A Dream of Mortals (Book #15 in the Sorcerer's Ring)

BOOK: A Dream of Mortals (Book #15 in the Sorcerer's Ring)
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A  
d
r e a m
   O
F  
m o r t a
l s

 

 

(Book #15 in the Sorcerer’s Ring)

 

 

 

Morgan Rice

 

About Morgan Rice

 

 

Morgan
Rice is the #1 bestselling author of THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS, a young adult series
comprising eleven books (and counting); the #1 bestselling series THE SURVIVAL
TRILOGY, a post-apocalyptic thriller comprising two books (and counting); and
the #1 bestselling epic fantasy series THE SORCERER’S RING, comprising fifteen
books (and counting).

 

Morgan’s
books are available in audio and print editions, and translations of the books
are available in German, French, Italian, Spanish, Portugese, Japanese,
Chinese, Swedish, Dutch, Turkish, Hungarian, Czech and Slovak (with more
languages forthcoming).

 

TURNED
(Book #1 in the
Vampire Journals),
ARENA
ONE
(Book #1 of the Survival Trilogy), and
A QUEST OF
HEROES
(Book #1 in the Sorcerer’s Ring) are each available as a free download on
Amazon!

 

Morgan
loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit
www.morganricebooks.com
to join the
email list, receive a free book, receive free giveaways, download the free app,
get the latest exclusive news, connect on Facebook and Twitter, and stay in
touch!

Select Acclaim
for Morgan Rice

 

“A
spirited fantasy that weaves elements of mystery and intrigue into its story
line.
A Quest of Heroes
is all about the making of courage and about
realizing a life purpose that leads to growth, maturity, and excellence….For
those seeking meaty fantasy adventures, the protagonists, devices, and action
provide a vigorous set of encounters that focus well on Thor's evolution from a
dreamy child to a young adult facing impossible odds for survival….Only the
beginning of what promises to be an epic young adult series.”

Midwest
Book Review
(D.
Donovan, eBook Reviewer)

 

“THE
SORCERER’S RING has all the ingredients for an instant success: plots,
counterplots, mystery, valiant knights, and blossoming relationships replete
with broken hearts, deception and betrayal. It will keep you entertained for
hours, and will satisfy all ages. Recommended for the permanent library of all
fantasy readers.”

--
Books
and Movie Reviews
, Roberto Mattos

 

“Rice’s
entertaining epic fantasy [THE SORCERER’S RING] includes classic traits of the
genre—a strong setting, highly inspired by ancient Scotland and its history,
and a good sense of court intrigue.”


Kirkus
Reviews
“I loved how Morgan Rice built Thor’s character
and the world in which he lived. The landscape and the creatures that roamed it
were very well described…I enjoyed [the plot]. It was short and sweet….There
were just the right amount of minor characters, so I didn’t get confused. There
were adventures and harrowing moments, but the action depicted wasn’t overly
grotesque. The book would be perfect for a teen reader… The beginnings of
something remarkable are there…”
--San Francisco Book Review
“In this action-packed first book in the epic fantasy Sorcerer's Ring
series (which is currently 14 books strong), Rice introduces readers to
14-year-old Thorgrin "Thor" McLeod, whose dream is to join the Silver
Legion, the elite knights who serve the king…. Rice's writing is solid and the
premise intriguing.”
--Publishers Weekly

 

“[A
QUEST OF HEROES] is a quick and easy read. The ends of chapters make it so that
you have to read what happens next and you don’t want to put it down. There are
some typos in the book and some names are messed up, but this does not distract
from the overall story. The end of the book made me want to get the next book
immediately and that is what I did. All nine of the Sorcerer’s Ring series can
currently be purchased on the Kindle store and A Quest of Heroes is currently
free to get you started! If you are looking for a something quick and fun to
read while on vacation this book will do nicely.”

