An Excerpt From The Sage's War
The Sage's War releases tomorrow! I can’t believe it. Soon, the final installment in the Scholars of Elandria series will be out in the world. I’m. So. Fucking. Excited.
Here’s a sneak peek from chapter fourteen.
Teleah stood in the distance, the palace on the hill a white speck overlooking the valley. The Sage’s mountains were a pale green blur on the horizon. The sun beamed down in the bright winter sky, warming the riders without the need for magic. She was almost home.
“Is that Teleah?” Corbin asked.
“It is. We’re nearly there. We should reach home by tomorrow afternoon.” She glanced at the sun’s placement in the sky. “We could stay the night at the palace. Or we could press on and be there tonight.”
The last part of their journey would be in the dark, but the road was well-maintained. And she wanted to be home.
“I vote we press on and sleep in our own bed tonight,” Quinn said.
He winked at her, and she grinned. Their own bed was not only plush. They also wouldn’t have to steal away to have time alone without Quinn’s father and brother overhearing them. Yes, she could make it seven more hours on horseback to return to her home. And it would feel like home again, now that Quinn was back.
The others were just as eager as she and Quinn to end their journey, and they agreed to continue. They stopped for a brief lunch to stretch their legs and let the horses rest. Then they continued north, planning to bypass the capital rather than going through. Though it added distance, riding through town usually came with delays.
It was at sunset when Jack started singing happy songs—and some randy ones. The sky was painted in vibrant shades of orange and pink, and owls hooted in the distance. The others joined in the songs when they knew the words, excited to have made it this far without incident. Their cheery singing seemed to lighten the horses as well. Hours passed like minutes.
But a thick stillness met them in the mountains. It wasn’t just the impending darkness. Something felt…off.
“Something’s wrong.” Amarice shot a concerned glance at Quinn and kicked Atsila into a gallop. She patted her horse’s side, whispering that she could rest soon if she would just get them to the Villa fast. Atsila pushed herself as if she knew, too, that something terrible awaited them.
The moon shone overhead, illuminating the mountains in a spooky glow. The whistling wind had silenced any sounds of life. Dark tree branches spread over their path like bony hands, grazing their heads and shoulders and pulling them toward something they didn’t want to see. Amarice shivered, but she refrained from warming herself in case she needed the full strength of her powers when she arrived.
Her magic buzzed under her skin, reacting to her emotions, her fear. She silently thanked the moon and stars for their light. If she had used fire magic to light their way, it might have burned out of control. She forced her magic to stay inside.
She slowed as she reached the edge of the camps. Fires dotted throughout, casting ghostly shadows on the tents. She breathed in the smell of staleness and waste. It was still early—it couldn’t be later than seven o'clock, but there was little sound coming from the people.
Until they spotted her.
“It’s the Sage!”
“Drabekesala!”
“Is that the Consort? She rescued him!”
“They’re back!”
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~Krystal
(Do not copy or reproduce this scene anywhere on the internet without permission of the author, Krystal N. Craiker.)