A
princess, trained to behave. An assassin, betrothed to her. A thief, whose eyes she dreams of at night. A kingdom at war, torn apart by the suppression of magic and truth, as well as family secrets that threaten to destroy decades of peace.
Questions of loyalty, of morality, and of free will culminate in a fantasy novel about forging one’s own path and choosing one’s own destiny.
Now
Overhead, the sky is sparkling. The hills crest right below the moon and the tableau, in other circumstances, would be breathtaking. However, as I wade through corpses, I’m not focused on scenery. My quiver is by my side, but I am plucking arrows from the dead. This is not a time for waste.
I was once the type of person who was impressed by starlight, the type of person who would dance beneath glass ceilings and let the world swim in its loveliness. The sky reminds me of the parties we used to throw – parties like the one last night or another party, not that long ago, but one that belongs in another lifetime. The memories bring back the trill of harps and endless ripples of satisfied laughter. Now, though, when I try to recall what I felt, all I hear is screaming.
The troops are gathered, ready for my command. It is senseless. I have no military experience, no concept of how to lead. They come with their bows and swords and guns and they look to me for direction. My father’s last words, before we watched our city fall, were to lead the army to a rendezvous. The army, ever indebted to the king, listened, and I stand, holding remnants of a man’s life in my quiver, having never spilled blood myself.
Over the hills, we’re not sure what awaits us, but it is likely no different than the field of gore through which we trek. I look to the sky again and feel like I can hear the moon laughing. Red marks the entire landscape. Where there were trees now stand charred remains and plumes of smoke. Bones scatter across the earth, buzzards circle, and the smell of rot and death invades my senses. I want to wash myself, but even a long, hot bath could not erase the ruin that clings to me.
Behind us is only suffering. The kingdom has been shattered. Anara stands on the precipice.
Demoria, we were told, was first to go, although the Demorians were fortunate in that the majority of them were stationed in camps around the other kingdoms. Syllab was ashes before the news even reached Kooram. While we danced and thrilled ourselves with frivolity, the world’s teleportation centers were demolished, cites were razed, and death marched on us, like a silent sentinel.
The air is full of the stench of carnage. I continue to gather arrows as we move, but the bodies are thinning. The remnants of war are visible in the atmosphere and the once fertile prairie is now an arid stretch of debris. Sanguine rivers intercept our path.
“Alondra, we must continue forward. Their troops are amassing and it will not be long. We must make camp before daybreak.”
Ereditus is right; if the sun comes up and illuminates our position, the war will be over. Although the objective is to end the war, it is not to end it with my death.
I nod and continue the path through the remains of my kinsmen and my people. The sun is coming and we must get to the caves. I feel a hand on mine and turn to see Seamus. His sword is dripping crimson. Ragged marks lace his arms and hands. His eyes are dark and the sorrow is palpable.
“Only a bit further,” he says to comfort me. We have hours to go, but I know that he is reassuring us all. If we can make it to the caves, we can regrou
p, tally our losses, and strategize. “I, for one, am ready for a nap.”
“It is uncanny that you can joke right now,” I tell him, but he coaxes a smile. There is security in the casualness of his comment, and his hand feels warm. I squeeze it, happy to have the familiarity of his touch.
“I aim to please.” His returned smile is a grimace, thanks to the slash that runs across his cheek. It’s funny to think that, only a few months ago, I was preparing myself for a date with Seamus, having my hair braided and my eyes lined with shadow.
As we walk on towards dawn, I clench his hand tighter and try to forget how we got here.
Then
“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Around the flaming tree in the middle of the courtyard, the tree behind which I have been hiding for the greater part of an hour, the voice snakes itself through the flame. It is soon followed by a body, but in the flickering heat, he is a mere silhouette.
“I’m choosing to take a break,” I say in my defense.
“I see. I was unaware that those who lived within the castle walls had such a thing as a choice,” he says. There is laughter in the voice, but it’s taunting. It is also accurate, and that bothers me most of all.
“Are you here to mock me?”
As he steps closer, his eyes come into focus first. He appears as a mirage, a man wrapped in fire. However, through the darkness, blue swirls glow and draw my attention. He is young, not much older than I am, and he is not shy as he reaches for my hand and brings me closer to his body. Although my parents have sent me on a number of courting visits to other kingdoms – and many princes and nobles both young and old have held my hand in the same way – my body responds to his touch and I allow it.
“I only speak what I see, what I know,” he argues. “I know that you are hiding behind this tree for a reason.”
Inside my mind, my mother’s voice and the day’s earlier lecture echo. Alondra, I expect obedience tonight. There are many coming to join us for this party and I have a surprise for you. This is not a night for your antics and I will be watching. Do not make me assign you a guard again.
I think the threat was the inciting factor. The moment I was able to slip away, I did, and I have been in the courtyard avoiding the “surprise” since. Holding this young man with the sapphire eyes’ hand, it comes to mind to give my mother a surprise of her own.
“Curfew is not for a few more hours,” I whisper. “The majority of Kooram dances in the great hall. The entirety of the village could be explored in quiet.”
The stranger picks up on the suggestion immediately and smiles. It’s a dangerous grin, wise and knowing and mysterious, and I know mischief and trouble are his consistent companions. I return the smile, because they are companions for which I yearn in the darkest hours of the night. Squeezing his hand tighter, I turn toward the gates, to lead him into the village proper.
