The Innocent Mage (Kingmaker, Kingbreaker Series #1)

The Innocent Mage (Kingmaker, Kingbreaker Series #1)

by Karen Miller

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780316067805
Publisher: Orbit
Publication date: 09/01/2007
Series: Kingmaker, Kingbreaker Series , #1
Edition description: Reprint
Pages: 672
Sales rank: 206,668
Product dimensions: 4.37(w) x 6.75(h) x 1.25(d)

About the Author

Karen Miller was born in Vancouver, Canada, and moved to Australia with her family when she was two. Apart from a three-year stint in the UK after graduating from university with a BA in communications, she's lived in and around Sydney ever since. Karen started writing stories while still in elementary school, where she fell in love with speculative fiction. She's held a variety of interesting jobs but now writes full-time.

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The Innocent Mage

By Karen Miller


Copyright © 2005 Karen Miller
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-316-06780-5

Chapter One

"He's here."

Caught unawares, Matt straightened sharply and stared at the woman framed in the stable doorway. Her thin fingers clung tight to the top of the bolted half-door and her angular face was taut with suppressed excitement. The startled horse he was saddling tossed its head and snorted.

"Easy, Ballodair, you fool," he said, one hand on the dancing brown hindquarters. "Sneak up on a body why don't you, Dathne?"

"Sorry." As usual, she didn't sound particularly repentant. "Did you hear what I said?"

Matt ducked under the stallion's neck and checked the girth buckles on the other side. "Not really."

Dathne glanced over her shoulder, unbolted the stable door and slipped inside. From the yard behind her, the sounds of voices raised in bantering laughter and the clipclopping scrunch of iron-shod hooves on raked gravel as two of the stable lads led horses to pasture. "I said," she repeated, lowering her voice, "he's here."

The gold buckles on the horse's bridle weren't quite even. Tugging them straight, frowning, Matt glanced at her. "Who? His Highness?" He clicked his tongue. "Early again, drat him. Nine o'clock he asks me to have Ballodair ready, some meetin' or other somewhere, but it ain't even-"

Dathne made an impatienthissing sound. "Not Prince Gar, you clot-head! Him."

At first he couldn't make head or tail of what she meant. Then he looked, really looked, into her face, her eyes. His heart leapt, and he had to steady himself against Ballodair's warm, muscled neck.

"Are you sure? How do you know?" His voice sounded strange: cracked and dry and frightened. He was frightened. If Dathne was right ... if the one so long awaited was here at last ... then this life, which he loved despite its dangerous secrets, was ended. And this day, so bright and blue and warmly scented with jasmine and roses and fine-boned horseflesh, marked the beginning of the end of all things known and cherished.

The end of everything, should he and Dathne fail.

Dathne was staring at him, surprise and annoyance in her narrow, uncompromising face. "How do I know? You of all people ask me that?" she, demanded. "I know. He woke me out of sleep with his coming, late last night. My skin crawls with him." Then she shrugged, an impatient twitch of her bony shoulders. "And anyway, I've seen him."

"Seen him?" said Matt, startled. "In the flesh, you mean? Not vision? When? Where?"

Pulling her light shawl tight about her, she took a straw-rustling step closer and dropped her voice to a near whisper. "Earlier. I followed my nose till I found him coming out of Verry's Hostelry." She sniffed. "Can't say I think much of his taste."

"Dathne, that was foolish." He wiped his sweaty palms down his breeches. "What if he'd seen you?"

Another shrug. "What if he had? He doesn't know me or what I'm about. Besides, he didn't. The City's thronging with folk for market day. I blended with the crowd well enough."

"You don't reckon ..." Matt hesitated. "D'you think he knows?"

Dathne scowled and scuffed her toe in the yellow straw, thinking. "He might," she said at last. "I suppose." Then she shook her head. "But I think not. If he did, why would there be need of us? We've a part to play in all this that hasn't begun yet." Her dark eyes took on a daunting, familiar glow. "I wonder where it will lead us. Don't you?"

Matt shivered. That was the kind of question he'd rather wasn't asked, or answered. "So long as it's not to an early grave, I don't much care. Have you told Veira?"

