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Born without magic, Joram was one of the Dead, denied the throne of Merilon. For years, he lived among outlaws, surviving by wit and sleight-of-hand. Now, wielding the powerful, magic absorbing Darksword, Joram retums to the enchanted Kingdom that once was his home to win revenge and claim his birthright. Here he will test Bishop Vanya and his fierce army of Duuk-tsarith in a battle unlike any their world has known. Joined by the scholarly catalyst Saryon, the young mage Mosiah, and the trickster Simkin, Jorma confronts the shattering secret of his past and discovers the ancient prophecy that puts the fate of the world in his hands--the hands that forged the Darksword.The Summons
“Saryon….”
The catalyst floated between unconsciousness and the waking nightmare of his life.
“Holiness, forgive me!” he muttered feverishly. “Take me back to our sanctuary! Free me of this terrible burden. I cannot bear it!” Tossing on his crude bed, Saryon put his hands over his closed eyes as though he could blot out the dreadful visions that sleep only intensified and made more frightening. “Murder!” he cried. “I have done murder! Not once! Oh, no, Holiness! Twice. Two men have died because of me!”
“Saryon!” The voice repeated the catalyst’s name, and there was a hint of irritation in it.
The catalyst cringed, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Let me confess to you, Holiness!” he cried. “Punish me as you will. I deserve it, desire it! Then I will be free of their faces, their eyes … haunting me!”
Saryon sat up on his bed, half-asleep. He had not slept in days; exhaustion and excitement had temporarily overthrown his mind. He had no conscious thought of where he was or why thilC
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