Visions
of Zarua
Two wizards, 350 years apart.
Can they save the realm of Paltria from Zarua's dark past?
Can they save the realm of Paltria from Zarua's dark past?
An ancient darkness haunts the realm of Paltria.
Apprentice wizard Paddren is plagued by visions of a city on the brink of annihilation. When his master dies in mysterious circumstances, the Royal Order of Wizards refuses to investigate.
Helped by his childhood friend, the skilled tracker Varnia, and her lover Leyoch, Paddren vows to find the killer.
The investigation leads Paddren down a sinister path of assassins, secret sects and creatures conjured by blood magic. But he is guided by a connection with a wizard from centuries ago - a wizard whose history holds the key to the horror at the heart of the abandoned city of Zarua. Can Paddren decipher his visions in time to save the Paltrian people from the dark menace of Zarua’s past?
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Visions of Zarua –
Extract
This scene is really special to me as it’s
where Varnia first appeared as a character. She’s a lone huntress tracking what
appears to be a rabid wolf. It came too close to town, killed some sheep and
maimed the shepherd. As the hunt mistress it’s her job to track and kill the
rabid beast and she goes alone while the cowardly townsfolk demand she brings
back its head as proof...
The trail ended abruptly. Varnia’s heart
thundered in her chest as she searched the empty landscape for sign of her
quarry. Sweat gathered on her skin despite the cool dawn breeze and her bow
slipped in her grasp. The wolf had disappeared.
Its huge paw-prints lay clearly
behind her but disappeared mid-step. The hounds sniffed at the ground and
whined. Varnia patted them to silence before commanding them to continue
searching out the scent.
The sun was just rising. Varnia
scanned the surroundings; there were no streams to camouflage its tracks and
the only trees were at least thirty yards away.
Varnia knelt to study where the
tracks disappeared. Beneath her fingertips, the ground hummed and her magic
tingled in response. She pulled away and took a few deep breaths to clear her
head of the taint.
The hounds began to bark, the
familiar signal that indicated they’d found their prey.
Notching an arrow into position,
Varnia joined Blaze and Flint in the trees. The hounds stood alongside a
carcass, wagging their tails as they waited for her approval.
Varnia stared down at the pile of
fur lying on a soft bed of fallen blossom. Only as she examined the body more
closely could she recognise it as a wolf. She gave the beast a cautious prod
with the tip of her boot, even though there was no chance of it being a threat.
The skin dented under the pressure - the corpse was fresh.
She slung her bow across her back
and touched the wolf with a trembling hand, surprised to find the flesh still
warm and malleable. Its fur was sleek and healthy, no sign of mange or disease.
The beast had been fit and healthy a short time ago, now it looked as though
its skeleton had been shattered from within, reducing the once magnificent wolf
to a sack of broken bones.
Varnia noticed something hooked
around a claw in the right forepaw. She picked up the huge padded foot to
examine it and realised it was a piece of bloody fabric. Varnia removed the
material and stored it in her pack, certain it had come from the shepherd’s
clothing. It wasn’t quite the proof old Mikkney had demanded, but she couldn’t
take him the slain creature’s skull. She had no explanation for the manner of
its death; no weapon could crush a skull from the inside and leave the skin
intact. Varnia knew a wizard had killed the wolf. She was almost tempted to use
her powers to see what had happened, but she’d promised herself never to give
in to the urge. That part of her was dead.
Covering the pathetic-looking
creature with a screen of old branches and twigs, Varnia hiked back to town
empty-handed.
Suzanne lives in
Middlesex, England with her hugely encouraging husband and two children.
She wrote her
first novel at the age of twelve. She discovered the fantasy genre in her late
teens and has never looked back. Giving up work to raise a family gave her the
impetus to take her attempts at novel writing beyond the first draft, and she
is lucky enough to have a husband who supports her dream - even if he does
occasionally hint that she might think about getting a proper job one day.
Suzanne loves
gardening and has a Hebe (shrub) fetish. She enjoys cooking with ingredients
from the garden, and regularly feeds unsuspecting guests vegetable-based cakes.
She collects
books, loves going for walks and picnics with the children and sharing with
them her love of nature and photography.
Suzanne is interested in history and enjoys
wandering around castles. But most of all she likes to escape with a great
film, or soak in a hot bubble bath with an ice cream and a book.
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