Guest Author, Adam Dreece, and his Emergent Steampunk Series, "The Yellow Hoods!"

Guest Author, Adam Dreece, and his Emergent Steampunk Series, "The Yellow Hoods!"

Author Bio

For 25 years, Adam wrote short stories that he only shared with friends and family. Like many people, he put his career first, and writing second. In 2009 when his appendix nearly killed him, he found himself struck with horrific abdominal pain that seemed never ending. Fifteen months later, after a surgery to explore for, and remove, scar tissue reduced the pain to a manageable, chronic level, he started writing a memoir. Nearly six months later, once again back at work but this time with writing always having a place in his life, he found himself hit with sudden, severe asthma. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and Adam found himself once again trying to figure out which way was up.

Two years later, with the memoir going through editing, Adam decided it needed to sit a while. The challenges he’d faced had made him more driven, more focused, more appreciative of the time that he had. With the support of his wife, on November 28th, 2013 he made a plan to be a full time author in five years. On January 4th, he started writing a story at the request of his daughter that became book 1 of The Yellow Hoods.

Adam lives with his amazing wife and three awesome kids. He’s very active on Twitter, and loves engaging with fellow readers and writers. He regularly helps fellow writings.

He lives in Calgary, Alberta.

Adam Dreece

Author of emergent Steampunk series  The Yellow Hoods

Young Adult written for everyone

Book 1 - Along Came a Wolf at Amazon, Amazon.ca, Kobo, Smashwords, The Yellow Hoods Store

Book 2 - Breadcrumb Trail at Amazon, Amazon,.ca,  Kobo, Smashwords, The Yellow Hoods Store

3 Chapter free samples available

Blog: AdamDreece.com

Twitter: @AdamDreece

Book One (Along Came a Wolf) 
For a limited time, this e-book is available at the discounted price of $1.29.

Along Came a Wolf is the debut book of the highly rated emergent Steampunk series, The Yellow Hoods. This young adult series is layered for the mature reader. It incorporates some elements of fairy-tale, inspired by the notion of what if the rhymes and tales we know were based on real events, in this world. 

Seeds of a technological revolution have started to sprout in this old world, about to change it forever. A secret society, long thought crushed, makes its first move against its unsuspecting, benevolent opponent. 

Master inventor Nikolas Klaus has seen some of this coming, and has quietly broken the rule of keeping his secret society's knowledge and skills from the younger generations. He knows that the day will come when they will be needed, but has underestimated how soon. 

Tee, Elly, and Richy shed their innocence and are forced to stand as the Yellow Hoods to overcome life- threatening dangers unleashed as secrets of Nikolas' past are revealed. 

Will Nikolas' secrets cost him the life of his granddaughter? Are his efforts too little, too late? 

Review quotes: 
"A gripping read. Lots of fun for kids and adults both. A wonderful mixture of action, mystery, and whimsy that leaves an impression on you long after you've turned the last page." 

"I was always envious of people who could get drawn into a good book. Now, I am one of those people." 

"This book is well written and the character development is phenomenal. I'm not just talking about the main characters here—I mean ALL of them."

Exclusive Excerpt from The Yellow Hoods: Along Came a Wolf ;)

CHAPTER TWO

Of Wolves & Pigs

Tee placed the little red box in her backpack, slipped the 

backpack over her shoulders, and then pulled her cloak 

over top. With her parcel secured, she proceeded to sing 

and dance down the road, as she usually did.

She loved the smell of the forest, and the look of the 

red and yellow leaves everywhere. It was like a duel of 

colors, each fighting for supremacy.

While autumn had just begun, the trees seemed a bit 

impatient to embrace winter. Every now and then, the 

morning seemed to whisper that winter wasn’t far away. 

Tee wondered what the rush was.

“Hello. Well, what do we have here?” boomed a 

menacing, local-accented voice. Instinctively, Tee sprang 

into the bushes. After a quick look around, she realized the 

voice came from down the road.

