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Blood Dawn [Dark Brothers of the Light Book III] [MultiFormat]
eBook by Janrae Frank
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eBook Category: Dark Fantasy/Fantasy
eBook Description: The #1 Bestselling Dark Fantasy Saga Concludes Amid "Gothic angst and sexuality!" In the final book in Janrae Frank's stunning trilogy, the hellgod, Gylorean has been released and a world trembles on the brink of catastrophe. Terribly wounded, the young necromancer Isranon, blood-slave to Anksha, a demon eater, seeks the staff of his ancestor, the Dawnhand, his world's only defense against the hellgod. Isranon encounters a mysterious woman healer named Nans, and becomes involved with her band of refugees, fleeing Minnoras where Gylorean was released. Outlawed and pursued by bounty-hunters, Isranon tries desperately to survive until he can find the sacred staff. But Isranon himself is in desperate need of healing, and his only hope is to trick a god, the Sun-Lord, Kaliron! Magic and morality highlight the conclusion of this unique dark fantasy! Violence, adult situations and scenes. "Janrae Frank immerses the reader in her world. Janrae Frank has rounded up the usual suspects from central European myths and embellished with gothic angst and sexuality. Each character has an agenda--whether it's a plan to fulfill, a rival to dispose of, or a principle to keep--from the lowliest slave to the most selfish vampire lord. Their desires, their tensions, their frustrations set the tone for the trilogy. The protagonist Isranon is the last of the Dark Brothers: an order of pacifists in a world of parasites and cannibals. His dignity and magical weakness make him something of a novelty and as such Anksha (a demon-eater whose proclivities make Lucretia Borgia and Elisabeth Bathory look like a pair of menopausal Avon ladies) quickly singles him out for repeated feedings. His struggles to stay alive and true to his teachings are nicely handled. Although prophecy and the weight of history help to shape the story, the characters drive the plot. Worth a second read. Just so long as there isn't another 'green imps and ham' line!"--Phil Smith
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/PageTurner, Published: 2004
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2005
This eBook is part of the following series:
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.3 MB], eReader (PDB) [262 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [253 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [224 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [218 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [267 KB], hiebook (KML) [598 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [350 KB], iSilo (PDB) [208 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [260 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [303 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [331 KB]
Words: 76382
Reading time: 218-305 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
 
CHAPTER one. fall of minnorasTwo days from Minnoras, Timon began to see people on the road. They had crossed the Idar River above the place where it fed into the Hillora, and struck the south road to Minnoras a day back, then the main road that morning. The highway was wide and deeply rutted by the passage of countless wagons over the centuries. Scattered stands of white pine sprinkled through with red oaks leaned out across the edges of the road with a barrier of green leafy brush and tall plumed grasses between the stands and stretched to the forest proper. They passed no one going south toward the city, but many people going north. The majority traveled hurriedly with just the clothes they wore, not so much as a pack on their backs or a bag on a stick. Occasionally heavily laden wagons rolled past accompanied by several outriders. Timon saw haunted, frightened faces everywhere. Timon had ridden out with a token guard of ten royals. He had seen no need to bring lycan scouts. This should have been enough for anything they might face; now he began to wonder. He could tell that these people were running from something-all of them. He spied a female with three children and seeing her without a male to protect her was odd; women rarely traveled alone. "You there!" Timon called to the female. He dismounted and squatted in front of her. She cowered, clutching her children tight. She flinched from his gaze, dropping her head like a whipped dog. Timon frowned at the fear he saw in her eyes. "What are you running from? Is there trouble in Minnoras? I won't hurt you." "Bad trouble," the mon said, shifting uneasily. "All