#Win a KINDLE FIRE
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Since their father was taken to the dungeons of the capital city, Eoin and Saera have had to fend for themselves. If Eoin can find an apprenticeship in the capital, they can work on freeing him.
But Saera is afflicted with an evil goddess’s light, and when her Aura flares up in the middle of the street, the power-hungry Church Regency are quickly on their heels, keen to eradicate the threat.
With more than the Regency after them, their only hope is to relinquish the Aura. Making alliances they would never have dreamt of, they find themselves swept up into a struggle against the kingdom they once called their own.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ryan Sullivan discovered his passion for writing at the age of seven. Drawn to the limitless worlds of magic, he never stopped. Ever since writing his first collection of stories, he knew he wanted to be an author. He is currently studying music, and teaches piano. He lives east of Melbourne, Australia.
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The Master raised his head, but all Saera could see was his grey beard poking out from his hood. Still uttering his incantation, he came closer. He was going to take her blood. She didn’t know where from or how much he hoped to take, but she wouldn’t let him. When she set her light free, she would have seconds to wait for Miren, and if he didn’t come, she was ready to say her final prayers. But to whom? Duthonne’s gods had abandoned her long ago. So it was settled. If she was going to die, she would make her prayers to Maekre, the God of Death, whether he loved her or not. Who said whose gods were whose, anyway? Gods were gods, and this night she was in the Northern Ranges of Arlea, where the people looked to all the gods.
The Master’s dagger glinted red in its reflection of the dawn’s sun, making him squint. In that moment, when his attention was diverted, Saera gathered her mind and soul and pushed the Aura free. She saw the whiteness wash over the courtyard, making the men shy away. Having nearly mastered it, she was immune to its blinding power. Amidst the cries of shock, there was another sound. She could hear the Arleans’ drum beat again, but this time it wasn’t in her head. The beat was soon followed by a high whistling noise, and cries of shock became cries of pain as arrows went thwack. The arrows hadn’t come from nowhere. The Arleans were here.
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