The voice belonged to a tall, rough-looking, unshaven 

man. He was about fifty yards down the trail with two 

bigger, rougher-looking men, one on each side

had stopped a finely dressed man atop a brown and white 

horse.

Tee moved through the bushes with practiced ease, 

until she could clearly see the three men. “The Cochon 

brothers,” she muttered to herself. She’d heard of the 

troublemakers and had been warned many times to avoid 

them. There were rumors they’d recently run some guys 

out of town.

The stranger’s horse nervously moved back and forth, 

trying to get away from the brothers who flanked her. The 

rider was doing his best to keep her calm.

“Let me pass,” said the rider in crisp, clear words. 

Tee immediately noticed his slight accent, and the way 

he held himself. By the way he was looking down at the 

ruffians, and how his words were clear and sharply 

pronounced, she guessed he was used to being around 

important people—perhaps even royalty. Her grandfather 

had taught her how to listen for such clues. 

She wondered if the rider was from one of the two 

capital cities of their small kingdom, or maybe even from 

one of the neighboring kingdoms to the east or south.

“I have an urgent message to deliver. Remove 

yourselves!” he commanded, placing his hand atop the 

gold and silver hilt of his sword. A flintlock pistol was 

visible, tucked into his black belt.

Tee shook her head. “Shouldn’t have said that,” she 

muttered to herself. “Now they’re going to want what 

you’ve got.”

The two younger brothers looked to the eldest, who 

stood in front of the horse. “I’ll tell you what, messenger 

boy,” said the eldest Cochon. “For a small sum of money, 

I’ll deliver the message for you. Now what is it?”

The rider closely examined the three brothers. “My 

name is Andre LeLoup. I am on official business. Out of 

my way!” he said indignantly. He seemed both relieved 

and disappointed that they didn’t recognize his name.

“That’s a funny name for a horse—official business!” 

said the middle brother, known as Squeals. The three 

brothers laughed.

“Right you are,” said the eldest. “Right you are. Now, 

I’m not an unreasonable man. Am I, Bore?”

The youngest brother, Bore, was by far the largest. A 

wall of a man, he stood six feet, five inches tall. Like his 

brothers, his clothes were homemade, and badly. Worse 

yet, his boots were a patchwork, made by cutting up pairs 

of smaller boots and stitching them together.

He shook his head in an exaggerated fashion and 

replied in a deep, dim-witted voice, “No, Bakon, nope.”

Bore’s first name was actually Boris, but he had never 

been able to pronounce it properly. Everyone knew him as 

Bore. Unfortunately, it emphasized his pig-like looks. “My 

brother, he’s a nice man,” he added, giggling like a 

mischievous little boy.

Meanwhile, in the bushes, Tee rifled through her 

backpack.

Bakon studied the messenger up and down. “So, how 

about you come down for a little chat then, eh?” he asked.

The messenger glared at the ruffians and started to 

reach for his pistol. “Now, I demand—”

Bakon interrupted, “Oh, I’ve had enough of him. Bring 

him down, boys!” 

On command, the two Cochon brothers reached up 

and pulled the man down with ease, forcing him to his 

knees and holding him in place. 

Squeals slapped the horse’s side, yelling, “Get out of 

here!”

Bakon looked at Squeals in disbelief as the horse ran 

away. “What did you do that for? We could have sold it! 

Or maybe the message was on it!”

Squeals’ head slumped in submission. “Oh—sorry, 

Bakon. Wasn’t thinking.”

Bore also shook his head. “No thinking, Squeals. No 

thinking,” he said, tapping the side of his head. Squeals 

gave Bore a look that put him in his place.

Bakon quickly calmed himself down. “She won’t go 

far. Just … don’t do that next time.” He then turned to the 

messenger. “So, Monsieur …” he started, trying to 

remember the messenger’s name.

