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Must-read indie books for Spring

Published on April 18, 2021 by Tiffany LafleurLeave a comment

Do you read books by indie authors? The blockbuster hits are, of course, incredible. Who can forget A Song of Achilles, or Throne of Glass?

But recently, I’ve gained a huge appreciation for indie books, and by extension indie authors. There are so many good stories published by small presses, or self-published by authors themselves. As a small-press author myself, I know how even just a little recognition can go a long way.

Here are some indie reads that you should absolutely check out:

The Soft Fall, by Marissa Byfield

Genre: YA Fantasy / Roman Myth retelling

Demon wolves roam the forest, the villagers all said. Dianna had been warned to stay away.
She didn’t listen. Now every full moon Dianna slinks into the cellar beneath the barn. Into the cage made by her brother to protect her secret. One that would get her burned at the stake by the village leaders if discovered.

The heirs to the throne disappear just as their enemies lay siege to the empire. Famine hits the village as it struggles to survive. Dianna does what she can to hunt and help. But her secret is discovered when she transforms during an attack. Captured and imprisoned, Dianna must find a way to escape. If she does, she has only one direction to go. Into the heart of the forest where she was cursed.

The Soft Fall is a refreshingly new take on the werewolf genre that mixes classic tenets with new ideas. In Byfield’s world, the wolves are prisoners of their own bodies. They are not inherently evil, just cursed.

The plot to the book is well-paced, and the features a diverse set of characters. Byfield writes with a poetic eloquence that makes it hard to put the story aside. It’s incredibly well-written, and an absolute must-read for any fantasy or Roman mythology fans! Dianna is a strong, independent young woman who will not bend to the expectations that others have for her. She is her own person who fights for those she loves while desperately trying to understand her place in the world.

Check out The Soft Fall on Amazon!

Clockwork Detective, by R. A. McCandless

Genre: Steampunk / Fantasy

Aubrey Hartmann left the Imperial battlefields with a pocketful of medals, a fearsome reputation, and a clockwork leg. The Imperium diverts her trip home to investigate the murder of a young druwyd in a strange town. She is ordered to not only find the killer but prevent a full-scale war with the dreaded Fae.

Meanwhile, the arrival of a sinister secret policeman threatens to dig up Aubrey’s own secrets – ones that could ruin her career. It soon becomes clear that Aubrey has powerful enemies with plans to stop her before she gets started. Determined to solve the mystery, Aubrey must survive centaurs, thugs and a monster of pure destruction.

The Clockwork Detective was the first Steampunk novel that I read, and I loved it! I have the highest praise for McCandless’s book. Aubrey is a nuanced protagonist, who is both strong yet vulnerable, with flaws that make her human and relatable. The story itself kept me on my toes, as political interests weave in with the magical. I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys science fiction, fantasy, steampunk, and anything in between.

Steampunk and fantasy come together in this heart-stopping detective novel that hits all the right tones. There’s mystery, hints of romance, and controversy afoot. Aubrey must solve the mystery of the murdered Druwyd, and fast, before the Imperium decide to go to war with the fae roaming the ancient woods near Aquilinne.

Check out The Clockwork Detective on Amazon!

The Sapeiro Chronicles: A Forgotten Past, by Tiffany Lafleur

Genre: YA Fantasy

Beast Whisperer – that was Lily’s special talent. Useful, but not as flashy as some. Or so she thought. When she was a child, Lily had washed up on the riverbank near Basolt, with no memory of who she was. Taken in by the couple who found her, she was raised as their own, alongside their new baby. Years later she does something extraordinary. And word spreads of a new Spirit Hopper, someone who can enter into and control not only beasts, but people.

Someone who can change the land of Sapeiro. Someone who supposedly died years before. The rumors catch the attention of those who would control her power. Those who would use Lily for their own purposes, no matter how many lives it costs. They set their plots to capture her in motion. But Lily discovers there is at least one group who might hold the key to her real identity. One group who would protect her. But trust does not come easily for Lily. And her would-be saviors have secrets of their own.

A Forgotten Past is the first book in The Sapeiro Chronicles trilogy. Lily is a complex character who finds herself in the middle of a years-long secret conflict, a conflict she wants nothing to do with. But Lily will need to weigh her resistance to adventure with the consequences of not partaking. A whole kingdom hangs in the balance while she decides which side to take.

Sapeio is a grand land, where everyone has inherited a touch of magic. A Forgotten Past is a fast-paced novel that is at heart uplifting, at times heart-wrenching.

Check out A Forgotten Past on Amazon.

Republic of Ruin, by L. Blaise Hues

Genre: YA Dystopia / Post-apocalyptic

Forget life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness… Surviving is a feat in and of itself.

