Broken Blade: A Fallen Blade Novel: 1

Product Description Aral The Jack, Formerly The Noble Aral Kingslayer, Is The Best Kind Of Hero: Damaged, Cynical And Despondent, Yet Needing Only The Right Cause To Rise From His Own Ashes.-Alex Bledsoeonce A Fabled Blade Of Namara, Aral Kingslayer Fought For Justice And His Goddess Alongside His Familiar, A Living Shadow Called Triss. Now With Their Goddess Murdered And Her Temple Destroyed, They Are Among The Last Of Their Kind. Surviving On The Fringes Of Society, Aral Becomes A Drunken, Broken, And Wanted Man, Working Whatever Shadowy Deal Comes His Way. Until A Mysterious Woman Hires Him To Deliver A Secret Message-One That Can Either Redeem Him Or Doom Him. About The Author Kelly McculloughIs The Author Of The Webmage Series And The Fallen Blade Series. Excerpt. Reprinted By Permission. All Rights Reserved. 1Trouble Wore A Red Dress. That Was My First Thought When The Girl Walked Into The GryphonS Head. My Second Was That The Dress DidnT Fit As Well As It Should For A LadyS Maid. It Was Cut For Someone Both Bustier And Broader Across The Hip Than The Current Occupant. Not That She Looked Bad. The Wrapping DidnT Fit Right, But The Contents Of The Package More Than Made Up For Any Lack In Presentation.The Poor Fit Of The Dress Was A Definite Puzzler. Red Was The Coming Fashion For Servants In The Great Houses Of Tien, And While Your Average Duchess Might Not Give A Cracked Cup Whether Her Servants Clothes Fit Comfortably, She Cared Enormously Whether Their Looks Reflected Poorly On Her. The Fashion Was Too New For Hand-Me-Downs, Which Meant The Dress Had To Belong To Someone Other Than The Girl Wearing It.She Turned My Way And Marched Across The Room Without So Much As A Glance At The Filthy Straw Covering The Floor Of The GryphonS Common Room. Jerik, The TavernS Owner, Changed It Out Once A Year Whether It Needed It Or Not, Much To The Annoyance Of The Rats And Their More Exotic Magical Playmates, The Slinks And Nipperkins. When I Added Her Indifference To The Awful Things In The Straw To The Length Of Her Stride And The Set Of Her Features, I Had To Revise That Girl To Woman Though She Was Quite Young.Are You The Jack? She Asked When She Reached My Table. She Leaned Down Toward Me As She Spoke, Silhouetting Herself Against The Only Light In The Room-A Dim And Badly Scarred Magelight Chandelier.IM A Jack, And Open To Hire If YouRe Looking For One. A Jack Of Shadows, The UnderworldS All-Purpose Freelancer-How Very Far ID Fallen From The Old Days.I Was Told To Look For Aral . . .She Drew The Word Out Almost Into A Question, As If Hoping I Might Supply Something More Than My First Name. It Was A Tactic I Recognized From Long, Personal Use And One I DidnT Much Like Having Turned Back On Me. But If I Wanted To Keep Paying My Bar Tab, I Needed To Work, So I Nodded.AralS A Name ILl Answer To, Among Others. Why Do You Need A Jack?First, LetS Find Out Whether YouRe The Right Sort For The Job I Have In Mind.Out Of The Corner Of My Eye I Saw My Shadow Shifting Slowly Leftward As If Seeking A Better View Of The Young Woman. I Leaned That Way As Well, To Cover The ShadowS Movements, And Accidentally Elbowed My Whiskey Bottle Off The Table. It Thudded Into The Straw But DidnT Break. Not That It Mattered. ID Finished The Last Of The Contents Twenty Minutes Ago. Which, In All Honesty, Might Have Had Something To Do With My Knocking It Over.Hang On A Tick, I Said, And Bent To Pick The Bottle Out The Moldering Straw.I Took The Opportunity Offered By The Cover Of The Table To Make A Sharp No Signal To Triss With My Left Hand. I CouldnT Afford To Let Anyone Notice My Shadow Moving Of Its Own Accord, Not With The Price On Our Heads-Prices, Really, As There Was More Than One Interested Party. And Even This Darkest Corner Of A Seedy Tavern Had Light Enough For A Trained Eye To Make A Potentially Fatal Connection.I Swore Silently At My Shadow Familiar While I