"Not yet," Dathne replied after a heartbeat's hesitation. "She's got Circle business, trouble in Basingdown, and beyond him being here I've nothing to tell. Not yet."

"You sound so calm. So sure!" He knew he sounded accusing. Couldn't help it. There she stood, strong and certain and self-contained as always, while his guts were writhing into knots and fresh sweat damped his shirt. Sensing his distress, Ballodair blew a warning through blood-red nostrils and pinned back his sharply curved ears. Matt took a strangled breath and stroked the horse's glossy cheek, seeking comfort. "How is it you're so sure?" His voice was a plaintive whisper.

Dathne smiled. "Because I dreamed him and he came."

And that was that. Stupid of him to expect more. To expect comfort.

Dathne was Dathne: acerbic, cryptic, unflustered and alone. After six years of knowing her, arguing with her, deferring to her, a drab and fluttering moth to her flame, he knew it was pointless to protest. She would be as she was and there was an end to it. As well to complain that a horse had four legs and a tail.

A grin, fleeting and impish, lit her plain face. She could read him as easily as any of the books she sold in her shop, drat her. "I should go. The prince will be here for his horse any moment, and I have things to do."

Something in her gleaming eyes unsettled his innards all over again. "What things?"

"Meet me in the Goose tonight for a pint," she invited, fingers lightly resting on the stable door. "Could be I'll have a tale to tell."


But she was out of the stable, bolting the door, snick, behind her, and the sun was bright on the raven-black hair bound in a knot close to her long straight neck. "No later than seven, mind!" she called over her shoulder, stepping neatly aside from young Bellybone with his buckets of water dangling left and right. "I need my beauty sleep ... for all the good it's done me so far!"

Then she was gone, slipping like a shadow through the stable yard's arched main entrance, and coming through the door in the wall leading to the prince's Tower residence was the prince himself, ready for riding and for business, bright yellow hair like molten gold and the easy smile on his face that hid so much, so much.

With a sigh and a last frowning stare after the woman he was soul-sworn bound to serve and to follow, Matt thrust aside his worries and went forth to greet his sovereign's son.

In the great Central Square of Dorana, capital city of the Kingdom of Lur, market day was in full, uproarious swing. First Barl's Day of every month it was held, regular as rainfall, and even though the sun had barely cleared the tallest turret on the distant royal palace the square was crammed full of buyers and sellers and sightseers, flapping and jostling like fish in a net.

Asher stood in the midst of the madness and stared like a lackwit, his senses reeling. A rabble of noise dinned his ears and his nose was overwhelmed by so many different smells, sweat and smoke and cow dung and incense, flowers and sweetmeats and roasting fowl and fresh-baked bread and more, that his empty stomach churned.

Most of the stallholders were his own people, Olken, dark-haired and industrious, selling their wares with cheerful ferocity. Fresh fruit, vegetables, butchered meat, live chickens, cured fish, candles, books, jewelry, saddlery, furniture, paintings, haircuts, bread, clocks, sweetmeats, pastries, wool, work clothes, fancy clothes ... it seemed there was nothing a man couldn't buy if he had a yearning, and the money.

"Ribbons! Buy yer pretty ribbons here, six cuicks a dozen!"

"Teshoes! Ripe teshoes!"

"Oy! Mind how ye go there, lad! Mind how ye go!" Asher spun on his heel and stumbled clear just as a bull handler, chocolate-brown beast in tow, ambled past on his way to the Livestock Quarter. The bull's polished nose ring flashed in the sunshine, and its splayed hooves clacked on the cobblestones.

"'Ere, you great lump, git out of me way!" grumbled the fruit seller, a fat Olken woman with her dark hair straggled back in a bun, her bright green dress swathed in a juice-stained apron and a brace of plump pink teshoes in one capable hand. "You be trippin' up me customers!"

Because he'd sworn a private promise to ask whoever he could, he said to her, "Would you be needin' a body to hire?"

The fruit seller winked at the crowd gathered about her barrows and cackled. "Thanks, sonny, but I already got me a man wot'd make two of you, I reckon, so just be on yer way if you ain't buyin' none of me wares!" A roll of her meaty shoulders heaved her abundant bosom, and her lips pursed in a mockery of invitation.

