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Touch of Insanity: Collected Edition 2: Touch of Insanity
Touch of Insanity: Collected Edition 2: Touch of Insanity
Touch of Insanity: Collected Edition 2: Touch of Insanity
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Touch of Insanity: Collected Edition 2: Touch of Insanity

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THE WHOLE WORLD HAS GONE MAD

 

Young half-elf, Kharee of Felton, wants a simple life as a sheepherder, but the gods have other plans. Although intended to heal the goddess, Mischa, interference in her creation left Kharee blocked from her abilities and clueless to her purpose while her family waited to see if she'd been tainted by evil.

When Kharee runs away from home to join a group of adventurers, her powers start to manifest. But not everyone is who they seem, and the people she trusts have secrets and hidden agendas that involve her future. Hunted across two worlds, Kharee races to find what she needs to unleash her full powers. Friends turn against her, enemies rise to destroy her, and allies appear in the most unexpected places.

 

Pirates, dragons, werewolves, vampires, undead creatures, and all deadly monsters — Touch of Insanity is a fast-paced, heart-touching, laugh-out-loud adventure for all ages. Perfect for collecting or gifting, the entire 11-book series is now bound in two beautiful volumes, including maps and an extensive glossary.

 

Collected Edition 1 contains books 1 - 5

Collected Edition 2 contains books 6 - 11

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 19, 2024
ISBN9781989016800
Touch of Insanity: Collected Edition 2: Touch of Insanity
Author

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.

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    Book preview

    Touch of Insanity - Rosa Marchisella

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    Touch of Insanity Series List

    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 Emotion

    Book 8: The Great Divide

    Book 9: Tarna’Hala

    Book 10: From Ashes

    Book 11: Blood of Darkness

    Touch of Insanity: Collected Edition 2

    Books 6 - 11

    Rosa Marchisella

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    Ember Park Imprint

    Copyright © 2010-2024 by ROSA MARCHISELLA

    All rights reserved.

    No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [include publisher/author contact info].

    The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

    Cover: Ricky Gunawan / Ricky Illustration

    eBook ISBN: 978-1-989016-80-0

    Paperback ISBN: 978-1-989016-95-4

    Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-989016-91-6 

    Contents

    Maps

    East Besamie

    West Besamie

    The Drift

    The Fallen

    Touch of Insanity: Book 6

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    The Birth of Emotion

    Touch of Insanity: Book 7

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Chapter 25

    Chapter 26

    The Great Divide

    Touch of Insanity: Book 8

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Tarna’Hala

    Touch of Insanity: Book 9

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    From Ashes

    Touch of Insanity: Book 10

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Blood of Darkness

    Touch of Insanity: Book 11

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Glossary

    CHARACTERS

    LOCATIONS

    RACES

    MONSTERS

    ABILITIES & GIFTS

    DEITIES & AVATARS

    BESAMIES’S CREATION

    HEART STONE

    DRENAR HISTORY

    TRADITIONS & HOLIDAYS

    SPECIALISTS

    TERMINOLOGY

    PRONUNCIATION GUIDE

    Also By

    About

    Maps

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    WEST BESAMIE

    EAST BESAMIE

    THE DRIFT

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    The Fallen

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    Touch of Insanity: Book 6

    Blessed are they who fall like rain

    For they are free of our mortal pain.

    The Cursed

    Chapter 1

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    The night made strange sounds here. Sometimes, it didn’t make any sounds, which was scarier. The road along this stretch rose higher than the twisted trees around us, which provided a good vantage point to see if anything approached. I didn’t want to enter the dark woods to seek shelter, so we made camp in the middle of the cold, hard-packed road.

    Ferean had tracked a small deer earlier, and we waited in a tense silence while it cooked. Pip and Ferean gnawed large knobs of bone, contentedly sighing. Juices dripped into the fire to sizzle out. I glanced about nervously, praying the smell of our roasting supper didn’t attract unwanted visitors.

    Gor kept watch on one side of the camp while Gilum paced the other side, grumbling to himself. He seemed more anxious since entering the forest, snapping and huffing impatiently. Chasing Rabbit and Phillip discussed grooming techniques, which the boy practiced on my camel skin cloak. Foss slept with his head on his pack. Soft snores escaped every few moments.

    The sun faded into the gray horizon without a hint of colored splendor. This cursed land leeched the pleasure out of everything, and the night chill set in before the sun finished its descent.

    My skin prickled, and I glanced around again, worried Ben was plotting some new ridiculous breed of trouble. He brooded in silence with his cloak wrapped tightly around himself, attention focused inward, but Gilum stared at me from under low brows. The weight of his intensity unnerved me, and a sense of foreboding slithered across the back of my neck.

    What do you say? I asked no one in particular, leaning forward to inspect the cooking meat. You think it’s about ready?