Seventeen-year-old Ellie Hudson immerses herself in the few things the Supply Wars haven’t destroyed—her ranch work and secret baseball games with her best friend. But her power-hungry stepmother is leading a group of domestic terrorists in an effort to start another Civil War and frame Ellie as the instigator.

Ellie’s lost her father, her home, and her country, but nothing can rob her of her need to preserve the American dream…or what’s left of it.

I had the absolute pleasure of being an ARC reader for L. Blaise Hues’ Legacy of Debris series, which includes three books, the first of which is Republic of Ruin.

An EMP attack has completely obliterated what we know the modern world to be. No more power, no more technology, only you and your skills. In the power vacuum left in the dust, some want to rise from the ashes and elect themselves as rulers. What I found most enthralling about the Legacy of Debris series was how realistic it was. This is not a story where you need to suspend your understanding of reality. The circumstances that led to the apocalypse are unfortunately not that far-fetched.

Republic of Ruin has all the makings of a classic in the genre: a heroic heroine, a nation holding itself together by a thread, a budding romance. But it also has elements that make it unique. Each book in the series is also a fairy-tale retelling. And let me tell you, it works surprisingly well!

Check out Republic of Ruin on Amazon.

The Wise One, by K. T. Anglehart

Genre: YA Urban Fantasy / Witches

Mckenna’s never thought much of her nightmares, but on her seventeenth birthday, a vivid dream of burning at the stake awakens her dormant abilities, thrusting her into a world where faeries are real, spirits hold a grudge, and a High Priestess obsessed with a 16th-century prophecy is tracking her every move.

Now, her overprotective dads, Seán and Andre, are forced to tell her the truth—they know who her birth mother is, and her life is not the surrogate story she’s always been told. Abigail, Mckenna’s mom, is some sort of mystic, and Mckenna a Wise One. Whatever the hell that means.

With the help of a persistent little wren and company of a newfound friend, Mckenna journeys to Ireland in search of her mother and real answers. Along the way, she learns to harness her innate magic and trust her intuition, as best she can anyway—Cillian, a kind and passionate delegate who crosses her path, is proving much harder to read. Only her mother could truly help her halt her ill fate and prepare her for what’s to come…before she gives in to the darkness she knows is buried deep within.

The Wise one was a wonderfully witchy read, with strong elements of friendship and powerful family bonds that span oceans. Oh, and the best part? It’s set in the 90s!

The Wise One is a beautifully written book that takes us cross North America all the way to Ireland, where McKenna was born. As she embarks on her adventure of self-discovery, she makes friends along the way that help her in her search for her mother. But their motives might not be as genuine as they appear to be.

I read the whole book in like, two days. I had a very hard time putting it down, and I loved all the 90s references! An absolute must-read for anyone who enjoys reading about witches, friendship, magic and prophecies.

Get your copy of The Wise One on Amazon!

Time to Live, Jordan Elizabeth

Genre: NA Urban Fantasy

A witch’s magical orbs. Clan Wars that have lasted centuries. A heritage shrouded in secrecy.
Welcome to seventeen-year-old Banon Andreeta’s world.

Banon is a child of Clan Genae and can do things most people can’t. Which might account for her rebellious behavior. Or maybe she’s just a magnet for trouble. Either way, she’s in hot water more often than the average teen. When she rejects Fred, a random creep at the mall, she makes an enemy who will bring unwanted attention from Clan Julae, her own clan’s mortal enemy.

She also makes a friend in Clan Julae – the intriguing Hadley. Drawn to each other, neither understands the forces behind the attraction. Or that they are from opposing clans. Hadley only knows Banon is in danger and he must protect her. But the long-standing Clan War is not as much in the past as the Genae thought. Their very existence is threatened by enemies known and unknown. And the only thing between them and death is Banon. A secret weapon even they don’t know they have.

Time to Live is a beautiful story of love that spans hundreds of years. But it’s also a story of betrayal and the power that lies have when they become perceived truths. The characters were well developed and I found myself unable to put the book down as I rooted for them to achieve their goals!

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book and was impressed with how the author was able to jump between timelines seamlessly. I look forward to the sequel! Highly recommend to anyone who enjoys reading urban fantasy.

Check Time to Live on Amazon!

HOW TO MAKE AN AUTHOR’S DAY

Published on December 6, 2020 by Tiffany LafleurLeave a comment

As the air outside gets colder, and windows begin to glisten with an effervescent sheen of frost on them in the morning, it can only mean one thing.

I will start wearing gloves and a hat to type, because it’s cold as **** outside. Also, winter is coming, and all the darkness with it. The bright side is the pretty lights, the Christmas tree, and general Holiday cheer in the air. Even with the… circumstances…that we are living through in 2020, there is still reason to celebrate and be merry, even if it’s from six feet apart.