--FantasyOnline.net

Books by Morgan Rice

 

THE SORCERER’S RING
A
QUEST OF HEROES (Book #1)
A MARCH OF KINGS (Book #2)

A FATE OF DRAGONS (Book #3)

A CRY OF HONOR (Book #4)

A VOW OF GLORY (Book #5)
A CHARGE OF VALOR (Book #6)
A RITE OF SWORDS (Book #7)

A GRANT OF ARMS (Book #8)
A SKY OF SPELLS (Book #9)

A SEA OF SHIELDS (Book #10)
A REIGN OF STEEL (Book #11)
A LAND OF FIRE (Book #12)
A RULE OF QUEENS (Book #13)
AN OATH OF BROTHERS (Book #14)
A DREAM OF MORTALS (Book #15)

 

THE SURVIVAL TRILOGY
ARENA ONE: SLAVERSUNNERS (Book #1)
ARENA TWO (Book #2)

 

THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS

TURNED (Book #1)

LOVED (Book #2)
BETRAYED (Book #3)

DESTINED (Book #4)

DESIRED (Book #5)
BETROTHED (Book #6)

VOWED (Book #7)

FOUND (Book #8)

RESURRECTED (Book #9)
CRAVED (Book #10)
FATED (Book #11)

 

Listen
to THE SORCERER’S RING series in
audio book format!

 

Now
available on:

Amazon

Audible

iTunes

Copyright
© 2014 by Morgan Rice

All
rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no
part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any
form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the
prior permission of the author.

This
ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for
your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for
respecting the hard work of this author.

This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places,
events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are
used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

Jacket
image Copyright Isoga, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Gwendolyn slowly opened her eyes, caked with
sand, the effort taking all of her strength. She could only open them a sliver,
and she squinted out at a world that was blurry, filled with sunlight. Somewhere
up above, the glaring desert suns shone down, creating a world that blinded her
with white. Gwen did not know if she were dead or alive—she suspected the
latter.

Blinded by the light, Gwen was too weak to turn
her head left or right.
Was this what it was like
, she wondered,
to
be dead
?

Suddenly, a shadow was cast over her face, and
she blinked to see a black hood above her, obscuring the face of a small
creature, its face hidden in darkness. All Gwen could see were its beady yellow
eyes, staring down at her, examining her as if she were some object lost on the
desert floor. It made a strange squeaking noise, and Gwen realized it was
speaking in a language she did not understand.

There came a shuffling of feet, a small cloud
of dust, and two more of these creatures appeared over her, faces covered with
black hoods, all their eyes aglow, brighter than the sun. They squeaked, seeming
to communicate with one another. Gwen could not tell what sort of creatures
they were, and she wondered once again if she were alive, or if this were all a
dream. Was it another one of the hallucinations she’d suffered during these
past days in the desert heat?

Gwen felt a poke on her shoulder, and she
opened her eyes again to see one of the creatures reaching down with its staff
and jabbing her, presumably testing to see if she were still alive. Gwen wanted
to reach up and swat it away, annoyed—but was too weak for even that. She
welcomed the sensation, though; it made her feel that maybe, just maybe, she
was alive after all.

Gwen suddenly felt long, thin claws wrap around
her wrists, her arms, and felt herself being picked up, hoisted onto some sort
of cloth, perhaps a canvas. She felt herself being dragged across the desert
floor, sliding backwards beneath the sun. She had no idea if she were being
dragged off to her death, but she was too weak to care. She looked up and saw the
world go by, the sky bouncing as she did, the suns as blazing hot and brilliant
as ever. She had never felt so weak or dehydrated in her life; each breath felt
as if she were breathing fire.

Gwen suddenly felt a cold liquid run down her
lips, and she saw one of the creatures leaning over her, pouring water from a
sack. It took all of her energy just to manage to stick out her tongue. The
cool water trickled down her throat, and it felt as if she were swallowing fire.
She hadn’t realized her throat could become this dry.

Gwendolyn drank greedily, relieved that at
least these creatures were friendly. The creature, though, stopped pouring after
a few seconds, pulling back the sack.

“More,” Gwen tried to whisper—but the words
wouldn’t come out, her voice still too raspy.

Gwen continued to be dragged and she tried to
muster the energy to break free, to reach out and grab that sack, to drink all
the water that was in there. But she did not have the energy to even lift an
arm.

Gwen was dragged and dragged, her legs and feet
hitting bumps and rocks beneath, and it seemed to go on forever. After a while
she could no longer tell how much time had passed. It felt like days. The only
sound she heard was that of the desert wind ripping through, carrying more dust
and heat.

Gwen felt more cold water on her lips, and
drank more this time, until it was pulled away. She opened her eyes a bit further,
and as she saw the creature pull it away, she realized that he was feeding her
slowly so as not to give her too much at once. The water trickling down her
throat did not feel quite as harsh this time, and she felt the hydration
rushing to her veins. She realized how desperately she needed it.

