The Lost Heir's Redemption: The Inheritance Ring Series, #2

By Chris Gourley

What she believed is no longer true.

Alisutton, who was called Button growing up, rescued her brother from torment and death… now he wants her dead. Can she bring peace back to the green world that was her home? Can she change the past without killing her brother and becoming like him? The evil that twisted her brother is not the only threat. There are underlying currents wanting to use her and force her to their will.

In her struggle to set wrongs right, she will be fighting for her life and that of her friends. Button doubts but she does not hesitate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Gourley
• Release date: Apr 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224448739

Chris Gourley

Chris Gourley is an artist, playwright, mother, and dreamer steeped in the oral storytelling traditions of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Although she currently resides in Wilmington, Delaware, the world created in her mind is forever pulling her down other enticing pathways. She is living proof of the old adage from J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings: "Not all who wander are lost."

Book preview

The Lost Heir's Redemption

Book Two of The Inheritance Ring Series

Chris Gourley

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Two Rabbits Press

Copyright © 2022 by Chris Gourley All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Cover design by BoBooks

DEDICATION

My Beth and I were out enjoying a bright sunny day visiting eclectic shops in Bellefonte just north of Wilmington proper. On our way there, we met a friend of Beth’s... Damon, who joined us for lunch. He and Beth were laughing and talking as I sat back and listened. But my real focus was on Damon. A man bigger than life, comfortable within his own skin, and such kindness and humor emanating from him. I knew I had met G’lid.

Damon Betz 1972-2021

Damon Betz 1972-2021

His obituary says it all: Pirate. Poet. Athlete. Entrepreneur. Musician. Lover. Son. Brother. Beloved. Friend to all... his sudden loss has set his whole community adrift.

The Lost Heir (2021 BookFest Awards Winner)

(Book One of The Inheritance Ring Series) 2021

She is The Lost Heir , last of her line... but the secret she carries with her won’t put her on the throne.

Standing atop a promontory, she sees them coming... interlopers in the desert, clumsy outsiders whose caravan blazes a trail of dust. Alisutton d’ere Lihter, who her brothers once called Button, was abandoned in this wasteland, years ago. Is it those who betrayed her, returning? And if so... why?

The answer will bring a girl the world thought dead back across the desert, home to a place she barely remembers. The secrets she carries won’t put her on the throne. Instead, it prompts a race across the land, a daring rescue, and brings to light yet more mysteries. Who is hunting her along the way? Can she trust what’s left of her family or the strangers who have taken her into their fold... or only herself?

With her bow and her spear, her heart and her wits, and an indomitable will to survive, Button will find the answers. But she will also learn, like the wind in the desert, what we learn can change us. For good or ill, she will never be the same.

* * * * *

"The Lost Heir… a brilliant epic fantasy that will sweep you away, have you hanging on every development of every character, caught off-guard by the unpredictable twists. I cannot wait for book two… I highly recommend book one to any lover of true Epic Fantasy/LitRPG novels." Katherine D. Graham, Reedsy 5 Stars

The Lost Heir's Redemption (Great Britain 2023 Wishing Shelf Book Awards Finalist)

(Book Two of The Inheritance Ring Series) 2022

What she believed is no longer true.

Alisutton, who was called Button growing up, rescued her brother from torment and death… now he wants her dead. Can she bring peace back to the green world that was her home? Can she change the past without killing her brother and becoming like him? The evil that twisted her brother is not the only threat. There are underlying currents wanting to use her and force her to their will.

In her struggle to set wrongs right, she will be fighting for her life and that of her friends. Button doubts but she does not hesitate.

* * * * *

"Following a successful opening book in a series is a challenging prospect, but here we have a masterclass in how to do it as every box is ticked… spinning an exciting tale. The author's prose sublimely moves the story along, at an exciting pace. The Lost Heir's Redemption is a must read for readers seeking their next epic fantasy series." K.C. Finn, Readers' Favorite 5 Stars

* * * * *

The Lost Heir's Promise

(Book Three in The Inheritance Ring Series) 2024

She is the searcher, her daughter is the promise.

A long-awaited promise emerges in the form of a daughter, destined to fulfill an ancient prophecy. Hidden away until her fifteenth year, she is thrust into a reluctant journey, leaving behind her adoptive family to follow a mysterious woman she neither knows nor wants to know. Amids the echoes of resentment, the daughter learns the art of the desert ca'leethi, the intricacies of the sword, and the subtleties of the knife from her enigmatic guide.

This is an epic adventure rich with belief, hope, and trust… a narrative that unfolds against the backdrop of a world teetering on the brink of annihilation. They stand at the crossroads defying the Darkness. Will the strength of their belief be enough?

