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420 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 27, 2011
This was a little too suspicious, as anyone who was studied in the botanical nature of the Trui’Quirre, knew that sage did not grow near oaden trees
Half her height, a small, brown, furry creature, wearing a light brown, hooded cloak and carrying a small rucksack, brandished a tree branch at her and growled malignantly.
She told herself, however, that the house was, more likely, just abandoned, like the village had been, so she plucked up her courage and proceeded to enter.
Chalice was relieved that their passage over the mountain was progressing peacefully. If only it had remained that way.I mean, really. It sounds like the author has a movie playing out in her head, and she just wrote down what she saw to every last detail.
Suddenly, out of the trees from all sides, sprang a band Chinukan guards dressed in thick, dark, furred cloaks, brandishing spears and crossbows at them.
Yes! We did it and no one saw, she told herself, or at least that is what she had thought for in their haste, both of them had failed to see the dark, cloaked figure hidden in the shadow of a large tree across the stream, watching them as they worked.
Dum, dum, duuuum......
"His eyes combed the light of the torches that spotted the mantlet wall of the ward, as if he were looking for minute cracks in it that held the answer."
"In the distance she could hear the bells of the tower ringing in the holiday cheer and songs of merry-making well-wishers going about their business of gift-giving as so many of their ancestors had done for generations past."
Now say that in one breath. Go.
It was early, and morning mist covered the leaves of the thick forest with drops of dew that sparkled in the God rays peeking through the treetops.
On the other side of the mountains, lay Auramont and Branbury was located to the east of Mount Vassa which was an ancient mountain, the oldest in the chain.
Regardless, she seemed lost at this point in her life. For that matter, so was he, too, lost.
"Quiet, Duquaine," he said with a smugness that masked his apprehension.
(...) he hissed as the blood red stone hanging from the cord around his neck shone brilliantly in the darkness, bathing the scene in an ominous red light.
Yes. Because when someone's hissing at you while you're chained to a table, everyone else is taking note of how the light falls upon his necklace and reflects on the walls while he's hissing.
She wore an ocean-blue riding habit that was split in the skirt for straddling a horse and laced with a wavy pattern down the sides. It was comfortable and snug in the bosom and waist, but flared out at the bottom.
Really? But did it have any pockets? Or hidden contraptions to put her knives? You simply must tell us!
To the right of the furniture, a large fireplace was carved into the rock, its hearth a half of a pace above the ground, with a small rock bench jutting out from just below it.
Split firewood lay in a stack to the right of the bench, waiting to be used
Which, PS, they never used.
In the middle of the floor stood a large worktable with hooks above it for hanging kitchen utensils. Next to it sat a large, wood-burning oven, worked in cast iron and black as night. Each wall was given to drawers and cupboards made of finely polished sequoia in which, she assumed, all the kitchenware could be found. Below the kitchen window, looking out onto the waterfront, was a wooden countertop for preparing meals. A portion of it was inlaid with three metallic wash bins, each of which sprouted a spot above, which she assumed provided water for washing.
They spent one. night. in this place. And only one. meal. was eaten here. Fuck you.
Along the hallways, two posts supported the center beam of the roof. Chalice led sunny inside and tied his reins to a hook protruding from one of the posts. She undid the girth strapped around his rib cage, to relieve him of his burden. After placing the saddle on the wooden saddle horse in the tack room and hooking her bags on the wall, she led him into one of the back stalls and removed his bridle and bit. Tossing him a couple flakes of alfalfa from the loft, and setting a large bucket of water in the corner, she closed the stall door and latched it.
Because she couldn't just say something like, you know, just at the top of my head ... "She stabled her horse, relieved him of his riding gear, and made sure she kept him watered before leaving the barn." No. That's too glossed over.
"Jeremiah, hey man! How the heck have you been?"
"Seriously?! A falcon?! Did that really happen?"
"Well done to you, dude!"
"I don't get it, Ben. Why are they so cruel? Where does all this hatred come from?"For God's sake deal with it.
