Blood of Darkness: Touch of Insanity, #11

By Rosa Marchisella

With House Drenar settled in their new home and Kharee's Shield Riders creating safe communities across East Besamie, one task remains: Claim her earrings and heal the goddess, Mischa. But no one has ever conquered Jalar or its magically protected palace. Without a One King, Foss rules the world . . . if he's still alive. If Kharee can breech Jalar, will she find friends or foes waiting for her?

 

Join Kharee and her companions on this final stage of her journey to discover if the young half-elf can do what she was created to do: Heal Mischa and her world.

 

Book 1: First Steps

Book 2: Abbey Isle

Book 3: Forging Ahead

Book 4: Each According Their Worth Book

5: Into Darkness

Book 6: The Fallen

Book 7: The Birth of Pain

Book 8: The Great Divide

Book 9: Tarna'Hala

Book 10: From Ashes

Book 11: Blood of Darkness

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ember Park Imprint
• Release date: Feb 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9781989016138

Rosa Marchisella

Rosa Marchisella is the author of the gripping Touch of Insanity series and bone-chilling novella, The Greatest of Books. Her stories focus on fantasy, paranormal, and thrilling adventures. A dynamic and prolific story-teller, Rosa has earned critical praise as a writer, stage actress, vocalist, public speaker, and artist. Her hobbies include gardening, hikes, and playing games with her kids.

Book preview

Chapter 1

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The people of House Drenar were unexpectedly friendly. Someone led Wen Po to a house he would share with three other bachelors. They fed him and cared for his horse. They even found clothing for him since he’d recklessly undergone his journey with only the clothes on his back and the dress in his bag.

While the prominent family members of the house focused on expanding the village and surrounding farms to house and support everyone, the lesser members were busy fitting into their new roles in the community.

Wen Po didn’t have a place to fit in except by the Grand Advisor’s side, and that was proving just as difficult as it had been on migration day.

Don’t worry, friend, said the thin bachelor he thought of as Roommate Number Two. Jong Ji will be at the feast tonight.

Feast, is it? Very well. He could be patient for a few more hours.

Wen Po sat on the edge of his bed. He had become very good at waiting while working for the Kirru family but truly mastered it during the weeks he sat in the woods where Nhigio should have been.

When the bell clanged to summon everyone to the feast, Wen Po was very hungry — not dig-in-the-dirt-for-grubs ravenous, but hungry enough to hurry from the rooming house and follow the other citizens to the church.

Wen Po gasped and stared. So many seats! Never in his years of serving wealthy families had he seen a gathering of this size for a meal. The House of Drenar claimed a large number of citizens and to feed all of these people in one sitting . . .

Roommate Number Two pulled him into a chair at a table with people he did not know. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be with them long.

Wen Po watched people flow by, trying to spot Jong Ji in the throng. A short speech was given. A prayer. Food was passed around, and—

There! Jong Ji and his nephew sat a few tables over, talking and laughing with one of the people who had organized the migration.

Wen Po’s stomach growled. Fine. Now that he’d found the advisor, he could afford a few moments to feed himself. There was such a variety of options. He’d never eaten so well in all his years.

What’s that?

Wen Po turned in his seat to follow the pointing finger and nearly screamed as a giant blue lizard with wings landed on the tower just outside the village.

He did scream a little when two guests transformed into smaller red versions of the winged lizard and flew off.

Dragon Rider!

Dragons? Here? Wen Po stared at Lord and Lady Drenar in awe. Maybe she really was a Healer of Gods. A whisper of reverence tickled the back of his neck as he watched Lady Drenar speak with a green wood elf and a dark-skinned woman.

He jammed a forkful of roasted meat in his mouth — Mmm. So moist — and chewed furiously. I must speak to Jong Ji about this. How dare he take off on such a critical mission and leave faithful Wen Po behind? If not for the arrival of the dress, he would never have learned the truth.

Wen Po shoveled the last mouthful of delicious mashed turnip into his mouth and stood, ready to confront Jong Ji. He’d taken three steps when a high-pitched wail split the night and made everyone panic.

Northeast watchtower! someone shouted.

The Bad Man! a child shrieked.

Chaos exploded as everyone jumped into action. Soldiers herded people away from the village wall, dragging Wen Po further away from Jong Ji. Lord and Lady Drenar raced toward the siren, and a few moments later, the wailing stopped.

What’s going on? he asked no one in particular.

Someone’s trying to get to us, a woman replied in an exaggerated whisper.

Ah, yes. He’d heard about the nighttime attacks.

Open the gate, or I’ll blast it from its hinges! Lady Drenar shouted.

The energy of the crowd shifted from fear to a strange eagerness.

Kharee will deal with them! a man shouted, a fist in the air. She’ll make them sorry they ever came here!

Yeah!

The crowd buzzed with excitement.

It’s First Father Verus!

The energy changed again as people shared the news.

What? The First Father?

What’s he doing here?

A reasonable question. The way Lady Drenar and the others raced into the night suggested danger. What manner of trouble could the highest-ranking priest of Tomar, the Good bring to this small community?

Was he attacked?

The tension and concern had returned. Wen Po wanted to be elsewhere. A quiet closet in the west would be lovely, but he’d settle for the wilderness camp he lived in for weeks.

The night sky lit with a thunderous display of holy light, and everyone fell silent. They shrunk together as a group, eyes on the sky. Wen Po found himself pressed uncomfortably between an old, toothless woman and a dwarven mother.

More holy light and then a loud voice echoed through the night. "Verus of Moortun, I cast thee out."

The shrieking was horrible.

The ensuing silence was worse.

No one broke that strangled hush until Lord Drenar returned, grim-faced, with his wife clutched in his arms.

Is she . . .?

Alive, replied the priest who’d blessed the meal.

Alive, maybe, but obviously traumatized.

Chapter 2

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The large blue dragon sunned himself on the roof of Pikka’s tower, pretending not to watch us approach the front door. I waved to Vreem, and he bowed his head in reply. Knowing he was up there keeping watch comforted me.

Sha’sheen tapped her foot, gem-green eyes flashing with impatience. I didn’t know if it was a wood elf trait or simply because she was unhappy with the idea of a human entering Pikka’s home. We probably had an elven Mage Master or Mistress somewhere in our Shield network, but hunting one down to soothe Sha’sheen’s racial preferences wasn’t high on my list of priorities.

Highly trained and battle-experienced, Mage Mistress Dola was perfect for the tricky job of going through Pikka’s home. She’d be able to find and identify magical items and disarm any traps the wily elf might have set before she left home to hunt me down.

Dola wanted to take her time to avoid a triggered explosion that might kill us, and I was content to not die on Pikka’s doorstep. I still had farms to visit so I could enhance