The Witch's Apprentice: Dreamsong Chronicles, #2

By Jean DiFalco

Book II of Jean DiFalco's young adult fantasy series, the Dreamsong Chronicles, takes us deep into Alterra's mysterious Fog, all the way to Vall de Nog, a cozy refuge for folks magical and otherwise.

The compelling sequel to The Fortune-teller's Daughter, this YA Fantasy set in a gaslamp universe is perfect for fans of Stephanie Garber's Caraval and Alice Hoffman's The Museum of Extraordinary Things.

 

After losing her sister to the Fog, and her mother to a sleep like death, Solé finds herself in the hodge-podge village that's plagued her dreams for as long as she can remember. Miriam, the tiny settlement's resident wise woman and witch, is sure Solé's landed exactly where she's destined to be and assures her that Roamers aren't the only ones who know how to consult with Ayir, Alesora, and Avance. Solé's not so sure.

 

She can't shake the feeling that the fairytale hamlet hidden in the Fog and Miriam herself, harbor important secrets. She's sure she's missing something. Because even the most talented seers have blind spots, and there just may be some truths she's not ready to face.

 

Unfortunately, Solé doesn't have much choice. Without Miriam's magical training, she can't hope to safely find her way out of the Fog, much less save her sister and mother. Meanwhile, she's found friendship, and perhaps something more with a handsome stero boy, Zane. But what if it's as her childhood friend, Alex says--and outsiders can't be trusted? Or at least not when you're a Roamer...

 

One thing is clear: Solé knows she can't do it all alone. But who can she trust? Can she forgive a figure from her past if it means saving her family?

 

★★★★★ "Terrific read. Having gone after her sister, she now has to deal with the strangers and strangeness that surrounds her. Meeting witches, fairies and trolls are just part of her learning curve." -Krystyna, Amazon Reviewer

★★★★★ "Ms. DiFalco continues to craft her finely drawn characters, capturing the heart of what it means to be an adolescent in a troubling world. Part of Solé wants to be faithful to her destiny as a Covari seer, but part of her wants to grow wings and fly. Will she successfully navigate this world of shadows?" -Elizabeth Simons, Editor, Read.Learn.Write

★★★★★ "This book is the second in the series and picks up right where the first one ended. I love the main character - a strong and independent young woman. Kept me entranced right up until the end! Can't wait for the third book to come out!!" -Adrienne, Amazon Reviewer

★★★★★ "Solé finds the village of her dreams. She finds someone who was supposed to be dead. Many things happen, but I won't tell, read them and experience them." Pam, Amazon Reviewer

★★★★ "Solé is a young woman who will do what she must, no matter the danger. This is an interesting tale that will draw you in." -Kimberly, Amazon Reviewer

 

*Vall de Nog is not intended to be read as a stand-alone book.

 

˃˃˃ If you couldn't get enough of the magick, independent female characters, and family drama in The Fortune-teller's Daughter, you'll love The Witch's Apprentice. Follow 16-year-old Solé in her battle to overcome the odds and embrace her destiny, whether that means staying loyal to her roots or reaching beyond everything she's ever known to become the Oracle and save the world.

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Don't wait! Scroll up to grab a copy of The Witch's Apprentice today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jean DiFalco
• Release date: Aug 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201774271

Jean DiFalco

Jean DiFalco is a writer, traveler, and artist. She grew up in the American Midwest and spent her late teens and twenties traveling the world. For the time being, she’s settled in Barcelona, Spain with her partner, piles of books, and a grumpy housecat named after her favorite Nordic god. When she’s not working with words or painting, she’s traveling (or sleeping). Feel free to email her at [e-mail] or visit her at JeanDiFalco.com. She loves hearing from readers!

Book preview

Prologue

Zelda ventured deeper and deeper into the Fog. Here the air was as thick as spun sugar and only transparent enough to see through in the odd spot where it was stretched thin. It’d only been a few days since she left the Covari’s camp at the Solstice Festival in search of her missing goddaughters Solé and Dora, but it felt like weeks. Zelda drew traveling runes into the unknown, appearing and reappearing, over and over. But everywhere looked the same. She had to find her way back to the village, and the witch who’d hidden it away, deep in the Fog.  She would need the help of the unusual woman who’d helped  tame Zelda and her cousin Sybil’s dons into something controllable all those years ago, before Sybil married Iban, long before Zelda gave up the pleasure of using her gifts, not to mention a life and a family of her own for the greater good.

The witch would know how to help her dear ones. She’d know how to find Dora and Solé and what to do about their mother, Sabine. The witch always knew. The problem was getting her to tell, to share the things she saw. She wasn’t always willing to give destiny a helping hand—even if her insights into Ayir, Alesora, and Avance were matched by none.

Zelda ran her fingers over and over the teardrop shaped amulet in her pocket, memorizing its shape by touch and soothing her nerves. It was a bittersweet blessing at best. So her great-great-great-great grandmother’s priceless artifact hadn’t been lost after all. It’d been hidden in Terra’s heart all these years with no one the wiser. Surely Terra had chosen now to relinquish it into her hands for a reason. It had to be a good omen. It had to mean there was hope for her girls.  Zelda was willing to sacrifice what little she had left to save them and bring the tribes back to power. Finally, they’d get back everything they’d been forced to give up after Alessandra.