Chalice was also very beautiful, which made it difficult for the boys to spar with her. She had fair skin and a smooth oval face that was caressed by long, golden, butternut curls. They folded down the sides of her cheeks and framed her red rosebud mouth, button nose, and large sapphire eyes that were decorated with long dark eyelashes.
For a moment, he seemed to lose himself in her eyes, drowning in an ocean of blue.
My advice to those who don’t like long descriptions or info-dumping is this: don’t read fantasies that introduce new worlds. The reason is because world-building in these types of books is very important and is something upon which the author spends a good deal of effort. You cannot introduce a new world without descriptions or world-building information. It just can’t be done. If an author tried, the reader would be so lost, they wouldn’t be able to follow the story and then they would really complain. No. The world in which the characters live is essential and cannot be ignored.

Outside she had a full view of what had been blocked by the large copse of trees. In front of her lay a large fenced and gated area of farm animals tucked away safely in their pens. Beyond that sprawled hectares of crop fields and orchards, which were watered by an irrigation system that she had never seen before. It was constructed of what appeared to be pipes, of fireclay material, that extended from the river to the cultivated ground. A small vineyard grew behind an enormous storage barn that sat side-by-side with the house, along the waterfront. Between the two structures was a display of rustic carts and wagons for transporting goods. Behind them, a long, sturdy, wooden ramp stretched deep into the water and supported a huge waterwheel that rotated steadily by the force of the river current catching the wheel's palettes. From a large, wooden box that grew out of the ramp, next to the wheel, ran two sets of thin pipelines, one set extending to the house, the other to the barn.
Chalice was also very beautiful, which made it difficult for the boys to spar with her. She had fair skin and a smooth oval face that was caressed by long, golden, butternut curls. They folded down the sides of her cheeks and framed her red rosebud mouth, button nose, and large sapphire eyes that were decorated with long dark eyelashes. She wore an ocean-blue riding habit that was split in the skirt for straddling a horse and laced with a wavy pattern down the sides. It was comfortable and snug in the bosom and waist, but flared out at the bottom. What held in her body heat, though, was her darkly tanned, hooded, riding cloak that she had made out of lambskin. It was resilient and leathery on the outside for protection, and soft and furry on the inside for warmth. On the ring finger of her right hand, she donned a golden ring with a rare, long-cut, ice-blue diamond set in the heart of it. She was told that it had once belonged to her mother. On her riding dress, just below her left shoulder, hung a sapphire broach given to her by her grandmother, Naelli. However much she valued these gemstones from her mother and grandmother, her favored possession was the golden pendant around her neck that she kept close to her skin, under her garments. It held a golden amulet that Papa had had crafted by Elijah, Créone’s master smith who lived on the outskirts of Canton.
The amulet was a circle that contained three lines meeting in the center and ending on the perimeter, not quite equidistant from one another, so that they formed what looked like a Y enclosed in the circle. The amulet was special, not only because it was a gift from Papa, whom she loved dearly, but also because it was the exact shape of a distinct and unique birthmark on her right shoulder. At one time she had been doubtful that she was born with the mark because it was so unusual, but Papa had sworn that she was. He called it her lucky charm. Chalice was just shy of her eighteenth birthday, and he had been preparing something special for her. She suspected that the surprise was not of material gifts, though, but of the knowledge that she longed for her whole ife, the knowledge of her family. All she had ever known about herself, from the earliest she could remember, was that she was Chalice Pandretti, granddaughter to Sebastian and NaelliPandretti, who ran the Inn and Winery on Canton Run. Of her past and the existence of the rest of her family, she knew nothing. She had always wondered if maybe she had been an unwanted child. It was something that haunted her constantly. When she asked Papa about it, he said that she wasn’t old enough to know, that she must not ask further, and then he remained silent. For the celebration of her eighteenth birthday, he gave subtle hints that he would break that silence but it was too late. The village had been attacked and she had had to flee before the King’s men reached the inn. Now she despaired that she would never know.
