Spotlight
Readers call The Last of the Ageless "a strong debut" and "a breath of fresh air," likening it to Stephen King's Dark Tower series.
Three centuries ago, humans and aliens fought for control of the Earth, ending in the apocalypse. Now, the mutated survivors scratch out a meager existence. Hoarding ancient technology and wielding weapons they barely understand, the strong subjugate the weak.
A handful of travelers--Nyr, a mutant with the claws, fangs, and fur of a savage tigress; Dalan, a shapeshifter; and the slave Korreth--must come together to defeat their true enemy, the Ageless, a tribe that may know the secrets of the apocalypse itself.
Excerpt
Raising her eyebrows, Nyr smiled wryly. “You saved the life of someone you don’t even know. And you’re pretty timid around bodies.”
“So, what…” Dalan paused, remembering to phrase his words carefully to this strange Changeling. “Am I supposed to revel in killing?”
From the corner of his eye, he noticed the twitch of Saquey’s wings, but it remained on the rock. Nyr’s eyes widened. Her slit pupils expanded, the only sign she wasn’t Purebred. “This world is made of violence. We must repay it in kind sooner or later, boy. Denying it just shows your weakness. A Purebreed should know that more than anyone.”
“In my tribe, we use subtler means of defending ourselves.” Dalan tensed, trying to avoid revealing too much. “We believe in the Ancient Teachings, which condone killing in only two cases. The first is in defense of life. In this situation,” he gestured to the bodies, “mine. Yesterday, yours.” The fire’s heat plastered his pants against his legs, and he took a step back. He hoped his bait would draw her thoughts away.
“And the second reason? You said there were two.”
“The second reason for killing?” Dalan resisted a victorious smile. “Vengeance for life taken.” But his mirth faded. Vengeance had led him to his first kill, a memory he tried not to think about. “That makes no sense.” Nyr scuffed up sand and collected it in a cup.
“Why not?” Dalan picked up his pack and slung it over his shoulder.
“Because,” she said, pouring the sand over the fire, “if they kill one of your friends, you can take vengeance on them, right? What’s to stop them from taking vengeance right back? That’s how you start blood feuds.”
“No vengeance for vengeance. Only the elders can give permission to a person seeking vengeance for a family member’s unjust murder.”
Her lips curved up in a smile. “Your tribe is foolish. You and your people may follow those rules, but no one else will. Your elders hold no sway over someone from a different tribe who seeks retribution.” Reflected in her eyes, the final flames died. “It’s better to stamp your enemies out, like we did tonight.
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