Raven's Game: The Orb of Oriste, #0

By Kerry Adrienne

When desperation is a way of life, a single chance to change your fate can be irresistible...People say Raven is not a very good fairy--she's well known as the fairy who can't do anything right. In a world where magic wanes as dragons terrorize the countryside, Raven tries everything to help her family make ends meet. With creditors and collectors growing tired of excuses, Raven finds herself presented with an extraordinary opportunity. Winning the high-stakes game with some of the most terrifying creatures in Oriste would allow her to prove herself as competent, solve her money troubles, and possibly even rid her world of the overbearing dragons. Win, and no one will ever call her a failure again. Lose, and her enslavement will be soul-deep and eternal.

 

The prequel to The Orb of Oriste trilogy publishing soon! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: EarthShine Publishing
• Release date: Aug 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201987299

Kerry Adrienne

Kerry has loved writing and story-telling since she was a child reading Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys. After reading Gone with the Wind, she was forever hooked on the power of books. She's a college instructor, editor, costumer, artist, cat collector and concert-goer. She enjoys anything creative except cake decorating.  She loves loud music and her Mini-Cooper convertible, and spends a lot of time driving aroung plotting stories. 

Book preview

Introduction

Raven is an impulsive fairy with a failure complex. Fearing she’ll never be successful she joins a high-stakes game. Win, and the rewards are great. Lose, and her soul will be enslaved forever.

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For a full-color map of Oriste, please check Kerry's website here: https://www.kerryadrienne.com/orb-of-oriste-world-map/

Idon’t know if Oriste will survive this onslaught.

We aren’t ready.

Every sun cycle, dragons edge closer to the temple, the lean wolves howl, and I pray to the gods the beasts don’t shatter my bones with their sharp teeth before my work is complete. Already, the worms feast on my shell, and I tether to this existence by a single golden thread that dims with the passage of time.

So weak.

And yet, there’s important work I must complete.

All my energy funnels into searching.

It’s our only chance. Oriste’s only chance.

I must find her, but my vision is dark even in the midday sunlight, and I cannot see the threads that bind her to me, or the tangle of choices that fill the void between us. She doesn’t know I look for her and the others. She doesn’t know my pain.

I will find her. The only hope for this lonely land, she will restore the leafy tree, the fruited bush, and the slender sillenfish that slip through the water at dusk like a million silver bubbles.

The prophecy speaks of heroes who can restore the magic stolen by men who walk in scaled dragon skin.

The prophecy speaks of the three.

Yet the dragons breathe fiery songs into our mouths, and now the time is short, and the moon falls from the sky nightly, and the sun wobbles on its path.

I must help as I can.

While I can.

I hear there’s a game in Wildhold, and the stakes are high.

It’s a good place to start.

--The Last Druid, Estermoor 476

Raven winced. It had happened so many times, she knew how it was going to go before it even began. It was always the same.

Get out! The elf wadded up the large sheet of scratchy brown fabric and tossed it across the room where it fluttered to the floor like a net. She shot Raven a glare.

The room went silent, and all the girls froze. No one wanted to be the subject of the owner’s ire, or her flogging. Raven folded her hands in her lap to still the trembling and waited for the tongue lashing to finish. Her stomach stung with the weight of losing yet another job.

The elf tucked a stringy gray hair behind her pointed ear and scowled. You’re useless. Never should have hired you.

The throbbing of her own heartbeat filled Raven’s ears, muffling the sounds around her. She didn’t dare look up. She was well acquainted with the look a boss used when sending her away. It was always the same. A scowl that erupted with frustration. Mouth drawn and eyes frowning. Sometimes even an eye twitched.

Did you hear me, stupid fairy?

A fire crackled in the small stone fireplace and puffed out a smoky heat into the sewing room. Two seamstresses glanced up then ducked their heads back to their work. The others didn’t bother to sneak a glance, but Raven sensed their fear mixing with their desire to see what was happening.

At least they still had their jobs.

She slumped, chin quivering. Perhaps she could salvage the situation. I tried to do it the way you told me— She kept her voice low and even.

The old woman raised herself up to her full elven height, which wasn’t taller than a lanthin plant, and put her hands on her hips. Her eyes flashed sharp green. If the dragons hadn’t stolen most of the magic out of Oriste, Raven was sure she’d have seen lightning bolts shoot out of the elf’s eyes.

She pointed to the fabric on the floor. You’ve ruined that entire piece of fabric with your ‘trying’. Do you think cloth is free? I can’t afford to keep replacing it because you don’t know what you’re doing and can’t sew a straight line. It’s not like I expect pleats or ruffles. A damn straight line, that’s all. But no. You couldn’t even manage that.

Raven opened her mouth, but no words fell out, apologetic or otherwise. The heat of embarrassment climbed her torso onto her cheeks, and she stood to leave. No point in staying where she wasn’t wanted. She’d learned that from experience.

