Preludes of Taint

By D. Lambert

Four short stories in the World of Taint, taking place in the moments between.

 

Dragon Speaker

    As Master Wizard Foran Kinotela prepares to embark upon a quest to save magic, he is the victim of a theft. Finding the stolen enchanted amulet is simple; it's around the thief's neck. But as he moves to take back his goods, the thief stumbles into a potential alliance for Foran's quest. 
    Will the dragons listen to him, or to the thief?

 

Someone

     Aleen took a chance and helped a stranger. But his presence upsets her world; her partner is now threatening her, they've found a theif among them, and she may attract the attention of the Lionians who rule Espar. 
     But now she doesn't want to let him leave.

 

Black Arrow

     He was a slave with a single gift; the ability to read. When the right book falls into his hands, Maltor discovers a world unlike any he has known and begins to believe in something he had never before considered: Hope.

     He will be a legend.

 

EXCLUSIVE: To Dream

     Arekson is meant to be following the prescribed course of his life on Wanter; teaching magic. But rumors of a new kind of thinking drew him outside the polished existence he had believed in. The words spoken by the stranger threaten everything he thought he knew.  Dare he risk it all for the chance to dream for himself?

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. Lambert
• Release date: Aug 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201653071

D. Lambert

At a young age, Deborah's rampant imagination kept her up, lending great detail to all the terrible things lurking in the night. In desperation one night, her mother suggested she invent her own stories to distract her brain. She has been doing that since, channelling her ideas into mainly sword and sorcery-style fantasy novels and shorts.        In her other life, Deborah is a veterinarian. She lives in Sooke, BC, Canada,  with her husband of 10+ years,  their son, and three demanding felines.​

Book preview

Dragon Speaker

Foran released his stiff-backed posture, slouching as he exhaled. Every muscle along his kneeling legs ached. Even in the warm air, the sweat on his brow chilled him.

He had to blink twice to make the room—a rented bedroom in the village of Rodons—come into focus. The scrying circle around him dimmed its light like a setting moon, leaving the distant mountain sunrise as the only illumination.

How long? Foran asked, forcing the words through his dry throat.

Sure enough, Sterin, a burly dragon hunter with a drooping moustache, was leaning against the doorpost. You scryed straight through the night. You find anything?

The amulet was easy, Foran said. It's hanging around the thief's neck, although why he sought a trinket able to translate dragon-speech, I do not know. But I cannot find the brooch. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had no idea where his glasses were.

Is that bad? Sterin asked, his perpetual frown deepening.

Foran glared at the hunter. The man clearly had no magic sense to go with his muscles, sword, and dragon-bone bow.

Very, Foran replied. Only a wizard stronger than myself could hide my trinket from me. Before you ask, no, there is no such person alive.

Maybe you need more time, Sterin suggested. The hunter appeared to be enjoying the quiet life of a guard. He had even developed a growing gut, burning through his wages at the inn daily. Foran suspected he would be disappointed when they headed out into the wilderness.

Overworked by the magic, Foran could do nothing more today. If he allowed himself to become enervated, he would be trapped abed for days.

Tomorrow, he said with as much authority as he could, I will follow the thief. If we cannot determine where the brooch went, we will interrogate him. His head pounded, agreeing with the idea of resting first.

He managed to stop trembling long enough to crawl into bed. In his exhaustion, he neglected to remove the other magical trinkets from his robes and belt.

It was not a comfortable night.

IT TOOK TWO DAYS OF tracking the boy for Foran to admit the thief was not going to divulge where the brooch had gone. Listening in had revealed nothing. The boy did odd-jobs, was generally lazy, and seemed to know everyone in Rodons. He was unremarkable. Foran was at a loss.

On the second day, Foran decided to force a confrontation. Scrying was wearing him thin. It was time to try something new.

First thing in the morning, he picked up his rosewood staff and set off.

Sterin joined him at the door, a sour expression on his face.  You got spells for slowing him down? he asked. That scoundrel's as fast as a firedrake.

Foran snorted. He just went up last time you chased him, he reminded the hunter. Now we know he can scale walls. But he clenched his hand as he spoke, the magic ring there pinching to remind him of its presence. No matter what, he added, he cannot escape me.

In a stroke of luck, he spotted his quarry arguing with a portly scullion in the dusty street outside. The air around them shimmered like heat off embers, making him hesitate. It was not yet hot in the day. Suspicious, he activated Spell Sight but saw no wizardry in play.

Before he could aim the ring to cage the thief in magic, an immense silver dragon crashed down into the streets.

Foran froze in shock, his trinket still raised. He had heard rumours of a silver in nearby Dragon Pass but had dismissed those