Knight's Shadow (Greatcoats, Book 2) by Sebastien de Castell

By Sebastien de Castell

Following his loved debut, Traitor's Blade (a "swashbuckling romp filled with air of mystery, camaraderie, quickly wit or even faster swordplay"-NPR), Sebastien de Castell returns with quantity of his fast moving fable experience sequence, encouraged via the swashbuckling motion and witty banter of The 3 Musketeers. Knight's Shadow keeps the sequence with an exciting and darkish story of heroism and betrayal in a rustic beaten less than the burden of its rulers' corruption.
 
a couple of days after the scary homicide of a duke and his kin, Falcio val Mond, swordsman and primary Cantor of the Greatcoats, starts off a perilous pursuit to seize the killer. yet Falcio quickly discovers his personal existence is in mortal hazard from a poison administered as a last act of revenge through one in all his deadliest enemies. As chaos and civil conflict start to overtake the rustic, Falcio has worthwhile little time left to prevent these made up our minds to ruin his homeland.

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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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