Fire Walker by Trudie Skies

Author:Trudie Skies [Skies, Trudie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: afterlife, blood magic, desert, empire, epic fantasy, evil prince, fantasy, female protagonist, fire, kingdom, magic, royalty, sexism, swords, temples, young adult, fire magic, desert kingdom, oppression, prejudice
Publisher: Uproar Books
Published: 2021-02-23T06:00:00+00:00

It took almost a week to cross the plains.

Alistar and Raj kept their distance from Garr, though he reined in his tongue where they were concerned and chose to complain of his hard saddle or sore legs instead. Each night they camped, Alistar would hunt, Mina would tend the fire—for practice, more than anything—Raj would cook stews or skewers, and Garr would be Garr with his endless inane comments. And each dawn she’d wake with the hope that he’d abandoned them, but for all his complaining, the Ash Maker remained.

They followed the Giant’s Arm west until they reached the road to Darasus.

Not even reading about the Houses and their cities could prepare her for the fabled steel wall of Darasus. The city was a circular fortress that curled into many layers, not too dissimilar from the isle that formed Solus or even her home back in Arlent. However, the lower wall was made from hundreds and thousands of swords melded together. Curved thick sabers, long thin scimitars, polearm blades, and javelin heads. Straight swords like the kind the Hartnords used. Smaller knives to fill the gaps. The jagged, twisted mess of metal nearest the earth looked a muddy rust color, though the reds and browns faded into grays and silvers toward the top. The glittering top edge of the wall kissed the sky, five times Mina’s height at least.

Garr whistled.

Alistar eased his horse next to hers. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“Where did they get so many swords?” she asked.

“War.”

That’s right. She’d read the tales of Darasi warriors in one of Iman’s books.

House Darabond was the youngest of the Solander Houses. They owned no mines and little land to harvest, and so chose to prove their value the Solander way—with battle. They were the first to charge to the front lines, the first to raise their swords and bleed for Sandair. They’d long been overshadowed by the other Solander Houses, mainly House Sarabond, but they’d made a name for themselves in the last war. Every sword in their wall belonged to a downed enemy.

A wall of trophies.

With another war on the way, how high would this wall reach? Tents had already been set up outside on the plain, along with wagons and horses. Soon they would march north to the Ruby Coast or the Cold Path.

Alistar nudged his horse forward and she copied. They weren’t going to stay in Darasus long. They needed fresh supplies—food and two new tents—and she longed to sleep in a real bed, if just for one night, and to wash away the dirt and sweat. She supposed she needed to visit the Temple of Rahn and meet with the Fire Walkers there, though the thought of visiting another decaying prison to speak with tired and depressed faces didn’t appeal.

They’d almost reached the town gates when a guard blocked their path. “Hold there, Duslander. Which House do you represent?”

“House Arlbond.” She shifted in her saddle so the purple sahn was visible.

The guard sent for another. The two engaged in whispered conversation before turning back to her.

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