On to the good stuff. You may have come in possession of an author recently. Maybe it’s a friend, a partner, a child, or a colleague. And you may be wondering how to make their day. Luckily, you’ve come to the right place! Authors aren’t really that complicated. All they need is a bit of love, some caffeinated warm drink, and long stretches of silence. But there are absolutely ways to help them as they fledge into their final author form and grow as writers. Here are a few easy, simple and cheap ideas on how to make an author’s day.

Buy their book

This point may seem terribly obvious, but buying an author’s book is a great way to encourage them to continue writing and working on their passion projects. It’s also a way to achieve rankings on Amazon and other book-seller websites.

Authors spend hundreds, if not thousands of hours poring over their work, trying to catch every mistake, plot hole, and under-developed character before the book is printed. It has been re-read so many times by the writer that the words melt into one another and the story stops making sense.

So every copy sold, even if it’s bought by a friend or family member, brings a small ray of sunshine into the little author’s heart. And each copy sold brings with it the hope that more copies will be sold through word of mouth, until eventually complete strangers begin picking up copies of the book!

So, buy the book. It is the easiest way to support your author friend. Even if it isn’t a genre that you read, even if it will sit on your bookshelf for years. Buy the book. Don’t ask for a free copy. It invalidates the blood, sweat, tears and literal thousands of dollars the author may have poured into bringing the book to market.

Buy the book.

Buy the book for your friends

Good, so you bought yourself a copy. Now, consider buying it for your friends. Did the author in your life just publish an illustrated kid’s book? Buy it for the end-of-year raffle at your child’s day care.

Or better yet, get all your holiday shopping done at once and buy copies for all the children in your life, get them signed, and then be the cool person who brought signed books for all the kids. It’s a good look, trust me.

Buying copies for others is a great way to spread the author’s work and maybe inspire others to check their work. Your author friend will be grateful for the exposure, and for the thoughtful gesture! Not to mention, it might be the fastest holiday shopping you ever do.

Review the book

Authors have a fickle relationship with reviews. On the one hand, a good review can inspire another potential fan to pick up a copy and give the book a shot. On the other, a needlessly cruel review can drive potential buyers away and result in lost sales. But the worst is having no reviews.

Obtaining reviews is hard. Like, harder than writing the book. It’s the literary equivalent of pulling teeth.

Think of it, how many times have you reviewed a product? Yet how much do you rely on reviews when buying things?

There’s a reason authors are obnoxiously annoying about getting people to review their books. And it’s because every review counts. Every little star is worth its weight in gold, and helps bring the book one step closer to finding its way to another potential fan.

This is especially true for Amazon reviews. Amazon works with complex algorithms that are akin to magic. But they do bring people towards products they are likely interested in. Blame it on Big Brother, but the algorithms work wonders in making sure your target audience is targeted.

Thing is, these algorithms only work if the reviews are in. No one really knows what the ‘magic’ number is, what number brings you closer to having your book in a newsletter. But the general consensus is that reviews are good, and a product that has many good reviews has a higher likelihood of being recommended to audiences interested in the product.

So yeah, buy the book, and then review the book.

Talk about the book

So you’ve read the book, reviewed the book, and bought copies for your friends. What’s next? Now it’s time to talk about the book. Have you ever suddenly become interested in a movie or show because someone spoke about it? Same happens with books.

Sales and exposure are the two things that authors crave. And they work hand in hand. Have good exposure? You’ll probably have decent sales. Have good sales? It’s probably going to lead to more exposure. The effect is exponential. The more people are exposed to a product, the more likely they are to think it is good, and the more likely they are to give it a chance.

So go ahead. Share that book picture on Instagram! Recommend the book in a thread asking for good entertainment. A lot of times, authors take care of their own marketing, and it can be really, really heartbreaking when it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. So hyping up a book on social media is really the best way to help support your author friend.

And it doesn’t just need to be once! The effect is compounded: the more people who do it, and the more often, the higher the chances someone will stumble upon the book and like what they see.

So you see? Supporting your author friend isn’t complicated, and nor is it expensive! But each of these little things brings a lot of recognition and exposure to the author and will help them as they grow their audiences and flourish as a writer.

Interested in supporting an indie author? You can do so by buying my book The Sapeiro Chronicles: A Forgotten Past here! And don’t forget to review it once you’re done reading!

ON THE PATH TO YOUR FIRST DRAFT: FIGURE OUT YOUR WRITING STYLE FIRST

Published on November 8, 2020 by Tiffany LafleurLeave a comment

Maybe you have an idea for a story that’s been kicking around in your head, screaming to be let out, nurtured, and put on paper. It might have come to you just as you were falling asleep, or as you were on your fourth kilometer while jogging around the block. But now, it’s here and it isn’t letting you rest easy.

