A Chorus of Fire is the second installment of the Sorcerer's Song fantasy adventure series from Brian D. Anderson, bestselling author of The Godling Chronicles and Dragonvein.
A shadow has moved across Lamoria. Whispers of the coming conflict are growing louder; the enemy becoming bolder. Belkar's reach has extended far into the heart of Ralmarstad and war now seems inevitable.
Mariyah, clinging to the hope of one day being reunited with Lem, struggles to attain the power she will need to make the world safe again. But a power like this is not easily acquired and will test the limits of her mind and body. She will need to look deep inside herself to find the strength to achieve what even the Thaumas of old could not.
Lem continues his descent into darkness, serving a man he does not trust in the name of a faith which is not his own. Only Shemi keeps his heart from succumbing to despair, along with the knowledge that he has finally found Mariyah. But Lem is convinced she is being held against her will, and compelled to do the bidding of her captors. He is determined to free her, regardless the cost.
Their separate roads are leading them to the same destination. And once they arrive they will have to confront more than the power of Belkar. They will have to face themselves and what Lamoria has forced them to become.
A Macmillan Audio production from Tor Books
Release date:
August 11, 2020
Publisher:
Tom Doherty Associates
Print pages:
432
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With patience comes wisdom. Through wisdom, peace.
Nivanian Proverb
Hundreds of finger-thin, translucent yellow and blue ribbons frolicked around the edge of the dance floor, in cadence with the importunate thrumming of the orchestra, an elite group who frequently played for monarchs and nobles across Lamoria, brought in from Lytonia at tremendous expense. Silver-winged fairies in flowing white gowns, no more than an inch tall, flitted playfully among the elegantly attired dancers who spun about, joyous smiles on their lips as the magic of the décor gave the ballroom a dreamlike quality of some otherworldly place that could only exist in the realm of the imagination. Above shone a star-strewn sky, streaked with wisps of silver that glowed with a pale light before being carried swiftly away on a high wind. Below stretched the flat desert sands of the legendary Maldonian Expanse, every inch peppered with shimmering diamonds and bloodred rubies whose facets reflected the light in a delicate web of brilliance.
“However do you do it?”
Loria turned to an older, fair-haired woman in a deep blue gown and silver shawl. Lady Quintin was nearly as celebrated for her parties as Loria. Nearly. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Nothing? My dear, if I only knew the Thaumas who made this, I would never allow him out of my sight.”
Loria smiled. “He is quite talented, to be sure. But I’m afraid a bit of a wanderer. Otherwise I would send him to you.”
“Speaking of wandering,” she remarked casually, as if thinking of something trivial. But her attention to the group of six men standing on the far side of the chamber suggested that it was not the glamor that decorated the ballroom stoking her interest. “I could not help but notice several foreigners among your guests.”
“Yes. A delegation from Nivania arrived a few days ago. The High Chancellor, poor dear, hasn’t the coin to put on a proper reception in his own home. So he asked that I invite them tonight.”
The silk-clad Nivanians were watching the dancers with keen interest, clearly impressed by the glamor that decorated the hall. Their painted faces and long, curved knives kept in gold bejeweled scabbards at their sides drew numerous stares from the Ubanian nobility. Uncultured heathens, some whispered. Worshipers of the earth goddess Yulisar.
Lady Quintin covered her mouth demurely to hide an amused grin. “How does the Chancellor manage? I would have assumed his wife’s family would afford him better.”
“Some people have difficulty administering their finances, I’m afraid.” Loria leaned in close. “Just between us, I hear that he invited the Nivanians to Ubania to open trade in silks.”
“You don’t say?”
“If all goes well, he should make quite a hefty sum.”
Quintin narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure? What about Ralmarstad? Surely King Hyrus would never allow it.”
She had taken the bait. Though clever, nobles like Lady Quintin were easily manipulated; their lives revolved around the latest gossip, used to embarrass or gain leverage on their rivals—and just as frequently, their friends. “Only if he finds out. Gold can cloud one’s judgment.” Loria placed her hand lightly on Quintin’s. “I’m not certain of this, mind you. In fact, now that I think about it, I’m sure it’s nothing more than a rumor.”
Lady Quintin was now searching the crowd for High Chancellor Zarish. “Yes. A rumor. Of course. It must be.” Spotting him near a table off to their left, she straightened her back and nodded politely. “Please excuse me, my dear. I see a friend I must speak with before she thinks I’m ignoring her. Must not offend, after all.”
“Why do you do that?” came a voice from behind once Lady Quintin was out of earshot.
Lord Landon Valmore was beaming, looking a bit flushed though still quite dashing in his red coat and gold-and-white shirt and trousers. The young lady with whom he’d been dancing was rejoining her father, who appeared none too pleased that his daughter’s eyes remained firmly set on the young lord.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Loria replied, placing a hand to her chest.
“Of course you don’t,” Landon said with a lighthearted laugh. “You know as well as I that the Nivanians are here to sell bows to the Ralmarstad army.”
“True. But how is it you know this?”
“My ship has been commissioned to deliver them.” He waved over a servant carrying glasses of wine. “I don’t think the Nivanians even trade in silks. They import them from Syleria, unless I’m mistaken.”
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