    Cooked enough for me, Gilum growled, stalking over to pull a piece from the fire. I passed around the remaining portions until only Foss’s remained over the flames.

    Phillip eyed the sleeping bard. Should we remove Lord Foss’s piece?

    The Fabulous likes his meat crispy on the inside, I replied. Let it cook until it screams for mercy.

    As if in obedience to my instruction, the fire erupted into a roaring flame, greedily engulfing Foss’s slab of meat.

    Gilum jumped with a shout, which startled us as much as the fire had. I’ll be gettin’ that!

    The dwarf stuck a hand into the flames and retrieved the burning meat.

    I chuckled nervously. I guess Foss’s culinary tastes will be satis—

    Gilum raised the burning slab to his opened mouth.

    No! I flung out a hand to stop him. Too late. His beard ignited with a whoosh!

    I scrambled to my feet, and Pip yelped as I tripped over him in my haste to reach Gilum. My companions stared in mute horror as I patted the flames out.

    The dwarf’s eyes were wide as if shocked the fire would dare set his beard ablaze. Black smudges patterned his face where my fingers had touched him. His face smoked in spots, and his beard was gone, but he didn’t seem permanently damaged.

    All right? I tentatively asked.

    Gilum turned his blank gaze to me with a ground-shaking belch and blinked, coming to his senses.

    My body trembled from the aftermath of the scare. My legs wobbled, and I sat hard on the ground. A sputter of laughter escaped me. Only you would put your stomach above personal safety, Gilum.

    Snickers echoed around the camp.

    You should have seen the look on your face! Phillip chortled. "Your eyes were this big!"

    The boy held his hands in front of his face, making exaggerated circles with his fingers. We laughed. Ben gripped his sides in a full laugh, and Chasing Rabbit’s teehee giggles made us laugh harder.

    Gilum’s head swiveled slowly as he looked around at us. I reached out and touched his sleeve with a shaking hand. I’m sorry, we shouldn’t laugh, but—

    Yer laughin’ at me? Gilum’s jaw snapped shut, eyes narrowing dangerously.

    My mirth died instantly, and I tightened my grip on his sleeve. Easy, Gilum. There’s no insult intended.

    Gilum burst away from me to snatch his battle axe from the ground. He swung at my head with a bellow. I threw myself flat, and his heavy axe whistled too close over my head. His axe changed direction and came screaming down to cleave me in two. I rolled out of the way, and the ground beneath me shuddered as the blade slammed into the dirt.

    I stood, looking around desperately while Gilum worked to free his battle axe.

    Ben and Chasing Rabbit stepped away from us. Phillip scrambled backward, panic etched on his pale face. Foss continued to sleep while Gor fumbled with his war hammer, which had become tangled in Chasing Rabbit’s pack strap.

    I silently cursed as Gilum swung at me again. A blunt weapon would have been handy, but my staff was out of reach. I had no choice but to draw my scimitar to protect myself.

    I grunted as my thinner blade swatted the battle axe aside. You don’t want to do this. Gilum. I’m your friend.

    The dwarf snarled with the savageness of a rabid animal. He either didn’t remember or didn’t care. I parried his attacks, hoping he’d run out of steam before my strength gave out.

    Enough!

    The fire exploded in a brilliant flash, and blue flames swallowed me. Foss finally woke from his nap.

    I silently thanked Windola for the fire-repellant hair comb, which kept me safe. Only partly armored, Gilum wasn’t so lucky. His hands, clothing, and hair ignited like a torch.

    I swiped my watering eyes and cried out in pain as Gilum’s axe clipped my arm. Rage bubbled through me, and I spun beyond his shorter reach. The tip of my blade flashed toward his unarmored areas as I danced around his wicked axe. If he wouldn’t listen to reason, I would make good on my warning.

    Gor had his hammer free, but was too late. I slashed Gilum’s hand, and his axe fell to the ground. I thought he’d finally cease attacking, but he launched at me.

    A fireball streaked from Foss’s hands. I shielded my eyes as the flaming ball impacted squarely on Gilum’s chest.

    Gilum’s shrieks filled the night. We watched helplessly as he ran in mindless circles. The ferocious blaze roiled off him, and his spiked armor made it impossible for anyone to approach.

    Grabbing hold of Tomar’s power, I reached out to Gilum. The flames died, and he dropped to the ground unconscious. A haze of blue smoke and the stench of burnt flesh filled the night air.

    Ben moved to Gilum’s side with something gripped in his hand. My mouth was dry, and my lips cracked from being baked. I couldn’t speak, but my scimitar point hovering at Ben’s neck made my intentions clear.

    He gave me a sideways glare and showed me the waterskin of holy water in his hand. I trust his rage has passed. It should be safe to heal him.