It’s time to write it down and make the jump from half-baked idea to a full-fledged narrative. Cue the sudden realization that writing a whole book is…well, it can feel overwhelming. The first milestone is hammering out that first draft.

Here’s where it gets tricky, and this is where a lot of fledgling (and even well-seasoned) writers get stuck: writing the ominous, terrifying first initial draft.

But how does one write a first draft? Surely there are steps that must be accomplished before sitting down with your hot beverage of choice, a solid amount of motivation, and a healthy amount of optimism.

I’m here to tell you that yes, yes there is. There are indeed many things to consider before putting pen to paper for the first time. Character sketches, maps, floor designs, plotting the narrative, story development are but a few things to consider working on before writing.

It may seem like a lot. Take a deep breath. Good. Now, here’s the question of the day for you: what kind of writer are you?

It may seem innocuous enough. And may also seem completely irrelevant to writing a first draft. But determining what kind of writer you are may help in figuring out what kind of planning you need to do before sitting down to write.

From my musings with other writers, I’ve noticed there are two overarching ‘types’ of writers: those who write without a plan, and those who write with one.

Both are equally good ways of writing a story. Personally, I’m a planner who writes. I don’t feel comfortable writing unless I have over-analyzed the whole world I’m trying to build. But Stephen King is perhaps the best-known writer who just writes, without tethering himself to a plan. And to give complete credit where credit is due, I think Mr. King has written enough stories at this point in his career that he can absolutely do whatever he wants.

Before sitting down and working on your story, determine which type of writer you are. There are pros and cons of each style, and becoming familiar with the pitfalls or advantages will really help determine how to approach your first draft.

The ‘just do it’ writers

These writers don’t plan. They have an idea and execute it as the story evolves in their minds. After a first draft is written, they reexamine their story and try to find common threads that can be tied together and exploited to strengthen the storyline.

The advantage of this approach to writing is that the absence of a plan can feel liberating. You can do whatever you want! Your muse will guide you! The characters will speak for themselves! The story may even feel more authentic because even you, the writer, are flying by the seat of your pants!

There may not be much room to plan in this stage, and so the prevalent concern is to keep writing. Not having a story outline may feel freeing, but the weight of the blank page staring back at you feels a lot heavier when you don’t have a captain to steer the ship.

What’s important to keep in mind when pumping out your first draft is that the quality really doesn’t matter much. The longer you stay stuck in a particularly knotty area of your story, the longer you’re ignoring the rest of the narrative.

And here’s where the downside of this technique comes in: when you don’t know where you’re going, it’s easy to get lost and lose sight of the big picture while you agonize over details. Or, even worse, lose motivation to write after you’ve written yourself into a corner and can’t see a way out.

For ‘just-do-it’ writers, it’s important to remember that what counts is to keep writing, no matter how thorny or difficult the task may seem. Things can be altered, and since you haven’t adhered to any firm plan, everything can be changed anyway. But the crucial bit is hunkering down and pecking away at the keyboard, stringing sentences together so they make sense.

A good tip to unstructured writing is to structure your time. Set yourself a goal for how long you want to write, undisturbed, and then stick to it. And no matter how eloquently the siren of distraction calls, keep your butt glued to that writing chair until you’ve completed the required time to do so. Best to fit it into your schedule, or risk being at the mercy of ‘inspiration’.

The planners

As a planner myself, this method is what I subscribe to and fully endorse. I’ve tried the unstructured writing, but to be completely honest, I find it stressful. So I’ve always over-planned my stories, going into the nitty gritty of character development and plot structure before ever considering putting pen to paper. I draw maps, sketch out characters, and concoct whole backstories for my main characters, including the antagonists.

The planning method of writing means exactly that: planning the nitty-gritty of the story, the narrative arc, and plot structure so you get an idea of the big picture before sitting down to write.

The advantage of the planning method of writing is that staring at a blank page isn’t as intimidating, since you already broadly know what you want to say. It’s just a question of how you want to phrase it. By breaking it up into little chunks, it also minimizes the burden of knowing you need to write a whole book, because you can take the story one chapter at a time. It’s a nice way to confidently chug away at the narrative that was oh-so-brilliantly charted out by a past version of yourself. This way, you can blindly follow along to the arc that was pre-determined and concentrate on throwing words on the paper.

The downside of planning so much of the story ahead of time is that it may result in the story feeling forced, or at some point the narrative may outgrown the arc you’re trying to force through. In these instances, it’s totally okay to switch up the plan you had on the fly and spend some time re-charting your course, if you know it isn’t going anywhere anymore.

