By David Dalglish
From USA Today bestselling writer David Dalglish
The Underworld ideas the town of Veldaren. Thieves, smugglers, assassins... they worry just one guy.
In e-book number 1 of the Shadowdance sequence, Thren Felhorn is the best murderer of his time. the entire thieves' guilds of town are below his unflinching regulate. If he has his approach, loss of life will quickly spill out from the shadows and into the streets.
Aaron is Thren's son, expert to be inheritor to his father's legal empire. He's chilly, ruthless - every thing an murderer might be. but if Aaron hazards his existence to guard a priest's daughter from his personal guild, he glimpses an international past piston, daggers, and the iron rule of his father.
Assassin or protector; each selection has its consequences.
Fantasy writer David Dalglish spins a story of retribution and darkness, and an underworld achieving for final power.
Read Online or Download A Dance of Cloaks (Shadowdance, Book 1) PDF
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Additional info for A Dance of Cloaks (Shadowdance, Book 1)
They had extended nine cords from the yoke to the foot of the tree. Thus, it had become a living lyre, full all at once with the ample life of the wind, the mute life of the trunks swollen with resin, and the blood-gorged life of man. The shepherd touched the cords to adjust them. You could hear the sounds falling far below, in the middle of the brush, and the leaves muttered, as though under large raindrops from a storm. Finally, the shepherd stood with his back against the huge curved trunk, he spread his hands wide to span the strings, and he waited for the wind.
Then he said, “This is the day, or rather, the night, this is the night. ” Césaire looked at the pale woman, the red-haired girl and the children, then me. ” he said. “Him? ” I believed we were leaving for a gathering of the shepherds. The haste with which everything had been decided, the slow advice of the white woman, “Take your coat, take along the blanket, let him have grandfather’s coat,” left me a little nervous in the end. Then the shepherd looked at the county map on the other side of the calendar and I saw his finger trace far into the white of the back country.
His mouth opened into his beard and the words came out from between teeth all healthy and ice white despite his age. “In the rock of Volx, there are tawny eagles. If you lie down in the grass, they come. They turn into the wind, there overhead, and then they dive straight down. The eagle’s shadow wakes you. If you’re asleep, it passes cool over your eyelids, and you wake up. There it is. You wake up, even if you’re sleeping well. “Once, I had a dog. He was mean as the wind. He didn’t know what he did anymore than the wind does.