the priests are dead. Something howls in the night on the rooftops. Folks going missing." Timon reached in his pouch, pulled out some coins, and put them in her hand. "Make for Shaurone, mon." Shaurone was the most powerful nation on the continent, and the most willing to take in refugees. While Vallimrah was nearly as strong, the Valdren, one of the six high races of sylvans, were an insular lot, and did not like humans entering their lands. In Timon's estimation, Rowanhart was already shaping up as the third strongest realm under the Sacred King, but it was much farther from Minnoras and harder to reach. She would still have to travel through Angrim and Beltria, realms Timon had a serious dislike for because their aggressively monotheistic religion denied both the Gods of Light and the hellgods. He doubted the Angrimers and Beltrians would harm a lone female with children and their roads were closely guarded. "Yes, lord. I intend to. Thank you, lord." Then she fled with her children. Timon remounted and they rode further before anyone spoke. "Sounds like Zyne has gone rogue," Amiri said. She and Zulaika rode closest to Timon. "My father should have sent word by now," Timon said thoughtfully. "We had a decent network in place for such possibilities. Furthermore, Zyne is not sa. Bodramet's papers said sa'nekaryiane." His father had several winged shifters that he could have sent with messages. If he had sent them, they had not arrived at the estate. Timon had always relied on riders and birds. None of his Borealysyn were mirror-gifted or shifters. If myn did not have that gift before becoming undead, they did not develop it. A warrior mage in his days as a living mon, his father had it. He had learned it in Imralon on the island continent of Sealandia before they were forced to flee the wrath of Willodarus. They had clearly not planned for contingencies as well as they had believed. Timon had never told his father that his choices of who dwelled at the estate were based on the secretive philosophy of the Borealysyn that he had founded without his father's knowledge. "The best laid plans," Zulaika replied. Timon nodded. He had always been cautious by nature, made more so by the circumstances of his death four thousand years ago. His father took chances enough for both of them. Which was not to say that his father was reckless, only more willing to take risks. Timon wondered if Hoon had lost this toss of the dice as he had so many recent gambles. Hoon's legendary luck seemed to be finally running out on him. "Unless he's doing this himself?" Zulaika suggested. Timon shook his head. "Destroying a city is not my father's idea of getting himself a kingdom. It has to be the sa'nekaryiane's work. All the more reason to reach my father." Or would he? Destroy a city? A rumor had come from Charas that Hoon had slain all of his nibari and others who might have told the Sacred King where to find his holdings once it became clear he would lose. * * * *The candles had burned nearly out in the little lamps, and the stink of drowned wicks in liquid wax trailed across the room with thin plumes of black smoke. Darkness stole across the study like a stalking cat. The wingback chairs rested on clawed feet in the center before an ornate walnut desk with curved, flaring legs that narrowed into wooden paws. Hoon sat at his desk, brooding, his eyes distant. Something had gone wrong, but what and where? He saw very little of Zyne these days. His venomous secondary nails had slid from beneath his primary nails to drip little pools of poison as he pressed them into the wood. A knock at his door preceded its opening and two Lemyari and a lycan entered: Kalmaryn, Telemon and Imric. "Lord, I think we are about to be betrayed," Kalmaryn told him, and then gave him the rest of the tale of what they had seen across several nights of watching Zyne. Hoon considered their words, and found his thoughts drawn back to a time when he and Mephistis had stood upon the battlements of his lost citadel near Norendel. "You are a dangerous dreamer, Hoon. And you begin to frighten me," Mephistis had said. To which Hoon had replied, "I would not need to free the Hellgod, I would make a new one." But he had not made a new one; he had released one-that vapor from the box. "I agree. Galee gave me a box to place by Zyne's head when she rose. I think more came out of it than information. I think Galee came out of the box." "Is that possible?" Kalmaryn asked, frowning. "With Galee, anything is possible. Have you seen any new royals?" They thought about his question. Yes, they had seen a few. Hoon sighed. "Get everyone out. 