    I did not lower my scimitar as I fumbled for my waterskin. I sipped at it until I could croak out a few words.

    I gave Gilum a warning last time this happened. I will not tolerate this behavior. We can’t afford to be cut down by our allies. The next time, he might attack Phillip or Chasing Rabbit. I lowered my scimitar and straightened up. If he attacks anyone in this company, I will kill him for treason.

    Ben crossed his massive arms across his chest, pulling himself to full height. Who made you judge, jury, and executioner?

    I gazed at him coldly. By the authority granted to me as a Knight of His Majesty, King Leif Griffith the Third, I am commanded to protect this company from all foes. I turned slightly to Phillip. What does the Law say about this?

    Eyes wide with fright, Phillip quivered like a cornered rabbit. T-to s-strike out against a Knight of Besamie is to s-strike out against the king himself. His voice petered out. It’s treason.

    Foss nodded. "‘Where my knights walk, so do I.’ So it is written."

    So it is written, Gor echoed.

    I returned my glare to the arrogant human. Do you still challenge my authority?

    Ben shook his head and lowered his eyes.

    Good.

    I knelt and healed Gilum enough that he could hear but not enough for him to strike out. The sword-for-hire moaned as his eyes fluttered open. Gilum, can you understand my words?

    The dwarf nodded, tears leaking down his charred face.

    I know you were surprised by the fire, but you were warned. The next time you attack me or anyone under my care, I will kill you. Do you understand?

    I swallowed hard, hating that I had to say the words. Hating that I’d have to follow through if the situation arose.

    Gilum’s expression was undecipherable, but he nodded again.

    Ben stepped forward with the waterskin, but I healed Gilum as quickly as a thought. The dwarf’s charred skin healed under the layer of soot. Ben frowned in annoyance and helped Gilum to his feet.

    As he straightened, Gilum snatched Chasing Rabbit’s mace like a bard producing a dove and swung at my head with a bellow. For Mischa!

    Pure instinct kept me alive. I leaned backward nearly in half to avoid having the ground painted with my brains. When the mace passed, I snapped back with a sweep of my blade. Gilum’s head fell free of his body.

    Phillip gagged and doubled over to vomit. His eyes rolled back as he fainted, body hitting the ground at the same time as the Gilum’s.

    I stalked to the edge of the road, back to my companions, and stared blankly at the newly risen moon. It took a moment to heal my injuries, but the wound in my heart wouldn’t heal. I didn’t believe it. My mind reeled in disbelief and horror. He tried to kill me in the name of Mischa. I knew I had an enemy among the group, but Gilum?

    Some shepherd I am. My first combat as a knight, and I cut down a party member.

    A cold lump settled in my heart, but I refused to cry. I wiped my blade clean and resheathed it before returning to camp.

    Foss sat by the fire, flipping through his spell book, while Ben, Chasing Rabbit, and Gor collected Gilum’s remains in silence and carried them from the campsite. Using the small latrine shovel, they dug a grave on the side of the road.

    I stood over Phillip’s slumped form and shook him roughly with my foot. Wake up!

    His eyes fluttered open, and I hauled him to his feet by his collar. You’re an embarrassment to your family.

    His eyes rolled, and I let him drop, more disgusted with myself for taking out my grief and anger on a twelve-year-old boy than his justified reaction to seeing a companion beheaded. He moved to join the others, and I grabbed the back of his shirt with a growl. You stay here.

    We stood sentry to make sure we hadn’t drawn undesired attention. I wished Jack were with me. I wanted to bury my face in his warm fur until my fit of emotions passed.

    Phillip sat at my feet silently. Tears rolled down his face. Cry for both of us, child.

    Chapter 2

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    Ben and Chasing Rabbit were gone. Their trail led into the woods. They’d taken their mounts and packs. Nothing else. Ben was probably worried I’d kill him in his sleep for snoring out of order. Chasing Rabbit no doubt went with him to maintain his psionic connection.

    I cursed myself. I should have made Chasing Rabbit relinquish the bond. It was too dangerous to be tied so closely to madness, and now the halfling was out there, unprotected and alone with Ben.

    Gor inspected their tracks. I’ll get no sleep now.

    I nodded, struggling with rage, frustration, and grief.

    Foss joined us. Do we try to catch them?

    To what end?

    They’re prisoners, Phillip protested. It’s your duty as a knight—

    Do not presume to preach to me, I snapped. Phillip flushed. What would you have me do with them? Tie them up while we promenade across this thrice-cursed land? Or shall I behead them to save us the inconvenience of guarding them?

    Easy, Foss murmured, putting a hand on my arm. The boy meant no harm.

    I rubbed my face and released a shuddering sigh. This whole blasted land is a horrible nightmare. I have companions trying to kill me, criminals running loose, and a babe who can barely hold his staff upright without braining himself.