Around him, laughter. Hot-faced, Asher waited till the ole besom's back was turned, nicked a teshoe from the pile at the front of the stall and jumped into the swiftflowing stream of passers-by.

He finished the fruit in three gulps and licked the tart juice off his stubbly chin. It was all the breakfast he'd get. Lunch, too, and maybe even dinner if he didn't find work today. The purse tucked into his belt was ominously flat; it had taken nearly all his meager savings just to get here, and then last night's board had gobbled up most of the rest. He had enough for one more night's lodging, a bowl of soup and a heel of bread. After that, he was looking at a spot of bother. But even as doubt set its gnawing rat teeth in his guts, he felt a wild grin escape him.

He was in Dorana. Dorana. The great walled City itself. If only Da could see him now. If his brothers could see ... they'd puke their miserable guts out, right enough.


Long before devising the plan that had brought him here, he'd dreamed of seeing this place. Had grown up feeding that dream on the stories Ole Hemp used to tell the eager crowd of boys who gathered round his feet of an afternoon, once the boats were in and the catch was cleaned and gutted and the gulls were squabbling their fill on the pier.

Ole Hemp was the only man in Restharven who'd ever seen the City. Sprawled on his favorite bench down by the harbor, puffing on his gnarly pipe, he used to tell tales that set all their hearts to thumping and nigh started their eyes right out of their heads.

"Dorana City," Ole Hemp would say, "be so big you could fit Restharven in it twenty times over, at least. Its houses and hostelries be tall, like inland trees, and painted every color under the sky. And its ale houses, well, they never run dry, do they. And the smells! Enough to spill the juices from yer mouth in a river, for in their kitchens they roast pigs and lambs and fat juicy bullocks over fire pits so big and deep they'd hold a whole Restharven fambly, near enough."

And the listening boys would sigh, imagining, and rub their fish-full bellies.

But there was more, Hemp would say, so hushed and awestruck his voice sounded like the foam on the shingle once all the waves had run back to the sea. In Dorana you could see Barl's Wall itself, that towering golden barrier of magic bedded deep into the sawtooth mountain range above and behind the City.

"See it?" the boys would gasp, unbelieving, no matter how many times they'd heard the story.

"Oh aye," Old Hemp assured them. "Barl's Wall ain't invisible, like the spells sunk deep in the horizon-wide reef that stops all boats entering or leaving the calmer waters between coral and coast. No, no, Barl's Wall be a great flaming thing, visible at noon on a cloudless blue day. Keeping us safe. Protecting every last Olken man, woman and child from the dangers of the long-abandoned world beyond."

That was when somebody would always ask. "And what about the Doranen, Hemp? Does it protect them too?" And Hemp would always answer: " 'Course it do. Reckon they're like to build a wall as won't save their own selves first and foremost?"

But he always said that quietly, as though they could hear him, even though the nearest Doranen lived over thirty miles away. For Doranen ears were magic ears, and they weren't the sort of folk who took kindly to criticism.

Unsettled and suddenly homesick, Asher shook himself free of memories then looked up and over the marketplace into the distance beyond the City, where Barl's Wall shimmered in the morning sun. Ole Hemp had been right about that much, any road: there the Wall was, and there it would stand, most like until the end of time itself.

A laughing group of Doranen sauntered by. Asher couldn't help himself: he stared.

They were a tall race, the Doranen. Hair the colors of silver and gold and ripe wheat and sunshine, looped and curled and braided with carelessly expensive jewels. Eyes clear and fine, glass hues of green and blue and gray, and their skin white, like fresh milk. Their bones were long and elegant, lightly fleshed and sheathed in silk, brocade, velvet, linen, leather. They carried themselves like creatures apart, untouched, untouchable, and wherever they walked the dust of the marketplace puffed away from them in deference.

That was magic ... and they wore it like an invisible cloak. Wrapped it around their slender shoulders and kept it from slipping with the haughty tilt of their chins and the way they placed their fine-shod feet upon the ground, as though flowers should spring blooming and perfumed in their wake.

