By Dia Calhoun
Because the blood of her great-great-grandmother, Dolvoka, had sprung up in Princess Avielle-because she regarded Dredonian-would Dolvoka's evil magic spring up in her, too? along with her silver epidermis and silver hair, fifteen-year-old Princess Avielle of Rhia resembles her Dredonian great-great grandmother who practiced evil magic. all people in Rhia expects Avielle to show evil, too. avoided by means of these round her, she feels unloved and not able to like others. moreover, Rhia is at the verge of struggle with Dredonia, which suffers less than the guideline of evil wizard-priests: the Brethren of the Black Cloaks. they've got positioned most unlikely calls for upon Rhia, however the king and queen have refused to acquiesce.One poor evening, the Brethren assault, killing the royal family members and enormous quantities of others. merely Avielle escapes. She needs to continue her identification mystery to prevent dying from the enemy. whereas hiding one of the universal humans, she learns that she has a paranormal present for weaving. yet will this reward, rooted in her Dredonian blood, lead Avielle to an analogous evil that possessed her great-great grandmother? Or will it support her loose her humans from additional assaults?
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Additional resources for Avielle of Rhia
Come! ” He made a grab for the black velvet box, but only caught the edge of it. Avielle grabbed the crystal swan and turned to run. But Edard was too fast. He ran up behind her, slipped his arm around her ribs, and squeezed until she gasped. ” he shouted. ” she cried. He grasped her arm, drew it back, and then forced it forward as he pried open her fingers. The crystal swan went flying. It spun, arcing like a brilliant thought in the air. Then down it went and shattered on the floor. “I will inform the servants that there is a mess to clean up,” Edard whispered, his breath hot upon her ear.
The woman seemed startled by her rudeness. “I apologize for intruding, but I took a wrong turn somewhere, and I’m lost. This maze of halls goes on forever! ” She laughed, and her laugh was as warm and cheerful as a fire on a cold night. “I thought all the weavers were upstairs, so I was surprised to see looms as I was passing by. I am a weaver myself, you see. ” Avielle stopped running the belt through her hands and looked at the woman more carefully. She had heard of Gamalda Calima, who was reputed to be the best weaver in Tirion and held in high esteem.
It’s what they give me, Princess,” she said. “It’s not my fault. ” Avielle nodded. It was quite clear that the kitchen servants were telling her exactly what they thought of her. She put one hand on the teapot. Cold. Of course. She wanted to throw it across the room. ” the girl said. ” She put her broad, reddened hands—the nails bitten down to the quick—on either side of the teapot. Avielle took one breath, two, four, six. Then the girl stepped back. “There,” she said, a distinct note of triumph in her voice.
Avielle of Rhia by Dia Calhoun