The messenger glared up from his forced kneeling 

position, his arms pinned by the two huge brothers. “My 

name is LeLoup. This is an insult! I will have you—”

Bakon waved at the man to stop talking. “What is it 

you want out of this? Do you want to hand over the 

message? Or maybe you’d like to hand over your gold and

the message? I couldn’t blame you if you wanted to do 

that, now, could I?”

The two brothers nodded in agreement.

“I’d like for you to drop dead!” spat LeLoup. 

Suddenly, Bakon fell over—flat on his face.

Bore and Squeals looked at each other in a panic and 

screamed, “Aaah! Magic!” They ran off into the forest.

Tee reloaded her slingshot and jumped out of the 

bushes. “La-la!” she yelled triumphantly. “Run away, little 

piggies!” She quickly scanned the forest for more trouble. 

Once she confirmed no one else was lurking, she 

lowered her slingshot and approached the messenger. He 

was angrily talking to himself.

Tee pointed to the face-down elder Cochon brother and 

said, “He’ll be up in a minute. The stones I use only stun 

for a couple of minutes at most.”

The messenger finished brushing himself off. He 

scrutinized Tee, in her yellow hooded cloak, white blouse, 

and light brown pants. He wrinkled his nose at how 

boyishly she dressed.

“So, you are the one who knocked out the ruffian?” he 

asked.

“Tee, Yellow Hood of the forest, at your service,” she 

replied, bowing. Andre shook his head slightly at her lack 

of a curtsey.

“I am Andre LeLoup. A pleasure to meet you,” he said 

stiffly. “Thank you for your assistance. I thought I’d seen a 

flash of yellow in the distance. I didn’t realize it was a 

person. Never mind—you are my little savior, are you 

not?” He offered an appreciative smile. “But, if you don’t 

mind, I’d prefer to keep this between us. It won’t help my 

reputation for people to learn that I was helped by a little 

girl in a yellow hood.”

Tee smiled. “You know your name means wolf, right?”

“Of course I know that,” he replied firmly. He found 

his hat and dusted it off.

Tee leaned in. “And … you were just assaulted by the 

Cochon brothers,” she said, nodding knowingly.

Andre looked about to see if any of his other 

belongings had fallen to the ground during the 

commotion. “Oh—was that their name?”

Tee giggled.

“What is it?” asked Andre, turning to her, annoyed.

Tee pulled her hood over her face. “Nothing—it’s just, 

you know … never mind.” She finished her giggling and 

took a deep breath. “Okay—sorry. So, where are you trying 

to go?”

Andre put his hat on and then straightened his 

mustache. “I am sorry. I appreciate your assistance, but it’s 

official business and I can’t say. Now, do you think I have 

any chance of finding my horse, or should I continue into 

town on foot?”

Tee looked around to get her bearings. “I’m sure we 

can find her. She probably went over to the nearby 

clearing. This road leads there. It’s only about five minutes 

if we take the shortcut.”

Bakon started to make noises and moved a hand to rub 

the back of his head.

“We should go—now,” Tee whispered. She grabbed 

Andre by the hand and led him into the thick forest.

Book Two (The BreadCrumb Trail)

In an act of desperation, inventor Maxwell Watt sends his teenage son to Nikolas Klaus with the secret plans for his steam engine. The Fare, a nefarious secret society, learns of the game-changing invention and accelerate their timeline to neutralize Klaus and reclaim control over the kingdoms. 

While wars spark to the south, children in Mineau have started to go missing—again. Captain Archambault suspects the return of the Ginger Lady. With the help of the Yellow Hoods and their friends, the search is on to find the missing children before it is too late. 

What is the secret that ties the Yellow Hoods to the Ginger Lady? Who are the Red Hoods really? 

Enjoy this darker, edgier installment in this exciting Emergent Steampunk adventure series that is laced with elements of fairy-tale that gives it depth. A young adult series that is layered for the mature reader. 

“A beautifully spun tale in a unique and captivating world.”