'Amalthea to Jedrua.' I will leave last." "Lord?" Kalmaryn sounded alarmed, both by the fact that Hoon intended to leave last, and that he had spoken that particular code. Amalthea meant that they were to flee as swiftly as possible, stopping for nothing, all the way to Hoon's estates on the southern continent of Jedrua. "Get out. If I don't reach Jedrua, Timon is your lord." "Yes, lord." Kalmaryn bowed himself out, his expression grave. The word was spread through the mansion and once the last of them had left safely, Hoon sealed the secret passages beneath the house with a word of command lodged in a crystal, and then destroyed the crystal. * * * *Timon could taste the fear laying like a fog over the streets and oozing from the buildings. It lingered in the back of his throat like the taste of bad blood. This city was not a cup he wished to drink from. Timon saw no children playing in the streets. The few people abroad walked quickly without meeting anyone's eyes, their cloaks pulled tight around them against the early autumn wind. A glance at his companions told Timon that they tasted fear also, as well as noticing its manifestations. He had intended to spend several days here. Now he just wanted to get the flute, warn his father, and leave. No. He just wanted to leave. Timon wished he had brought Anksha; who could have told him much more than his own senses could. But she had remained behind to guard the estate and Isranon. Something was out there, something none of his kind had seen in many millenniums. He needed to see it for himself, to make a judgment call on this, to take its measure. He was not a captain who ordered his myn into battle, but one who led. Until he had done so, he would not risk Anksha who might be the only one strong enough to stop it. No one came to take their horses when they entered the mansion grounds. He signed to his companions to wait there, dismounted and knocked on the door. A servant Timon remembered answered. He turned haunted eyes to Timon. "The master is in his garden," the servant whispered. Timon nodded. The place was empty. As he passed the table in the great hall he saw that everything had been removed on it and in the middle were two objects: dried flowers, azaleas and jasmine. Amalthea to Jedrua. The code. They were to disperse and flee to Jedrua. Everyone had been sent away. Timon climbed the stairs to the rooftop garden and found his father. Hoon sat on the bench beside his withered plants, staring out across the city. He remained sitting, as if unable to take his eyes from what he saw. "Timon! I was sending this to you today, but I see you've come for it instead. He picked up an envelope from a stack before him and handed it to Timon. "Turn around and go. I sent everyone away this morning that could be spared. The rest will go tonight." Timon took the envelope. "What went wrong?" "I don't know," Hoon said, sounding distracted. "The city has become flooded by sa'necari, lesser bloods, royals that I do not know. Several of my people have been killed." Timon tensed. "People I know?" "Zinzi. They left her head hanging from my gatepost with a note saying they knew me. Ulik has vanished and all his birds are dead. Galee is in the city. I feel her." Zinzi. I should have confided in you. "Galee? Father, Galee was destroyed. The Twice-Born Son tore her head off." Galee had turned his father. Timon had wondered for centuries how long his father, Brandrahoon, could continue hiding from the vengeance of Dynarien, the Twice-Born Son. He sometimes felt as if that yuwenghau son of Willodarus, God of the Woodlands and Wild Creatures, was close to breathing down all of their necks. Sooner or later Dynarien and his twin sister Dynanna God of Cussedness and Perversity would come after all of them. The divine pair, warrior-brother and trickster-sister, were very dangerous. They had destroyed Galee. Surely she could not have returned. Hoon finally looked up at his son. "There is something else in the city. Something that smells like a yuwenghau, but different." He stood suddenly, and seized Timon in a tight embrace. "Whatever happens, Timon, remember that I love you." "I love you, too, father," Timon responded, struggling to Read the mon. "There are fresh horses in the stable. Take them and get out." Timon gazed into his father's eyes. When he released his father and left, his spirit felt troubled. His father's words hung in his mind like a proclamation of disaster. What smelled like a yuwenghau but wasn't? Irrfelghau? Oh, hells let it not be an irrfelghau, the dark opposite of the yuwenghau, the get of the hellgods. A sa'nekaryiane and irrfelghau both? Godwar. And my people with no gods to turn to.
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