The Words of Kings and Prophets: an epic fantasy novel based on Irish history, myth and legend (Gael Song Book 2)
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The Words of Kings and Prophets: an epic fantasy novel based on Irish history, myth and legend (Gael Song Book 2)
I hissed through my teeth, my body unable to conceal my frustration. Máelmórda didn’t have an honest bone in his body, and Brian knew it. My oaths, my promise of fidelity, of marriage, of death do us part, mattered not at all… all because I was a woman, and Máelmórda a man.
“Parents will teach them, friends, but at the rate we are having gifted children, soon there will be no one left to teach. You must let go of your histories, scrolls and books. We must look forward, not back.” Tomas shifted in his chair, a small smile curling his upper lip.
“What if I say to you that it is right that our powers are fading, that our numbers are dwindling? We live in the land of the mortals. Perhaps we should be free to live among them and if our magic fades, then so be it. We will have lived our lives as we want, instead of cooped up here like animals in a pen.”
The two hundred Descendants, already gathered in the room,
The land is growing older, and our ancestors left us a thousand years ago.”
“If you work hard and are kind-hearted, yes. There is always work and welcome for those willing to do their part.” Síle’s feet shuffled, and her hand reached for Anlón’s. She hadn’t decided yet. She wasn’t ready, or perhaps she was too attached to her family here. Aoife had been the same at this age. It was only as she got older and watched other g
... See moreThree large spiderwebs spun between the bushes caught my attention. They were not separate the way most webs were; these were so big that the edges merged. I stepped closer, marvelling at the intricate pattern and ordered strands. On each web, there sat a spider on the highest point, holding itself tight as if in a ball, concealing itself so that a
... See moreused to touch him with my hands when the flames still danced along them. He would cry, the fire hurting his skin, but I didn’t care. My fire never left a scar. His laughter did, though. As had Mother’s face when she watched me struggle.
“Affraic will not agree to bringing the cauldron here.” “No, Affraic is against me… but the cauldron is not important right now. When she is ousted from her role and Fódla put in her place, we will find the cauldron then.”