The Sorcerer (Erysian Chronicles Book 1)
The Sorcerer
Ann Fisher
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
About the Author
The Raven Excerpt
Copyright
1
The emperor’s butcher was an uncommonly large man. As always, Lorel was struck first by Janek’s size. Whenever they were apart, she imagined him smaller, more human, more manageable. And then each time she saw him again, she experienced the same wash of panic she’d felt at their first encounter. Surely someday she’d outgrow the reaction. Her jangled nerves would become calloused. Janek Lanari would cease to overwhelm her.
But today was not that day.
Standing in the doorway surrounded by shadows, Janek appeared like something conjured from darkness. The flickering light from the torches gleamed in his black hair and made the hard lines of his battered face seem sinister. Looking at him now, Lorel could almost believe the rumors about him—that he was an assassin and sorcerer, that he’d learned the black arts of the eastern necromancers during the long years he’d spent on the front lines of the Wraith Wars, that he’d come to Erys not only to put an end to the rebellion, but to break the spirit of her people.
She’d seen no evidence that any of that was true. She hadn’t seen him practice magic of any kind, not for himself or the consul. He’d spilled no blood on Erys that she knew of—something which could be said of few Ghadrians. And if his task was to hunt down rebels, he was doing a remarkably poor job of it. She didn’t know why he was here. But she would discover the truth. That was, after all, the reason she’d come to the Keep.
Janek shook out his damp cloak and hung it to dry before waving a pair of servants into the room. The servants nearly stumbled into each other in their haste to obey. Carrying large trays laden with meats and fruit, dark Ghadrian wine and freshly baked rolls, they hurried to the table and began to set out the meal. Neither of them so much as glanced her way.
She’d become accustomed to that reaction from her fellow Erysians. At best they thought her a victim. At worst a traitor. None of them wished to be her friend. She took no insult from that. If their positions were reversed, she’d be just as wary.
She stood as Janek came to greet her.
Gently, he took her hands. His smile warmed his dark blue eyes but did little to soften his features. His twice-broken nose and the scar down his cheek were too fearsome for that.
He squeezed her fingertips. “I’m so glad to find you here.”
She felt a little twinge of surprise at the sincerity she heard in his voice. She lifted a brow. “Did you think I would prefer to remain with the kitchen maids?”
Ghadrians treated all Erysians alike. She might once have been the most renowned dancer on the island, but inside the Keep she shared a bed with the girl who swept the fireplaces.
“I wouldn’t presume to be the better alternative,” he said. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.
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