By Mark Charan Newton
Within the frozen north of a far-flung international lies Villiren, a urban tormented by violent gangs and huge human/animal hybrids, stalked by means of a serial killer, and distinctive by means of an otherworldly military. Brynd Lathraea has introduced his elite evening protect to assist Villiren construct a struggling with strength opposed to the invaders. yet luck will suggest facing the half-vampyre chief of the savage Bloods gang. in the meantime, reptilian rumel investigator Rumex Jeryd has come looking safe haven from Villjamur’s vindictive emperor—only to discover a urban riddled with intolerance among species, indifference to a murderer’s reign of terror, and the strong impact of criminals. because the enemy prepares to strike, and Villiren’s defenders activate one another, 3 refugees—deposed empress Jamur Rika, her sister Eir, and the student Randur Estevu—approach town. And with them they create a final, determined desire for survival . . . and a surprising revelation that may swap everything.
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Additional info for City of Ruin (Legends of the Red Sun, Book 2)
He started to shake and Mother hugged him tighter. He was breathing as fast as she. “It will be all right,” Mother whispered to him, but he was not sure if she was really talking to him. She half-stood out of the undergrowth and looked around the forest for a better hiding place. Aril wondered if maybe they should dash for the village. Or shout for help? Surely someone would hear them. Maybe even Sheriff Bol. “Momma …” He had not called her Momma since he was a wee, since Father had died. “Momma, shouldn’t we—” One of the village’s dogs barked.
See to the rescue of Moon’s survivors,” Rivalen said. “At least a dozen men are still in the water. ” Brennus cocked his head in puzzlement. ” “To end this,” Rivalen answered, taking his holy symbol in hand. Brennus grabbed him by the wrist. Shadows coiled around them both. “This is not a time to test your faith, Rivalen. ” Rivalen removed his brother’s hand from his arm. He had made a lifelong habit of testing of his faith, and Shar had rewarded him for it. He saw no reason to change his practice.
Aril met his eyes and they flared yellow. Aril realized what had happened. The shadowman had saved them. “Back away,” the shadowman said in the halfling tongue, and he nodded at the twitching body of the troll. His voice was deep, and it scared Aril. Aril had never before met any big folk who spoke the language of halflings. But the shadowman did. Mother, still shaking and crying, was beginning to bleed from where the troll had grabbed her arm. She scooted backward and pulled Aril with her, away from the body of the troll.