Down Restharven way, you'd hardly see a Doranen from one end of the year to the next. The king, at Sea Harvest Festival. The tax collector. The census taker. One of their fancy Pothers, if a good old-fashioned Olken healer couldn't fix your gripes or your broken bones for you. Other than that, they kept themselves to themselves on large country estates or in the kingdom's bigger towns and here, of course, in the capital. What they did to amuse themselves, Asher had no idea. Farmed and fished rivers and grew grapes and bred horses, he supposed, just like his own people. Except, of course, they used magic.

Asher felt his lip curl. Living your life with magic ... it wasn't natural. These fancy yeller-headed folk with their precious powers to do near on everything for them, to make the world bend to their wishes and whims, who'd never raised the smallest blister in all their lives, let alone an honest sweat ... what did they understand about the world? About the way a man should be connected to it, should live steeped in its tides and rhythms, obedient to its subtle voices?

Nowt. For all their mysterious, magical powers, the Doranen understood nowt.

With an impatient, huffing sigh, he moved on. Standing about like a shag on a rock wasn't going to get him any closer to finding a job. With his elbows tucked in and one hand hovering protectively over his purse, he navigated the crowded spaces between the market stalls, asking each stallholder for work. The little girls back home, picking winkles at low tide, put fewer shells in their gunny-sacks than the rejections he collected now.

His heart was banging uncomfortably. This wasn't the way his dreams had gone at all. He'd reckoned finding a job'd be a damn sight easier than this ...

Scowling, he stopped before one of the few Doranen stalls in the marketplace. The pretty young woman tending it smiled at him and snapped her fingers. The cunningly carved and painted toy dog prancing among the other toys immediately barked and turned a somersault. With another Doranen finger-snap a jolly fat clown dressed in spangled red began juggling three yellow balls. The little dog yapped and tried to snatch one out of the air.

The stall's other onlookers laughed. Just in time, Asher caught and swallowed a smile. Snorting, he turned his back on the dog and the clown and the pretty young woman and stumped away through the streaming crowd. Bloody Doranen. Couldn't even flummery toys to amuse spratlings without reaching for a spell.

At the heart of the marketplace stood a fountain, spewing water like a whale. Its centerpiece was a carved greenstone statue of Barl, with arms outstretched and a thunderbolt grasped in one fist. Beneath the bubbling surface, trins and cuicks winked and flashed in the sunshine. Asher fished a single precious copper cuick from his purse and tossed it in.

"It's a job I be needin'," he said to the silent face above him. "Nowt fancy, and all in a good cause. Reckon y'could see your way clear to helpin'?"

The statue stayed silent. Moisture slicked its carved green cheeks like tears ... though what Barl had to cry about, he surely didn't know. Turning his back, Asher slumped onto the lip of the fountain's retaining wall. Not that he'd expected the statue to actually speak. But he'd half hoped for some kind of answer. An inspiration. A bloody good idea. For sure he wasn't the most regular of chapel-goers, but like everybody else in the kingdom, he did believe. And he obeyed the Laws. All of them. That had to be good for something.


Excerpted from The Innocent Mage by Karen Miller Copyright © 2005 by Karen Miller. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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"A solid epic that posits political intrigue, ethereal prophecies and a rags-to-riches hero against a vivid if familiar fantasy backdrop." —-Publishers Weekly

