The Great Divide: Touch of Insanity, #8

By Rosa Marchisella

Finally back in Besamie, Kharee and her surviving companions find themselves on the wrong side of the Great Divide and lost in orc territory. A self-appointed child king rules western Besamie with a bloody hand. With magic and holy powers outlawed and all ports closed, the path across the Divide is barred.

 

When a strange new tribe invades orc territory, the group discovers they weren't the ones who came through the rift. As old bonds are left behind and new ones form, Kharee and her new companions place their hopes in a rumor.

 

Touch of Insanity is a complete series with cliffhangers that require the books to be read in order.

 

Book 1: First Steps

Book 2: Abbey Isle

Book 3: Forging Ahead

Book 4: Each According Their Worth Book

5: Into Darkness

Book 6: The Fallen

Book 7: The Birth of Pain

Book 8: The Great Divide

Book 9: Tarna'Hala

Book 10: From Ashes

Book 11: Blood of Darkness

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ember Park Imprint
• Release date: Aug 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781989016114

Rosa Marchisella

Rosa Marchisella is the author of the gripping Touch of Insanity series and bone-chilling novella, The Greatest of Books. Her stories focus on fantasy, paranormal, and thrilling adventures. A dynamic and prolific story-teller, Rosa has earned critical praise as a writer, stage actress, vocalist, public speaker, and artist. Her hobbies include gardening, hikes, and playing games with her kids.

Book preview

Chapter 1

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The screaming woke me. Dozens of voices howled. Were the dead calling for me? I opened my eyes and immediately squeezed them shut again to avoid the blinding white glare.

Snow. I am buried in snow. A bitter wind screamed and howled as I lay swallowed by the deceptively soft bed of snow, surrounded by a blizzard.

My thoughts and movements came slowly. I channeled the power of Tomar through me. Warmth flooded my body, and I shivered at the sudden contrast.

I heard a low moan under the shriek of the wind and rolled toward it. I bumped against something hard pressed against my side. My scimitar protruded from the snow, tip reaching toward the dark sky. I shuddered. I had fallen less than a hands-width from being impaled on my sword.

Ice pellets scoured my stiff face as I cast a glance around. The cold stole my breath, and the air was thin.

Feather lay in the snow with her back leg at an awkward angle, moaning in pain. Terror, Ferean, and Happy huddled around the horse for comfort and warmth. I crawled toward them, extending the aura of warmth around us.

The other animals were unharmed, but Feather’s eyes were closed, and her breath came in shallow pants. I put my hands on her and gently healed her. She shivered and chuffed, crying out when I had to move her broken leg into place, but she remained still until I finished. Feather snorted and rolled to her feet, bumping her head against my shoulder.

I placed my forehead against the side of her face. You’re welcome, my friend.

Ferean yipped for my attention, pawing at the snow a short distance away.

Oh gods! My brain was so addled that I forgot about my companions.

I followed Ferean through the drifting snow and found Gor in a crumpled heap. I touched his cheek and used my powers to check his health. Not dead, but not doing well. His shoulder was broken. I rolled the dwarf onto his back and pulled his body straight before healing him.

His eyes fluttered open, and Ferean licked his face. Gor grunted and gave the wolf a heavy-handed pat.

There you are.

I screamed in surprise and spun toward the unexpected voice. Foss huddled under his cloak and offered Gor a hand, hauling the dwarf to his feet.

Ye gods, man! You scared half a century out of me! I flooded them both with warmth and led them toward the animals. Are you well?

Fine.

A sideways movement caught my attention, and I stared past Foss, trying to get a better view. A large shadow moved toward us through the heavy curtain of snow.

Foss noticed me staring and turned to look.

Here! He waved. Help us!

The form continued in our direction. I hoped it was someone friendly for a change. I was weary of fighting and being on guard.

I drifted toward my scimitar but left it where it was. I didn’t want to make any threatening moves until we knew who we were facing.

The shadow became a vast bundle of furs and stopped a few feet away. The newcomer wore a band with slits over their eyes to protect against the snow. They motioned to the sky and made a motion like an expanding circle while imitating a ripping sound.

The void.

I nodded. Yes. We came from the hole in the sky.

The fur-clad person stared over their shoulder as if contemplating, then motioned us to follow.

I snatched my sword and sheathed it, then hurried to follow through the deep snow.

We pulled our cloaks from our packs, but they hardly blocked the sharp wind. Foss and I dug out the rabbit skin mittens from Martha and Karl, and Gor wrapped cloth around his hands. I continued to pour warmth into them as we followed our silent savior.

Our boots were wet, sheets of ice crusted our pants, and the relentless wind plastered our cloaks against our bodies. I wrapped shirts around the animals’ faces to keep their noses from icing over, and we did the same.

How did our savior know where to find us? And why didn’t they have something warm for us? We tried asking, but they waved our words away and motioned again for us to follow.

We walked for ages with the yowling storm tearing at us, ripping our breath away, and pushing us through the gray landscape. I had to keep my friends alive, but I was so tired.

Worse, my mind played tricks on me. I could hear Chasing Rabbit calling for me. I saw Ben’s haunted expression as we stood face-to-face for the last time. My heart was numb at the thought that I killed him.

Finally. Was I happy or pained? I couldn’t tell. I felt as cold inside as the biting snow.

A sheer stone cliff loomed unexpectedly ahead, and I stopped abruptly.

What now?

Our guide brushed a mitten-covered hand along it. I peered closer as their hand disappeared into the rock face. I rubbed my swollen eyes. When I could see again, our guide was gone.

Magic?

No. The guide’s arm reappeared, beckoning us to follow, and I realized they were behind a stone outcrop. The blinding snow and the odd angle of the stone conspired to create the illusion of a solid wall.

I put my hand out and found the edge of the rock. Stepping around it, I discovered a wide passage to my right where our guide waited. I retreated from behind the wall to grab Feather’s bridle and led her into the passageway. The others followed.

Although it was still cold behind the sheltering wall, the tormenting wind didn’t follow. My ears rang from the quiet as we followed our guide down the passage. Lanterns lit the way, and the ground slanted downward. The passage took a sharp left turn, and I stumbled on . . . Nothing.

The ground was smooth and evenly graded, but my feet felt like wooden blocks. I had tripped over my toes. Foss put a hand between my shoulders to steady me, but it felt more like he was pushing me off balance.

I was tired. My legs wobbled, and I pulled on more power to keep myself upright.

The passage opened into an enormous room with fireplaces at either end. There were tables and benches in small clusters and wide chairs near the fires, but no one occupied them. We headed for a fireplace, eager to dry off, while our guide removed their fur coverings.

We huddled around the large hearth and didn’t notice the figure in one of the chairs until it spoke.