* * * * *

Author Chris Gourley's vivid descriptions paint a compelling picture of a desert world teetering on the edge of collapse, offering readers an immersive experience filled with rich storytelling and intricate world-building. The characters' individual and collective journeys unfold with a keen sense of emotional resonance. I was really impressed with the close, personal narration style that gave us an intimate insight into their thoughts and feelings at crucial moments. The themes of belief, hope, and trust resonate throughout the narrative, driving the characters forward as they confront the challenges ahead and keeping the suspense in the quieter moments of the plot before the next twist takes us by surprise. The exploration of destiny and the interconnectedness of the many lives that are explored give the work a sophisticated complexity rarely found in YA fiction, yet one that is easy to access for the target age range. Overall, THE LOST HEIR'S PROMISE delivers an epic adventure that will certainly thrill fans of the series so far. 5-Star Review by K.C. Finn, Readers' Favorite

The Lost Heir's Promise is a stimulating action fantasy, set in a magnificent world of its own making. If you like novels depicting desert cultures, unique norms, diverse languages, and different customs, then this novel will keep you spellbound and mesmerized throughout your reading journey. I didn't have the opportunity to read book one and two within this fantastic series. But based on the outstanding writing present in book three, I believe those novels are worth the read as well… I give this incredible fantasy novel 5-stars. It is an obvious must-read for other fantasy lovers. The ending is exciting and suspenseful. I sense a book four in the making (hopefully)! 5-Star Review by Uma Kiran, eBook Fairs

Contents

Prologue

1.A Voice in the Dark

2.Little I'ben

3.h'lasta

4.Return

5.Sacrifice!

6.Someone Waiting...

7.Amica Feral

8.The Drunken Duck

9.The Ruse

10.Beloved

11.Seed Woman

12.Wait for me...

13.You can't save everyone

14.Hornet's Nest

15.Sit!

16.The Maiden in the Tower

17.Turnip

18.Ruminations

19.The Catalyst

20.Alsaine

21.Too Many!

22.Just a Scratch

23.What you don't know

24.The Queen & the Bishop

25.Nooooo...

26.The List Grows

The Book of Foley

Lexicon

27.Acknowledgments

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D ear Reader...

Please note the names of the people native to the desert are ALL intentionally lowercase, even when the name begins a sentence or a new paragraph. This is not a mistake, but one I chose. It goes along with their belief that only the Whisperer and those images larger than themselves should be capitalized.

Another choice I made are the words alehouse and alekeeper… the english language is littered with joined words, i.e. barkeep, housekeeper, lighthouse to name a few. In this world, alehouse and alekeeper just needed to go together.

There is a LEXICON in the back for reference.

Enjoy!

Chris Gourley

Prologue

WHERE WILL YOU GO?" asked Pellus standing at the cellar door in the Heir Residence.

Button hesitated on the second step, Where I know the rules. She turned and disappeared into the darkness of the cellar.

Pellus stood at the door feeling helpless calling out to the figure he could no longer see, Be safe Benat Alisutton. Be safe.

From the darkness, Button called out, Pellus, the steps are rigged.

Pellus worried about his Benãt’s uncertain future. Could I have done more? he asked himself. Suddenly, Pellus felt the bulge of the book inside his jacket pocket. Quickly opening the door again, he called out, Wait... oh please, please wait, your mother’s book. Before he could take the first step, Pellus felt the ground shake as the tunnel fell in sending a cloud of dirt and debris billowing up the stairs. Closing the door, he slid down in a heap and wept, My one trust and I couldn’t even get that right.

The Residence’s door slammed open and hurried footsteps were being directed to different rooms but Pellus did not care. When he looked up, there was the Berat Chlor Malin standing over him demanding, Where is Button?

Gone. That was all Pellus could say as he hugged the book to his chest.

When Button emerged from the tunnel, she was coated with dust. She unwrapped her nose and mouth taking in gulps of clean morning air. Collapsing the underground tunnel had been a spur of the moment thought, and it had worked just like D’vid had said. Only a little too well, as she had raced through the tunnel barely escaping the collapsing walls.

Knocking a thick layer of dust from her clothes and hair, she walked away from the Fortress. Button began to work out the many false leads she would put in place before she could disappear completely.

But first, Timmus.

Chapter one

A Voice in the Dark

SHHHH... IT’S D’VID," A voice he had not heard in months.

He had awakened, sensing he wasn’t alone. Lying still in his bed, the Berat Chlor Malin d’ere Lihter had let his eyes move slowly around the dark, shadow-filled room. Still seeing and hearing nothing, his hand had slid slowly up and under the pillow for his knife.

The hand over his mouth and the feel of a knife blade at his throat were there to stop him from calling out. Can I let you go? D’vid asked softly next to his ear. The Berat Chlor nodded his head.

