"With a thoroughly satisfying ending that hints at an incredible future for the series, Dread Pirate Arcanist is an unequivocal triumph." - ManyBooks for Dread Pirate Arcanist (Frith Chronicles, #2)
While on a journey to the famous city of Thronehold, Volke Savan learns of the Sovereign Dragon Tournament. The massive celebration involves hundreds of arcanists competing for fame and glory, and Volke is determined to win.
Dark forces dwell in the city, however, and rumors of the legendary world serpent spread amongst the shadows. Whoever bonds with a god-like mystical creature will gain magic beyond compare, and the queen’s guards suspect cutthroats will use the chaos of the tournament to hide their plotting.
Unsure of who to trust, Volke investigates the terrible rumors while advancing in the ranks of the tournament. Unfortunately, the true villain may be closer than he realizes…
Once Zaxis had dressed, we descended the long staircase to the ground floor. Forsythe flew ahead of us, since he hated walking and Zaxis said he was too big to carry. He made it to the library long before we reached the halfway point. I wore my long coat, leather boots, and thick belt—a buccaneer’s outfit, like most individuals who traveled long distances on a ship—but Zaxis had gone a strange route.
He wore no coat and instead pulled at the edges of the shirt I had given him. It was too small, even though I was a few inches taller. The shirt technically fit, though it stretched tight across his chest and biceps, strained by the new muscle. Zaxis tried to adjust the fabric, but nothing worked.
And instead of one belt, he had two—one to hold his trousers, and the other to hold a leather pouch and his new gloves.
The lax style made him seem more like a thug than a professional, but his bronze pendant eliminated doubt. Pirates and cutthroats didn’t adhere to the guild system of identification.
Before we reached the library, he placed a hand on my shoulder. We stopped, and he stared at me with a half-serious, half-flustered expression, like he didn’t want to speak, but couldn’t stop himself.
“I’ve spent a few evenings with Illia,” Zaxis said, curt. “Just talking. Don’t get the wrong idea.”
I lifted an eyebrow, tenser than I had thought I would be. “Okay.”
“The problem is—she talks about you. A lot. It gets annoying.”
“We did grow up together. And none of the other kids associated with us much.”
Zaxis huffed and then pulled me close. “I thought you said you would help me get in her good graces.”
About the author:
Shami Stovall is a multi-award-winning author of fantasy and science fiction, with several best-selling novels under her belt. Before that, she taught history and criminal law at the college level, and loved every second. When she’s not reading fascinating articles and books about ancient China or the Byzantine Empire, Stovall can be found playing way too many video games, especially RPGs and tactics simulators.
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