He spins me around to face him, my body drawn flush with his, and he leans down to press his lips to mine. It is not my first kiss, but it is a kiss that demands more to follow. When we part, I know that I will be learning all sorts of secrets tonight.
Sarah Daltry writes about the regular people who populate our lives. She’s written works in various genres – romance, erotica, fantasy, horror. Genre isn’t as important as telling a story about people and how their lives unfold. Sarah tends to focus on YA/NA characters but she’s been known to shake it up. Most of her stories are about relationships – romantic, familial, friendly – because love and empathy are the foundation of life. It doesn’t matter if the story is set in contemporary NY, historical Britain, or a fantasy world in the future – human beings are most interesting in the ways they interact with others. This is the principle behind all of Sarah’s stories.
Sarah has spent most of her life in school, from her BA and MA in English and writing to teaching both at the high school and college level. She also loves studying art history and really anything because learning is fun.
When Sarah isn’t writing, she tends to waste a lot of time checking Facebook for pictures of cats, shooting virtual zombies, and simply staring out the window.
Get to Know Sarah
What makes you laugh?
Random nonsense really. And cute animals. Also sarcasm.
What Olympic sport would you like to try?
I always wanted to try luge. My dad even built me a “luge track” in our backyard as a kid (really, it was just a small icy hill). Then people thought it was funny to say that made me a “luger.” It sort of lost its appeal after that. Also because I realized there is nowhere to learn to luge.
When in your life have you had a “now or never” moment?
I guess writing. I was sitting with my grandmother at lunch one afternoon, after my grandfather had passed away, and we were talking about life in general. She told me all about my aunt and how she had dreamed of being a writer. The thing is… she never did. Life just sort of got away from her. I realized as she was talking that I was on that path. I always wrote and I said someday I would do this, but I was teaching and hating it. So I made the incredibly stupid decision to give up my career and pick up whatever jobs I could to make money, while I allowed writing to become a real, full-time thing. The jury is still out on this, I think. I’ve poured all my savings into it and I’m struggling financially (luckily, I lived on a teacher and librarian income for a while before, so I’ve never been used to luxury anyway). I guess, if nothing else, I can at least say I tried.
If you had your own TV network what would you put on it?
Jeopardy. Alex Trebek would have to become an android so he could run it 24 hours a day.
What grown-up job did you want to have when you were a child?
I wanted to be a cartoon.
If you had an extra room in your house what would you use it for?
I have several extra rooms. They’re cluttered with books.
What band would you camp out all night to get tickets to see?
I think you underestimate my epic hatred of leaving the house and being near people. I don’t even like to go to concerts and, if I do, I choose seats in the far back corner away from everyone. But I really like Green Day and Tori Amos. I used to go to concerts 5-6 nights a week, but that was when my anxiety was still controllable.
What creeps you out?
Creepy? Spiders and bugs. Also people touching me.
What is the best costume you have worn?
I went as Miss Havisham the year after my wedding. I used my wedding dress and veil and bought cobweb stuff and spiders from the dollar store and went all out.
What TV show are you embarrassed about watching?
The Bachelor/ette
Who taught you to drive?
My dad for a few years. We moved and I was just about to get my license when we moved, and the age limit here was higher so I got to do it all over again. I had a permit for almost two full years because of it.
What movie inspires you?
I don’t know. Tree of Life is universally inspirational, but personally, I really like movies like Safety Not Guaranteed or Once. Small movies that no one really knows about, but are impactful enough to earn recognition. I mean, Once has a Broadway show now!!
What poem do you have committed to memory?
“Kubla Khan,” a few of Shakespeare’s sonnets, and “Resume” by Dorothy Parker
If you could have a room full of any one thing, what would it be?
Cats
What is one of your favorite quotes?
From my cowriter for Backward Compatible:
“Everyone plays the hero in his or her own story. What you have to ask yourself is, in how many stories do you play the villain?” or “People disappoint. Especially the good people. Everyone is just pieces of someone you already know, someone who has already disappointed you. And I’m just like them all. And I can’t get away from me.”
Are you a good public speaker?
No. I taught for many years and I’ve acted, but I hate speaking to people in public. Or really, in general. Acting helped, because when I have to, I just convince myself I’m acting like someone else.
Whats your favorite zoo animal?Tiger, but I don’t like zoos. Animals shouldn’t be kept in cages.
What book do you keep rereading?
The Catcher in the Rye
Do you ever dog ear your books?Yes! I love my books to look used and loved. They’re written in, dog eared, bent, and loved. I absolutely adore old books, because there is a story in the book itself as an object as much as there is one within. I have found letters, notes, locks of hair, dried flowers, photos, all kinds of personal things tucked into the pages of old books I’ve bought and I love the mystery of the person who put them there.
What kind of books do you like to read? Why?I love all books, but my favorites are books where I believe the story. I don’t read to escape. I read to feel connected. I love books where I feel the character “gets” me or that he or she makes the same choices I would. To steal from The Catcher in the Rye, “What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though.”
How do you pick the books you want to read?
Usually I just grab what’s closest to me.
What type of characters do you like?
People who feel like they would be the kind of people I would take with me on a road trip and want to stay up late talking to by the fire.
GIVEAWAY
3 Winners will receive an E-Copy of Primordial Dust by Sarah Daltry.
1 Winner will receive a $10 Amazon gift card and Swag pack by Sarah Daltry.
1 Winner will receive a Swag Pack by Sarah Daltry.
Must be 13+ to Enter International Giveaway
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