Check out a video reading by The Book Nymph Here!

Enter the Giveaway!

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Guest Post by, CP Mandara **Writing Process**

Tell us, C.P., what is your writing process?

I guess I started reading erotica at around the age of 13, where I’d somehow sneakily managed to get my hands on a copy of Anne Rice’s (or A. N. Roquelaure as I think she was known then) ‘The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty.’ From then on I had a love affair with all things BDSM and spanking. It took me considerably longer to put pen to paper and write something naughty down, though.

I’ve always enjoyed writing. I have half-finished stories of sci-fi drama, romance and vampires all over the house. My trouble was that I never finished them. When I finally finished my first romance and managed to put 50,000 words down on paper, I contacted two publishers who immediately (well, not really immediately – one took over six months to get back to me!) sent me letters of rejection. Heavily pregnant at the time, I remember bursting into tears and refusing to write another word.

A few years later I decided to write something really naughty. I was 36,000ft up in the air, on a long-haul flight that dragged over 13 hours and as the battery on my iPod had died, I needed something to fill the time. The beginnings of ‘The Riding School’ were born. I didn’t think there was a publisher alive who would take it on as my ‘Pony Tales’ series crosses just about every box that the traditional publisher wants ticked. For starters, they are non-consensual and if that isn’t enough, the story features niche ‘pony-girl’ erotica, which most people have never heard of. Anyway, I submitted the story to another two publishers and low and behold, Chimera Books came back and said YES!

From there on in, I’ve had a whale of a time. Writing erotica is marvellous fun, reading for research is even better and when the occasional scene calls for a bit of ‘hands on’ investigation – well, who am I to refuse? Note – playing with riding crops is great fun, playing with chilli and ginger not such great fun LOL.

So my advice to anyone who would like to get their own book published? Perseverance. Believe in yourself, never give up, read avariciously and you’ll get there in the end :)

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Rise of the Flame K.N. Lee **Cover Reveal**

K.N. Lee is an award-winning author that resides in Charlotte, North Carolina. When she is not writing twisted sales, fantasy novels, and dark poetry, she does a great deal of traveling and promotes other authors. Wannabe rock-star, foreign language enthusiast, and anime geek, K.N. Lee also enjoys helping others reach their writing and publishing goals.

Her works include, The Chronicles of Koa: Netherworld, Dark Prophet, A Gifted Curse, Wicked Webs, Empty Your Heart, Pixie Dust, and the paranormal collection of short stories, Thicker Than Blood. Her short fantasy story, The Last of the Jinn, is in the anthology, A World of Worlds and The Ticking Ring is in A World of Joy by ASMSG authors.

Author, K.N. Lee loves hearing from fans and readers. Connect with her!

www.Kn-Lee.com

www.WriteLikeAWizard.com

www.Facebook.com/knycolelee

www.twitter.com/knycole_lee

Rise of the Flame

K.N. Lee

There are six races, four realms, and one human girl who can bring them together in peace...or war.

Lilae has been hunted since the night of her birth. She is the only heir to the human god's throne.

For centuries the races have been separated by an ancient barrier. Now that the barrier is crumbling and vanishing, the races are once again pitted against one another.

Who will rule? Which races will survive? Will Lilae give up her chance for the throne to save the race of the man she loves?

Coming January 2015 to

Amazon & Kn-Lee.com

Rise of the Flame

Book One of the Eura Chronicles

K.N. Lee

Prologue

Even in the lowest levels of the Aurorian palace, where the servants slept, the castle staff sat up and listened to the queen’s cries of pain. No one wanted her to die. She was only the fourth queen of the Black Throne and yet she was the most loved.

King Torek paced the dim, narrow corridor; the only light came from the brass torches placed against the stone walls. His brow furrowed as he waited for his summons.

