By Robert V. S. Redick
“If any bold television manufacturers are trying to find [a] multi-part fable to evolve after the good fortune of HBO’s Game of Thrones . . . Robert Redick’s striking Chathrand Voyage sequence . . . has it all.”—SFX
Robert V. S. Redick brings his acclaimed myth sequence The Chathrand Voyage to a effective shut that benefits comparability to the paintings of such masters as George R. R. Martin, Philip Pullman, and J.R.R. Tolkien himself. The evil sorcerer Arunis is lifeless, but the chance has now not ended. For as he fell, beheaded through the younger warrior-woman Thasha Isiq, Arunis summoned the Swarm of evening, a demonic entity that feasts on dying and grows like an outbreak. If the Swarm isn't destroyed, the area of Alifros becomes an unlimited graveyard. Now Thasha and her comrades—the tarboy Pazel Pathkendle and the mysterious wizard Ramachni—begin a quest that turns out all yet very unlikely. but there's wish: One individual has the ability to face opposed to the Swarm: the nice mage Erithusmé. lengthy inspiration lifeless, Erithusmé lives, buried deep in Thasha’s soul. yet for the mage to dwell back, Thasha Isiq can have to die.
Praise for The evening of the Swarm
“Robert Redick is a rare talent.”—Karen Miller, bestselling writer of The blameless Mage
“Robert V. S. Redick has built into essentially the most fascinating younger voices in delusion today.”—Fantasy e-book Critic
“[Redick] pulls off epic myth with loads of variety, giving his readers every little thing they need in addition to a huge bag of surprises.”—Starburst Magazine
“The evening of the Swarm is a nail-biting, continuous motion experience that might thrill any delusion novel reader!”—Tome Tender
“I raced via The evening of the Swarm. there's a ton of motion, but additionally lots of interplay among the various characters. There are new demanding situations in addition to outdated difficulties to be handled. now not every little thing will get tidied up completely, which i think is a power, on account that that’s how lifestyles is.”—Books you could Die within the heart of
From the exchange Paperback edition.
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Additional info for The Night of the Swarm The Night of the Swarm (The Chathrand Voyage, Book 4)
His grip weaker than a 12 months in the past: he had misplaced palms in a struggle with Arunis. Rose had trod on certainly one of them, heard the knuckle crack underneath his boot. terrible the issues that got here again to him, the sensations one was once powerless to disregard. He raised the flagon, then paused and got rid of a small item from his mouth. It was once a pitcher eyeball, superbly rendered. Yellow and black, orpiment and ebony, arrow-slit iris of a jungle cat. A leopard, to be unique: the emblem of Bali Adro, this empire two times the scale of Ott’s cherished Arqual, if the dlömic freaks informed the reality. They’d passed Rose the taxidermied animal (sunbleached, moth-gnawed, deeply symbolic not directly he cared not anything approximately) simply hours ahead of the ship’s departure from Masalym. A gesture of goodwill to enable a human captain carry the carcass, in the course of these final hours in port. regardless of the captain’s personal matters. irrespective of that he loathed all issues tom cat, starting with that vile Sniraga, purring even now underneath his mattress. He drank; Ott rotated. In Rose’s closet, Joss Odarth was once snickering approximately sleek naval uniforms. 2 Monster. idiot. you may have blinded the Leopard of Masalym. So the freaks had shouted, and naturally it used to be actual. the 1st eye had come free whilst he’d dealt with the carcass a section too approximately, clubbed the topdeck with it in reality; the second one he’d pried out with a spoon. pondering the entire whereas of the match Grounds, the place his group have been imprisoned, and from whence twenty-three males had escaped one panicky evening into that fab warren of a urban, and not again. rattling your soul for all eternity, Ott! no matter what you suggest to do, get on with it! Rose squeezed the attention in his sweaty fist. He had tossed the leopard ashore while the mooring-lines have been freed, simply as culture demanded. And they’d stuck it, these dlömic mariners. They’d even cheered a bit: the tail had no longer brushed the floor, and that intended most appropriate success. Then they’d spotted the lacking eyes and stared in horror on the departing send. Rose had grinned and popped the attention into his mouth. He had traditions of his personal. He might maintain it; there has been energy in a bit robbery. sooner or later it should assemble dirt on his mantel, stating with its stillness that this used to be a mantel, in a home with no ladderways or a brine reek from the basement, a home that by no means rolled or pitched or pinwheeled; Gods, how he hated the ocean. Nonsense, nonsense. A frog couldn't hate the dust that made him; a fowl couldn't hate the medium of the air. He was once fatigued; he wanted protein; the place within the 9 Pits was once Teggatz together with his tea? He positioned the attention again in his mouth. greater to maintain it there, clicking opposed to his molars, learning his tongue, observing his phrases earlier than they left his— “Riding pants! ” stated Sandor Ott. Rose inhaled the attention. His face purpled, his imaginative and prescient dimmed. The outdated killer sighed and bent him double; then got here a gorgeous blow among his shoulders. the attention shot from his mouth, and the hated cat, Sniraga, chased and batted it around the ground. “Now sit up straight. ” Rose didn't sit up straight.