She took a deep breath and was just about to draw another traveling rune to disappear into when she spotted the shape of a man moving in her direction. He called out in a familiar-sounding timbre.

Is anyone there? Sabine?

Who asks after my daughter in the depths of the Fog?

It can’t be. Sybil?  Dani turned in a circle but saw nothing but the too-opaque air of the Fog.

I’m afraid not.

Who else would call Sabine daughter? Only one woman he could think of. Zelda?

In the flesh. Dani, is it?

But you’re not Sabine’s mother. Dani pushed his way through the mists towards the voice until he was finally face to face with the woman who’d played such a big part in raising the woman he loved his entire life.

That may be so, but she will always be the daughter of my heart. Zelda looked hard at the man who’d loved her daughter enough to follow her into parts unknown. The man who’d gone after Sabine. For her he’d faced a fate the tribes viewed as worse than death, even after Sabine had refused him, time after time, choosing her solitude, and yearning after her disappeared husband over starting over with her childhood sweetheart.

I guess a goddaughter is a daughter of sorts.

As the title itself implies, Zelda crossed her arms. She wasn’t about to reveal her secret. Sabine didn’t even know the truth about her parentage. Let the man think whatever he liked. She’d have to be more careful with her words. Runes weren’t the only symbols full of power.

What are you doing here?

I could ask you the same question. Sabine came back to us days ago. She showed up alone in the midst of a funeral pyre for you both. We had thought you both gone forever, lost in the Fog or passed on to the waters of Jonah’s ocean. It was quite the scandal, to say the least.

Is she well?

I’m afraid not. She’s a shell of the woman she was at best. Breathing and little else.

How’d she even make it back to the Solstice Festival Camp?

An Old One was using her to get to Dora.

An Old One?

An evil spirit looking for a vessel.

Dani turned white, So Sabine was possessed after all.

In a manner of speaking, yes.

And Dora?

Dora was taken.

Dani swallowed, his face white, Solé?

Went after her sister. She chased Dora through the Solstice Festival in the capital and directly into the Fog, much like you did my Sabine.

Dani clasped and unclasped his large hands, But why you? I mean why are you here?

"Because someone has to at least try to save my girls." Zelda closed her eyes slowly, held them shut for a long moment and then flashed them open to reveal irises the color of cafei in the sun, swirling with rage and pain.

What about Iban?

He’s preoccupied with protecting his young wife and the heir she’ll bear him before next year’s festival.

Aida’s with child? Surprise and something like regret flashed brief and bright in Dani’s eyes.

Yes, and just in time to replace the daughter and granddaughters Iban’s lost to the Fog.

Still, why you? Couldn’t Iban send someone in his place?

Iban can’t or won’t leave the tribe. Sybil left this world long ago. Sabine sleeps like the princess in that stero fairy story. She wakes for nothing, like one bespelled and waiting for true love’s kiss. Liam’s been gone for years, and I didn’t hope to see you ever again. That leaves me and only me to save what family I have left.  Zelda’s voice was as calm and matter-of-fact as her eyes refused to be.

But who’s taking care of Sabine back at camp? Dani asked, the panic and worry lowering his voice to nearly a whisper.

Her father will make sure she’s attended to. I assure you that me staying did absolutely nothing for her. I tried my luck with all of the tinctures and remedies, all of the healer’s magick at my disposal. Sabine doesn’t flinch or open her eyes, or react in the least. I need help. There’s a village here in the Fog that I know of, and a witch there. She has the answers I seek, I just have to find her.

Dani saw the woman he’d so underestimated his entire life with new eyes. Can I help?

Zelda looked at the boy she’d watched grow up. He’d overcome a broken heart and injured pride, again and again to become a man worthy of a woman’s love. She couldn’t just leave him here, in the middle of the Fog. He’d kept Solé’s secret all these years, perhaps he could be trusted to keep one of hers, too. She nodded at the handsome horse trainer, grabbed hold of his upper arm and smirked. This may make you feel a little sick, the first time.

What do you mean? Dani’s bicep flexed uneasily under her hand, as if readying to help him break away and escape.

Zelda answered by painting a large traveling rune in the air in front of them with two fingers, and pulling them both into it and away. Sometimes making explanations ahead of time was worse than just taking the leap.

A Familiar Place

Solé froze in front of the gates to the fairy-tale village in the Fog as the woman from the dream that had been haunting her for years slipped through them, pushing aside the heavy iron as if it weighed nothing. Solé’s mouth hinged open. The lady in question was just as she remembered. Her hazel eyes were bright with a strange mixture of mischief and knowledge. There was grief there, too, creeping in around the edges and bleeding out into the creases that framed her gaze. A cloud of pinkish strawberry blonde hair streaked with white framed her heart-shaped face.

No need to gawk, child. You and I are old friends. My name is Miriam. Welcome to Vall de Nog, the woman reached forward and patted Solé’s hand.