So, what now?

Hopefully, by this point you’ve giving some thought to what kind of writer you are, and what steps you may need to take before sitting down and typing out the first draft of your masterpiece. And don’t forget, you are also free to combine the two methods to create your own hybrid version that works perfectly just for you! Nothing is stopping you!

When I was writing the first draft of my Young Adult Fantasy novel, The Sapeiro Chronicles: A Forgotten Past, I first spent countless hours delving into the culture, religion, and structure of the land. Then I agonized over character development and sketched out key locations. After that, I loosely plotted out what I wanted to happen, and used that plan to then section the whole novel into chapter blurbs. These chapter blurbs were the foundation of the first draft, and although the final result was immeasurably different from that initial first 50,000-word draft, sectioning it as I did helped in taking it one step at a time and, more importantly, see the big picture.

Reader Appreciation Post: Read Chapter One of A Forgotten Past!

Published on July 28, 2020July 28, 2020 by Tiffany LafleurLeave a comment

It’s my birthday today! And to celebrate, I want to give a gift to YOU, the Reader! So here’s the entire first chapter of A Forgotten Past.

I hope you like it! And if you really like it, then feel free to get your copy on Amazon so you can continue reading through the story.

Enjoy 🙂

*****

CHAPTER ONE – MENIDI FIELDS

Though the sun had not yet touched the horizon, the moon was bright in the sky, casting a silvery sheen over the world below. Spring was in the air, ripe with moisture which settled on Lily’s arms. She shivered and drew her fur-lined coat tighter around her shoulders. Summer was still a thought, but it would bring the warm nights she so looked forward to. Until then, her patrols would be cold and wearisome.

She tucked the stray strands of her dark-brown hair behind her ear and stifled a yawn, shutting her green eyes tight. She and her patrol members were finally, mercifully on their way back home from their mission: accompanying a delivery of raw metals and building materials from Stonemire, their capital city, back to Basolt, their home.

Lily glanced at the cart to her left. The heavy wooden structure was laden with crates and boxes piled high upon one another, secured to the frame with coarse rope. At the front of the cart, six gray, draft horses snorted and neighed as they dug their hooves into the soft earth, muscles straining as they pulled the cart forward one step at a time. The cart driver, a squat old man with a bushy salt and pepper mustache, glanced warily from one side to another, as if expecting a threat to jump out from every shadow.

He isn’t wrong,Lily thought, bracing herself against another cold gust of wind.

Treasure like this would be a fine acquisition for any thieves who happened to pass by. Hence, a ten-person patrol had been requisitioned. Lily glanced at her fellow guards. Swords were sheathed at their hips, and the backs of their dark cloaks had been embroidered with the Craig family crest: a purple mountain over a valley. Though the guards looked menacing, Lily knew that their patrol was more symbolic than practical. Their biggest threat was curious wildlife from the nearby Ashenson Wilds, the thick forest that spread across the western edge of the continent. And even that was a stretch.

Turning in her saddle, Lily could still make out the misty peaks of the Teraberg Mountains, their summits grazing the darkening sky like serrated teeth. Stonemire was a city fleshed out from within, buried deep in the heart of the largest mountain. Founded by the Craig family, it had taken eons to carve out the tunnels that connected the different parts of the capital, which eventually led to the other Craig settlements, further along the mountain range.

As her patrol had put more distance between themselves and the capital, the rocky terrain had gradually given way to fields of grass, which made the journey home easier. It had taken them a full day of cantering across the Menidi Fields to arrive at the meeting spot, where they took over from the Stonemire guards in assuring the safety of the cargo on the way home. Another full day had passed since then. If they kept a steady pace overnight, they would arrive in Basolt just after the break of dawn.

Lily drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders, trying to bury herself in the warm fabric. The cold air had started to seep through her skin and would soon reach her bones. She sighed, hoping the rest of the journey wouldn’t be too miserable. She already looked forward to wrapping herself under her thick blanket while sipping on her mother’s famous vegetable soup.

Another shiver passed through her body. Lily sighed. Maybe it wasn’t just the cold. The dream last night hadn’t helped. She shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. She hated that dream: dark water closing in on her, pushing and pulling her through a cold current. Her lungs feeling as though they would explode from lack of oxygen. The intolerable pressure around her head, as if someone had tried to crush her skull. Every so often it returned to haunt her.

Maybe the shivering had nothing to do with the temperature, after all.

The sound of hooves approaching snapped her out of her distracting thoughts. She glanced up as a man advanced toward her on a roan horse. His brown hair was pulled away from his face, and a scraggly beard covered his mouth. Though he looked like a menacing warrior, with a square jaw and thick cords of muscle wrapped around his arms, his eyes were kind, crinkling at the corners.