He wondered if it was wise of them to try for a second child. He was growing older and weaker. But one son wasn’t enough of a legacy for an Aurorian king. Torek had grown up with four brothers and seven sisters. It was a shame that he hadn’t sired more children in his long lifetime. King Torek had four wives and only one son.

It was too late for doubts. They were twenty hours into labor and either the child would finally come or both the baby and the mother would die.

King Torek finally sat down on the carpeted corridor’s floor in exhaustion. His legs were tired from standing. Sweat ran down his balding scalp.

“Do you need anything, sire?”

King Torek waved the young guard away as one last scream, more agonizing than the rest, broke him from his thoughts. The sound itself, in its clarity, sent a shiver up his spine. Torek drew a fearful breath and waited. His body was tense and rigid. After a few moments of complete silence, the short midwife opened the doors to Queen Sysil’s quarters and ushered him inside.

The air inside the room was thick and steamy, the candlelight dim; it bathed the room in a faint orange glow. The smell of blood and sweat invaded his nostrils, so he covered his nose with his long velvet sleeve.

King Torek noticed his young wife sprawled motionless on the bed. “Is she all right?” A look of worry creased his aging face.

Queen Sysil’s eyes seemed sealed shut from tears of pain. Her scarlet hair was in disarray and sweat beaded her pale face. Her chest rose slightly and fell, and he sighed in relief.

The midwife nodded. “She’s only resting.” Her aged eyes seemed to hold something more.

“Where’s the child?” His dark eyes roamed the room. There were no screams or cries from the baby.

The midwife pointed a chubby finger to the small bassinet at the queen’s bedside. The midwife’s aide stepped aside timidly, careful to avoid eye contact as the king towered over them on his path to the baby.

An attendant wiped the sweat from the queen’s face with a cool rag. Sysil’s lips trembled. “I am sorry that it is a girl. We can try again, if it is your desire.”

If only they had time to try again. Sysil was only twenty-two, but Torek was nearly seventy, and his body reminded him of his mortality every day. Two children would have to do.

“A baby girl?” To everyone’s surprise, Torek smiled.

He looked in at the daughter who seemed so calm and peaceful. He picked her up, and his thoughts of having another boy vanished as he stared at her appealing, yet eerie beauty.

            The girl was tiny, with a head full of short, curly hair. It was odd; he’d never seen anyone with hair that shade of red before. It was so bright, that it seemed to have traces of gold throughout.

The king’s body tensed as though under a spell, when his daughter looked up into his eyes. Under long, thick golden lashes were eyes of a rich, bluish green. He gasped, almost dropping her, when a faint flicker of light moved deeply within them. The child yawned so innocently, her little mouth opening in a perfect circle, before she closed her eyes to sleep.

“Do not look too deeply into the child's eyes.”

“She’s bewitched,” one of the attendants whispered.

Torek turned and looked at the midwife; one of his bushy white eyebrows rose in search of answers. The queen’s attendants avoided his eyes as they busied themselves with cleaning the room of the blood-soaked rags.

The babe did indeed resemble the queen as far as her hair color; however, her blue-green eyes were rare and unsettling. Though many humans of the North had special traits, there was something more to this girl.

Torek already felt a deep love for the child, his baby girl. He gently hugged her close to him.

“Let me hold her, your grace.” The midwife held her arms out, her small eyes never leaving the baby.

 “My king, what is wrong?” Sysil weakly tried to sit up in the bed. Her face paled even more when she saw Torek’s smile fade.

The child’s eyes…did that thing again, flickering with light. Torek swallowed hard, fearing that something was wrong. He watched as the midwife examined the baby, the room full of tension.

Heavy boots trampling down the corridor broke the silence. The door burst open and the captain of the palace guards, Pirin, charged into the room.

“What is going on?”

Pirin pointed to the midwife. “Get the child from that woman! She is a witch.” Pirin looked to the king and spoke quickly. “We found the real midwife’s body in the stables.” He glared at the woman who stood there with the princess in her arms.