The elf continued. You really are the stupidest fairy in Lorkhit Ka. Yes, the whole freaking kingdom. Maybe even all of Oriste. She banged the tabletop with her fist. But did I listen when the others told me about you? No, I had to be Mrs. Nice and give you a chance. See what it got me? I don’t ever want to see your face around here again, got it? Go! She shook her head.

Raven dashed to the door, shoving it open as she passed, tears stinging her eyes. The elf’s words rang in her mind. The stupidest fairy. Stupid. Stupid. She slid her hand along the railing as she clambered down the dirt path to the village in a half jog, half slide, pebbles showering down the hill in front of her, bouncing and scattering away from her feet. She didn’t dare look back for fear she’d hear more insults.

More truths.

She half-ran down a few more dirt steps, careful not to trip on the wood beams across the stair edges. One, two…three… How many times had she counted the stairs as she left one job or another?

The air held a chill not unlike what she felt inside, and a breeze wrapped icy fingers around her exposed skin. She kept her feet moving, even though her heart felt the acidic tang of defeat. She had to talk to Benton. He’d be back from patrol shortly and would help her figure out what to do next.

A screech sounded in the distance and she shielded her eyes and searched the sky. The very land seemed to shudder under her feet and the air smelled of dirt and charcoal. A dragon was nearby, but she didn’t see it. It could be hiding in the cliffs or caves or maybe it had passed overhead without her spotting it.

She continued down the path, alert for any sign that the dragon was nearing the area, but silence filled her ears.

Soon, fall would turn to winter, and Lorkhit Ka would settle in for the snowy season in Lostmere Cliffs. The village lay at the very edge of the mountains and often became snowed in for months, with few travelers stopping by and little outside work going on at all. But the bill collectors would come asking for their money even in the snow.

Raven had hoped she’d have a job over the long winter, not be stuck at home with her family like the previous year. Babysitting wasn’t exactly what her hopes and dreams had been. She was too old to be living at home like a child—especially a fairy child. She should be out on her own already, sending money home if needed.

Once they had enough solari saved she and Benton could find a place together, but that wasn’t going to happen on his income alone, even though he made a good wage working province security. No, she needed steady work, too. But keeping a job had become problematic, and that was putting it nicely.

Stupidest fairy.

She paused on the rocky path and looked at the village spread below. Kids, elf and fairy, streamed through the narrow, cobbled streets, chasing each other and playing Lemma Le. Their chants jingled up the hillside like a memory, fat with promise, slow to kill. If only life could be a series of childish games where the only real concern was to eat when hungry, sleep when tired, and chase the lemma through town.

Instead, bills had to be paid and food bought.

No more time for games. Not even dice games, which she loved most of all. But they’d proven to not be worth it. As much as she liked gambling, she hadn’t been blessed by the luck required to make it profitable.

The path took a sharp left on its downhill trek and she hurried along the low retaining wall, her skirts brushing the rough stone with a swish-swish. A child’s laugh pealed through the crisp air. Raven’s tears dried on her face, tightening the skin like a manacle.

She was slave to her own stupidity.

Skirts pulled close, she counted the steps as she made her way to the village. The walk down the mountain path felt steeper today, like a looming metaphor she didn’t want to face.

A shrill shriek threaded through the air and she instinctively dove into one of the bushes at the side of the path. The dragon was back.

Her heart pounded and she peeked out through the leaves. High in the air, circling like a prey bird, a dragon soared. Its wings, the color of an iridescent beetle, shone in hues of shiny green and purple and she could see the spikes spreading across its snout from the tip of its nose to its golden eyes.

Benton, she whispered. Her boyfriend would be coming into town any moment. And he’d try to fend off the dragon if it came close. He wouldn’t be able to alone.

The beast circled lower, eyes on the village, mouth gaping. If it decided to strike, there was no real defense. Not yet. There’d been rumors of dragon strikes to the east, with entire villages wiped out with the breath of one dragon.

She couldn’t let Ben risk himself. Intent on getting into town to warn him, she tore from under the bush, the branches tugging at her skirt as she pulled free.

Her pace quickened and she jumped and skipped down the path toward the village. Benton was her life. He held her when she was sad and cheered her on when she had an opportunity. Why the centaur wanted anything to do with her was a mystery. A quick glance showed the dragon sailing overhead, no closer. Maybe it wasn’t coming to attack the village. Maybe it was just sailing by to terrorize.

Her shoe stuck in the mud and her momentum sent her sliding. She grabbed the railing to steady herself then held on as she made her way past the puddles and soft mud.

The town’s dragon alert horn sounded from the church tower, a long, low vibration that traveled up the hills and into any cave and cranny in the rocks. People in the village scattered.

Raven scanned the