    Phillip cringed, and Foss patted my shoulder. You are the Healer. Trust your heart and follow where it leads you. We have faith that Tomar guides you, even in this wretched place. If you tell us to track them down, we’ll hunt them like a pack of hounds. If you want to head straight for Lord Vasheer’s keep to look for the stone, we’ll march straight there and kick in his front gate. If you decide to return to Gretstown and wait for a fog to return us home, we will do it.

    I huffed in frustration. "Onward to the keep. We don’t know how long before we stumble across the fog again. I-I don’t know why, but . . . I must find that stone. If we come across Ben and Chasing Rabbit, we’ll take them into custody and decide what to do with them then."

    You may have to kill them, Foss warned.

    I know, I growled. I’m the King’s Law. Even though we’re not in the king’s realm, we’re all his vassals.

    Okay, then let’s ride.

    Not yet.

    I took the time to put my armor on before leaving. The Drift promised more danger than I wanted to meet without it, and Laughing Bear’s warning was loud and clear in my mind.

    With Happy relatively unburdened and Gor on the cart horse, we made better time through the forest. We ate as we rode, finishing the last of the fruit from Laughing Bear’s orchard when something streaked across the road and disappeared into the forest on the other side. It moved so fast that none of us saw what it was.

    Phillip gurgled and grabbed his throat. Blood spurted between his fingers. I leaned over, stripping off a gauntlet, and healed him.

    You’re all right, I assured him, struggling to keep my voice calm as I tried to locate where the creature had gone.

    Ferean growled, tracking something in the trees. Happy brayed nervously. Foss and Gor readied their bows and scanned the trees around us.

    I dismounted. Get down. All the way.

    Phillip slithered to the ground and lay flat with his face pressed against the ground. Dirt caked to the blood on his hands, and he stared at it, quivering mouth open in a silent scream.

    The creature flashed across our path Again. Foss and Gor let fly with their arrows, but both missed. The creature was too fast. Scary fast. Blood sprayed from the carthorse as her head tore from her neck.

    Gor leaped free from the horse’s crushing weight as it crumpled to the ground. Feather and Terror snorted in anticipation. Happy brayed with fear, and Godswind bucked and made a panicked trill as if voicing the terror Phillip couldn’t.

    Ferean raced into the trees with a yelping howl.

    Foss maneuvered Terror away from Godswind. Calm the animals!

    I used my powers to send calming energy to Happy and Godswind and coaxed them to lie down so they’d be less of a target. Then, I repeated the process with Feather while Foss and Gor exchanged their bows for more solid weapons.

    Ferean snarled nearby.

    I left Phillip huddled among the animals and approached Terror. Foss, get down. You’re a target up there.

    I know. Foss scanned the trees grimly. You better catch it when it comes at me or reattach my head quickly.

    That’s not funny! Get d—

    The creature launched from the trees. I spun toward it, unleashing a holy bolt. The bolt hit and sent the beast off course with a shriek.

    Nicely don—

    Three more creatures attacked. Foss swept his sword up in time to keep his head attached, but the weight of the creature that connected knocked him off balance. Terror whinnied as Foss crashed to the ground, fighting for his life.

    One of the creatures feasted on the dead cart horse, and I could finally see them. They looked like giant spiders with wings. The smallest was the size of a large barn cat. The tips of their legs were razor sharp, and their multiple eyes glowed red in the afternoon sun.

    Gor intercepted the last creature with a grunt as it headed for Phillip and the mounts. I was torn with indecision. Tomar’s teeth! There were three of them and only one of me.

    Terror gave a shrill cry and kicked the creature off Foss. With one distracted by the dead horse and Foss aided by his fearless mount, I turned to Gor.

    The dwarf had pulverized two of the creature’s legs with his war hammer, but the thing barely slowed. The creature wrapped its undamaged legs around Gor and tried to pull him toward its circular mouth. The thing was nearly as big as he was, and the dwarf was losing the battle of strength.

    I pulled my scimitar and sliced the legs off its right side. Black ichor spurted everywhere as Gor swung his hammer at the off-balance monster. I ran past them to aid Foss, but the bard had things under control.

    A blue electrical bolt knocked his creature onto its back, where it lay in a twitching frenzy. While Foss scrambled to his feet, Terror landed on the jerking spider-thing with all four hooves with a squishy crunch. Good training.

    Only one of the spider-things still lived. The death cries of its companions pulled the creature’s attention away from the carthorse. It hissed and tensed its wings, fixing its glowing eyes on me. We leaped toward each other and met in a tangle of limbs. As fast as the creature was, my powers were faster. The spider-thing died in a blinding flash of holy light.

    I tossed the creature’s corpse aside and sheathed my scimitar. Let’s get out of here before the smell of blood brings more trouble.