There was a collective gasp from the aides.

“I’ve been called many things over the centuries, but never a witch.”

Torek’s heart raced as he watched the midwife transform to a woman of a younger age. He stepped back, startled. His jaw hung open as his eyes searched her face. Torek balled up his fists as the rage filled his veins.

She did look evil with her black hair and pale skin. Her blue eyes looked at him without fear and that made his anger intensify. She stood there holding his beloved daughter.

“I assure you,” she said, “I am Delia, Elder and gatekeeper of the Underworld. Not even a witch is safe from my power. Now, lower your weapons, and listen to me.”

“Sorcery! Seize her!”

 Delia shook her head, gripping the baby close to her chest. “I have not come to harm the child.” She raised a hand as if to calm them, meeting all of their eyes.

“Seize her!” The soldiers charged for her.

The calamity and uproar upset the wee princess, who wailed into the air.

“Silence!” With a flick of her small hand, Delia seemed to rip their voices right from their throats. It was so sudden and immobilizing that no one could even scream. The room was flooded by light and all sound was sucked away. When she lowered her hand, everyone was frozen in place like statues.

Delia slumped onto a chair, as though exhausted from her sudden burst of energy. She looked down at the child whose cry was the only sound heard in the room. She sighed and gently rubbed the girl’s tiny hand, as if to soothe her.

“I warned you,” Delia said, shaking her head. “You people think you know everything don’t you? You know nothing. I have come a long, long way to help you humans.”

Torek watched as Delia gazed into his daughter’s eyes. He saw the woman’s body shiver and knew that she, too, saw the light flicker there.

“The Ancients have asked me to protect this child, and as an Elder, I am more qualified than any of you to help her fulfill her destiny.”

The veins in Torek’s neck strained as he watched the woman cradling his daughter. Elder or not, he wanted to break free from the hold she had on all of them, and wring her neck.

“I cannot begin to explain how important this little girl is, nor do I have the time. But you must understand. It is too dangerous to keep her here. There are dangers for her, and she is a danger to you.”

She reached inside her leather side-purse for a clear vial of blue liquid. When she opened the cask, a slight cloud of frost escaped. Torek watched as Delia drank a tiny sip; she squeezed her eyes shut and breathed deeply, as if waiting for something to happen. Finally, she stood.

“Listen, Torek. You should be glad that I arrived first.” She wrapped the baby in a blanket and secured her to a sling upon her chest. “I don’t have the time to explain everything, but you have to know that others will come, if the child stays here. You have to trust me.”

Delia was asking the impossible of Torak and Sysil; he wasn’t sure he could give up his newly born daughter, even if it was absolutely necessary.

“Our world is about to change,” Delia said. “There are beings who would seek to kill the princess and destroy your kingdom. Understand that I will protect her, train her, and prepare her for the time when she will be called upon to save our world. She has one of the most difficult tasks of all ahead of her, and I will make sure she is safe until that time comes.”

Delia looked toward the captain of the guards; he was tall like most Aurorians and very well built. “Pirin is it?” His eyes widened. “I shall take you with me. Lilae will need training, and”—she looked him over—“you will do.”

Delia released Pirin from his frozen state, and he fell to the floor. His hair was so blond that it was nearly white, and it fell into his eyes as he looked up at her. He winced as he began to move his limbs, as if shaking out pins and needles. He stretched his arms and picked up his sword.

“What do you mean, ‘will do?’” Pirin frowned at her, furrowing his thin eyebrows. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“Do you understand that you have been chosen to join the child and me?”

Torek looked around at the others, whose eyes were now glazed over; he sensed that they were no longer aware of what was occurring.

“Why?” Pirin asked. “You’re still an enemy as far as I’m concerned. I know you have power. I’ve seen that. But try to harm the king and queen and I will find a way to kill you.”

Delia blinked at him and sighed. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but in time the Ancients will reveal to you what I have seen.”

