Well, Hellbow Rune can now be ordered!
You can read this astonishing, grim fairy tale and order it from Blackwyrm Books!!!
The Prologue follows
Prologue: Leaving the Carnival of Monsters
“Let me tell you your fortune.” Madame Zhalla said, smiling under the rubber witch mask. She was my adoptive mother, taller than me, with pale blonde hair that had been winnowed by the years.
My hair was dark, and I didn’t know where I came from, so the fortune telling was a game. My mother always claimed she had the sight, and that she could see me in another place. She would tell me wonderful stories of a world of beauty, and yet she called me a wicked, dark haired thing, though everyone told me I was pretty.
My name is Symantha Markajian. I might be a gypsy or an orphan, a liar or a con artist, a stealer of wallets or a hero of stories. I lived in a carnival wagon with my adopted mother, amid the freakshow of the bearded ladies, the two headed men, the roustabouts and the archery contests. She didn’t care where I come from, ran her fingers through my dark hair, and called me ‘muffin.’ I was fifteen years old.
My mother took my palm in her clawed rubber hands when the nights grew dark, and the lights in the fortune teller’s tent grew dim. “You will grow up in a circus, and travel to places most people never see. You will meet the man you love by a pool in the forest. You will be a great hero, who will kill the King of Feathers, a wicked tyrant who rules over a wicked land. You may believe it all, or you may not believe a word of it.”
I didn’t believe a single thing. It all seemed stupid to me, and I had computer games to get back to. I won the computer in a card game. I was good at playing cards. We moved from circus to circus, and town to town. My mother’s prophecies were notoriously inaccurate. I chalked them up to coincidence.
It was upstate New York, in the fall. My mother was working late at the fortune teller’s tent, as she always did, and I crept out of our trailer, where the mist was thick and the forest was shadowed in the background. I was wearing jeans and a ratty t-shirt with a drunken fish on it. So I walked towards the forest, confident that I’d be back by morning. In the distance, the lights of the big top beckoned, and the carnival played on.
They say that’s how these things always begin…
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