Night of the Forgotten

By Yancy Ball

It's the holiday in Namu - the one where the forsaken dead haunt the city, taking souls to the underworld. This time, they want Zhura and Keya's souls. Will their budding attraction for each other save them? They might have a chance to survive... if they can trust each other.

Night of the Forgotten is a short story about Zhura and Keya's first adventure together - the fifth book in the series, While the Gods Slumber.

While the Gods Slumber is a erotic fantasy adventure series about love and legacy in a world rich with beauty, danger and ancient lore. If you like stories set in well-imagined worlds populated by multi-dimensional characters - human and otherwise, this might be the story for you. But it is not for the faint of heart! It contains mythical creatures that lust for human flesh, and graphic sexual situations.

This book includes a sample of Book 6 of the series, The Bitter Fruit of Home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Yancy Ball
• Release date: Aug 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005298517

Yancy Ball

As an amateur writer with a vastly overactive imagination, Yancy Ball has been writing sexy heroines into African-inspired fantasy realms for many years. During the day, Yancy enjoys cycling, martial arts, and conspiring to build a brighter future. Read Yancy’s Smashwords interview at https://www.smashwords.com/interview/yibala.

Book preview

Night of the Forgotten

by Yancy Ball

Published by Yancy Ball

Copyright 2021

Smashwords Edition

Cover Art by The Illustrated Page Book Design and Sleepy Fox Studios

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Ancestors

Barasa

Farewells

Sample, The Bitter Fruit of Home

About the Author

Other Books

Connect

Ancestors

Hallowed Ancestor! I have poured the wine. I have spiced the meal. I have told the world of your legacy. Grant me long life!

– Common prayer.

Southside Hazard ruins, city of Namu. Year 3125, Month of Praise.

Keya Oko awakened to the scents of fresh rain and old mud. She lay in a low-ceilinged, earthen cell, lit only by the dying flame of an oil lamp. Raffia fronds covered the floor, their slender leaves fresh and dry. Someone had laid them down recently, though the chamber itself reeked of age and abandon.

She was alone.

Her memory came back, of a wordless march alongside the herb-witch Zhura; of a night of drizzle and sorrow. They had entered the southern edge of the Hazard – that vast, unwarded slum of the city of Namu. Keya had managed an exhausted crawl into this warren on her hands and knees, trailing the barely-clad backside of the forest dweller.

Stay here, Zhura ordered, just before Keya succumbed to sleep. "You’ll be safe under the sanju’s watch until I return."

How long had Keya slept? Given the hollowness of her belly, it must have been several hours or more.

Nearly by instinct, Keya’s hand found her satchel lying next to her. It contained everything she possessed in all the world. Vellum sheets, quill and ink, and… there, Blossom’s summoning stone. Her fingers curled around the weighty wooden phallus as if the veiny grooves in it had been made for her hand. Made for her willing flesh…

But as much as she craved the demon’s touch, this was not the time.

Wrapped in a palm leaf next to her were a pair of mangoes and a knife with a worn wooden hilt. She devoured the lush fruit, cutting through the rind and slicing juicy flesh off in strips. A gourd beside the fruit was full of watered palm wine.

She eased up on sore legs, just able to stand in the cramped room. Keya picked up the clay lamp and poked around, making use of the chamberpot and noting extra sleeping mats. A passage ventured deeper into the darkness. The stench of mold and old sweat was enough to satisfy any curiosity she had in that direction.

The other exit, she recalled, climbed back to the outside. The dank hole reminded her of the crypt in the Ijon River swamp where she had first encountered Blossom. It seemed her entire life had been exchanging one form of captivity for another.

So this is to be my new cage?

Her cowl was pulled back, her bush of pale yellow hair laid bare. It would shine like a beacon to anyone who spotted her.

Grabbing the lamp and her satchel, she ducked into the entrance tunnel. Even as she crawled up, she could feel the moisture through her filthy cloak. Rivulets of rainwater trickled down the slant of the passage. With some difficulty, she slid the stone lid off of the entrance way. She held the light in front of her face.

It was night – which meant that it must have been the following night. She was inside the half-collapsed shell of a house. There was only a memory of a roof above her. The rain was steady, fat drops splashing on her face.

When she had come in with Zhura, all of the buildings nearby were shattered and abandoned. Keya had heard of this place, on the southern edge of the Hazard. A mudslide washed through four years before, burying many of the unfortunates who lived here. Apparently, no one had rebuilt.

Where was Zhura’s demon?

"Sanju demon, Keya said. She repeated it, louder. She knew of these creatures. They were elusive and impish, but mainly harmless. Come out!"

Perhaps a sanju was not the best choice for a guard.

She emerged from the tunnel, shielding the flame of the lamp with one hand. The air felt charged with energy, as it was