Masques
(Sprache: Englisch)
Experience the fantasy and adventure of #1 New York Times bestselling author Patricia Brigg's first published novel the thrilling start of the Sianim series...
After an upbringing of proper behavior and oppressive expectations, Aralorn fled her...
After an upbringing of proper behavior and oppressive expectations, Aralorn fled her...
Leider schon ausverkauft
Buch (Kartoniert)
3.50 €
1 DeutschlandCard Punkt
sammeln
- Lastschrift, Kreditkarte, Paypal, Rechnung
- Kostenlose Rücksendung
Produktdetails
Produktinformationen zu „Masques “
Klappentext zu „Masques “
Experience the fantasy and adventure of #1 New York Times bestselling author Patricia Brigg's first published novel the thrilling start of the Sianim series...After an upbringing of proper behavior and oppressive expectations, Aralorn fled her noble birthright for a life of adventure as a mercenary spy. But her latest mission involves more peril than she ever imagined.
Agents of Sianim have asked her to gather intelligence on the increasingly popular and powerful sorcerer Geoffrey ae'Magi. Soon Aralorn comes to see past the man's striking charisma and into a soul as corrupt and black as endless night. And few have the will to resist the sinister might of Geoffrey and his minions.
So Aralorn, aided by her enigmatic companion, Wolf, join the growing rebellion against the ae'Magi. But in a war against an enemy armed with the powers of illusion, how do you know who the true enemy is or where he will strike next?
Lese-Probe zu „Masques “
PrologueThe wolf stumbled from the cave, knowing that someone was searching for him and he couldn't protect himself this time. Feverish and ill, his head throbbing so hard that it hurt to move, he couldn't pull his thoughts together.
After all this time, after all of his preparations, he was going to be brought down by an illness.
The searcher's tendrils spread out again, brushing across him without recognition or pause. The Northlands were rife with wild magicwhich is why other magic couldn't work correctly here. The searcher looked for a wizard and would never notice the wolf who concealed the man in its shape unless the fever betrayed him.
He should lie low, it was the best defense ; but he was so afraid, and his illness clogged his thoughts.
Death didn't frighten him; he sometimes thought he had come here seeking it. He was more afraid he wouldn't die, afraid of what he would become. Perhaps the one who looked for him was just idly huntingbut when he felt a third sweep, he knew it was unlikely. He must have given himself away somehow. He'd always known that he would be found one day. He'd just never thought it would be when he was so weak.
He fought to blend better with the form he'd taken, to lose himself in the wolf. He succeeded.
The fourth sizzle of magic, the searcher's magic, was too much for the wolf. The wolf was a simpler creature than the mage who hid within him. If he was frightened, he attacked or ran. There was no one here to attack, so he ran.
It wasn't until the wolf was tired that he could gather his humanitythat was a laugh, his humanitywell then, he gathered himself together and stopped running. His ribs ached with the force of his breath and the tough pads of his feet were cut by stones and an occasional crystal of ice from a land where the sun would never completely melt winter's gift. He was shivering though he felt hot, feverish. He was sick.
... mehr
He couldn't keep runningand it wasn't only the wolf who craved escapebecause running wasn't escape, not from what he fled.
He closed his eyes, but that didn't keep his head from throbbing in time with his pounding pulse. If he wasn't going to die out here, he would have to find shelter. Someplace warm, where he could wait and recover. He was lucky he'd come south, and it was high summer. If it had been winter, his only chance would have been to return to the caves he'd run from.
A pile of leaves under a thicket of aspen caught his attention. If they were deep enough to be dry underneath, they would do for shelter. He headed downhill and started for the trees.
There was no warning. The ground simply gave out from under him so fast he was lying ten feet down on a pile of rotted stakes before he realized what had happened.
It was an old pit trap. He started to get up and realized that he hadn't been as lucky as he thought. The stakes had snapped when he hit them, but so had his rear leg.
Perhaps if he hadn't already been so sick, so tired, he could have done something. He'd long ago learned how to set pain aside while he used his magic. But, though he tried, he couldn't distance himself from it this time, not while his body shivered with fever. Without magic, with a broken leg, he was trapped. The rotting stakes meant no one was watching the pitno one to free him or kill him quickly. So he would die slowly.
That was all right because he didn't want to be free so much as he didn't want to be caught.
This was a trap, but it wasn't His trap.
Perhaps, the wolf thought, as his good legs collapsed again, perhaps it would be good not to run anymore. The ground was cold and wet underneath him, and the flush of heat from fever and the frantic journey drained into the chill of his surroundings. He
He couldn't keep runningand it wasn't only the wolf who craved escapebecause running wasn't escape, not from what he fled.
He closed his eyes, but that didn't keep his head from throbbing in time with his pounding pulse. If he wasn't going to die out here, he would have to find shelter. Someplace warm, where he could wait and recover. He was lucky he'd come south, and it was high summer. If it had been winter, his only chance would have been to return to the caves he'd run from.
A pile of leaves under a thicket of aspen caught his attention. If they were deep enough to be dry underneath, they would do for shelter. He headed downhill and started for the trees.
There was no warning. The ground simply gave out from under him so fast he was lying ten feet down on a pile of rotted stakes before he realized what had happened.
It was an old pit trap. He started to get up and realized that he hadn't been as lucky as he thought. The stakes had snapped when he hit them, but so had his rear leg.
Perhaps if he hadn't already been so sick, so tired, he could have done something. He'd long ago learned how to set pain aside while he used his magic. But, though he tried, he couldn't distance himself from it this time, not while his body shivered with fever. Without magic, with a broken leg, he was trapped. The rotting stakes meant no one was watching the pitno one to free him or kill him quickly. So he would die slowly.
That was all right because he didn't want to be free so much as he didn't want to be caught.
This was a trap, but it wasn't His trap.
Perhaps, the wolf thought, as his good legs collapsed again, perhaps it would be good not to run anymore. The ground was cold and wet underneath him, and the flush of heat from fever and the frantic journey drained into the chill of his surroundings. He
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Patricia Briggs
Patricia Briggs is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Mercy Thompson urban fantasy series and the Alpha and Omega novels.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Patricia Briggs
- 2010, 320 Seiten, Maße: 10,8 x 17,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Ace Books
- ISBN-10: 0441019420
- ISBN-13: 9780441019427
- Erscheinungsdatum: 15.07.2011
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Entertaining. LocusMany enjoyable aspects of the world-building and characters to savour. And a sweet and touching tentative romance. Urban Fantasy Book Reviews
Kommentar zu "Masques"
0 Gebrauchte Artikel zu „Masques“
| Zustand | Preis | Porto | Zahlung | Verkäufer | Rating |
|---|
Schreiben Sie einen Kommentar zu "Masques".
Kommentar verfassen