By Connie Suttle
"Tsk, tsk," Erland muttered, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "Perhaps Lissa may still bring up the subject of Diplomatic Immunity on the Conclave."
"That, my buddy, will be inadvisable. She is new and lots of could be ready, as vultures do while an ox is dying."
"I understand. from time to time, i believe the necessity to disguise myself in oil, simply to slip during the tripe and rubbish of Wylend's courtroom. Lissa must deal with instances that after she is going to Conclave."
"I worry that no volume of diplomatic oil will hold her from the surprise that's coming. she is going to be snubbed and mistreated via many, I worry. not just simply because she is a brand new monarch, yet simply because there's a rate on her head. such a lot can be putting as a lot distance among that and themselves as they could get. it really is by no means clever to befriend person who is marked through the Assassin's Guild. that's frequently a dying ready to happen."
Death has come to Le-Ath Veronis. A would-be murderer, aiming at Lissa, kills somebody as regards to her as a substitute. a cost has been put on Lissa's head by way of Black Mist, an assassin's guild who've been paid via a reassembled sunlight purple. Throw in a spin-off faith, betrayal, a erroneous kidnapping and the Five-Year Conclave for the Reth Alliance, and you have got the seeds of battle.
Read or Download Blood War (Blood Destiny, Book 8) PDF
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Additional info for Blood War (Blood Destiny, Book 8)
I raise the dead, Sen˜ora. ” “I try real hard,” I said. ” She made it a statement. 46 LAURELL K. ” I pointed to the still ﬂexing foot. It looked like one of those fake hands that you can buy at Spencer’s. Now that I wasn’t holding it, I could pretend it just had tiny little batteries in it somewhere. Right. ” I nodded. ” “I have an inborn gift for raising the dead. ” She made the word sound like something bad. ” I stood. ” The change of subject was too fast for me. “Ask whatever you came here to ask,” she said.
Too tempting, Grandma said. She had encouraged my being Christian. Encouraged my father to cut me off from her side of the family. Encouraged it for love of me and fear for my soul. And here I was going down the steps into the jaws of temptation. What would Grandma Flores say to that? Probably, go home. Which was good advice. The tight feeling in my stomach was saying the same thing. The lights came on. I blinked on the stairs. The one dim bulb at the foot of the staircase seemed as bright as a star.
The end of the room gleamed with candles. The warm, rich light ﬂickered and ﬁlled the white walls with heat and light. Dominga stood in the midst of that light, that whiteness, and gleamed with evil. There was no other word for it. She wasn’t just bad, she was evil. It gleamed around her like darkness made liquid and touchable. The smiling old woman was gone. She was a creature of power. Manny stood off to one side. He was staring at her. He glanced at me. His eyes were showing a lot of white. The altar was directly behind Dominga’s straight back.