A taper was lit, throwing a small pool of light on the bed and the man lounging back into a chair. D’vid had grown a beard, and he no longer wore the familiar dark clothing marked by red ribbons. His dark hair was longer and tied back, and his eyes were alert but cautious and strained. I gather you wanted to see us?

Us? From the balcony, the Berat Chlor saw the form of a woman move. H’nor, he thought, and a grunt by the door made him jump ...G’lid. Laughing at his own discomfort, I really must be getting old.

Or we’re just that good. G’lid came and sat down on the bottom of the bed.

I sent that message out six months ago, the Berat Chlor said.

It has taken almost two months for us to get here. Tension was in D’vid’s voice, Has something happened? Is she... he paused, Have you heard anything? He leaned forward anxiously into the light.

No, I have heard nothing. I was hoping that you might have... and the Berat Chlor let the sentence trail off into a deep sigh. But that is not why I called you here. He felt the bed shift again as H’nor sat across from G’lid. You’ve been traveling hard, let me call for food, he offered.

They all three stood as one. D’vid sliced the bell pull and let the rope fall onto the bed.

You do not trust me. There was sadness in the Berat Chlor’s voice.

We are here, aren’t we? G’lid’s voice rumbled.

Forgive me... the Berat Chlor shook his head, these months of searching have been the most difficult of my life. Looking at each of them in turn, he felt their quiet resolve. Ahhhh, he thought, to have friends like that. How had she accomplished so much in such a short amount of time?

D’vid sat back down. We don’t have much time.

Of course, may I go to my study? The Berat Chlor pointed to the doors opposite his bed.

H’nor answered D’vid’s look, The room is clear, and the door to the hallway blocked. The knife in the top drawer will be returned when we leave.

Taking the taper with him, the Berat Chlor lit several candles on his desk. Seeing their concern, Don’t be alarmed, my servants are used to seeing me at my desk at all hours. I will not be disturbed.

H’nor closed the door to the bedroom, placed a chair in front of it and sat down. G’lid leaned against the chest that had been moved in front of the hall door.

Smile and trust no one, the Berat Chlor thought, haven’t I been doing the same thing for far too long? He took the chain from around his neck, using the key to... the desk drawer was already open! Looking across the room at H’nor, she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. It’s what I do.

Stifling momentary anger, the Berat Chlor asked quietly, Is there anything else?

That would be bragging, H’nor smiled.

Then please do, the Berat Chlor smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

Looking to D’vid and G’lid, whose very stillness left it to her judgment, H’nor looked around the room. There is the safe behind the lady’s portrait which looks like Button but isn’t, the panel on the far wall where several journals are hidden, all in code, and the loose floorboard under the small table in the corner.

D’vid had never taken his eyes from the Berat Chlor’s face and watched the effort it took him to keep the smile. Secrets, he thought, and wished he had time to decipher the journals.

Is there anything else? the Berat Chlor asked as he sat down at his desk.

I didn’t have much time. There could be more, but I doubt it, H’nor finished, as she stretched and crossed her legs.

G’lid’s voice came from the darkness by the door, You’re thinking about changing your hidey holes? This time the Berat Chlor did smile because that was exactly what he’d been thinking. Won’t do you any good. H’nor would just ferret them out again.

Shaking his head, the Berat Chlor sat down at his desk and pulled out a book wrapped in leather. Laying it on his desk, his hand moved slowly over the leather and pulled back the folded edges, revealing a worn and faded journal.

Button’s desert journal? D’vid said, his eyes full of hope.

Looking at each of them in turn, No, not Button’s, but similar. I believe this holds the answer to where she has gone.

We’ve always known where she was going, G’lid said, shifting his position by the chest. "It’s the needle we’d be looking for, and that’s the problem."

The Berat Chlor relaxed back in his chair. "What if it holds a map?

How can you be sure? D’vid asked.

I’m not, the Berat Chlor said, looking pointedly at D’vid. Over the last year, I’ve eliminated many of the intricate trails Button laid down. Too many. Pausing, he looked at each one of them in turn. Then I realized she was being helped.

Neither by a blink or muscle movement did any of the three agree or disagree. Laughing wearily, Oh be damned, keep your secrets. I would, if I were you. Reaching behind him, the Berat Chlor pulled open a cabinet and took out four glasses and a bottle of wine, pouring for each of them.

No one moved. Did you know, when Button returned from the desert, she did not trust me? Taking a glass, the Berat Chlor downed the wine and poured another. D’vid rose and took one to G’lid and H’nor and returned to his chair, leaving his glass untouched.

Studying the glass in his hand, the Berat Chlor’s voice hardened, This has to end. Putting his glass down firmly, the wine sloshed from side-to-side. "Ruric has... is more crazed by the day. He walks the hallways talking to no one, and sees enemies at every turn. He pulled out a letter and opened it, pushing it across the desk to D’vid. You will note the seal is from the Berat Qoram, Button’s grandfather. He has ordered me to do whatever I deem necessary to right things here."

