Neferata (Time of Legends)

Neferata (Time of Legends)

Josh Reynolds

Language: English

Pages: 416

ISBN: 1849702144

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


The start of a new Time of Legends story arc featuring mummies

Neferata is a queen without a kingdom. Lahmia has fallen, her vampire children have scattered and she is reduced to draining blood from the beasts of the mountains. After a chance encounter with a party of dwarfs, she sets her sights on a capital for her new empire – the stronghold of Silver Pinnacle. She calls her allies to battle – but can she truly trust Ushoran, Lord of Masks, and his bestial Strigoi vampires?

The Seventh Bride

Herald of the Storm

Empire in Black and Gold (Shadows of the Apt, Book 1)

Nest of Serpents (Wereworld)

The Enchantment Emporium

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Silence, Grund. I asked how he died,’ Borri said hollowly. Grund fell silent, glaring at her. ‘As a result of treachery,’ she said plainly. ‘Whose?’ Borri said, his fingers curling almost protectively over the haft of the axe. ‘My lord Ushoran’s,’ Neferata said. ‘He struck down Razek and his followers.’ ‘As the runes foretold,’ the old dwarf wheezed, his knuckles popping as he tightened his grip on his hammer. ‘Razek’s doom was writ long ago. This he knew.’ Borri gave a

Arkhan said nothing, waiting for her to continue. She sniffed. ‘This is my place of power, liche. Not yours and certainly not Nagash’s. He is old and brittle and not what he once was–’ ‘He is more,’ Arkhan interjected. Neferata paused. ‘Perhaps… The fact remains, he holds no power here.’ ‘He will not accept that,’ Arkhan said, looming over her. Neferata gazed up at him, unconcerned. ‘He will have to,’ she said, rising, still holding the cat. ‘Neferata serves no man, whether

amplified into feral beauty. ‘And how are the gods, Iona? Are they satisfied with their offerings?’ ‘So their priestesses assure me, mistress,’ Iona said, curling a lock of fiery red hair around one pale finger. ‘The sangzye is collected without comment. Our people place little value on blood,’ she added, shrugging. Neferata smiled in satisfaction. The transplantation of the Nehekharan cults had taken close to thirty years of effort on her part; something to keep her interested during her

through the air like leaves caught in a wind. It was as if something were calling all of the dead of the world north. Neferata’s flesh writhed on her bones, as if it wanted to give in to the call. She took a step and then another. ‘There! There is the witch causing this!’ a voice bellowed. Neferata tried to focus through the blood. Al-Khattab galloped towards her, his impressively moustachioed face split in a self-righteous snarl. He swung up a sword. Soldiers followed, carrying weapons

figure dropped down beside it, cleaving through its shoulder and chest. Naaima spun, jerking her sword free of the dying beast and bringing it crashing around into the neck of another. She danced among them for a moment, leaving carnage in her wake, before she sprang to Neferata’s side, blood coating her bare, pale arms to the shoulders. ‘They smell foul and taste worse, I’d wager,’ she hissed, her dark eyes narrowing. ‘Needs must, when the gods demand, Naaima,’ Neferata said, bringing

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