Entranced (Prince of the Doomed City, #1)

by Sylvia Mercedes

“Are you going to keep plucking away at that same note over and over again, boy? You’re like a little fly, pluck-pluck-pluck, buzz-buzz-buzz. And what is this dolorous tune? Are you playing for a funeral or a feast? I’d heard the king was dying, not dead.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the entertainment? You look about as lively as a rain-drenched peacock, all your pretty plumes dragging in the mud. No wonder the folk below are such dull company.”

Deciding not to borrow trouble from the future when the present is plenty complicated as it is, I face the Prince again.

You know the books themselves may be just objects; it’s what they contain that may threaten lives and worlds. The keeping and exchanging of ideas across cultures, across generations, across continents and worlds, is one of the most dangerous acts of humanity.

Hmm interesting view Why?

The spell-casting knowledge of the Miphates has been lost in the human world, but the potential for magic lingers on in every human soul. That magic must and will find new ways to manifest.

What you read is not a traditional spell the way you’ve been brought up to think of spells. The magic lies in the writer’s ability to make his prose implant in his reader’s brain. There it becomes something real. It’s that interaction of the two—writer and reader—that gives the magic its opportunity to rise.

All those human minds interacting with words on a page, transforming words into a new reality. A reality that must manifest somewhere . . .

Not even my father’s darkest, most popular tales had ever matched Keldi’s for true horror. Horror that embedded itself in the minds of her readers . . . until the sheer power generated by all those minds brought something new to life from the darkness