**On Sale May 1, 2018**
Hardcover | $26.99
ISBN: 9781250148070| Ebook ISBN: 9781250148087
Orphaned and alone, Jasminda lives in a land where cold whispers of invasion and war linger on
the wind. Jasminda herself is an outcast in her homeland of Elsira, where her gift of Earthsong is
feared. When ruthless soldiers seek refuge in her isolated cabin, they bring with them a captive--an
injured spy who threatens to steal her heart.
Jack's mission behind enemy lines to prove that the Mantle between Elsira and Lagamiri is about to
fall nearly cost him his life, but he is saved by the healing Song of a mysterious young woman. Now
he must do whatever it takes to save Elsira and it's people from the True Father and he needs Jasminda's Earthsong to do it. They escape their ruthless captors and together they embark on a perilous journey to save
Elsira and to uncover the secrets of The Queen Who Sleeps.
Thrust into a hostile society, Jasminda and Jack must rely on one another even as secrets jeopardize their bond. As an
ancient evil gains power, Jasminda races to unlock a mystery that promises salvation. The fates of two nations hang in
the balance as Jasminda and Jack must choose between love and duty to fulfill their destinies and end the war.
CHAPTER TWO
Jackal and Monkey stood at the edge of a wide canyon. Monkey
asked, If I leap and make it to the other side, was that my destiny
or merely my good luck?
Jackal replied, Our destiny can be taken in hand, molded, and
shaped, while chance makes foolishness out of whatever attempts
to control it. Does this make destiny the master of luck?
—collected folktales
Jack had found himself in a great many hopeless situations in his
life, but this one was the grand champion—a twenty-two-year record
for dire occurrences. He only hoped this wouldn’t be the last
occurrence and sent up yet another prayer that he might live to see
his twenty-third year.
The temperature had dropped precipitously. His spine was assaulted
by the rocky ground on which he lay, but really that was the
least of his discomforts.
His vision had begun to swim about an hour ago, and so at first he thought the girl looming above him was a mirage. She peered
down at his hiding spot behind a cluster of coarse shrubbery, her
head cocked at an angle. Jack went to stand, years of breeding kicking
in, his muscle memory offended at the idea of not standing in
the presence of a lady, but apparently his muscles had forgotten the
bullet currently lodged within them. And the girl was Lagrimari—
not strictly a lady, but a woman nonetheless—and a beautiful one,
he noticed as he squinted into the dying light. Wild, midnight curls
floated carelessly around her head, and piercing dark eyes regarded
him. Her dress was drab and tattered, but her smooth skin was a
confectioner’s delight. His stomach growled. When was the last
time he’d eaten?
Her presence meant he was still on the Lagrimari side of the
mountain range bordering the two lands and had yet to cross the
other, more powerful barrier keeping him from his home of Elsira:
the Mantle.
The girl frowned down at him, taking in his bedraggled appearance.
From his position lying on the ground, he tried his best to
smooth his ripped uniform, the green fatigues of the Lagrimari
army. Her confusion was apparent. Jack was obviously Elsiran;
aside from his skin tone, the ginger hair and golden honey-colored
eyes were a dead giveaway. And yet he wore the uniform of his
enemy.
“Please don’t be scared,” he said in Lagrimari. Her brows rose
toward her hairline as she scanned his supine and bloodied body.
Well, that was rather a ridiculous thing to say. “I only meant that I
mean you no harm. I . . .” He struggled with how to explain himself.
There were two possibilities. She could be a nationalist who
would turn him in to the squad of soldiers currently combing the
mountain for him, perhaps to gain favor with the government, or song of blood & stone 17
she could be like so many Lagrimari citizens, beaten down by the
war with no real loyalty to their dictator or his thugs. If she was the
former, he was already dead, so he took a chance with the truth.
“You see, I was undercover, spying from within the Lagrimari
army. But now there are men looking for me, they’re not far, but . . .”
He paused to take a breath; the effort of speaking was draining. He
suspected he had several cracked or broken ribs in addition to the
gunshot wound. His vision swirled again, and the girl turned into
two. Two beautiful girls. If these were his last moments before
traveling to the World After, then at least he had something pleasant
to look at.
He blinked rapidly and took another strained breath. His mission
was not complete; he could not die yet. “Can you help me?
Please. I’ve got to get back to Elsira.”
She stole an anxious glance skyward before kneeling next to
him. Her cool hand moved to his forehead. The simple touch was
soothing, and a wave of tension rolled off him.
“You must be delirious.” Her voice was rich, deeper than he’d
expected. It eased the harsh consonants of the Lagrimari language,
for the first time making it sound like something he could imagine
being pleasant to listen to. She worked at the remaining buttons of
his shirt, pulling the fabric apart to reveal his ruined chest. Her
expression was appraising as she viewed the damage, then sat back
on her haunches, pensive.
“It probably looks worse than it is,” he said.
“I doubt that.”
Jack’s chuckle sounded deranged to his own ears, so it was no
surprise that the girl looked at him askance. He winced—laughing
was a bad idea at this point—and struggled for breath again.
“The soldiers . . . they’re after me. I have to get back through the
Mantle.” “Shh,” she said, peering closely at him. “Hush all that foolishness;
you’re not in your right mind. Though I’ll admit, you speak
Lagrimari surprisingly well. I’m not sure what happened to you,
but you should save your strength.”
She closed her eyes, and suddenly his whole body grew warmer,
lighter. The odd sensation of Earthsong pulsated through him. He
had only experienced it once before, and it hadn’t been quite like
this. The touch of her magic stroked him intimately, like a brush of
fingers across his skin. The soft vibration cascaded over his entire
body, leaving him feeling weightless.
He gasped, pulling in a breath, and it was very nearly an easy
thing to accomplish. Tears pricked his eyes. “Sovereign bless you.”
Her expression was grave as she dug around in her bag. “It’s just
a patch. You must have ticked someone off real good. It’d take quite
a while to fix you up properly, and the storm’s coming. You need to
find shelter.”
She retrieved a jar filled with a sweet-smelling substance and
began spreading it over his wounds. The Earthsong had turned
down the volume of his pain, and the cream soothed him even
more.
“What is that?”
“Just a balm. Helps with burns, cuts.” Her hand paused for a
moment. “Never gunshot wounds, but it’s worth a try.”
He laid his head back on the ground, closing his eyes to savor
the ability to breathe deeply again. “A quick rest and I’ll be back on
my way. Need to keep moving, though. Need to get back.”
“Back through the Mantle?” Her tone vibrated with skepticism.
“And away from the Lagrimari soldiers chasing you?”
“Yes.” Her palm met his forehead again. She thought he was
delusional. He wished he was. Wished the last few weeks had been
nothing but the imaginings of an impaired mind.
About the Author
Leslye Penelope has been writing since she could hold a pen and loves getting lost in the worlds in
her head. She is an award-winning author of new adult, fantasy, and paranormal romance. She
lives in Maryland with her husband and their furry dependents: an eighty-pound lap dog and an
aspiring feral cat.
Emmett
