The Shadow Sorceress: The Fourth Book of the Spellsong Cycle

by L. E. Modesitt Jr. Narrated by Amy Landon

Overview

Secca, a young sorceress, is thrust into a position of power and responsibility when the legendary Sorceress-Protector of Defalk dies unexpectedly before Secca's training as a master magic wielder is anywhere near complete.



As she leads an army for the first time, Secca finds that she must master diplomacy in order to save her ruler and his kingdom and form alliances with unfriendly potential allies. At the same time, she discovers the unexpected potential for love and companionship in a world where few men are wise enough to value women as anything more than wives, mistresses, or mothers.



Coping with it all, Secca proves herself to be more than just a quick study; she has become a courageous woman who shows a fearless commitment to fighting the good fight.

Editorial Reviews

Continuing the story begun in the first Spellsong Trilogy, The Shadow Sorceress focuses on Secca, now a young sorceress, who must fill the vacuum of power left by the unexpected death of her mentor, Anna. All her newly learned sorcery is challenged, however, by the drumming magic of the Sea Priests. Realistic characters in a fantastic realm.

Kirkus Reviews

A new triology extending, but not improving, Modesitt's well-regarded Spellsong Cycle (Darksong Rising, 2000, etc.). "Something's going to happen and you'll be the one who'll have to deal with it," intones Anna, the Earth-born, singing sorceress heroine of the first three Spellsong books, to her protegee Secca. Anna then expires, fatally disturbed by changes in the Harmonies that govern this peculiar world where music is magic and a song, properly sung, can build bridges, pave roads, mine iron, or cause a cruel, feckless warlord to die of seemingly natural causes. Anna's death sets off a storm of dissension and conflict. Within days, the wily Sea Priests, led by the Maitre of Sturinn use strange drumming magic to send a tidal wave smashing into a defenseless port city, and a shifty sorcerer named Belmar utters a spell that causes a bunch of soldiers to slit their own throats. Lord Robero of Defalk sends Secca and Secca's apprentice Richina out to line up allies and put down insurrections. Secca, who is more accustomed to using sorcery for public-works projects, is eager use her powers against the army of rebellious Lord Mynntar-until she sings a spell designed to incinerate any soldier who isn't loyal to Defalk, and ends up immolating some of her allies in a literal version of friendly fire. An interminable number of minor characters come and go, weighing in about the moral complexities of sorcery, as Secca readies for a climactic sea battle against the Sturinn, who are counting on Alcaren, a handsome cousin to the Maitre and himself a sorcerer of moderate skills, to beat Secca at her own game. Is it mere magic that makes them fall in love? Soggy dialogue and paper-thin descriptivepassages, hobbled further by Modesitt's annoying habit of noting little more about his characters than their all-too-numerous smiles, frowns, and facial grimaces.

From the Publisher

New alliances and new players keep this series fresh. Mr. Modesitt crafts a tightly-woven tale with ominous overtones that point to a dramatic finale.” —Romantic Times

“The saga continues on course toward becoming Modesitt's outstanding work of fantasy” —Booklist

From the Publisher - AUDIO COMMENTARY

"The saga continues on course toward becoming Modesitt's most outstanding work of fantasy." —Booklist

Product Details

BN ID:	2940170461509
Publisher:	Tantor Audio
Publication date:	05/12/2015
Series:	Spellsong Cycle Series , #4
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

1

TWO sorceresses stood beside the scrying pool in the domed outbuilding that lay to the south of the main keep of Loiseau. The taller woman had fine white-blonde hair, hair that could have belonged to the young woman of nineteen that her appearance conveyed. Her thin and finely drawn face was without blemish, without lines, and her piercing blue eyes were clear. Only the fineness of Anna's features attested to her true age. Her figure was nearly as slender, and far more girlish than that of the smaller redhead who stood next to her.

Anna eased into a straight-backed chair behind the small writing table, then looked at the redhead. "Secca…our good Lord Robero has requested that you visit him at Elheld, preferably within the next two weeks."

"Doubtless he has yet another heir or lord for me to meet, Lady Anna." Secca's mouth offered a sardonic smile as she perched on the tiled edge of the scrying pool. Part of her smile was because Anna had never been able to say "Robero" without a twist to her lips. Then Secca had difficulty herself. When Secca had been growing up in Falcor under Anna's tutelege, Robero had been "Jimbob." Only when he'd become Lord of Defalk had he decided "Jimbob" was too undignified and changed his name to Robero. "After all these years, he would still have me consorted."

