Jacob gritted his teeth as a whip slashed across his back.

"No lagging, slave!'

He bent and pulled another rock from the pile in front of him. Straightening up, he walked as fast as he could with it to an ever-growing rock wall. He placed his stone carefully into a space in the wall and plastered it in with clay. He paused for a moment to wipe sweat from his eyes, and was rewarded by another whip slash on his back.

"No stoppin'! Back to work!"

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The Shadow's Heart

One: Where there is darkness

Midnight, there were no stars, no moon, nothing but the distant glow of store lights that seemed to hide just beneath the horizon’s edge.

There was a pasture that had gentle hills and an unsteady barbed wire fence surrounding it. It seemed to be uninhabited… until I came, well, I should say, we came.

 
 
*note to my readers: (which I hope are still here? Haha….) if any of you fellows remember, in the prologue (the shortest one in the world…) I said ‘incomplete accounts’ erase that from your heads. I’ve changed my mind.*
 
 

The ride home was uneventful. Kearah met them at the training grounds.

"How did it go? Jokk's been pacin' and grumblin' all morning."

Solvar jerked a saddle-strap loose. "It went as well as my first day of trainin'."

Her face fell. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Goldtongue winced. "Have a care, Solvar! You are going to tear my scales off."

"Sorry."

Kearah glanced at Varian. Her eyes widened. "What happened? Do ye need treatment?"

I've had several requests to post pieces of my novel, but it's currently undergoing remodeling, so I can't even give you the first chapter because I don't have a solid one yet. But here's the tentative "back cover", as some of you have also requested. (Note that it's subject to change as well) If you wanna know more or sign up for my newsletter so that you'll know when the novel's available, check out my website: http://emilyfaggion.com. Also have some articles about writing there.

Chapter One: Gathering~Joel

“Joel, where are you? Joel, I need you to set out the plates before everyone else arrives.”  The voice of my mother, Elizabeth, floated down the hall. “I’m expecting at least fifty people for the efrat, and you know how Eliana and Amad’s family eats.”

I slid my flute into a case hidden under my cloak before lazily shuffling to the kitchen. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”