D’vid read the letter and put it back on the desk. And what do you... or will you deem necessary? D’vid asked.

In all the history of the Fortress, there have only been two or three people, at any given time, imprisoned in the cells below, the Berat Chlor stated, But today, right now, the cells are full to overflowing, and Ruric has started executions.

So why have you not done anything to stop him? D’vid asked, as G’lid grumped his agreement.

This, holding the letter up in his hand, has come too late. The Berat Chlor leaned in toward his desk, and put the edge of the letter over the candle flame. Once it had caught fire, he dropped it in a glass bowl that held the ashes of other missives.

Noting D’vid’s questioning look, the Berat Chlor smiled ruefully, I am, at the moment, not one of Ruric’s guests in the cells below but my activities have been limited, ‘for my own protection’ is the way Ruric put it. Tugging at his mustache, he sighed, So you can now understand why I am glad to see you.

Do you want us to get you out of here? G’lid asked, We can, you know.

I have no doubt, he smiled at the offer, but I am not without resources. Like you, I do not share everything I know.

The time... D’vid reminded the Berat Chlor.

Yes, quite right. Time.

You said there’s a map? D’vid asked.

Yes, pinholes. I didn’t recognize it for what it was, but... the Berat Chlor paused, then cleared his throat, but young f’lor Destwin, Foley, told me.

Stars, came H’nor’s quiet voice.

Yes, stars. The key to its working is knowing where it starts, the Berat Chlor continued, For that, we can thank Foley again. He pushed over another map of the river marking the bandit hole with no name.

So we go there? G’lid said, coming to stand beside D’vid.

We need to be there at the same time of year Button and Foley came out of the desert, D’vid said, or it’s useless.

Exactly, the Berat Chlor agreed. By my calculations, you have two weeks to that point on the river. He pushed over a heavy leather pouch. Bring her home, please.

H’nor laid the Berat Chlor’s knife on the desk and went to wait with G’lid by the balcony. D’vid hesitated, looking at the pouch.

This is not a bribe... or payment. I recognize your faithfulness to my Great Niece. Please recognize mine as well.

D’vid held the Berat Chlor’s gaze, nodded, and picked up the pouch and the journal. Quietly, D’vid followed G’lid and H’nor over the balcony.

The Berat Chlor leaned forward and blew out the candles. Sitting in the dark, he thought about Button and Ruric. Sighing, he knew Ruric had gone beyond saving, nor would he try. Once Button was home, it would be just a matter of time.

He heard the quiet swoosh of the secret door as it opened behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck raised in response. It was an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling to not know if he could trust the man standing behind him.

You heard? the Berat Chlor finally asked.

I did, an emotionless voice responded.

Will they succeed? the Berat Chlor asked.

His only answer was the sound of the secret passage closing.

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They had not stopped to camp until they were well north of the Fortress. H’nor had sold her horse to a group of traveling players on the road to the Capitol. Then two days later, D’vid let his horse be stolen by three youngsters out on a lark. G’lid’s horse was more a workhorse so he left it at the first farm where the animals in the field were well cared for. Then they turned east and finally south, knowing that the marks they had carefully filed into their mounts’ horseshoes would lead anyone tracking them astray.

All these false trails took time. They had scouted several barge landings along the river and found two with people waiting who just didn’t belong. They were wearing the right clothes, but they did not have the slight stoop of a man who has spent his life with his back to the sun planting and pulling weeds and harvesting. Three landings down, G’lid came back grinning. Now it was just a matter of waiting to catch a barge going south.

There were two kinds of barges on the river. The larger and more profitable plied their trade between cities, while the others stayed close to the shore, stopping at isolated farming communities that barely had a wharf large enough for a skiff, let alone a barge to tie up. Barges going south would not return anytime soon, and news would be old and worthless by the time it did.

The next morning, D’vid, G’lid and H’nor made their way with people gathering to meet the barge. The evening before, the bargemen, as all the bargemen had before them, added a glob of tar to the signal pot. The blackened smoke signaled the people downriver that they were coming.

Once on the river and heading south, D’vid looked at H’nor, holding out his hand. Give it over. H’nor tried to look innocent but all D’vid did was wait. We all know that you can’t help... and here D’vid had to pause, borrowing.

I am too damn predictable, H’nor complained as she pulled out two slim volumes from her pack.

Giving her a quick hug in passing, G’lid laughed, And I’m so glad you are. Besides, I doubt the Berat Chlor will even know they are gone.

Why these two? asked D’vid as he examined the two books.

Shrugging, H’nor said, almost apologetically, I honestly don’t know.

That’s not like you, G’lid said.

She looked up at him, "I know, but once