watch out!” Sorcha slammed into Merrick just as he was getting into full diplomatic flow. Together they smashed into the stone of the parapet and tumbled away, just as fire burst right where he’d
around Felstaad’s neck. The chain, Raed knew, had been presented to Felstaad’s father by Raed’s own grandfather. It was the Prince’s only ornamentation and no doubt had been chosen with care. Raed would have to tread with caution. Still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to give a low bow. After all, he outranked a mere minor prince, even if his current home was a ramshackle ship and his subjects a collection of the continent’s castoffs. Raed therefore inclined his head, with no sign of bent knee
you’ll be—” “Sorry?” She smiled again. “One Deacon is of no consequence to us.” She waved her hand as if batting a midge, then stood up again and pointed above him to the ceiling. “Perhaps you have missed that.” With a chill, Merrick followed where she was pointing. The floor might have been dirt, but someone had taken a lot of time with the ceiling. The curve of the brickwork had been whitewashed and decorated with the swirls of more cantrips than he had ever seen in one place. He did indeed