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Innocent Mage 3.8 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 93 reviews.
zanirra More than 1 year ago
At first, I was discouraged by the thickness of the book. But every time I picked it up, I was intrigued by the simple, raw language that Miller used and the every-day happenings of Asher and Prince Gar. The fantasy of it is indisputable, with extensive but always entertaining descriptions of culture, magic and politics (never knew politics could be so interesting!). My favourite character was definitely Prince Gar. He lived up to my expectations of loyal prince, beloved to his people; he was endearing at times; and once surprised me with the depth of his jealousy towards his sister. But hey, the sister, Princess Fane, is a mean piece of work! But even she is given depth and the reader can understand her insecurities and thus, her actions towards Gar. I felt like the characters were engaging and I could easily see where Asher, the MC, was coming from; his pride, his dreams and his down-to-earth attitude. By the time I finished, I was so thankful that it was indeed so long and I couldn't wait to get the next volume, to see how it ended. Some ideas may not be as original as you would expect but they are delivered with such great timing that I feel happy/horrified/angry at and with the characters. As soon as I finished reading The Innocent Mage, I sat down and read it again. It's always great to find a book you love reading twice and discovering things you missed the first time round. I would definitely recommend this to young adults and older. The language used, culture and lifestyle descriptions and the politics (never knew politics could be so interesting!) might be a bit hard to understand for a child. All in all, an amazing book! It manages to impress and inspire me every time!
kyrisaean More than 1 year ago
It was a decent read, but I found the plot a bit too easy to anticipate.
GA_Reader More than 1 year ago
This was a good book. The characters and the fantasy world are well developed. A lot of magic and mystery as well as some political strife makes this an action filled plot with characters you care about. I will definitely read part 2 as the ending is a real cliff-hanger!
T_Schoonover More than 1 year ago
If you like the fantasy genre than you'll probably enjoy this book, but only if you can force your way through it. The first book basically builds the setting for the story, things dont start to get interesting until mid way through the second book, so be prepared to force feed yourself a whole lot of story to get it going. Also, the main character is portrayed as "redneck" and most of his dialogue is written to portray that particular type of speech and is rather painful to read. Once you get over those minor things though, the story is pretty interesting in its entirety.
LTR0 More than 1 year ago
the book is simply too full of dialog and not much of anything else. She is a good enough writer that the book isn't terrible but it just isn't much of a story. Maybe she would be good at plays, tv, etc but dont buy this book and expect anything like grr martin or whoever else they are comparing her to. this is a heavly dialog driven book the whole thing is like
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I have been reading the other reviews and I feel like some of them just take it a bit too far. Yes the entire first book was setting up the second, which I have not finished yet, but it was written in such a way that I, at least, fell in love with the characters from the start. I laughed with them, cried with them, and just overall dove into their world with stars in my eyes from the characters and their adventures. I didn't want the first book, this one, to end, and the ending had my screaming at my book, yelling "What happens next!!!???!" The writing style was not easy to read. You have to figure out certain things, since the dialect of the characters, particularly Asher and his family out at Restharven, is a bit hard to grasp. I was in love with Gar from the moment he appeared, and with each passing chapter I fell more in love with his personality. If you want a quick easy read, then this is not the book for you. However, if you want to be introduced into a realm dissimilar from our own, and fall in love and hate throughout the adventure, I would definitely recommend this book.
AuntieKW More than 1 year ago
Karen Millers writing style is engaging and the character are believable. I enjoyed reading all of her books and cannot wait for the next.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I never thought I would find another author besides Mercedes Lackey who could keep me enthralled and unable to put the book down. Karen Miller is an astonishingly remarkable writer, and her characters are so real you know them better than your own brothers and sisters. Whoever wrote that the life of a fisherman was not what Asher wanted, was silly. It was his driving force through all of book one. I'm almost finished with book two, and if I have to wait for book three for the story to end, I'll end up pacing the floor and haunting the bookstore.
Caden on LibraryThing 26 days ago
The Doranen have ruled Lur with magic since arriving as refugees centuries ago. Theirs was a desperate flight to escape the wrath of a powerful mage who started a bitter war in their homeland. To keep Lur safe, the native Olken inhabitants agreed to abandon their own magic. Asher left his coastal village to make his fortune to help his dad. Employed in the royal stables, he soon finds himself befriended by Prince Gar and given more money and power than he'd ever dreamed possible. But the Olken have a secret; a prophecy. The Innocent Mage will save Lur from destruction and members of The Circle have dedicated themselves to preserving Olken magic until this day arrives. This is a very good book the only downside was the ending of it which i found to be a bit of a cliche (I await the awakend mage in earnest)
jbrubacher on LibraryThing 29 days ago
