Dance of Shadows
Endorsements
True epic fantasy at its best. Hogan presents an engaging world that bristles with danger, characters you love (and love to hate), and a thrill-ride story that keeps you guessing ... and turning pages!
—T.E. Bradford, author of The Divide Series
In the second installment of her breathtaking series, Hogan expands her intriguing fantasy world, deepens her unforgettable characters, and raises the stakes until the book becomes impossible to put down. I came into Dance of Shadows with high expectations and was far from disappointed! Each character is on a unique journey of hardship, self-discovery, joy, and heartache, and I look forward with great anticipation to seeing how the author uses her expert storytelling to bring each of the intertwining plots to a satisfying conclusion.
--Laurie Lucking, author of Common
People are talking about Winter Queen, Book One of the
Winter Queen Series
Erica Marie Hogan has the unique gift of writing in living color. Winter Queen picked me up and dropped me into another place and time. Hogan’s ability to take the reader from a comfy chair to great adventure is priceless. For those of us who enjoy escape reading--Winter Queen does not disappoint!
—Shelley Pierce, author, The Wish I Wished Last Night and Battle Buddies
Winter Queen drew me in immediately with its strong women characters, elaborate world building and ongoing tensions. It is everything a fantasy novel should be, and I can’t wait to read more.
—Sue A. Fairchild, author, What You Think You Know
Erica Marie Hogan
Copyright Notice
Dance of Shadows—The Winter Queen Series Book 2
First edition. Copyright © 2018 by Erica Marie Hogan. The information contained in this book is the intellectual property of Erica Marie Hogan and is governed by United States and International copyright laws. All rights reserved. No part of this publication, either text or image, may be used for any purpose other than personal use. Therefore, reproduction, modification, storage in a retrieval system, or retransmission, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, for reasons other than personal use, except for brief quotations for reviews or articles and promotions, is strictly prohibited without prior written permission by the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Characters are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover and Interior Design: Derinda Babcock
Editor(s): Deb Haggerty
Author Represented by Hartline Literary Agency
PUBLISHED BY: Elk Lake Publishing, Inc., 35 Dogwood Dr., Plymouth, MA 02360, 2018
Library Cataloging Data
Names: Hogan, Erica Marie (Erica Marie Hogan
Dance of Shadows—The Winter Queen Series Book 2 / Erica Marie Hogan
246 p. 23cm × 15cm (9in × 6 in.)
Description: The Winter Queen has brought the storm ... and the Abyss roams the halls of Blood Keep.
Identifiers: ISBN-13: 978-1-948888-60-8 (trade) | 978-1-948888-61-5 (POD)
| 978-1-948888-62-2 (e-book.)
Key Words: Fantasy, Speculative Fiction, Justice, Female Protagonist, Tolkien, Robert Jordan, Relationships
LCCN: 2018957020 Fiction
Dedication
For my mom.
You are stronger than you realize.
I love you.
Acknowledgments
First, let me say I am so happy A Dance of Shadows is complete! I am thankful to family, friends, and readers who have encouraged me for years to pursue my writing, even when others tried to diminish my dream. There were a few times I wasn’t certain I’d make it through this book. But with the support I received, I survived to the end and am now full of energy for the next step in this journey!
Special Thanks to:
Deb Haggerty—for all the work you do for your authors! With every book we work on together, I learn something and grow more excited to continue this journey of writing.
Derinda Babcock—for my beautiful cover! You did such an amazing job putting together exactly what I wanted. Especially since I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted and can be picky. Thank you!
Jim Hart—for being an agent who listens when I get nervous and reassures me to keep moving forward.
T.E. Bradford, Beckie Lindsay, Linda Wood Rondeau and Laurie Lucking—for joining my launch party! Thank you so much for your support, and thank you T.E. Bradford and Laurie Lucking for your beautiful endorsements of Dance of Shadows!
As always, I thank my Creator for His many blessings and love as I strive to live the life I believe He wants for me.
Prologue
The City of Sunkai
A harsh winter wind howled against the walls of the Blood Keep. The streets were empty, market stalls overturned with food and clothes scattered across the marketplace up and down the Lower Village. Sunkai was silent, not a sound to be heard save for the scurrying of mice down the alleys and the angry roar of the Nfaros Sea crashing on the shore.
Lathan Jandry heard nothing amiss in the city that had suffered such a horrendous display of blood magic as he strode across the practice yard, taking the long way to the stables. He had discarded the king’s colors of black and red, dressing instead in dull browns and grays. They would not distinguish him from any other traveler leaving the city. His gray cloak, fraying at the edges where caught by the wind, was tied securely around his shoulders—the hood protected his face from any who might recognize him.
Lathan moved as a shadow down the stone steps, turning sharply to the right at the bottom before he entered the stable yards. There was no boy to ready his horse—not at this hour of the night after the bells had been rung and all were to be in their beds. The law was clear and had been enforced with brutality this night after the rising up of the outraged rebels in the city. Lathan himself had taken up his sword, but had been unable to act. Not with his brother locked away in the Keep’s dungeons. Not with everything else at stake. The guards had even been dismissed from the gates, all of them gathered close to the Blood Keep entries to watch for any who would seek revenge for the life of Brae Sundragon.