Lily smiled at him as he drew closer. “Brandon. Did you get bored at the front of the patrol, all by yourself?”

Brandon grinned. Though the leader of their patrol – and Captain of Basolt – was well into his fifties, he led his people with the kindness and energy of a much younger man. “It’s dull, always being at the front. No one to talk to. Besides, I wanted to check on the status of the wolf pack.”

Lily was readying an answer when a smug voice cut her off.

“They’ve fallen behind, Captain. I don’t expect they will be causing us any more trouble.”

Lily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had promised her parents she wouldn’t harm Cormick, no matter how much he tested her patience. In retrospect, she realized she shouldn’t have made a promise she knew she’d have a hard time keeping.

Cormick drew up on Brandon’s other side, matching his and Lily’s speed. His black hair was slicked away from his face, and he straightened his back as he rode alongside his leader. His high cheekbones made his face look sallow in the waning light.

“I haven’t let myself be bothered by the arduous nature of the trip, Captain, and have made sure to stay locked on to the wolves’ location.” He glanced pointedly at Lily as he said it, a small smirk barely tugging at the corner of his lips.

Lily nonchalantly looked ahead.

“The main core of the pack has fallen behind, yes. But the scouts are ahead, hoping to cut us off at the ridge,” she said, pointing ahead where the road dipped between two small hills.

Cormick snorted. “I would have sensed them if they had tried to pass us,” he retorted contemptuously.

Lily reached for the bow slung across her back and notched an arrow. She held the tip out towards Brandon.

“Would you do the honour?” she asked.

Leaning over from his horse, Brandon blew softly on the tip of the arrow, which instantly ignited. Pointing the flaming projectile upward, Lily pulled the string taut and let the arrow fly with a hollow twang.

They watched as the arrow soared through the air in a graceful arc, a line of orange flames trailing behind it. It disappeared from view as it descended over the ridge – and was met with a surprised yowl. A gray wolf scuttled away; its tail tucked between its legs. A fellow scout followed suit, fearful of more fiery projectiles. They yipped pitifully as they ran into the surrounding fields.

Lily was barely able to conceal the grin that threatened to split her face. This was made even harder when she spotted Cormick’s confused yet enraged expression.

Cormick was a gifted Beast Whisperer, but she was better.

“How did you . . . They were all the way over there, how in the world could you sense that?” He asked, his voice a few pitches higher than usual.

Laughing heartily, Brandon slapped Lily on the back, winding her for a moment.

“Good thing we’ve got you with us, Lily. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Beast Whisperer with your range. It really is a gift you have.”

Cormick shot her a dark glare, his mouth a hard line. “I guess the orphan does have her talents,” he said, staring her straight in the eyes. “It’s too bad she can’t use it to remember who she is.” Digging his heels into his steed, he cantered forward and settled near the front of the patrol, nose in the air and shoulders squared.

Brandon glared at Cormick’s back a few moments before turning his attention to Lily.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just jealous. After all, he was considered the prodigy before you came along.”

Lily shrugged. “I don’t let it get to me. And besides, he’s telling the truth. Why would I get mad at him for that?”

Brandon smiled softly and looked up at the sky, lit by the shimmering light of the stars.

“One day I would like to see you lead your own patrol, Lily. I know that’s what Cormick wants, but he’s too self-centered. Good leaders aren’t those who lead for themselves. They lead for others.”

Lily smiled softly as she gazed up at the stars. Leader of her own patrol . . . she liked the sound of that. They trotted along in silence, broken only by the soft footfalls of the horses in the patrol and the creaking of the cart.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of something splintering, followed by a loud groan and a crash. Startled, Lily glanced back at the cart, which had come to an abrupt halt. A wheel of the merchant’s cart had broken under the weight of the metals it carried and was now listing precariously to one side.

Brandon swore under his breath. Jumping off his horse, he approached the cart to examine the damage. It wasn’t hard to see that the wheel was completely unsalvageable, the reinforced wooden spokes having fractured under the stress. Brandon sighed, turned, and addressed his patrol.

“Looks like we’ll be stranded here until we can get this fixed. Luckily, we have a spare wheel, but it will take some time to re-attach the new one,” Brandon said, resting his hands on his hips.

“Cormick, Lily. Keep your senses sharp. I wouldn’t want those wolves to think we’re easy prey.”

“Yes, Captain,” they replied in unison. Cormick darted off right away, shooting her another smug expression as he trotted over to the other side of the cart. Lily sighed. Why couldn’t he understand that she didn’t care what he thought about her?