Fisherman's son Asher leaves his small seaside town to head to the big city to make a fortune. His arrival causes a stir he doesn't see: he's the face in a Circle prophecy about the end of the world. As he becomes friendly with the prince Gar and trusted by the royal family, the Circle wonders how it can use him for their own ends.At first glance this story contains a huge number of stereotypes and tropes about magic, natives, prophecy, and so forth. It even has its fantasy-contrived small order of women. But a closer look reveals that none of the stereotypes are dealt with the way we'd expect. The class system in Lur between the native Olken and the invaders Doranen--the latter long since faded from warrior mages to simple high-class rulers--is painted with subtlety and yet has a huge impact on everything that happens. In fact, that's the order of the day: everything from description of the prophecy to the growing relationship between our hero Asher and the prince Gar is subtlety written, yet totally developed as the pages go on. I've seen reviews that complain that too much isn't explained or described, but actually this is what I came to respect about the book. We aren't insulted by a page and a half explaining what a harbour looks like in a small town. The author assumes we know, and in doing so lets us paint the world realistically. Or me, at least. As I say, this seems to be a common complaint: not enough hand-holding. Well, good.I also appreciate that I couldn't guess where the story was going from one chapter to the next. The romance, what there is of one, is a surprise, and awkward enough to be real life. The scarce women hold their own as developed as any of the male characters, and the characters we don't like are given good reason for the way they are and yet don't magically becomes better, greater people just because the story demands. The whole book is a surprise this way, right up to the last page which is a cliffhanger that nearly leaves the book in the middle of a sentence. I will definitely read the next in the series.Like The Game of Thrones, this book is heavily involved in politics, but unlike that book it happily skips the minutiae that doesn't matter (thank goodness.) I don't think everyone will like this book, because it is not very much like every other fantasy book out there, and it will take more thought and attention than the average story. But I like it a lot and I'm impressed with its skill and courage.
Isamoor on LibraryThing 29 days ago
Oct11:Characters: Actually pretty good despite the cliche "boy off to discover the world". The boy is unique and the characters in the kingdom are solid enough. The true villain is also sustaining.Plot: The history of this world is rich enough to drive forward a plot. The steps it takes might be mundane, but that didn't bother me overly much.Style: Again, very strong on the world building. Weak on the plot logic. Would read again for the characters.
contraversion on LibraryThing 29 days ago
One-dimensional characters. Standard fantasy plot. But, what killed me was Asher's over-the-top accent, which I'm sure is the most irritating accent ever in fantasy.
vanedow on LibraryThing 29 days ago
Just ok. I was a little disappointed in this book. I just felt the author could have done more with it. I loved the characters, especially Gar and Asher. The plot is a little predictable, but it has some intriguing elements. Somehow she just didn't quite pull it all together. I realize this book is part of a series, but within itself there just didn't seem to be a clear conflict, climax and resolution. Despite the cliffhanger ending, I don't know if I'll be following up with the rest of the series.
Alliebadger on LibraryThing 29 days ago
I really liked this. Miller is a great writer and provides well-rounded characters in believable scenarios. You can't help but feel like you know them all very well. A little too long at times, but that's just what happens in epic fantasy.
teharhynn on LibraryThing 29 days ago
An excellent from start to... "finish". It was a great lead in to the next book. I had to go out and buy it the next morning. A great fantasy that leaves you wondering what could happen next. I strongly recommend this one, and I can't wait to read the next.
SamanthaCanesi 8 months ago
First I have to say whoever designed this book is fantastic, the cover caught my attention it just stood right out on the shelf and the synopsis made me want to read it. Before I read this I had never read a Karen Miller book and I didn't even know who she was but after reading it she's on my list of authors to look out for. This book hit all the right notes for me from world building to character development to plot development it is just a really solid read. I find that quite often a book will really nail one of those things and the others will get left behind but that wasn't the case in The Innocent Mage. I love the characters in this books, they all have their own flaws and dreams and hopes and they all are trying really hard to get through life. Asher is this very relatable and real young man who is the bottom of the totem pole at home and just really wants his chance to prove himself and make something more of himself. He sets off with this dream of making things happen and coming home with the money to make his dreams come true. All he wants is to create a good life for himself and his father and he ends up stumbling into a destiny that is going to change not just him but the whole world. Along the way, he makes friends that are all on their own journey to find themselves and prove themselves and have to struggle with what they want, what they need and what is the right thing to do. And it's all happening on this large fantasy scale where the world is changing and magic is changing. It's just this great read, it was really hard to put down and Miller is just a fantastic storyteller.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Easy to read. I could not put the book down.
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I really enjoyed my time reading this. The follow up series was a let down but this one was amazing. I definitely recomend this book to anyone who really enjoys creative fantasy novels.
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