    Phillip pulled Godswind up and mounted before I could reach him. Feather and Happy clambered to their feet, and I hoisted Gor atop the mule. Foss grabbed Gor’s pack off the dead horse and vaulted onto Terror’s back. As we raced away, Ferean bounded out of the trees with a spidery limb in his jaws and a pleased bounce in his step.

    Chapter 3

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    The log house huddled in a small clearing. Its windows were already shuddered as the sun touched the treetops. What kind of predators lurked in this area of the woods? Not wanting to spend the night outside, we decided to offer our services in exchange for shelter for the night.

    I knocked on the front door while Foss waited between me and the others, scanning.

    The door jerked open a thumb’s width, and a hostile eye glared at us through the narrow slit.

    I smiled as reassuringly as possible. Good evening. My name is Kharee Taraborn. My companions and I were hoping to seek shelter overnight in exchange for services we could provide.

    The door opened wide enough for us to see a woman in her late forties with a clawed hammer clenched in her fist. She looked us over with a frown. What can you do?

    I motioned to Foss. Foss is a bard.

    We don’t need pretty songs.

    Foss smiled. Perhaps you need something mended? I know a repair spell.

    What else?

    I glanced at Foss, and he shrugged. I’m a healer. If you have any livestock that need—

    The woman laughed harshly. Do you think we’re able to keep livestock in this place?

    I don’t know, I said, flustered and annoyed. Perhaps if you told us what you need, we can tell you if we can do it.

    A man shuffled into view behind her, and she glanced in his direction. Tell you what. If you can heal a crippled leg, we’ll let you spend the night.

    Done.

    The woman’s eyes flew wide momentarily before suspicion settled across her face. She moved aside long enough to let the man hobble into the open, and I knelt to inspect the leg he favored.

    A tree fell on it two years ago, he explained. Crushed the leg. Not so bad it needed to be amputated, but it didn’t heal right.

    I placed my hands on his leg and opened to Tomar’s power. In my mind’s eye, I could see where the bones had broken and healed wrong. This may hurt a bit. I apologize.

    The man gasped as I began my work. He groaned in pain as the bones moved into proper position. By the time I finished, the man was soaked in sweat. Both Foss and Phillip held him upright.

    He took a tentative step and laughed. The leg was healed.

    The woman burst into tears and wrapped him in a hug. Thank you! Thank you for healing my husband! Come inside. Karl and I was just about to sit for supper.

    The woman, Martha, served us a hearty rabbit stew seasoned with wild herbs and tubers. Then, she put Foss to work mending every pot, pan, and utensil she had while Gor and Phillip went to chop wood to replace the dwindling pile next to the back door.

    Despite Martha’s protest that they couldn’t keep livestock, the couple had a few hens and breeding rabbits in a shed at the back of the house. According to Martha, some sickness killed the rabbits nearly as fast as they could breed. It took me less than a glass-turn to cleanse all the animals of the sickness. For good measure, I took a few moments to ensure the hens were healthy and would continue to lay eggs.

    With the job completed, I collected three pebbles from the ground and returned to the house. I paused long enough to pat Phillip on the shoulder. Good job.

    He beamed at me and doubled his efforts to split wood.

    Noises from the kitchen sounded like Martha and Karl were busy organizing their newly mended belongings. Foss sat by the hearth, nose in his spell book and a pile of repaired pots at his feet. I plunked down next to him and made a pitiful attempt to juggle the pebbles. I hoped to distract him and make him laugh. Then, he would call me a silly girl and take the pebbles from me to juggle properly.

    Foss looked up as a pebble bounced off the top of my head and skittered across the room. I held my breath in anticipation, but he didn’t even have the decency to crack a smile. His eyes were the dark color of a bloated storm cloud.

    Foss lifted a hand and blew a tiny pile of sand into my face. I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath. The sand pelted across my skin, and I opened my eyes again.

    Foss peered intently at me. How do you feel?

    Annoyed.I brushed the sand off my shirt and stifled a yawn. Foss swore quietly and swept the sand into a tiny leather pouch with a swirly blue wind.

    My suspicion was piqued. Why do you ask?

    I am trying to figure out this sleep sand.

    On me?

    It’s a harmless spell. Foss avoided my gaze as he tied the pouch.

    You could have warned me. I fought back another yawn as he turned to dig in his pack.

    If I warn you, you’d resist the spell . . . even more.

    Well, nobody wants sand in their—

    Foss turned to me, and my mouth went dry. He held an elegant yet distinctly familiar silver ring between his forefinger and thumb — a ring I never thought I’d see again. I didn’t need to see the inscription. I knew the words by heart. To My Betrothed.

    W-where did you get this? My hand trembled as I reached out to touch Lord Erik’s engagement ring.

    Binkley.