Lily dug her heels into her mare’s side, guiding her to a small rocky outcrop. There she had a sweeping view of the landscape – green rolling hills as far as the eyes could see, with an occasional pocket of bushes or trees. The sparse trees danced in the gentle wind. Everything was quiet, peaceful.

Closing her eyes, Lily opened her mind, reaching out with her consciousness to sense the beings around her. Though she remained firmly planted in her saddle, she was reaching out, sensing the warm glow of other beings surrounding her, appearing like patches of light in her mind.

She could sense the draft horses, glad for the rest the broken wheel provided them, as well as the mice scuttling in the grass. A hawk flew above, gazing on, uninterested in the scene below. The world was lit with the consciousnesses of the beings that surrounded her. She could sense them and feel their joy, fear, and determination to survive. Their emotions were her emotions.

Extending her reach further, Lily sought out the wolf pack. They were not difficult to find: seven large spirits clustered together, a few hundred meters behind the patrol. Their sharp, predatory minds were bright. They were forming a plan, intent on taking advantage of the broken wheel, which left her patrol stranded and weak. But their intentions changed suddenly, from focused planning to aggression – and finally fear.

Lily opened her eyes, suddenly on high alert. What could make the biggest predators in the fields feel such unrestrained fear? Closing her eyes again, she extended her consciousness, probing, searching for the cause of the fear that had overtaken the wolves so quickly. There didn’t seem to be anything that could—

Lily frowned and concentrated harder. Another consciousness had appeared. It was far away but approaching fast. It was too fast for a forest bear but too slow for a horse. Its mind was intelligent, smarter than the wolves, but she was still not able to identify whether or not it was a threat.

Pulling on her mare’s reins, she dashed over to where Cormick stood, on the other side of the cart. The spare wheel had been brought out, waiting for the rest of the patrol to pry the shattered wheel from its spoke. Brandon looked at her quizzically as she sprinted along, though Lily ignored him.

“Cormick,” she called as she approached him. He glared at her through hooded eyes.

“What, come to gloat about how powerful you are, orphan?” he spat.

“No, you twit,” she snapped, patience running thin. “Something’s coming our way. Can you sense it?”

Cormick was about to retort when his expression froze. He snapped his head eastward, towards where Lily had sensed the bright consciousness.

“What is that?” he asked incredulously, all animosity gone.

Lily had a feeling she knew. Though it shouldn’t be possible, she knew what was lurching their way. There was only one thing on this side of the continent that could be that big, that powerful, and that intelligent.

A berserker.

She quickly guided her horse over to the rest of her patrol, where Brandon had finally succeeded in taking off the broken wheel. Another two men were crouched near the spoke, trying to ease the new wheel on, while the others were straining at the frame, attempting to lift it high enough to latch on the new wheel.

“Something’s coming,” she blurted out, heart fluttering in her chest.

Brandon’s expression instantly darkened.

“What is it, thieves? The wolves? Rasara?” he asked, placing his hand instinctively on the pommel of his sword.

“No,” she replied. “It’s a berserker.”

Brandon’s jaw dropped. “A berserker? How is that even possible? Are you sure?”

Lily nodded vigorously. “No doubt about it. But hurry, it’s moving fast! We have to leave the cart behind and go!”

Brandon’s reaction was swift. Immediately, he launched himself on his horse and addressed his patrol.

“Everyone back on their horses now, we’re leaving! Smash the wheels, we’ll go back for the stores tomorrow. No one is risking their lives for—”

“It’s here!” Cormick yelled. His voice wavered as he pointed eastward, towards the hills.

Lily’s heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t need Cormick to tell her the berserker was upon them – she’d sensed its approach. Its incoming presence washed over her: powerful, near-paralyzing.

The creature was not yet in view, but the ground was shaking. Waves of fear and confusion came off the beast. Something had happened to it, something disorienting. It meant them no harm, but unfortunately it was not aware they were in its path.

Before anyone could stop her, she jumped off her horse, and sprinted forward. The ground now rumbled with each of the beast’s steps, though it had not yet appeared at the top of the opposite hill.

“Lily, come back!” Brandon yelled, trying in vain to catch her arm as she darted away. “What are you doing?”

Ignoring her captain, Lily paused at the dip in the hill. She planted her feet firmly on the ground and steadied herself, taking in long, deep breaths, trying to slow her heartbeat and stop the trembling in her hands.

She hoped this would work.

The berserker came careening over the hill, emitting a guttural roar as it landed heavily on the ground. Its thick, gray skin glowed. It was at least twice Lily’s height and four times as long. Two long, white horns curled out from its brow, pointing forward, while another jutted out from its nose. Its milky-white eyes were set deep in its skull, rolling frantically. White froth foamed at its mouth, the spittle flying in all directions as it launched itself down the hill towards Lily. Its short, powerful legs, as thick as tree trunks, propelled it forward at an alarming speed.

