I have appointed you to be my Laeva.
Benedict felt his stomach drop out.
Laeva.
The Left Hand of Albion.
The Spirearch’s personal murderer.
An action-packed novella set in the Cinder Spires universe.
The timeline is a little before the events from the second book in the series, The Olympian Affair , so don’t do like me and read it before you read about the main event, because the plot here has a direct bearing on what comes next.
It is also a good reintroduction to the setting for readers who are a little hazy about what went on in the first book, considering the long wait time for the sequel.
Since this is a novella, it doesn’t beat around the bush much, and it is really streamlined with one lead character and one storyline, so there’s less byzantine palace politics, rotating POVs or double betrayals from spies, and more flash-bang action.
Benedict is the warriorborn from the title, a member of Spire Albion nobility who was born with enhanced senses, strength and agility. His monarch sends him on a secret mission to a colony spire that has suddenly stopped answering calls, to investigate the problem and to retrieve a vital piece of information from a lost briefcase.
She had the features of a porcelain doll and the personality of a tattooed wrestler from the Pike.
Since this is a plausible deniability mission, Benedict must go in with only three companions, all criminals that the SpireArch promised to pardon if they help. Of course, this means if they survive the mission, which is highly doubtful ...
Like I said in my review for the second novel, expect the unexpected. Benedict and his dirty dozen trio of expendables will have to fight their way through toxic monsters and enemy troops from the rival of Spire Albion, Spire Aurora, who are led by not one but three of their own warriorborn.
Did I mention that there will also be talking cats? And dragons?
The beast was apparently resting on the ramp, out of the rain, a creature of beauty and sinuous power. It was a big one, nearly as long as a frigate, call it seventy feet with the tail. Plumage that rippled through every color of the spectrum even in the grey light shone with droplets of rain and congealed mist. A long neck, a snout with jaws the size of a bathtub, eyes like saucers, its forelimbs lined with great wings, its rear legs powerful and clawed, its tail rippling wider and then narrower again with plumes as long as Benedict’s leg. More plumes covered its long neck and spread about its head like a great crown. The beast radiated a predator’s confident power yet was so slender that it looked as if it could move with startling, serpentine speed.
“What is that?” Fenli breathed.
“A dragon,” Benedict said to the little cat.
Great action in a tight package. Thank you Mr. Butcher!