“Please,” Gwen said, “more.”

The creature, instead, poured some water over
her face, her eyes, and the cool water felt so refreshing as it trickled down her
hot skin. It took some of the dust off of her eyelids, and she was able to open
them a bit more—enough to at least see what was happening.

All around her Gwen saw more of these
creatures, dozens of them, shuffling along the desert floor in their black
cloaks and hoods, speaking amongst themselves with strange squeaking noises.
She looked over just enough to see them carrying several more bodies, and she
felt an immense sense of relief to recognize the bodies of Kendrick, Sandara, Aberthol,
Brandt, Atme, Illepra, the baby, Steffen, Arliss, several Silver, and Krohn—perhaps
a dozen or so in all. They were all being dragged alongside her, and Gwen couldn’t
tell if they were alive or dead. From the way they all lay, all so limp, she
could only assume they were dead.

Her heart sank, and Gwen prayed to God that
wasn’t the case. Yet she was pessimistic. After all, who could have survived out
here? She was still not entirely sure that
she
had survived.

As she continued to be dragged, Gwen closed her
eyes, and when she opened them again, she realized that she had fallen asleep.
She did not know how much more time had passed, but it was now late in the day,
the two suns low in the sky. She was still being dragged. She wondered who
these creatures were; she assumed them to be desert nomads of some sort, perhaps
some tribe who had somehow managed to survive out here. She wondered how they’d
found her, where they were taking her. On the one hand, she was so grateful
that they had saved her life; on the other, who knew if they were taking her to
be killed? To be a meal for the tribe?

Either way, she was too weak and exhausted to
do anything about it.

Gwen opened her eyes, she did not know how much
later, startled by a rustling sound. At first it sounded like a distant thorn bush
whirling across the desert floor. But as the sound grew louder, more incessant,
she knew it was something else. It sounded like a sandstorm. A raging,
incessant sandstorm.

As they neared it and the people carrying her
turned, Gwen looked over and was afforded a view unlike any she had ever seen. It
was a view that made her stomach churn, especially as she realized they were
approaching it: there, perhaps fifty feet away, was a wall of raging sand,
rising right up into the sky, so high she could not see if it had an end. The
wind blew violently through it, like a contained tornado, and the sand churned violently
in the air, so thick she could not see through it.

They headed right for this wall of raging sand,
the noise so loud it was deafening, and she wondered why. It seemed like they
were approaching instant death.

“Turn back!” Gwen tried to say.

But her voice was hoarse, too weak for anyone
to hear, especially over the wind. She doubted they’d listen to her, even if
they had heard her.

Gwen began to feel the sand scraping her skin
as they neared the churning sand wall, and suddenly two creatures approached
her and draped a long, heavy sheet over her, draping it over her body, covering
her face. She realized they were shielding her.

A moment later, Gwen found herself in a violent
wall of churning sand.

As they entered it, the noise was so loud, Gwen
felt as if she would go deaf, and she wondered how she could possibly survive
this. Gwen realized right away that this canvas over her was saving her; it protected
her face and skin from being torn apart by the raging wall of sand. The nomads marched
on, their heads down low against the sand wall, as if they had done this many
times before. They continued to yank her through it, and as the sand raged all around
her, and Gwen wondered if it would ever have an end.

Then, finally, there came silence. Sweet, sweet
silence, like she had never savored before. Two nomads removed the canvas from
her, and Gwen saw they had cleared the sand wall, had emerged out the other
side. But the other side of what? she wondered.

Finally, the dragging came to a stop and as it
did, all Gwen’s questions were answered. They set her down gently, and she lay
there, unmoving, looking up at the sky. She blinked several times, trying to
comprehend the sight before her.

Slowly, the view before her came into focus. She
saw an impossibly high wall made of rock, climbing hundreds of feet into the
clouds. The wall stretched in all directions, disappearing into the horizon. At
the top of these towering cliffs, Gwen saw ramparts, fortifications, and atop
them, thousands of knights wearing armor that shone in the sun.

She could not understand. How could they be
here? she wondered. Knights, in the middle of the desert? Where had they taken
her?

Then suddenly, with a jolt, she knew. Her heart
beat faster as she suddenly realized they had found it, had made it here, all
the way across the Great Waste.

It existed, after all.

The Second Ring.

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