I decided to give you a little bit of the book I am working on right now. I have moved on from here but I thought this scene was one of the better ones I wrote so far for this book.


She kept moving till all she could hear was the calls of birds and then settled down in the crotch of the tree she rested in. Setting her back against the gnarled bark, she reached into the pouch that always hung at her side. Pulling out the harp charm she stretched it into its instrument size. Placing her fingers on the strings she let the music that was trapped inside her out.

She longed to sing, to let out the words that bounced around her head, but she still could not. Instead she let the music flow out from her fingers. The notes fell from her fingers and attracted the wild songbirds to her side. With eyes closed she played, hearing with a small part of her the notes they added to her harp playing. Once more her playing seemed to pull something toward her. Be it magic or simply the recently departed spirits could not be said, but she could feel an energy around her that seemed to only come when she was alone.

Opening her eyes she lay her fingers on the strings to still them. Taking a soft breath she swallowed and let a single tear fall. Sitting with his legs hanging off the branch was Harl. All marks from his death were gone and he smiled as he swung his feet in the air. “You should keep playing, my friend. Your music is your magic.” He reached out and caught the tear before it fell with a finger that she could see through.

Loralil blinked for Harl spoke with words that she heard with heart, mind and ears. The spirit laughed at the expression on her face. “Yes, I can speak now, little dove. Death has gifted me with a voice now.” His face grew serious as he continued. “Little sister, little dove, you must let your vow go.”

Loralil opened her mouth and then shut it, shaking her head sadly. Harl sighed heavily and then smiled. “I know it is hard. You take the heavy burden of much that is not yours to shoulder. Do not add my passing to the weight on you.”

Looking down at the harp in her hands, she sighed. What he said was true, but she could not help it. If they had not come he would still be alive. She let her fingers say what she could not and Harl listened from his place on the branch. The sadness, the longing for peace and the wish for something was clear if you listened.

“I can’t stay long, little friend. I have a favor to ask of you.” Loralil looked up not letting her fingers stop and lifted a brow. Harl smiled and continued. “Watch over my twin. He is at odd ends right now, unsure of his gods and his place in the world without me at his side.” He ran a big, scarred hand through his hair in a familiar gesture. “I do not ask you to do this for long, but he will need a friend for the next few weeks.”

Loralil debated only a moment before nodding. Her fingers roamed from the song of sadness to one of understanding and hope. When Harl smiled and faded from sight she felt him caress her hair and whisper in her head. “Thank you, my little friend. Know that you will find peace if you wish to.”


Peace and the search for it is the theme of this third book in the series and a quest that Loralil will have for the rest of her days. We all have things we search for and as a character who was ripped from her family and her life at a young age, forced into debased slavery, then forced to kill for others amusement, and of course finding your quest for revenge has a high cost, well you can imagine. Hopefully I can write these tales in a way that is both intriguing for the reader and challenging for both myself and my character. Expect more excerpts till I get to the final chapter.