The Drakoneborne: Killing Fire (Volume 2): Symposium (Volume 1)

By Isabella Rosinante

PHAESTUS is in turmoil in the aftermath of a bloody symposium. KYROS AND TALUS flee for their lives, pursued by the soldiers of the ruthless King Erythrus.

Meanwhile, MEROPE and her siblings must navigate a dangerous world to protect Talus, who has devel

• Language: English
• Publisher: ARCHMOSPHERE
• Release date: May 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9781955266048

Book preview

CHRONOLOGY

Killing Fire picks up where Symposium left off, following the intertwining paths of Pylyp, Iris, Erythrus, Merope, Theresa, Kyros, and other characters as they face new challenges and opportunities. As their story unfolds, readers will be drawn deeper into the intricate web of relationships and secrets that bind them.

The narrative will continue to employ the limited omniscient point of view, providing insights into the characters’ inner worlds and motivations. However, as the stakes grow higher and the conflicts intensify, the focal character may shift more frequently, highlighting the various perspectives and tensions that drive the plot forward.

Readers can expect a mix of action, romance, and intrigue, as well as themes of power and betrayal, allowing for a deeper exploration of the characters’ psyches and relationships, as well as a deeper understanding of the forces that shape their destinies.

Next up, Brazen Bull.

Isabella Rosinante

Titles available in the Drakoneborne series

(in reading order):

Volume I: Symposium

Volume II: Killing Fire

Volume III: Brazen Bull

Volume IV: Bad News

Volume V: Storm of the Arrows

Volume VI: The Divine Does Not Speak in Logic

KYROS

The music ceased, leaving behind a deafening silence, soon to be replaced by the acrid stench of fear and disorder. The once lavish feast had been transformed into a blood-soaked spectacle, with all the guests now reduced to mere prey. Kyros and Talus knew they had to flee—and fast.

They darted towards the furnace area, but the Cretan soldier, with a grizzled and imposing frame, was hot on their trail, driven by a burning desire for vengeance.

Suddenly, the pious fool with leathery brown skin managed to grab Talus by the arm, his grip like iron. Trembling with fear, Talus grasped a nearby grill fork and plunged it into the soldier’s neck. The soldier crumpled to the earth. His blood gushed out like a crimson river, drenching Petra and the cooks, Kleobis, and Philetor, who were tending to the food.

Kleobis, with his small, heavily bagged eyes and a crooked nose darkened by blackheads, had a blunt, brutish face with an outsized black moustache. His brother, Philetor, was a chunky man with short legs, thick arms, and a wide red face crowned with a shock of dark brown hair that only served to accentuate his outsized black moustache.

Bloodshot eyes flashed with rage, their throats parched, as Talus ripped the soldier’s life away from him.

‘We must make for the sea,’ Kyros urged, and the flick of a drakon’s tail sent tremors through the stone walls, causing debris to tumble down on them.

Philetor would have been caught under the rubble, but he darted away like a frightened rabbit, scampering towards the east. Meanwhile, the others fled westward, pursued by the thumping of soldiers’ shoes echoing through.

As they raced through the forest, the frantic footsteps of their pursuers followed closely behind. The trees loomed overhead, casting an eerie shadow on the ground below. The scent of burning wood and roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the coppery tang of blood like a luscious symphony.

Down the hill they went, their legs churned like millstones as they ran towards the sea. The sound of barking dogs from their kennels grew louder as they approached the shore, and a small fishing boat came into view.

No sailors, a voice inside Kyros whispered.

The salty smell of the sea filled their nostrils. Kleobis was the first to get on the boat, his face portraying scars of fear.

‘Hurry, get on!’ he shouted, weakness evident in his voice.

Kyros seized Petra by the wrist, helping her board the boat. The rough texture of the wooden planks pressed against his bare hands as he leaned over.

As he reached for the boat, it groaned under his burden and teetered perilously. Their hopes sank like a stone as the boat leaned to one side, burdened, unable to carry them all.

‘There’s not enough room for all of us,’ Kyros admitted, his voice heavy with defeat. ‘Row for the Fallen Stars. Whatever you do, do not change course!’

‘But what about you? And him?!’ Petra gestured towards Talus.

‘We’ll find our own way,’ Kyros replied, his eyes scanning the boat. He grabbed some fishing garments and threw them into their faces. ‘Put these cloaks on and keep your heads down. Act like commoners trying to make their way home. This is a small fishing boat. No one will pay attention to it unless you look suspicious.’

‘And who will sail the boat? I have never been a seafarer. The Libyan Sea around here is perilous,’ Petra replied.

‘We don’t have time to argue,’ Kyros responded sternly. ‘The soldiers could catch up with us any moment now. This boat can brave the swift currents and rocky chutes. Have faith.’

‘It’s not that hard. I can show you.’ Stricken with fear, Kleobis’s voice grew fainter as Petra glared at him.

‘You are kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit. You know how very fond of you I am. Do not fear. I will come back to you.’ He brushed his fingers along Petra’s face, then pushed the boat away. ‘Have a swift and safe voyage.’

As they departed, the boat gently rocked back and forth with the rhythm of the waves. The sound of the oars splashing into the water and the creak of the wooden boat filled the air. Petra took hold of the oars, pale and silent, while Kleobis sat in the back, his