Book of Time: The Custos, #1

By Savannah Verte

One book could change the world…or destroy it.

A mysterious group known only as the Custos are charged with protecting the Book of Time and its appointed keeper. The equally secretive White Diamond society is determined to gain possession of the book, no matter what the cost.

The stakes are high as alliances are forged and broken, power and passion collide, and the world descends on New Orleans to celebrate the Mardi Gras of 1950. This exciting prequel to The Book of Change sets the stage with grudges as old as time, dangerous new desires, and a darkness that will haunt the Keeper and those who have vowed to keep her safe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eclectic Bard Books
• Release date: Jul 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781535370790

Book preview

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Book of Time: The Custos

By Savannah Verte

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Published by

Eclectic Bard Books

USA

This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased is coincidental. The characters, names, plots, or incidents within are the product of the author’s imagination. References to actual events or locations are included to give the fiction a sense of reality.

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Copyright 2016, Savannah Verte

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All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form, by any means without written consent from Savannah Verte.

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Cover design: Suzanna Lynn, Funky Book Designs, 2017.

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ISBN:  978-1535370790 (Trade Paperback)

The history of the world, past, present, and future, resides in the pages of a single book. It is handed to the next Keeper every thirty years on Mardi Gras Day. The book only remains constant for the chosen. For anyone else, their world will change if they touch it.

with immense gratituDE

To my family;

for loving me in spite of my crazy,

for keeping the coffee flowing, & not asking questions about the mess that is ‘cave mode.’

This is for you.

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Copyright reference (1)

There shall henceforth always be two;

One to be light in the darkness,

to herald the dawn and guide the Keeper in every age. 

And,

One to signal the return from light,

to remind the fates who weave the tapestry that there cannot be one without the other.

The balance can sway but never be undone.

Only the true light and the true dark can see the line,

for all other living things, there is only the now.

So it shall be.

TIME IS COMING

Ashmael Nocte looked like a man with the worry of the world set squarely on his shoulders. As the leader of the Custos, in many ways, he was just that. Dark and foreboding, his expression never changed from the deep furrow of his brows, to the firm set line of his lips. Even those of his troupe who knew him best, stepped aside to see him coming. He was not a male to tangle with.

He, and he alone, knew the lengths his nemesis would reach to force the pendulum to swing away from his control. Balance was always the goal, but never the status. It was always to one side or the other with the next shift teetering from a ledge, waiting for an unseen distant breeze to tip it again. Moments of calm were suspect. The twisted game had played out more times than he could count, and he was weary.

Ashmael strode into 43 Chartres like he owned the place, mostly because he did. It mattered little to him that it was on the even side of the street or in the 500 block. He had been in this place since before the Quarter, before the square, before the cathedral, and before those who called this plot of land in the deep basin ‘home,’ had known it existed.

Eternity was a laughable way to describe his existence. He is, he was, and he would always be. It was decreed before there was anything, and would continue long after the known world was scattered to the far reaches again.

Those who claimed the title of Custos would all one day claim their due rest, but not Ashmael. He would never know the touch or comfort of another, nor ever experience the ease that comes with laying down his burdens. His job, like that of the one he opposed, would never be complete.

From the outside looking in, number 43 was just another door in the wall, nothing impressive or noteworthy to the passersby who flocked to this stretch of pavement by the thousands day after day. From the inside, the creature comforts were plentiful. If one had to live forever, there had to be an up. Anything and everything he could want was available, except for