Fantasy, Magical Realism, Sword and Sorcery
The Blue Dragon’s Geas Book 5
Release Date: 5/12/2017
Premiering on May 12, Fallen Tiers is the final book in the Blue Dragon’s Geas.
From the appearance of a mysterious egg to the onslaught of a vicious storm, Alador must now decide when to move against his Uncle. How will he protect Rena’s egg? Can he save people from a storm of his own making, from the winter before? Can he really eliminate the well entrenched High Minister, who also happens to be his uncle. This last task must be done.. or he will fail his Geas given by the Blue Dragon. Failure of a major geas only ends in death. Alador is fairly certain attempting to remove his uncle will also end in death. Which death will our young hero choose or will he surprise them all and complete the Geas, releasing him from a predestined path he would have never chosen.
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Luthian indicated a chair by the fire. “I am pleased you could attend me so quickly. My nephew has informed me that we are in for quite the storm. As the leader of the stone mages, I need you to send people down to seal our storehouses.” He waited until she sat down to continue.
“Of course, I am fully aware that our staples are stored beneath the city.” She frowned, her placid face worsened with the grimace. “We have had storms before. The water has never breached the storehouses, High Minister.”
“Please, we are alone… call me Luthian.” He smiled, but it was more because the calculated familiarity had its desired effect. The lady smile demurely and dropped her gaze, her cheeks taking on the rosy coloring again.
“Alador has warned me that there will be a wave of an unusual height. I also know that it will land when the tide is at its highest.” He sighed with a bit of forced distress. “I would rather be safe for our people than regret a lack of action. We have little time.”
Caterine rose immediately. “Then I had best be off to see the task done.” She turned to head for the door.
Luthian caught her arm. “One moment, I think we might have an opportunity that would profit us both.” He paused until she turned back to look at him, her face full of her confusion. “Do you still have ill will toward our Trench Lord?”
Caterine’s face-hardened at the mention of Sordith’s title. With Luthian’s order to assist in the covering of the trench, she had been insulted to find herself working under the Trench Lord’s direction.
“He is not in my favor,” she admitted, her voice hoarse with distaste.
“And those in the trench? Your thoughts on them?” Luthian pressed.
“It is filthy and contains a forsaken lot who are barely more than animals.” Her fingers brushed across her robe as though the mere thought of the trench and its inhabitants made her feel dirty.
Luthian nodded gravely as she played into his hands. “I feel much the same. May I suggest a little foul play?” He dipped his head in acknowledgement as a conniving look flashed in her eyes. He had chosen his mage correctly.
“What did you have in mind?” she cooed.
“Send your troublesome mages, those you have concerns over into the trench to seal them against the weather. This does need done. Once they are fully occupied, you seal the trench from the first tier.”
“I fail to see what good this will do either of us?” She eyed him a bit warily.
“I have been told the wave will fully engulf the trench. The falling rain…” he indicated the window, “needs an outlet as it drains down the tiers, so sealing it against this wave is not an option.”
“You plan to drown them?” She considered the idea.
“It is such a fine opportunity, don’t you agree? I can assure you that no mages will interfere. General Levielle is even now giving the order that there is to be no movement between the tiers.” Luthian’s voice was soft and suggestive.
Luthian could tell that her calculating mind was already lining up as she realized what would occur. “I merely point out an opportunity for us both to rid ourselves of… What did you call them… a filthy and forsaken lot of animals? The level of crime moving up the tiers is increasing. It is time we cleansed ourselves of those that do not have enough skill to be of use to the upper tiers.” He waved his hands in dismissal, as though changing his mind. He lightened his tone. “What am I thinking? No… We should not. Why people might hold you accountable for such an act.” He shook his head. “I fear I fell into a bit of whimsical fantasy. It is hardly a proper plan.” He sighed with exasperation. “I just don’t know when another chance might present itself…”
“I can seal them without detection,” Lady Caterine offered.
“Could you?” He looked a bit amazed, but inwardly he felt like the angler setting his hook. “I don’t know… It would have to be our secret.” He tapped his lip thoughtfully.
She moved to him, a bit of hopeful familiarity emerged as she laid a hand upon his robe. “I can keep secrets, Luthian,” she murmured.
She gazed up at him for a long hopeful minute. Luthian sighed inwardly. Some sacrifices had to be made when one was attempting to keep his hands clean. He bent his head to let his lips hover just above hers.
“Then let me send you on your way,” his soft words for her ears alone. He laid his lips against hers – revolted at the cold fish like kiss she attempted to return. “I will see you as soon as you have finished. We can… share other secrets,” he promised.
She nodded happily and turned, hurrying from the room to order her least favorite mages sent to seal the storehouse.
Luthian wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as soon as the door shut. Thankfully, he would not be keeping that promise. The woman kissed worse than a virgin.
He turned back toward his desk, seeing Severent step from the side door. “Is the plan still as we discussed, milord?” He was dressed in drab grays and browns. Luthian knew that if he walked the lower tiers, he would likely never notice the man. Here in his office filled with rich tones, he stood out.
“Yes, all is in place as we discussed. The occupants of the trench will have only one way out. Through panic or storm, we should see the population diminish greatly.” Luthian chuckled. “And the current level of dedication in our Trench Lord means I will likely lose him as well. Pity… the man had a head for business.”
Severent nodded and glanced at the door, then back at Luthian. “And the woman?”
Luthian did not hesitate. “As soon as the last wall is in place… kill her.”
About the Author:
Cheryl Matthynssens was born in Upland, California, holds a teaching degree and is a licensed addictions counselor. This has allowed her to interview hundreds of personalities over her career.
She loves that everyone is unique and this appreciation and interest has informed and inspired her writing.
Matthynssens enjoys the universe of fantasy for the way it connects to the mind’s creativity and imagination as a colorful escape to distant lands of mystical beasts and fantastic quests where the hero really does save the day. As she’s matured artistically, Matthynssens has found writing to be a comforting counterbalance to a world where beloved characters don’t always get back up after they fall down.
Matthynssens currently lives in Wenatchee, Washington, and has four beautiful children and four wonderful grandchildren.
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