What do you think?
Rate this book


496 pages, Paperback
Published April 9, 2019
Over the last seven years at war, [Naoise] had become all too familiar with the works of every one of the major Telrishti swordmakers. Farid used an alloy of his own invention, devised for its flexibility, that gave off a distinctive rainbow sheen when tempered. Husam forged blades that were uglier than a hyena’s smile, but they retained an edge like no other. Swords from the foundry of Zahir were beautiful, works of art each one. Those made by Raza had a tendency to break when met with a direct parry at the ricasso. It mattered, knowing which weapons he was up against in any given battle, and Naoise knew them all.
He continued to study her with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, as if expecting to find at any moment that she was made of smoke and would disappear. “You saved my life. And dog’s.”
The conspicuous lapse in his otherwise flawless Elven seemed off. “That should be ‘my dog’s,’” she corrected, watching his reaction with interest.
He chuckled sheepishly. “No, his name is Aiqa.” The use of the word dog as a name was understandably confusing. “It was meant to annoy my brother . . .”
[Lyn] stopped inside the doorway of the Royal Vault, and stared, and discovered what riches looked like.
Not piles of them, though. The room looked surprisingly neat, given how much stuff was in there. Row upon row of the glittering trappings of luxury, trinkets and armor and jewels more beautiful than anything she could have imagined, basked in the light of a cut glass window in the high ceiling. So many crowns, delicate or ornate or imposing, all of them finely crafted in patterns evoking nature and flaunting staggering wealth. Necklaces on velvet displays. Colorful bejeweled gowns on mannequins, like a silent crowd of court ladies admiring the spectacle of the vault. Silver bowls, crystal chalices, and giant gilt-frame mirrors. A suit of armor so brightly polished it was almost white. Weapons far too pretty to be functional. Boxes carved of strange woods. Baubles and ornaments who purpose she could not even guess at and had no name for, resting importantly on marble plinths.