By J. V. Jones
"Wonderful . . . J.V. Jones is a awesome writer." So says Robert Jordan, the writer of The Wheel of Time epic fable sequence. And Jones lives as much as that compliment within the hugely charged epic event of Ash March and Raif Sevrance, outcasts whose fates are entwined through destiny and through want, within the chilly, darkish global that threatens to be torn asunder by way of a conflict to finish all wars. they're yet of many that struggle the feared Endlords, yet either Ash and Raif are distinct in certain ways in which isolate them, but which additionally allow them to accomplish heroic acts that may store their world.Raif, wrongly accused and bring to a halt from his extended family via the treachery in their new headsman, has a expertise for killing that's a part of his curse and his burden. yet he bears one other burden of higher weight. Ash is a sacred warrior to the Sull, an historic race whose numbers have declined.Raised as a foundling, she by no means knew her precise background, she needs to discover ways to settle for the poor presents of her heritage.But as Ash learns extra of her better destiny, Raif's activity looms darkish and determined, for he needs to trip in the course of the nightmare realm of the wish, a spot the place even the Sull now worry to tread. For deep in the wish is the citadel of gray Ice, and there he needs to heal the breach within the Blindwall that already threatens the realm. may still he fail, no longer even Ash's powers can shop them...
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Extra resources for A Fortress of Grey Ice: Book Two of Sword of Shadows
Laying a mitted hand on the crater's rim, he vaulted onto the ice. He landed hard, ten paces below the Listener, on a basin of ancient water that was frozen to the core. "Here. " The Listener dropped a flat-bladed knife onto the ice. "Ulu. Woman's knife. " Raif stabbed at the snow. The top layer was hard and brittle, but softer grains lay beneath. The little knife, with its center tang, had been designed for scraping skins, and it made good progress toward the ice. Raif decided it wasn't worth thinking about why he was being made to do this.
Wielded by Murdo Blackhail and Mad Gregor before him, forged from the crown of the Dhoone kings, and symbol of Blackhail power, the unsheathed sword shone blackly in the torchlight. "I've protected the girl as best I can, but tempers show little sign of cooling. You know how superstitious the old clansmen are. Turby Flapp would see her stoned. Gat Murdock thinks she should walk the coals. " Mace shrugged. " You bring Scarpemen into this house, she wanted to say. No Hailsman wills that. She said, "Not all in the clan condemn her.
When he spoke again there was anger in his voice, and his breath crackled in air that was suddenly still. "Days darker than night lie ahead; that is the truth here. That is the answer to your question. The girl has gone and you cannot follow her. How can you track someone in utter darkness? " Raif heard the stubbornness in his voice. He could not let this man's words distract him. It was a trap, like the oolak. Fine drink. Fine words. He just wished they sounded less like the truth. "Better ask why, not where, Clansman.
A Fortress of Grey Ice: Book Two of Sword of Shadows by J. V. Jones