He winced just thinking her name. She’d been his sister by law—she’d been as close to him as any other member of his family, and he had failed her. He should’ve trusted her when she said Raphaela Kael intended to imprison her. He should’ve trusted she knew Raphaela’s true intentions for her. Lathan shivered, buffing his arms to gain some warmth.
The first snow had fallen mere moments after Brae’s death, leaving Sunkai covered in a thin layer of white frost quickly melting away. Winter had begun, and the wind grew colder with each passing moment. His sword swayed against his hip beneath the cloak, and he reached under, gripping the hilt securely. A foul scent was on the air tonight, one that filled the senses of every person in the city.
Blood. Brae’s blood. Stale and cold on the streets. Lathan’s lip curled in a snarl. He punched open the door to the stable, startling the horses within.
His trusted horse, Storm, stomped about in his stall, black eyes wild as he sensed his rider’s tension. Lathan quickly saddled the animal and was buckling the leather bridle into place when he heard the creak of the stable doors. For a moment, he thought the sound was just the wind, but then the sound of a man’s boots thudding against the weak wooden floors of the stable reached his ears. Lathan drew his sword with a sharp hiss, spinning to face the intruder.
“Blessed Sun, Lathan!” Maxx growled, holding up gloved hands. He glared at his brother. “Put that down!”
Lathan lowered the blade slowly, his eyes roaming over his younger brother cautiously. He was dressed just as Lathan, only in blacks, so he would blend into the night. The glimmer of his silver sword hilt peeked out from his left hip while the dagger given to him by Brecken upon his promotion to Lieutenant was strapped securely to his right.
“What are you doing here, Maxx?” Lathan snapped, thrusting his sword back into its scabbard before turning his back to finish preparing Storm.
“The same as you.” He eyed his brother as Maxx went for the stall across from Lathan’s, gently coaxing Wind Racer from his bed. “I’m going to find our niece.”
“It’s too dangerous. We can’t both disappear on Brecken, and you have a stronger influence with the king then I do. He trusts you more than he trusts me, and we both know he’ll order my arrest before long.” Lathan gripped Storm’s reins, guiding him out of the stall.
“With his sister running from him, the king trusts no one. He never thought for one moment Damari was working against him all this time.” Maxx tossed his bag over Wind Racer’s rump, tying it securely to the saddle. “Clea and Afra are in the wind, and there’s no way to get to Brecken. Even if we tried, Raphaela would accuse us of treason for trying to see him and sentence us both. I’ve done all I can for Brecken. He’s on his own now.”
“I can’t let you do this, Maxx.”
“You can’t stop me, Lathan.” Maxx mounted, adjusting his cloak over Wind Racer’s back before turning to his brother. “If you think I will sit back while Damari Kael runs blindly across all of Nfaros with our little niece, you are mistaken. Noelle is the one we must protect now. She is the only one we can protect now. She is all that is left of Brae.”
Lathan closed his eyes, tremors rushing through him at the sound of her name.
“I think we both owe Brae this, don’t you?” Maxx’s voice lowered to an angry rumble.
Lathan nodded, swinging into the saddle before taking up his reins. He came alongside his brother as the horses moved slowly from the stable, carrying them leisurely out into the night air. The frozen wind stung Lathan’s skin, but he ignored the cold as he turned to his brother.
“Let’s find Noelle.” He nodded. “Let’s see her safe, far away from this cursed place.”
“Then we will find Adlae.” Maxx grinned.
“Yes. Then we will find Adlae Sundragon, Winter Queen, Sword Maiden of Sunkai and Queen of Nfaros by Blood and Birthright.” Lathan dug his heels into Storm’s sides.
Long live the Sundragon.
The Night Wood
Expelling a long breath, Dominant Gwylan turned her back on the swirl of white fire in the center of their circle. The Night Wood was eerily quiet, the first snow falling lightly on the Sisters’ hair and shoulders, sprinkling them in white powder. A layer of silver coated the ground before melting ever so slowly to soak the dirt beneath their feet. The Intermediates looked at each other, whispering softly as their white cloaks rippled in the wind. None of them felt the cold here, not with the white fire burning to warm the magic within them.
The Novices were huddled closest to the fire, their dark hoods pulled up to hold in as much warmth as they could. With their magic so new inside them, no wonder they sat so close in the circle, trying to draw from the flames—their only source of warmth. The Night Wood was one of the northernmost forests in Nfaros and when winter came, was deadly.
Gwylan sighed, clutching her black cloak around her, marching through the circle, ignoring the burn of the cold as she walked farther and farther away from that flame. There had been rumors of disturbances in their force all day. The power being drained from one of their crystals was undeniable, though most of the Dominants tried to brush the idea off as nonsense. Surely their magic hadn’t been used improperly! Surely there must be some mistake they would rectify shortly. But Gwylan held the strongest power among them, and she knew the Abyss had touched the heart of one of their own. To know such things was a gift among the Eventide Sisters, and only a few of them were granted such power. Gwylan had never wanted to be one of them, but the gift had been given to her by the Creator, and she would not argue.