    Understanding crashed into me. Windola’s weathered face rose in my mind’s eye, and her voice echoed in my head.

    "Such a heavy, unwelcome burden for one struggling so hard for freedom . . . You have heavier burdens to bear. We don’t want you to stumble because of this. You’ll have it back later."

    I often wondered what she meant by those words. I also understood why Jack wanted to return to Windola’s shop when I told him to find Foss! Poor, confused Jack. Foss had been the other customer Windola expected.

    What else had the woman said to me? No tears now, dear. You will need them later.

    How right she’d been.

    Chapter 4

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    Foss dropped his gaze as a flush crept slowly up his neck into his face. He touched a fingertip to the inscription. The word Betrothed faded away to be replaced with something else. When the transformation finished, the inscription read, To My Beloved.

    I . . . Some days, Kharee . . . I waited for him to find the words he needed. Your smile melts my weak bardic heart. My will turns to mush when I see you hide the pain I know is in you. Your spirit has awakened a hunger in me which gnaws at me, but . . .

    Foss took a deep breath and lifted his head to pin me with his gaze. I knew whatever he was about to say would hurt. I held my tongue, determined to hear him out.

    You are the Healer, bound to the king by your knighthood and to the world with your birthright. You are no man’s to claim so long as you are the Healer, and you’ve become so hard — so stiff since we arrived in this dark land. One day, you’ll be more powerful than any mortal has ever been or will ever be. I know there’s the heart of a goddess in you. I saw it once but was too afraid to touch it.

    Foss slid to his knees and gripped my hands between his own. His passionate grip crushed my fingers, but my heart hurt more. His eyes clouded with mixed emotions I didn’t understand.

    Kharee. As he whispered my name, another shard of pain lanced my heart. Damn it, woman. It hurts, but I love you so much. I want to be the one to harness your ambition. I want to be a permanent part of your life.

    There. My words came home to me a second time. The raw emotion in his voice moved me to tears. He loves me. He thinks I’m a cold-hearted wretch, but he loves me.

    Please, Foss pressed the ring into my hand, marry me.

    I closed my eyes, head reeling and stomach quivering. I felt like a passing spirit, seeing the event but not part of it. I knew it was from the shock of his words and fought against it, not wanting Foss to see a cold and vacant glaze in my eyes when I spoke.

    I can’t marry you—

    Foss buried his face in my lap with a sob.

    I put my hand on the back of his head. My voice was hoarse as I tried to speak around the lump in my throat. Listen to me, you silly man. I can’t marry you until you hear the things in my head.

    Foss nodded but didn’t stop soaking my pant leg with hot tears.

    I’ll tell you why I seem as warm as the blade you gave me, and you can decide if you still want me.

    He nodded again, wiping his face on his sleeve.

    "You grew up in Jalar, so I don’t expect you to understand. You grew up with all manner of marvels around you every day. When I met you in Felton, you’d been to places and done things I couldn’t imagine. I felt ignorant. The farthest I’d been from home was to visit Nana Tara. I never experienced anything as wonderful as the things you take for granted.

    You took me to strange places and let me see wondrous things. The things which are common to you exhilarate me. I must see, touch, and know everything. I need to learn so I never forget what goodness the world holds. I want to remember it all, good or bad. I want to see the joy in every moment and gain something new even when I experience the same things again and again.

    Astonishment bloomed in his watery eyes.

    Ye gods, Foss. There are other people like I was who’ve never seen beyond their backyard. If I remember what I experience, then maybe I can share a piece of that wonder with them.

    I paused to swallow, letting my hands slide behind his warm neck before continuing. Inside me, I am tiny and weak. The walls around my heart are strong, as your arms are, but what they protect is as fragile as your delicate pride. And, Ever-Perceptive One, you forget I’m merely a half-breed. I have to fight for respect and cling to the tiny shred of dignity I’ve claimed. It’s not an easy chore.

    Foss blushed, and I released him.

    Yes, I’m hard. Especially in this place. Otherwise, any man will feel obliged to pat my bottom or caress my breast because it is there, despite my knighthood. Lord Erik’s colorless face came to mind, and I crossed my arms protectively around myself. You’ll never know the horror and shame of being pinned down while someone pulls your skirt up to make a man of himself.

    Foss’s hands clenched into fists.

    I fear it every day of my life. Sometimes, I get so scared I can hear my heart bash against my ribs. But fear is a weakness. If I’m weak, I’m dead or worse, so I hide it away. I make it something else. I let myself turn to stone. I don’t know if you can understand.

    Foss nodded, regret plain in his eyes.