But I’ve never seen you before, Solé lied, cringing at the woman’s touch. After everything she’d seen and been through these last weeks it was hard to trust her eyes or ears, much less the woman who’d been in her nightmares for so long. Was this some sort of trick? It wasn’t such a stretch. After all, those creatures, the Old Ones, the boy had called them, had somehow broken through the Fog and her mother’s defenses.

This despite the fact that Maman was a powerful seer in her own right. Of course as it’d turned out, they weren’t after Sabine, they were after her little sister, Dora. Dora wasn’t just any seven-year-old. She was special. Like Solé, Dora had a gift that hadn’t shown up in the tribes for generations: Dreamsong.

With it, the sisters could sway anyone within range of their voices to their cause by making them experience what they described like someone living it firsthand. They could make the listener see what they saw, and feel what they felt. It was the family’s most carefully guarded secret. The don was considered so dangerous that it’d been forbidden among all Roamers across all of Alterra, and if anyone in the tribes found out the Covari chieftain’s granddaughters had been born with it, they’d likely have been expelled or worse. She shuddered at the thought of what exactly the evil beings from the Fog might want to do with her sister’s power.

Could Miriam be one of them in disguise? Could one of the wicked creatures have sat in on her dreams and recreated the woman somehow? Was the beautiful boy part of some illusion they’d created, too? He stood very still and watched her, gauging her reaction to Miriam, but kept surprisingly quiet given the barrage of questions he’d launched at her just moments earlier, when she’d first arrived with Alex.

Now that’s not exactly true, is it child? Miriam squeezed her hand, How many years have you seen me in your dreams? You think that was just a coincidence? You need me to help you learn to use your gifts, and we need you here in Vall de Nog.

What do you know about my gifts? Solé’s green eyes glittered with curiosity and something close to fear underneath auburn brows pushed together. And what is this place, this Vy de Nog?

This is a sanctuary. The only one to be found this side of the Fog. Miriam hedged, skipping over the question Solé most wanted an answer to. Now let’s be off. We don’t want to be on this side of the gates after dark, especially not with a shell that they can play with. The old woman looked at Alex’s still form sprawled on the ground just behind Solé, and pursed her lips.

Alex isn’t a shell. Solé crossed her arms and glared. He’s a loyal friend, a boy I’ve known my entire life, for as long as I can remember. And I won’t be leaving him behind for any monsters to play with, either. Roamers look after their own.

Miriam drew her brows together and made a tut-tut sort of noise before turning to the bronze-haired boy from Solé’s dreams. Whatever you say, my dear. Zane, carry the sh-the boy in and I’ll escort Miss Covari.

How did you—?

You think with what I know, your family name would be off limits? The Roamers aren’t the only ones who know how to connect with Ayir, Alesora, and Avance, child. I’ve known you since before you were born. You were destined to come here. Miriam beckoned Solé through the gates behind her as Zane heaved Alex’s well-muscled form over his shoulder. Alex had to outweigh the slimly built stero boy by more than a few stones, but Zane only grunted a little and got moving.

Solé looked back at the clearing as she stepped through the gates, But, my sister—

Miriam wagged a finger at her as she led the way, hobbling down a cobblestone street illuminated with oil lamps. Your sister is right where you left her. Since it appears you don’t know much about your own talents I’ll tell you one of the many things you’ll need to learn: you can’t affect those already sleeping with Dreamsong. Miriam gestured around her. And here, inside the Fog, Dreamsong doesn’t work quite the same way. You don’t just make people see and feel things. Instead, you actually make things happen, make people and places appear out of thin air. It’s a much more powerful don inside the Fog than outside the Fog.  Just as you sung yourself here, albeit by accident, Dora can escape the Old Ones and sing herself home, all she has to do is wake up. Miriam stopped in front of a stone cottage with a heavy wooden door and pulled a brass skeleton key on a ribbon out of her pocket and began fiddling with the rusted heart-shaped lock.

What’s Dreamsong? interrupted Zane.

It’s the gift that will save us all. Miriam didn’t even look at him as she answered. Instead, she turned to gaze into Solé’s green eyes, as if searching for something. You, my dear girl, will save us and your sister, she’ll save your people. Alterra, All Terra, Miriam paused, has never known a seer the likes of you, Soledad. Or your sister Salvadora, for that matter. Miriam turned back to the door, pushing it open, then waving Zane past with Alex still slung over his shoulder.

Solé hesitated at the threshold, But can’t I send her home with Dreamsong from right here somehow? Isn’t there a work around or a loophole? Dora’s just a child. She wrung her hands.

Without a word, Zane pushed past the two women, and heaved Alex down on a narrow couch in one corner of the room and stomped down the hall, slamming a door behind him.

Miriam ushered Solé into her cottage, shaking her head as she answered. The Fog doesn’t care about age or origin or any of us, specifically, really. It just is. And the Old Ones, the Old Ones demand a sacrifice.

Solé’s fingers balled into fists as she pushed the words through her teeth. They’re not getting my sister.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, child, but you’ll find that like so many things in life, the fate of your sister may not be up