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Little Fox Excerpt |
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Jaxon reached from behind him and etched a crescent moon in the shaley stone of the wall, his blade screeing at the last against the wide slice of black stone beneath. Little Fox stared at the black stone, a chill growing like a blizzard within. Whatever stories and tales he'd told or not told, Jaxon had the talent and the man intended to pull death down around them. And there were two men he owed stories to escape by still . . . and he had no Noman storyteller magic. Jaxon looked gray and worn, his eyes dark-circled, triumphant. Little Fox wanted to scream for him to stop, but the Noman had already lifted his pickaxe as far back as he could and started the downswing. |
JAXON |
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Would you like to read the first chapter? |
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| Excerpt 2: | ||
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“We didn't get out, did we?” Little Fox asked the storyteller softly, unable to look up and see the pity in the gentle green eyes. “Storyson, I'm sorry; two unfinished stories, a kelah set in air and not all at once, and son of the son of the Fates fighting you at every turn with his own Story.” Fringe brushed Little Fox's cheek with his fingers. “Even I am not strong enough to fight the Fates and the land together.” |
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