Cast a Bright Shadow (Lionwolf Trilogy, Book 1) by Tanith Lee

By Tanith Lee

An epic fable event of untamed creatures, enchanted landscapes, and noble destinies,

In a land of endless wintry weather, the excessive Magus Thryfe travels with haste to town of Ruk Kar to warn Vuldir, King Accessorate, of a becoming strength of envy and darkness. one in all Vuldir’s daughters, the seventeen-year-old Saphay, is to wed the Jafn chieftain Athluan, yet Thryfe foresees that the wedding will bring about the destruction of all of the Ruk kings, their lineage, and their humans. brushing aside the magician’s ominous phrases, Saphay units off towards the East and her betrothed—only to satisfy disaster.
 
Athluan, Saphay’s husband-to-be, hears rumors of a blond maiden in royal outfits entombed in a towering pyramid of ice. it's Saphay, and he or she is alive. The royal marriage ceremony ensues and soon—perhaps too soon—Saphay turns into pregnant. As time is going on, the son she births will express indicators of a divine and heroic destiny.

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The equipage rocked and lurched like a small ornate ship on stony seas. Above, the clockwork dragon supervised. How much of Oz those dull eyes had taken in. Oz rehearsing itself, rearranging itself decade after decade. Whimsy and fate, destiny and accident. The fall of the house of Ozma, the dirty years of the Wizard, the rise of impeccable Shell, holy Emperor of Oz. Fortunes, in any case: changeable fortunes converted into the changeless facts of biography by every passing tick of its mechanisms.

Am I hallucinating all this? Kill me or save me, as you wish, but for the love of the Unnamed God, do it soon. 舡 It was this last remark that moved the Lion to pity, or pity of a sort. He knew about being alone. The weather was always cold there. He padded forward and put his big head down on the man舗s chest. The man swooned in fear or disbelief, whereupon the scattershot snare in his chest slowed to a more stately thud. The Lion considered creeping off. The whole thing was so embarrassing. 舡 He didn舗t want to be rude and leave without the correct valediction.

He rubbed the cat舗s arthritic spine, and a net of hairs came off on the pad of his paw. He held them out. Each hair looked like nothing so much as a thread of glass. 舠Revolting,舡 said Sister Hospitality, charitably enough. 舠Look, it hardly has a shadow,舡 said Brrr, and this was almost true; the morning light of the vestibule slanted through where the cat stood, stretching arthritically on the flagstones. 舡 said the Lion. 舡 舠If it舗s as fragile as glass, it will be pleased to learn that our own mousers have recently fled,舡 said Sister Hospitality.

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