The horses were restless in their corral as she passed, dancing the perimeter of the crudely carved fence and swinging their heads as the steady snowfall draped them in white splendor. Gwylan summoned the Gentling, offering them a few moments of calm as she walked by, the golden embers sparking on the fence as she ran her fingers along the rough wood. The horses paused for a moment, their dark eyes watching her as she passed. But their calm lasted only for a moment before their feet began to stomp once more, the dark pools of their eyes brightening wildly. She knew then there was something truly amiss. Even their animals sensed the shift in magic—the shift in the world.
Only the Superiors will know for certain what has happened. Gwylan nodded sharply at the thought, quickening her steps between the trees to the next clearing. Their tents were scattered through their small part of the forest, canvas fluttering in the breeze. She mumbled under her breath, tugging on one of her multiple braids. Most of the Eventide Sisters were Draedin born, but the numbers of Quintarian and Kaldoner were growing among them, scattering their faction with a mix of colors and accents.
Having been a Novice when they came to this part of the world, Gwylan herself had reservations about bringing these women into their fold. She was pure Draedinian, as all those of the Blood of Eventide had been for years before her. But now, they had strengthened their numbers with these women who hailed from Northern Lands, which worried Gwylan. Never had she felt such a strong surge in their magic as she had this past day, and she knew the use was not from a woman of Draedin.
These women of the North do not truly understand the power they wield.
“Dominant Gwylan,” one of the Novices whispered as she passed, bowing low until her nose nearly touched the ground.
Gwylan merely waved a hand at her before moving on, still unused to her title. Reaching back, she scratched at the incessant itch on her right shoulder. The ink had been etched into her skin, three circles intersecting each other with a long sword down the middle through them. The bottom circle was white, her Novice status, the middle red for Intermediate and the third black for Dominant. Each circle was given at the time of their advancement, as ordered by the Superiors. If Gwylan were ever to reach Superior, her left shoulder would be etched with a golden cord—the bindings of a Superior to the law of the Creator’s magic.
Gwylan removed her hand from the most recent markings, knowing in the end scratching at them wouldn’t help her. Taking a deep breath, she moved on, passing down the path, the ground worn out by so many feet marching from tent to tent. The Novices would be called in to their beds soon, so they might rest before the dawn when the Intermediates would rouse them from their sleep to begin their lessons. The Dominants would then gather their council, to discuss the turning of the world. Without them, the world would never make its turn—there would be no magic. Even the Winter Queen would be powerless against one of their top Dominants.
Before she’d taken the black garb, Gwylan hadn’t fully understood how firmly Dominants controlled the magic of the world. Truly control was a gift, given to those deemed worthy. But placed in the wrong hands, such control could do great evil, and Gwylan feared such a thing had come to pass. Whichever Intermediate had done this, the Dominant who advanced them from Novice would be brought to trial for their misjudgment first.
Another breath tapered her lungs, misting before her face in the chill air. The snowflakes were falling heavily now, thicker than before, and Gwylan wondered if perhaps the wind was preparing for a storm. Perhaps the snow meant to lay thickly on the ground tonight, testing the limits of the Eventide Sisters. It would be something the Creator would do, to test the strength of their hearts and the faith of their souls. A long time had passed since she’d felt the Frostling’s touch. Not since the Sundragon had sat upon the t
hrone and called Nfaros his.
Gwylan breathed a sigh of relief when she found the tent she sought, sitting at the farthest edge of the camp, nearest the border of the woods to Kaldon. Keeping Kaldoners away had been difficult. Some came to them for their healing powers, others came as though they were a traveling show—entertainment for the children. The pestering Gwylan would not tolerate. None of them understood they were the reason the world thrived, and none of them would ever understand. The Superiors said this was the way the world worked, and they had to be gracious and kind. Those were virtues Gwylan struggled with every day.
Stepping over the threshold of the council tent, she breathed easier, warmth flooding into her, forcing all memory of the cold outdoors from her mind. Gwylan looked back and forth at the other Dominants, gathered closely together around the crystal hanging midair in the center of the tent. Her friend, Ellia, spared her a glance and smile before returning her bright eyes to the glittering crystal.
Gwylan stepped up close beside her, squeezing her friend’s hand for a moment. She and Ellia had crossed the sea from Draedin together as Novices, becoming good friends during their training. Now Dominants together, they’d learned what being sisters truly meant with this magic pulsing in them both—with this duty of sharing the magic with each other to help anchor the world in nourishment.
“Have you seen anything?” she whispered in Ellia’s ear.
“Nothing.” Ellia shook her head. “Intermediate Kaylah has been sent with a message to the Superiors. They have been so silent since the surge happened. Even the crystals do not speak to us. There seems to have been a shudder in the power, and we cannot reach the answers.”
“Do we know the source at least? Do we know which city? We have Intermediates spread out from Kaldon to Sunkai, for their personal growth. If we know the city, surely the crystals will show us something.”