Windmaster Legacy - Ellspeth and the dark-haired archmage Dal, escort his mother on a final journey to her ancestral lands. Their plans change when mercenaries under the control of the rogue mage, Bashim, attack. Dal's mother is fatally wounded. Ellspeth is captured and her sole hope for escape is Nobyn, an untrained wizard going through the throes of awakening magic. However, Nobyn is Bashim's apprentice and under the mage's total control.
Dal must make an impossible decision whether to rescue Ellspeth, save his mother, or thwart Bashim's plans. As archmage, Dal might be able to survive killing the future of magic, but as a man could he live with the knowledge he caused the death of a loved one.
Excerpt 1 ( Captured) Pain from being tossed over someone’s hard shoulder momentarily cleared Ellspeth's mind. Captured. She struggled against her bindings and the steel-hard arm around her waist.
“The old woman doesn’t have the circlet. Leave her.” This time there was a familiar edge to the voice of the man leading the attack. Ellspeth’s heart sank at his next words. “She’s done for anyway.”
Ellspeth did not quite have the name to go with the voice. The identification danced just outside of her grasp. It came closer when he yelled. “We have our silver-haired prize. Retreat.”
As the blackness that lingered just outside her consciousness moved in, Ellspeth cast a mental cry into the night. Dal, I need you. With her last spark of thought, she added, I love you.
Dal must make an impossible decision whether to rescue Ellspeth, save his mother, or thwart Bashim's plans. As archmage, Dal might be able to survive killing the future of magic, but as a man could he live with the knowledge he caused the death of a loved one.
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Excerpt 1 ( Captured)
Pain from being tossed over someone’s hard shoulder momentarily cleared Ellspeth's mind. Captured. She struggled against her bindings and the steel-hard arm around her waist.
“The old woman doesn’t have the circlet. Leave her.” This time there was a familiar edge to the voice of the man leading the attack. Ellspeth’s heart sank at his next words. “She’s done for anyway.”
Ellspeth did not quite have the name to go with the voice. The identification danced just outside of her grasp. It came closer when he yelled. “We have our silver-haired prize. Retreat.”
As the blackness that lingered just outside her consciousness moved in, Ellspeth cast a mental cry into the night. Dal, I need you. With her last spark of thought, she added, I love you.