Download The Alchemist of Souls: Night's Masque, Volume 1 by Anne Lyle PDF

By Anne Lyle

Whilst Tudor explorers lower back from the recent international, they introduced again a reputation out of half-forgotten Viking legend: skraylings. Red-sailed ships within the explorers’ wake, bringing local American goods--and a skrayling ambassador--to London. yet what do those doubtless magical beings actually need in Elizabeth I’s capital?

Mal Catlyn, a down-at-heel swordsman, is seconded to the ambassador's bodyguard, yet assassination makes an attempt are the least of his difficulties. What he learns concerning the skraylings and their unholy powers may price England her new ally--and Mal his soul.

e-book ISBN: 978-0-85766-215-6

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Pausing before the last door on the right, he knocked gently. The door was opened by a young skrayling wearing hornrimmed spectacles. His silver-streaked hair was tied back in a neat queue and he wore a clerk's plain brown tunic and breeches rather than the patterned garb of a merchant. The tattooed lines on his forehead gathered into a frown. "Naismith," the actor-manager said. " The clerk gestured for them to enter, saying something to his master in Vinlandic. Master Cutsnail's chamber took up the whole of the upper floor of one side-wing of the building.

Cutsnail made an approving sound. " Master Naismith gazed at the ceiling. " Cutsnail bared his teeth. " Naismith frowned at Coby and she nodded in confirmation. " Naismith shook his head. " Cutsnail hesitated. " Naismith smiled. "Then you are indeed in luck, sir. " Coby rephrased the question as a statement. She did not think her employer would appreciate her issuing a formal challenge to his business partner. "That is why I wished to invest in your new theatre," the skrayling replied. " "That is not our custom.

And I'd like to keep it that way," Mal replied in a low voice. " The woman smiled at Mal and fingered the lace around her neckline. His eyes lingered for a moment on the curve of her breasts, then he shook his head regretfully. She pouted and walked off down the street, hips swaying. "What business? You haven't had a job since Easter–" Mal stopped dead in his tracks and Ned ran into the back of him. " "Shut up," Mal hissed, clenching his fist, thumb between first and middle fingers in the sign called "the fig".

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