Star-Crossed: Tales of Northam

By Elle Clouse

In a land where magic is forbidden, an occult experiment victim named Scylla is cast into The Pit for the crime of poverty. Instead of death, she faces the notorious criminal, Evander the Wicked, Destroyer of Worlds. Suddenly struck with the feeling they have met somewhere before, Scylla and Evander team up to discover how sorcery and fate has entwined them. Will this couple discover what happened in a magician’s dungeon that gave them powers and why they share a mysterious brand on their arms, or will the Drugai kill them before they get a chance?

Star-Crossed was previously published in the Reflections of Love Anthology.  This is a fantasy romance novella set in Northam.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elle Clouse
• Release date: Apr 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386879596

Elle Clouse

Elle has been writing fantasy and science fiction romance for years and an avid participant in the NaNoWriMo. Her first novel, Stealing the Wolf Prince, is a 2016 RONE Award Winner for Fantasy & Science Fiction. Elle is happily married to a martial arts instructor. She’s also the mother of two small boys and is constantly talking her husband out of adopting a new pet. She knits and stamps in her spare time as well as feeds a latte addiction.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The shackles around Scylla’s wrists bit into her skin.

Half the guardsmen avoided eye contact or looked at her with pity. The others glared with disdain.  She stood, awaiting her fate, in her courier apron and wisp of a dress.  Her crime?  Out past curfew and being too poor to bribe the patrol.

Scylla turned and faced the threshold of The Pit, a dungeon prison built inside an old abandoned mine.  Criminals were lowered into the cavern with no way to climb out.  The worst of humanity lived out their limited days in the dank darkness below.

She hated the dark.

A guard approached with a hook attached to a chain and crane.  He fastened it to her shackles and pulled the chain taut, forcing her arms over her head.  Her toes barely touched the wood decking.

The roar from below grew louder, and Scylla wished for a quick demise.  It would be better than discovering what horrors resided in the Pit.  If the chain failed, if the hook slipped, she could fall and plummet into the oblivion of death.  But the fates were never that kind to her.

The crane turned wide, and her body swung out over the black cavern.  The torchlight from the landing did nothing to brighten the shadow below.  The winch screeched to life, lowering her inch by agonizing inch.  She lurched against the hook, but it held fast.

The darkness overtook her, and she was enveloped by a roaring blackness.  She cursed the gods, her cries lost in the noise.  Damn the city guard.  Damn the poorhouses.  Damn her luck and her life.  Her tears fell freely, so she squeezed her eyes closed.

Scylla’s toes made contact with cold stone then her heels touched down.  The hook released, and her arms dropped.  Her eyes snapped open, and the world looked bathed in hues of blue and black. A figure stood before her.

Look at what we have ‘ere. The sound carried over the roar of the cavern, and with it, a fetid stench that made her stomach lurch.  What a pretty lil face.

Oy!  You got the last one. Another figure approached from her left side.  Let me at ‘er.

The second reached for her arm, she stepped aside in alarm.  Perhaps, cursing the gods had gone too far, but she thanked them for giving her sight in the darkness.

I saw ‘er first, dog! The first man shouted and grabbed her arm so tightly it made her yelp.  He laughed and yanked her forward, to only the gods knew where.  She pulled back but couldn’t match his strength.

Another man charged with a shout and tackled the first, freeing her.  The two traded punches while still more people cheered.  Scylla stepped back but someone lunged for her from the side.  She swung her shackled hands up and struck the assailant on the side of the face, knocking him over.

Another man reached for her and grasped the fabric of her apron, pulling it off her, ripping the straps at her neck.  He threw the garment aside and lunged again, but Scylla was ready.  She stepped inside his grasp and brought her knee up as fast as she could.  The crunch and grunt confirmed she hit her mark.  He fell to the ground, holding his privates and whimpering.

Only delaying the inevitable, she swung her arms at the next assailant.  She struck his neck, and he fell backwards, gasping and holding his throat.  If she was going to die, she wouldn’t make it easy for them.  She’d survived one hell, she could manage another.  Or make them so angry they killed her before they used her.

Halt! A voice called out in the dark, clear and concise.  All motion ceased, and silence fell over