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| As a slave in the war-weary kingdom of Faelen, ...Nym isn't merely devoid of rights, her Elemental kind are only born male and always killed at birth, meaning she shouldn't even ever exist... ~~~ |
Though centuries had passed, almost all were gone, being killed at birth. Somehow a female had been born...and not killed...but she had changed, adapted, become a Elemental, and a slave for so long, so very long... The rings on her arms showed how many masters/owners she had had. Now she was once again at the slave market...Storm Siren
By Mary Weber
Alert! Alert! Alert! Fantasy lovers Alert! This is one of the best fantasy books I've ever read. Isn't it wonderful some minds can create stories that seem to be so real and exciting... Imagine a young girl who can control earth's elements! Yeah...it sounds good, but... Here she is, a slave being passed one from one owner to another...
And then this one--is she for real?!!!
Nym was handling herself ok, at least all she had done so far was spit in the trader's face... But later, she watched as a man purchased a child...
Nym really couldn't stop herself...the child was choking at the end of a noose and her buyer was enjoying it
I shut my eyes and feel the throbbing of my own neck. One...two... three heart pulses, and abruptly there's a pause in the air. As if the wind itself is holding her breath.
And then the sound of a choked spasm, so fragile in its hopelessness, signaling what I already knew.
He's going to let her die.
But I can't.
Thick clouds descend on the marketplace in a swirling rush and darken the sun. They sharpen the friction in the atmosphere, engaging with my infuriated blood, my skin. Sickened, I open my eyes in time to see faces draw upward. Their expressions slowly alter from humor to horror.
I'm so sorry, I want to say. But all you fancy people in your pretty shawls? You should know better...
A deafening crack and blinding flash. The marketplace goes white. Burning grass and flesh fill my nostrils as a repulsive thrill winds through my static-filled veins.
His body bursts into pure energy.
The crazy noblewoman laughs as the man crumbles to dust.
~~~
Yes, it was the noblewoman who had watched Nym kill the man who had hurt the child who bought her. Her secret was out, people had watched her as the elements had obeyed her. Why would such a woman buy a slave who killed... But Adora had a specific reason for buying Nym and when she was brought before her she explained that she wanted to use Nym as a weapon--well, not exactly in those words... Her hair had been colored and she was given clothes from Adora to wear, mainly to ensure her arms did not show what was there--the rings of previous owners and those marks she had done herself to try to atone when she had lost control and killed... She could not live with herself otherwise.
She was surprised to learn that there was a boy also training... and then she met her trainer... and for the first time ever, he brought a calmness to her and began training her to control her powers...
There was only one problem. Adora wants that trainer for...herself... and so everybody warned Nym...
But they did not warn Eogan
The routine Eogan inflicts on us for the rest of the afternoon is a cycle of twenty-minute workouts encompassing physical strength training, bow shooting, ability control--which his calming knack is proving helpful for--and knife throwing. To his credit, it appears he fashioned our blades himself. Never mind that mine are smaller than Colin's and we have to give them back when we finish...
Adora gave explicit instructions that her last-minute party needed clear skies tonight...
Eogan sighs and asked me to clear the skies.
I'm almost finished after a half hour of him telling me to steady my breathing and center the storm iinside of me in order to calm the one above. I want to tell him that it's harder than it looks when you got an infuriating man touching your skin who ignites your senses in their own little messed-up storm...
~~~
The three continue to train and become friends, but there is also much talk in the castle and town about their fear of war and when they would strike to destroy them...
Sometimes too many words still cannot say what is needed... Just let me close with,..Get This Book...
GABixlerReviews
About the Author
Mary Weber is a ridiculously uncoordinated girl plotting to take over make-believe worlds through books, handstands, and imaginary throwing knives. In her spare time, she feeds unicorns, sings 80s hairband songs to her three muggle children, and ogles her husband who looks strikingly like Wolverine. They live in California, which is perfect for stalking LA bands, Joss Whedon, and the ocean. Visit her website at: mchristineweber.com.
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