Pirin stood there, as if unsure about what to do. He glanced at the king.

Torek knew that if the Ancients, the creators of the races who populated the world, put their trust in this woman, then she must be an important person and one to listen to. The king tried to nod in Pirin’s direction, though he was still pinned still from Delia’s powers.

“You’re obviously not from Auroria,” Pirin reasoned, his eyes grazing over her dark hair. “You don’t have our pure blood, nor fair hair and light eyes.” Though Delia’s eyes were blue, they were dark, like the ocean at night. “But you haven’t come all of this way just to kill the child, either.”

Delia nodded. “I have not, Pirin. But there are those who would come from afar, to do just that.”

“Then why have you come?”

“As I said, I wish to protect the child from those with power, who would use it to kill her. She is a weapon that if in the wrong hands, could cause great harm to this world.”

“You are really an Elder?” Pirin remained calm, looking at the woman who claimed to once rule the Underworld.

Delia gave a single nod. “I am.”

Pirin frowned. “You don’t look like an Elder.”

Delia raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever seen an Elder?”

He shook his head.

“Good. And you don’t want to see me in my true form.” She watched his face. “Pirin, look at me.”

He glanced up at her.

“I will tell you everything you need to know after we are far from danger.”

“What danger?”

Delia shook her head. “I don’t think you are quite ready to know such things,” she said. “But in time, I will tell you.”

Though Pirin’s stance looked imposing, his eyes filled with worry. “I need more than that, Elder. I have a wife and two little girls. What will become of them? Who will protect them if I come with you and the princess?”

“Bring them,” Delia said without hesitation. “We will give this child a family, and protect her until her time has come.”

“Do I have a choice?”

She nodded. “You do. But wouldn’t you still be serving your king and queen by protecting their daughter?”

Pirin looked up. “Yes, but I’d be putting my twin daughters in harm’s way.”

Delia lifted her shoulders. “Are there any other soldiers who could do as good of a job in protecting and training the princess as you?”

He shook his head.

“And wouldn’t it be wise to keep your family close, to protect and train them as you would the princess?”

Pirin looked back at his men. They were still frozen.

“I know your secret, Pirin…”

His face lost what little color it had when his eyes lifted to hers. “What?”

Delia sighed. “You heard me.”

He shifted from one foot to another. “What do you think you know?”

“I know everything.” There was a tense silence between them, as she watched him with a straight face. “So, are you coming or not?”

“I'll do it.”

Delia nodded, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips. “Are you doing it because I know all of your secrets, or because you want to?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Everyone has secrets. I care about the child. You have given me a chance to protect her, and I accept.”

She nodded, as if pleased by his answer. “Well said. I see much good in you, Pirin. You will go down in history for your part in this.”

Pirin put his sword away and looked at the queen, whose tears were trailing down her face. “I don’t care about history. I only care about this child and my own. If what you say is true about danger heading this way, then we’d better get going.”

Pirin crossed the room and wiped the queen’s face. He leaned down and whispered something to her. Pirin unhooked Sysil’s silver necklace and balled it into his fist.

Delia narrowed her eyes and asked, “What exactly are you doing?”

Pirin turned, his hazel eyes wet. “For the princess. She will need a token from her mother. It’s the least we can do, isn’t it?”

“Very fitting.” Delia nodded, staring at the necklace for a moment before putting her hand across the baby’s face. Instantaneously, the little girl fell asleep.

“One more question, Elder.”

“Call me Delia, please,” she replied to Pirin.

He nodded, dropping the necklace into his pocket. “Fine…Delia.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, and asked, “Why me?”

Delia pulled on her cloak and covered the girl’s head, holding her snuggly against her chest. She walked toward the door, but glanced back at Pirin, an eerie smile on her pale face.

“It was always you, Pirin. Coincidences don’t just happen. We have all been chosen, so long ago that the world has forgotten. We cannot escape our fate; not when the entire world is at stake.”