"You aren't that old." Anna added, "He doesn't understand you, but he does care for you."

"That may be, for he understands women not at all. He understands but strength and power, and that is why he respects you, lady."

Anna sighed gently. "I wish it were otherwise. Certainly we tried."

Secca nodded sympathetically. While Anna almost never used Lord Jecks' name, Anna often said "we" when referring to what the two had accomplished for Defalk in the less than half score of years when Anna had been regent and sole ruler of Defalk. The former regent spoke seldom of Lord Jecks, but Secca had seen the lamps of Anna's rooms still lit late into many nights over the ten years since his death. While Anna and Jecks had been friends and certainly lovers, consorting had been out of the question. That Secca had understood from the beginning, when Anna had effectively adopted her after the deaths of Secca's parents, for Jecks had been a powerful lord in his own right, and the grandsire of Lord Robero, during the time when Anna had been Sorceress-Regent for the underage Robero.

"Despite his inclinations, Robero has learned much," Anna continued, "and I am thankful for Alyssa."

"So am I," replied Secca.

"You know I never would have consorted you to him."

"Alyssa made it that much easier."

The two sorceresses laughed. Then Anna cleared her throat.

"You have something else I am to do?" asked Secca.

"Kylar…" Anna said.

Secca winced. "The one who suffocated his consort and claimed she died of consumption?" Anna nodded.

"You wish me to go to Issl as well?"

"I think you should go there first." The older sorceress smiled. "You will be paying my respects to Lord Fustar. He will be most happy to see your young and smiling face." The smile vanished. "The pool shows that Kylar does not understand what has happened in Defalk, and that he will abuse any woman he can. He now seeks yet another consort." Anna looked at Secca. "You understand how you must deal with Kylar, and with Lord Fustar? Nothing must happen to Kylar while you are at Issl."

"I understand, lady. Nothing will occur." Secca inclined her head. "I could take the players, and we could stop and add a dek to the road between Mencha and the River Chean on the south end, and then add another dek or so on our return journey from Elheld."

Anna shook her head. "You dislike Robero, and yet you would work to finish paving the road he demands."

"Why not? He is likely to be lord for many years to come, and it will speed our travel from Loiseau to Elheld." She laughed. "At times, I would that there were other ways to build his roads."

"In Defalk, there are no other ways." Anna shook her head. "Robero doesn't have enough men or engineers—or the golds to pay for them—and he cannot call on the Lords for anything other than their liedgeld and their levies in battle."

"So we must build roads and bridges."

"It's not all drudgery without rewards, Secca," Anna pointed out. "People know we build roads and bridges, and it helps associate sorcery with good things. Given how this land has regarded sorceresses in the past, that's not all bad."

"I know." Secca grinned suddenly. "I could also use sorcery to repair a wall or bridge or something for Lord Fustar…as a gesture from Loiseau."

The older sorceress smiled. "That might help."

"It is hard to see shadows in the light of a favor."

"Sometimes," Anna replied. "Sometimes. Other times, light makes the shadows more obvious. This time, I think you're right."

"When should I leave? Tomorrow?"

"If you wish to spend time on the highway and several days being a charming guest at Issl."

Secca nodded, then tilted her head. "Lady Anna?"

"Yes? You have that serious tone."

"I would that you would wait until I return before you send your next scroll to your daughter in the Mist Worlds."

Anna nodded politely.

"At least I could play for you and lessen the effort."

"We will see," replied the Sorceress and Lady of Mencha. "I'm not ancient yet."

"Lady…" Secca tried not to plead, but to convey her concern.

"Secca…" Anna laughed. "Don't turn me into a doddering old lady."

"No one could do that." The younger sorceress smiled at Anna's tone, smiled in spite of her worries, for she had seen the deepening darkness behind her foster-mother's eyes, and sensed the ever-increasing strain that even the lightest of Clearsong spells placed on Anna, for all that Anna looked little different from what she had more than a score of years earlier when first she had arrived in Defalk from the Mist Worlds.

Copyright © 2001 by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.

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