It was a terrifying sight. Lily faintly heard her patrol yelling, but she couldn’t make out the words over the pounding of the berserker, its thin, stumpy tail whipping back and forth as it charged straight for her, head low to the ground, nostrils flared, and thin, disc-like ears pointing forward.

Steadying herself, Lily closed her eyes and opened her mind, concentrating on the beast in front of her. Its mind was clouded with fear, confusion, and pain. It formed a wall around its mind, blocking out all other thoughts.

Gritting her teeth, Lily pushed harder, managing to slip tendrils of her own consciousness into the berserker’s mind. Focusing intently, she tried to inject thoughts of peace and calm. Noticing the alien presence, the massive animal recoiled, anger flaring as it fought back, trying to push the foreign consciousness out. Lily wormed her way back in, snuffing out the fear by enveloping it in tranquility.

The effort seemed to have little effect, and the distance kept closing. Eventually, the terror tapered to acute anxiety, and to a slight unease. As the strength of the beast’s emotions diminished, so did its speed, until its breakneck sprint had devolved into a slow, ambling walk.

Lily opened her eyes. The berserker was a mere twenty meters from her. The ground no longer trembled with its steps, and its eyes had regained their focus; they were looking straight at her. It gave out a low moan, tossing its horned head around and came to a complete stop. It gave another low grumble and lay down on the grass, breathing heavily. Resting its head on the ground, it moaned pitifully.

Lily noticed the cause of the beast’s suffering: a metal pole stuck in its flank. Thick blood ran down the length of its body. The berserker looked to Lily again, and she felt the despair in its mind. It needed her help.

Cautiously, she approached, wary of the sharp horns that could so easily impale her. One sweep of its head and she would be mortally wounded. Keeping a wide berth between her and the horns, she approached the beast’s side, slowly making her way to the animal’s wound.

Even lying down, the berserker towered over her. Its chest rose and fell as it took quick, shallow breaths. Lily cautiously climbed onto its back leg, trying to reach the pole embedded in its hide. She climbed fully on top of the beast and crouched near the wound. The pole was made of thick iron, maybe four inches in diameter. Gingerly, she touched it. The berserker immediately recoiled and let out a low growl. She kept her balance as the beast beneath her shifted.

She held her hand to the creature’s warm skin and reached out with her mind.

Let me help you, she repeated over and over, until her message was a song filling its head.

Slowly, she felt the berserker’s tense muscles relax ever so slightly. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the pole with both hands, wrapping her fingers firmly around the rough metal.

Don’t move.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled. Beneath her, the beast whimpered but did not budge.

The pole didn’t move at first. Lily pulled harder, and it slowly began to give. She pulled the metal free.

Nimbly, she jumped down from the berserker’s back, pole in hand. It was three feet long, the bottom foot drenched in blood. The point had been sharpened. If Lily didn’t know any better, she would have said it was a spear.

But who would be reckless enough to attack a berserker?

Free from the metal embedded in its flesh, the beast rocked back onto its feet and pushed itself up. The wound was already mending, the hole closing before Lily’s eyes.

She smiled. The creature’s magic was truly incredible.

It looked at Lily once more and gratefully bowed its head. Lily bowed back in turn.

Go home and be well.

With another growl, the berserker turned and began trotting away, back from the direction in which it had come. Lily watched it run, the trembling in the earth diminishing as it sped away. She vaguely realized that Brandon had joined her, and they watched the beast retreat.

“If I hadn’t seen that with my own eyes, I never would have believed it,” he said quietly, staring after the berserker as it disappeared from view. He turned to her.

“Lily, that was incredibly dangerous. You could have gotten yourself killed!” He fell quiet. “I’m trying to be angry. I should be angry at you. But to be truthful, I’m still trying to understand how you managed to do that. It looked as if you were able to communicate with it.”

Lily shrugged. “I just let it know that I wanted to help it.” She frowned. “Although I don’t know what it was doing here. It seemed as if something had attacked it.”

Brandon shrugged. “It’s true that this is much further north than they typically roam. But down south, in the Wyck region, there are lots of abandoned castles and fortifications from the Great War. It could have impaled itself on an old piece of stray metal.”

Brandon turned, beckoning Lily to follow him. “Let’s go home. The others are reattaching the wheel to the cart.” His eyes twinkled in the light of the stars. “I’ve never heard of a Beast Whisperer being able to influence animal behaviour before. If you’re not careful, you’ll go down in history as the strongest Beast Whisperer ever!”

Lily smiled demurely. Turning one last time, she stared at the spot where the berserker had disappeared. Something didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t figure out what. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes. At least she would have an interesting story to tell when she got home.

****

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