The Narkurru: The Daughter of Ares Chronicles, #2

By Shannon McRoberts

Take what you know about mythology and throw it out the window. 

Sixteen-year-old Isri dreams of marrying a handsome prince from a faraway land. She has no desire to become the Raelisuir of her town, Cerynian, like her mother. Instead, she wants to become queen of anywhere else. 

However, things change when she has troubling dreams of a strange woman begging her to come to the dead city of Ialo. Isri relents and visits Ialo later that day with her suitor Est'it. 

Once in Ialo, she learns she is the only one that can break the blood oath made between the Cerynian people and a Narkurru demon named Lye-Ashe. The souls of her future children hang in the balance for if she fails they too will become cursed with the blood oath.

Scroll up and continue the adventure with Athine that lovers of Tolkien and Xena are sure to love.   

   

• Language: English
• Publisher: Obsidian Poet Press
• Release date: Apr 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386690504

Shannon McRoberts

Shannon McRoberts writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy books while living in the rolling hills of Kentucky.   Shannon is a lover of all kinds of fantasy but enjoys watching her collection of favorite shows like Xena, Buffy, Firefly, Game of Thrones, and Farscape.  When she’s not busy with taking care of her family, binge watching Netflix, or making fantasy art, she is at her computer weaving myths and magic featuring women of grit and steel.

Book preview

Prologue

TO YOUR LEFT, ATHINE, Andraste yelled out towards her cousin.  In response, Athine tumbled out of the way just as an angry specter flew at her screaming.  Another one was right behind that one.  The touch of these screaming specters was cold and bone chilling.  They were more of an annoyance than anything to an immortal born like Athine, but they could infect humans and make them do harm to others.  Because of this, she was bound to stop them.  She had taken an oath as the Vesait’e, protector of the N’Loron, to handle all the otherworldly threats that might cross over into the land of the living.  Even the annoying ones like Celtic Banshees. 

Andraste lifted her golden staff and summoned a massive bolt of Sh’cersay.  Although she did not have the power of the Ph’tiahon like her cousin, she did have great control over the magic that she created when she was still a young immortal.  Andraste’s magic had grown over the years to a point where it could greatly wound even spirits.

Athine spun around and commanded Is’che’aiq with ease.  It had been some years since she took up the role as protector and with each passing moment she was more and more comfortable with what some would call her destiny.  She learned to trust Is’che’aiq as he did Athine.  They worked together in rhythmic sync.  It was almost as if the two shared the same thoughts at times. 

Today, Athine had been summoned to Ximira by her grandmother, Morrigan.  It seemed someone had unleashed a group of Banshees in the Celtic Isles at the tip of Nalecia.  The N’Loron in the area was severely weakened by an impetuous human mage trying to do incantations near a sacred shrine.  The result was the outpouring of angry Banshee specters. 

Andraste and Morrigan had tried for days to fend the creatures off and seal the N’Loron, but it was to no avail.  Because the N’Loron was so weakened by the magic, Morrigan was sure that only her granddaughter could put things back in order.  The only problem was that since she got there Athine barely had time to even inspect the tear in the N’Loron let alone devise a plan to stop the Banshees.  It was as if the creatures were coming out in waves.

What magic caused this, Andraste? Athine asked during a lull in the outpouring of specters. 

Human magic from what I have found.  The mage was killed, so I’m not completely sure what went on here.  Yet, I have a feeling that this mage may have been endowed by a Narkurru.  The Narkurru are demon spirits often trapped in the Underworld.  They feed off whatever power they can obtain.  Usually they bind themselves to a human, giving them corrupt magical abilities in return.  It would almost be a symbiotic relationship, but often the magic kills the humans that use it. Andraste explained to Athine. 

Another wave of the screaming specters came out of the rip in the N’Loron.  Athine readied herself and dug the heel of her boot into the soft cavern floor.  Her long red raven streaked hair followed every swoosh and clang of Is’che’aiq as she tried to dissolve the specters.  There were simply too many of them to ever dissolve them this way.  She had to find a way to close the rift in the N’Loron.

Athine, listen to me.  You need to take Andraste and try to focus your combined magic into the rip of the N’Loron.  If you both combine your Sh’cersay you should be able to close the wound. Is’che’aiq mentally told Athine. 

Athine did not hesitate to grab Andraste and tell her of the plan.  In the years since she picked up the spirit sword she had learned to quickly hear the thoughts of the Ser’urn’el and act.  Athine and Andraste lifted their hands and focused on the image of their magic healing the fissure in the N’Loron.  In only a moment of time the specters became less and less.  The ones that were still in the realm of the living were quickly dispatched by Athine and dissolved into the eternal essence of the realm. 

Relieved Andraste turned to Athine.  Once again you have saved this realm from utter chaos.  Will you stay here for a while and visit with your kin?

Andraste, my dear cousin, as much as I would like to spend an extended amount of time here and to see Ximira, I do not think that would be wise.  I have a feeling that as long as the Narkurru are corrupting humans I will never be able to rest.  I will return to Arocia in the morning.  But first, I would like to try grandmother’s famous red wine.

ALLYRGUE WOKE UP ALONE in a cave.  She could have sworn that she died in the ill attempt at creating the tunnel in the mountain pass under the great river.  Her Chaddral magic was not strong enough to command the earth and contain the collapse of the underwater passage.  The very ground had opened up and swallowed her in a great watery gulp.  Yet, here she was alert and oriented to the fact that she was in a cave.  Perhaps this was all a bad dream. On the other hand, maybe the afterlife was supposed to be quiet like this.  The cavern she was in surely was not of this world.  It glowed with different colors of beautiful rocks.  Allyrgue had no idea how rocks in the heart of the great river could glow; this must be the other realm.  In the distance, she heard a babbling brook and felt a faint wind upon her cheek.  Allyrgue closed her eyes to take in the surroundings.  She could smell the sweet scent of hyacinth.  She wondered how they grew in the darkness.  When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see a ghostly figure walking towards her.  The figure in front of her reminded her very much of her mother, but her mother had passed into the N’Loron years ago.  She was over 100 years old when she passed and this specter in front of her was no older in looks than Allyrgue.  The spirit acknowledged her with a smile and then began to speak. 

Welcome, daughter.  Do not be afraid.  I am here to ask for your assistance.  Your expert Chaddral powers, especially your command over the earth, are needed to help Cerynian.

My expert powers? I have no expert powers or else I would not be here in the otherworld talking to my dead mother, would I? Allyrgue stated in confusion. 

"On the contrary my dear, you are here because I used powerful magic to have the