Title: Rend the Dark (Echoes of the Ascended, #2)
Release Date: 15th October 2015
“Atmospheric, fast-paced, engaging quick read, with a satisfying story and glimpses of Supernatural and King’s IT. This is definitely a series I can get hooked on and look forward to month after month.” – BooksChatter, Goodreads.
“‘Rend the Dark’ was a creepy, fast-paced demon hunt through the forgotten villages and ruins of Aedaron. I absolutely LOVED it!” – Stacey, TwinReads.
“Another action packed, heart wrenching, beautifully written novella from Gelineau and King.” – Beth, Goodreads.
ECHOES OF THE ASCENDED, #2: REND THE DARK
The great Ruins are gone. The titans. The behemoths. All banished to the Dark and nearly forgotten. But the cunning ones, the patient ones remain. They hide not in the cracks of the earth or in the shadows of the world. But inside us. Wearing our skin. Waiting. Watching.
Once haunted by visions of the world beyond, Ferran now wields that power to hunt the very monsters that he once feared. He is not alone. Others bear the same terrible burden. But Hunter or hunted, it makes no difference. Eventually, everything returns to the Dark.
The boy felt it before he saw it.
There was a chill feeling, different from the usual cold that filled the stone halls of the orphanage. That cold was familiar and simple. You felt it in your bones. You endured it by hovering closer to the kitchen fire before the matron caught you, or by sharing a blanket with your chosen brothers and sisters.
But this was different. This was a sharp-edged cold. Like the glitter that came off the knife they used to kill the goats. Like the ice that sheathed the old tree outside and made the branches snap off. He did not feel this cold in his bones, but in his very soul. And it made him want to whimper with fear.
He had tried to keep quiet. Already many of the other orphans were angry at him. The dancers and jugglers had them clapping and laughing, a rare treat for the forgotten children housed here.
Until he had begun screaming and pointing at one of the performers.
He had ruined the show, and the embarrassed matron sent the children off to their dormitories immediately. Their anger was palpable, a terrible thing he felt all around, and he could hear harsh whispers up and down the halls of the old fortress that served as the orphanage. “Crazy is at it again,” he heard. “The lunatic’s seeing monsters again.” He knew if not for his friends, he would have suffered that night.