The Warded Man: Book One of The Demon Cycle

The Warded Man: Book One of The Demon Cycle

Peter V. Brett

Language: English

Pages: 480

ISBN: 0345518705

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

As darkness falls after sunset, the corelings rise—demons who possess supernatural powers and burn with a consuming hatred of humanity. For hundreds of years the demons have terrorized the night, slowly culling the human herd that shelters behind magical wards—symbols of power whose origins are lost in myth and whose protection is terrifyingly fragile. It was not always this way. Once, men and women battled the corelings on equal terms, but those days are gone. Night by night the demons grow stronger, while human numbers dwindle under their relentless assault. Now, with hope for the future fading, three young survivors of vicious demon attacks will dare the impossible, stepping beyond the crumbling safety of the wards to risk everything in a desperate quest to regain the secrets of the past. Together, they will stand against the night.

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Arlen looked at him a moment, and nodded. “You take care of yourself, Jaik,” he said, mounting Dawn Runner. “When will you be back?” Jaik asked. Arlen shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, looking toward the city gates. “Maybe never.” Elissa and Mery returned to the manse later that morning, to wait for Arlen’s return. “Don’t give in too easily,” Elissa advised as they walked. “You don’t want to give all your power away. Make him fight for you, or he’ll never understand what you’re worth.” “Do

had driven him to this existence, scarring himself and shunning his own kind for the company of corelings? She found herself aching to heal him, though he showed no hurt. Suddenly, the man shook his head as if to clear it, startling Leesha from her reverie. He pointed off into the darkness. “Look,” he whispered. “They’re dancing.” Leesha looked out in amazement, for indeed, the corelings had ceased to test the wards, had ceased even to hiss and shriek. They circled the camp, swaying in time to

surely as if they had run into a brick wall. As the magic flared brightly and hurled them back into the yard, Harl rushed into the house. He slammed and bolted the door, throwing his back against the portal. “Creator be praised,” he said weakly, panting and pale. The air inside Harl’s farmhouse was thick and hot, stinking of must and waste. The buggy reeds on the floor absorbed some of the water that made it past the thatch, but they were far from fresh. Two dogs and several cats shared the

is it?” Arrick asked, turning back to him with a scowl. “Do you sing, too?” Rojer asked. “I like singing.” “Perhaps I will sing for you later,” Arrick said, turning away again. “Oh give him a little song,” Kally begged, putting a foaming mug on the counter before him. “It would make him so happy.” She smiled, but Arrick’s eyes had already drifted down to the top button of her dress, which had mysteriously come undone while she fetched his mug. “Of course,” Arrick said, smiling brightly. “Just

page, flipping it over and looking over the back, as well. She was on to the second sheet before she found what she was looking for. “A boy,” Leesha said, “ten years old. Brought into the hospit by his mother, complaining of nausea and weakness. No other symptoms or history of illness. Given grimroot, water, and bed rest. Symptoms increased over three days, with the addition of rash on arms, legs, and chest. Grimroot raised to three ounces over the course of several days. “Symptoms worsened,

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