    Now we’re here, I don’t know how to cope. It’s one thing to explore the wonders of our world, but this place . . . I am so frightened in this nightmare land, but I can’t let it take hold of me! I am a knight of Besamie now but still a shepherd. The sheep are different, but the rules are the same. If your sheep are thirsty, you lead them to water. If your sheep are tired, you watch over them when they rest. If a wolf attacks in the night, you destroy it, even lay down your life for them. To keep your life, you must be better than the wolf. You must be the best. To be the best, you can’t let your fears rule you. Otherwise, the shepherd loses her life, and the wolf gets fat.

    I cupped my hands around his beautiful face. I hope your love also includes understanding. Do you still wish to harness me?

    The silence shifted with the crackling fire. I didn’t dare breathe, and my mind couldn’t form a prayer. Foss took the ring from me, and I trembled. He took my hand in his and looked me in the eyes.

    Woman, he whispered with a husky voice, if you refuse me again, I’ll die of a broken heart.

    With those words, Foss slid the ring onto my finger. I broke into ragged sobs and threw my arms around his neck. His arms came around my body, and he crushed me against his hard chest until I thought my ribs would crack.

    I have always loved you, he whispered into my hair, and nothing will ever make me stop.

    I sobbed uncontrollably as my heart ached from joy. Briefly, I wondered if Windola had known this, too.

    Karl opened a bottle of wine he kept for a special occasion in honor of our engagement. Gor beamed, shaking Foss’s hand and hugging me. Phillip made up for the dwarf’s lack of words by babbling in unadulterated glee. I suspect the wine may have had something to do with the loosening of his tongue. The squire toasted us with enough pomp to make his royal cousin proud.

    Martha and Karl gave us beautiful matching rabbit-skin mittens as an engagement gift. Despite the warming weather, I was grateful and thanked them profusely.

    Foss piped a merry song on his flute while Martha and Karl danced for the first time in many years. Then, Karl surprised us by pulling out an old fiddle and playing a few reels. Foss humored me with a couple of dances before his bardish instincts took over, and he began swapping tunes with Karl. They were at it well into the night.

    The next morning, Martha and Karl told us everything they knew of the self-proclaimed lord on the other side of the Forbidding Forest. None of it was pleasant. If even a sliver of what they said was true, Vasheer was a dangerous man to seek out. We’d have to be on our guard.

    We left with our stomachs full and packs heavier from the couple’s generosity. Foss whistled a jaunty tune as we rode, and I was happy for the first time in an eternity.

    Chapter 5

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    We followed the road over rocky terrain for two days after leaving the forest. The road grew rougher, and we climbed increasingly higher hills. Scraggly trees clung to the hard, bare earth with grasping roots. The white sands hadn’t spread to these hauntingly pleasant hills. Pale wildflowers dotted the struggling grass, and berry patches clung tenaciously to the base of the trees.

    Our trail brought us into a canyon with a river raging through it. A stone bridge with waist-high railings arched over the tumultuous water and led to the shadowed door of the two-story building pressed against the cliff face like a frightened child. The inn had small shuttered windows on the second floor and no windows on the ground floor. The small stone stable on the far side looked solid enough to withstand a siege. The faded sign above the door aptly identified the place as Darken Inn.

    The fine hair along my spine stood on end in silent warning, but it was the first sign of civilization since Martha and Karl’s cottage. We needed directions and restocking, so I pretended the cool air of the shaded canyon caused my shivering, not the icy hand of warning.

    Leaving Phillip and Gor to stable the animals, Foss and I entered Darken Inn. Without windows to let in light or fresh air, the inn’s dingy common room reeked of unwashed bodies.

    I switched to night vision and looked around. I had spotted a surprisingly healthy nanny tethered to the stable, and my taste buds yearned for something besides water.

    Antiquated weaponry decorated the grungy walls behind four long-toothed, hairy-knuckled men who sat at a scarred table. Even though it was nearly day’s end, they had tousled hair as if they’d just woken up. All four had the same dark hair and ruddy complexion, indicating a kin-relation. Their frayed clothes were the wrong size, as though they’d swapped clothing in jest.

    A fluffy-haired doxy lounged on the lap of the largest man, twirling a garishly red ringlet around her bony finger. Her dirty blouse barely closed over her bosom, and the tattered hem of her skirt rode high enough to show her thigh. She was the first to see us and nudged her seatmate in the ribs.

    Look, Dell! Customers! Her hungry tone and wolfish were disquieting. Are you alone?

    Hardly, I snorted, fighting the urge to pull my scimitar.

    We’d like to rent rooms for the night, Foss said. Who is the innkeeper?

    I am, replied Dell. His shaggy hair covered most of his low brow. He resembled one of those longhaired dogs that constantly needed trimming and grooming. His long jaw enhanced the illusion.

    A movement at the woman’s waist drew my eyes to Dell’s large hands as he absently stroked her stomach. His fingernails were dirt-encrusted, and I recalled how Lord Erik had inspected my nails during our first meeting. Had I looked so grimy to the elf?

