By Daniel Abraham
All paths result in war...
Marcus' hero days are in the back of him. He is aware too good that even the smallest conflict nonetheless ability somebody's demise. whilst his males are inspired right into a doomed military, staying out of a conflict he wishes no a part of calls for a few unorthodox steps.
Cithrin is an orphan, ward of a banking condo. Her activity is to smuggle a nation's wealth throughout a conflict quarter, hiding the gold from each side. She understands the key lifetime of trade like a moment language, however the concepts of exchange won't protect her from swords.
Geder, sole scion of a noble condo, has extra curiosity in philosophy than in swordplay. A terrible excuse for a soldier, he's a pawn in those video games. nobody can expect what he'll become.
Falling pebbles can begin a landslide. A spat among the unfastened towns and the Severed Throne is spiraling uncontrolled. a brand new participant rises from the depths of heritage, fanning the flames that may sweep the whole area onto The Dragon's direction -- the trail to struggle.
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Additional info for The Dragon's Path (The Dagger and the Coin)
He shifted his weight, getting ready to stroll down. He stopped himself. most likely, he advised himself. there's most likely no get away. yet maybe there's. at the path, the dark-robed figures shifted, grew to become, consulted between themselves. He couldn’t pay attention their phrases. He waited, his physique transforming into stiffer and less warm. Like a corpse that hadn’t had the grace to die. part an afternoon appeared to cross whereas the hunters less than him conferred, although the sunlight slightly replaced its perspective within the naked blue sky. after which, among one breath and the following, the mules moved ahead back. He didn’t dare circulate for worry of atmosphere a pebble rolling down the steep cliffs. He attempted to not grin. Slowly, the issues that had as soon as been males rode their mules down the path to the tip of the valley, after which the extensive bend to the south. while the final of them slipped out of sight, he stood, fingers on his hips, and marveled. He nonetheless lived. they'd now not identified the place to discover him in any case. regardless of every little thing he’d been taught, every little thing he had till lately believed, the presents of the spider goddess didn't exhibit the reality. It gave her servants anything, definite, yet no longer fact. increasingly more, it appeared his entire lifestyles had sprung from a webwork of believable lies. He must have felt misplaced. Devastated. in its place, it used to be like he’d walked from a tomb into the loose air. He came across himself grinning. The climb up the rest western slope bruised him. His sandals slipped. He struggled for finger- and toeholds. yet because the sunlight reached its peak, he reached the ridge. To the west, mountain mountain, and nice billowing clouds towered above them, thunderstorms a delicate veil of gray. yet within the farthest passes, he observed the land point. Flatten. Distance made the plains grey-blue, and the wind at the mountain’s top minimize at his dermis like claws. Lightning flashed at the horizon. as though in solution, a hawk shrieked. it is going to take weeks on my own and strolling. He had no nutrition, and worse, no water. He’d slept the final 5 nights in caves and lower than timber. His former brothers and friends—the males he had identified and enjoyed his complete life—were combing the paths and villages, purpose on his loss of life. Mountain lions and dire wolves hunted within the heights. He ran a hand via his thick, wiry hair, sighed, and commenced the downward climb. He could most likely die sooner than he reached the Keshet and a urban big enough to lose himself in. yet merely most likely. within the final mild of the falling sunlight, he stumbled on a stony overhang close to a skinny, muddy move. He sacrificed a size of the strap from his correct sandal to model a crude hearth bow, and because the merciless relax got here down from the sky, he squatted subsequent to the excessive ring of stones that concealed his small fireplace. The dry scrub burned sizzling and with little smoke, yet fast. He fell right into a rhythm of feeding small twig after small twig into the flame, by no means letting it develop sufficiently big to light up his take care of to these searching and not letting it die. the heat didn’t appear to succeed in earlier his elbows. far flung, whatever shrieked. He attempted to disregard it. His physique ached with exhaustion and spent attempt, yet his brain, freed now from the consistent distraction of his trip, won a deadly velocity.