This week I have a new release Spell of Light, Tales of the Underlight 1 short story. It’s set in the world of my Andovia Chronicles. It’s only 0.99. You can get it here on Amazon and read an excerpt below.
It’s where she works as a guard.
When she loses her adoptive mother, the prison warden, Novia takes the helm. While overseeing the worst of the worst, she secretly utilizes the island’s underground caverns as a sanctuary for refugees and members of the resistance. This arrangement works well… until it doesn’t.
When she’s kidnapped by the former Andovian queen, Novia soon realizes her past is far more dangerous than her present. She’d give reclaim her normal island life, but life on Glenfel is about to take an even uglier turn.
One prisoner is murdered. Another escapes. New arrivals to the island leave Novia’s head spinning. She doesn’t know who to trust and how to keep the danger and its repercussions at bay.
Novia Lancaster knew her day was going to be hard the moment the alarm sounded through the halls of Glenfel Prison. She groaned as she got up from her kitchen table. She hoped the other guards were already handling the situation.
“So much for breakfast,” Novia grumbled as she shovelled a couple of rolls into her waist pouch. She pushed her long, curly green hair off her face and checked her belt to make sure her weapon and ring of keys were in place.
Novia glanced around the kitchen with its bare stone walls, table, stove, and washing area. She would have to clean up later. As the acting warden, she had to find out what was going on.
Heading out the door, she blurred away from her chambers and raced outside towards the prison.
What is the alarm for? Her white owl, Archimedes, asked and flew along beside her.
“It’s probably just birds again. So head and see what you can find out.” Novia hurried across the courtyard into the massive fortress that served as the prison.
Worse still, she had a ship of prisoners coming in that morning. Among them would also be refugees headed for the resistance sanctuary underneath Mount Glenn. Novia would have to make sure no one got mixed up.
Once inside the prison, she headed through the long, winding hallway until she reached the main guardroom.
Edessa, one of her fellow guards, came out. Her long black hair fell in long wisps down her neck and her pale face beaded with sweat. “Thank the gods you’re finally here. I was just about to call you.”
“What have we got?” she asked.
“No idea. It’s coming from level four. I think the druidon guards are already up there. One came and asked for the warden again.”
It was getting harder to explain the warden’s absence. Yet if she told them the truth—that the real warden had died months ago—word would get back to the Archdruid. Then someone else would be sent to take over. A new warden would no doubt find out about the resistance settlement on the island and expose all of them. Too many lives depended on her, and she couldn’t let that happen.
She and Edessa headed up to the fourth level. One of the druidon guards stood by the door of an open cell. “What’s going on?” Novia asked him. “Why is the cell door open?”