    Foss stared at the innkeeper until Dell lifted the woman from his lap and dumped her on her feet. See to the lady while we talk business.

    The woman watched Dell lead Foss to the other end of the room and turned to me with a mean pout.

    I smiled stiffly. I’d like a cup of milk, please.

    I got something you can milk, one of the men from Dell’s table called.

    I had no idea what he was talking about, but the tone was clearly lewd. I leveled a stony glare at him. Do you know how stupid you sound?

    The man stood with a growl and balled fists. You need to be taught some manners, wench.

    His voice carried across the room, and all eyes turned to us. The woman leaned against a table and crossed her arms with a smirk.

    I wasn’t in the mood for tough guy attitudes. And I really wanted that drink. Touch me, and you’ll be peeling your manhood off the roof of your mouth.

    He evaluated me with a well-practiced sneer, then reached for my throat with lightning-fast speed. My elven reflexes kicked in. I dropped to one knee and punched upward. As Gilford taught me, I aimed for an inch beyond the point I hit. I hadn’t exaggerated when I said the roof of his mouth. Even though I hit his groin, my fist kept going until it couldn’t go anymore.

    Silence. No groan, squeak, or whimper followed my hit. The man’s face went gray, and his eyes rolled. He teetered, then fell flat on his back. I might have killed him, but I didn’t care to check.

    I stood and spoke to the woman through clenched teeth. I’d like. A cup. Of milk.

    Her smirk vanished, and her left eye twitched. She gave a hasty bob that nearly jolted her precariously covered bosoms from her blouse and bolted for the kitchen.

    Much better. First the milk, then a hot bath.

    The innkeeper turned back to Foss, and they continued their discussion.

    Chapter 6

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    T hey’ve arrived, Chasing Rabbit whispered.

    Good, Ben chuckled from his dark corner of the room. Very good.

    They listened as the innkeeper showed the rag-tag band to their rooms and waited patiently for the sound of the Lady Knight heading for her bath. Such a ritualistic behavior. It was kind of her to be so reliable.

    Prepare, he instructed, sliding from the room. He moved silently through the corridor, listening at each door until his sensitive ears found the sound of pages turning. Everyone’s little rituals are catching up with them. Ben grinned in anticipation as he knocked quietly on the door.

    The bard opened his door and jerked back in surprise.

    Just who I was looking for, Ben purred as he pushed into the room. I need to speak with you.

    Foss bristled. There’s nothing you have to say that I wish to hear, Corrupter.

    Ben stiffened. Then, he relaxed. He was in control here, not that half-breed. A smirk returned to his face. "I think there is. You’ll want to listen carefully because it’s about your most beloved. Only you can save her. With my help, of course. She is so stubborn. Won’t listen to me, but you . . . She trusts you. She’ll listen to you, and you must make her listen."

    He placed a hand on Foss’s shoulder, weaving his dark spell. Empowered by the madness, there was nothing Ben couldn’t do.

    Chapter 7

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    Isank into the bath with a sigh. It was hard to believe that I once loathed bathing. Now, I could hardly wait for the sight of an inn so I could scrub the filth from my body. Perhaps it was because I often wanted to cleanse it from my heart and soul as well.

    The door opened with a protesting creak, and Foss entered. I squawked and tried to hide from his eyes, splashing him with water.

    Foss! I’m naked, for mercy’s sake!

    Foss neither blinked nor flinched as water hit his face. Ben must speak to you.

    My voice died in my throat, and I shrank further into the tub as my betrothed turned his gaze on me. His eyes were vacant, and the memory of a nightmare flooded back to me. A horrid dream in which my father wore that blank expression and spoke with the same flat voice. A dream and nothing more . . .

    This is not a dream.

    I groped for the towel to hide behind but couldn’t reach it. The closest thing to hand was my smelly camel skin cloak, and I quickly wrapped myself in it as though it would protect me. I want nothing to do with Ben.

    Foss’s gaze never wavered, making my flesh crawl. He has something important to say to everyone. You must come.

    No, I do not, Foss. He’s dangerous. We went our separate ways so we wouldn’t kill each other, and that’s how I’d like it to stay, thank you. I noticed Foss was wearing his pink belt under his cloak. I was afraid of the bard for the first time since we had met.

    Foss advanced on me. You must listen to Ben.

    I backed away and stumbled over my discarded clothing. Foss, stop it!

    His arms snaked around me quickly enough to startle the most nimble elf. My arms tangled in the cloak so that I couldn’t defend myself, and Foss hoisted me onto his shoulder.

    Stop! Put me down, curse you!

    I kicked and struggled but was no match for the strength given to him by the magical belt. Despite the ominous chill shimmying up my spine, I hesitated to call my powers or

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