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Dreams of the Compass Rose [MultiFormat]
eBook by Vera Nazarian
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eBook Category: Fantasy Nebula Award(R) Preliminary Ballot Nominee
eBook Description:  The Compass Rose universe--an ancient milieu where places have no names, cities spring forth like bouquets in the desert, gods and dreams walk the scorching sands in the South, ice floats like mirror shards upon the Northern sea, islands that do not exist are found in the East, death chases a thief on the rooftops of a Western city, immortal love spans time, and directions are intertwined into one road we all travel.... You come to this place when you wonder, and sometimes, only when you dream. When a young warrior of a dark race finds himself bound in servitude to a beautiful cruel princess, his loyalty becomes entwined with something more horrifying and mysterious than endless night falling over the ancient desert. When a courageous young servant reveals her hidden wisdom to the madman conqueror of the world, her fate is joined to a nightmare suspended beyond death and outside the universe. Two souls from different times--their destinies connected through hundreds of other lives and generations, through soft whispers of the wind, through ancient truths that lie buried in an island between worlds. Both souls enslaved through dream and desire in an endless conflict between truth and illusion. They can only be set free by the wonder of the Compass Rose.
eBook Publisher: Wildside Press, Published: USA, 2002
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2003
25 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [392 KB]
, ePub (EPUB) [315 KB]
, Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [349 KB]
, Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.2 MB]
, Palm Doc (PDB) [396 KB]
, Microsoft Reader (LIT) [310 KB]
, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [358 KB]
, hiebook (KML) [898 KB]
, Sony Reader (LRF) [393 KB]
, iSilo (PDB) [327 KB]
, Mobipocket (PRC) [405 KB]
, Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [452 KB]
, OEBFF Format (IMP) [529 KB]
Words: 125187
Reading time: 357-500 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
 
"...a clever concoction of vignettes and short stories knitted into a morality tale about the temptation of illusion and the price of truth ... an exotic setting reminiscent of Tanith Lee's Flat Earth series.... The author's sumptuous language will resonate with Lord Dunsany and Clark Ashton Smith fans.... Nazarian's vital themes and engaging characters are sure to entertain."--Publishers Weekly
"Nazarian's story cycle treads the borderline between the episodic novel and the short-story collection, recalling the work of contemporary fantasist Charles de Lint, early-twentieth-century fantasist Lord Dunsany ... a singularly appealing book by a new voice in fantasy."--Roland Green, Booklist
Dream One
Amarantea In the metallic blur of the horizon, below the cumulus cloud skies, lies Amarantea. . . . It is violet, lavender, or indigo, at dawn, noon, and dusk. It is where the soul flies in search of wonder, when sleep takes you by the eyelashes. . . . So it was told, in all the lands of the Compass Rose. It was also related, in the late cozy evenings by the marigold hearth, when children settled to absorb the ancestral wisdom of their elders, that Amarantea was a place between worlds, inaccessible. One such child, sitting at her Grandmother's knee, asked insistently every night to hear the story, until Grandmother nearly went daft with repetition. "Tell me of the beast that inhabits the island kingdom!" little Learra cried. "The one that has no name, and that can only be seen when it sleeps! Tell me of the king of Amarantea, who has wed a woman with no eyes! I want to hear the words of the greatest Truth that are inscribed upon the coffin of brass -- the one that is within the anonymous sepulcher of the unknown one!" "The beast that has no name does not want nosy little girls to know anything more about it," Grandmother said. "And neither does the king and his poor wife. As to the words of Truth on the brass coffin -- why, I've recited them to you over a dozen times." "One more time, please!" "It says," Grandmother began to speak with the patience of an antique maple, "that whatever lies within this grave is the only source of evil. And it should not be disturbed by you or me, or anyone with the least bit of brains, for that matter. Nor should silly questions be pursued beyond a certain point." "No, no!" insisted Learra. "I want to hear the real words, please, not your own, Grandmother!" "Ah . . . What's an old woman to do, when her words are no longer considered real? Very well. It says: 'The soul is a flower, severed from its stem, bearing seed, planted at birth, reaped in death, but never discarded in the bottomless well.'" "But that says nothing about evil. And what strange words! What does it all mean?" "How should I know?" said the Grandmother, moving her embroidery needle through cotton fabric. "Then how do you know the words at all?" "Why -- I was told them when I was your size, little one." Learra touched a small hand to her Grandmother's sunken cheek, saying, "Then I must find out, before I am your size." In the mists that form the edge of the world, sleeps Amarantea. . . . Copyright © 2002 by Vera Nazarian
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