Eclipse
– The Lost Book of Ascension
What They Say
Can you see the story breathing?
What happens if the days keep getting
shorter?
And shorter?
Until there is an eternal night?
What happens as the darkness grows?
And the creatures of dusk take control
of the Mountain?
And the quest for the third Book is the
only hope?
The Mountain is in its death throes as the
Nazir send their wraiths to finish what the dusk-rats and grale had begun. Soon
there will be no daylight to protect the Maelir and Faemir, and with each
twilight there are fewer places to hide. Will the Mountain finally collapse
under its own instability or will Atreu and Verlinden’s descent find the words
of salvation in the Lost Book of Ascension?
About The Author
Dirk Strasser has won
multiple Australian Publisher Association Awards and a Ditmar for Best
Professional Achievement. His short story, “The Doppelgänger Effect”, appeared
in the World Fantasy Award-winning anthology, Dreaming Down Under. His fiction
has been translated into a number of languages. His acclaimed fantasy trilogy, The Books of Ascension
– Zenith, Equinox and Eclipse – has been
published in English (Pan Macmillan / Momentum) and German (Heyne). A
collection of his short stories, Stories of the Sand, will be published in
November. His most recent short story publications have been “The Mandelbrot Bet”
in the Tor anthology Carbide Tipped Pens, “At Dawn’s Speed” in Dimension6 #2, and “2084” in the
international anthology The
World to Come. He founded the Aurealis Awards and has co-published and
co-edited Aurealis
magazine over 20 years.
Eclipse excerpt:
Chapter One
‘Run,’ cried the
Watcher. ‘They’re coming again.’
The cobblestones
shifted under them and several of the soldiers lost their footing.
‘Run!’ cried the
Faemir again, and Hrulth led the charge towards the Maelir stronghold. All
around them, buildings were collapsing in the darkness. Cluric had sheathed his
sword to allow himself to run more freely. Somehow he knew instinctively that
if this came to a fight, he would be lost.
Horrific
bellowing noises, which he knew from bitter experience were grale, filled the
night sky. This time they were accompanied by a droning undercurrent that was
totally unfamiliar. Cluric didn’t look back. He kept his eyes on the street, watching
for the potholes and chasms that opened up in his path.
The Maelir
barricades were in sight now. Cluric saw the torches burning in front of him.
More bellows vaulted into the sky, and he felt his shoulder aching as he ran.
Not far to go, he muttered, as he felt himself dropping behind the others. Not
far to go.
The street under
his feet buckled and he fell.
‘Cluric!’ Hrulth
called.
‘I’m all right.
Go ahead.’ But Hrulth was already by his side, helping him up.
‘Are you hurt?’
asked Hrulth.
‘I think I
bruised my knee,’ said Cluric, ‘but I can still put my weight on it. Come on.’
They dashed for
the Maelir stronghold, aware that just behind them, Dusk creatures were pouring
out of the ground and into the streets of Peleusar.
The rest of the
patrol cheered as the pair finally reached the barricades.
‘You are fools,’
cried the Faemir Watcher. ‘This is only the beginning. Get the fires started.
It’s the only thing that will stop them.’
Hrulth spoke
frantically to the other battalion leaders and the orders to start fires were
given.
As Cluric stared
out into the blackness, he could see blood-red eyes moving like disembodied
spectres through the alleys of Peleusar. The Faemir Watcher, the hated enemy,
stood next to him, and he felt her fear.
‘You are the
first Faemir I’ve ever seen who was afraid,’ he said.
She looked at
him, shivering. ‘Am I also the first Faemir you’ve seen without a weapon in her
hand?’
Cluric nodded.
‘Then I don’t
see why you’re so surprised.’
‘You said you
were attacked by something worse than grale and Dusk-rats,’ said Cluric. ‘What
is it that terrifies you so much?’
The Watcher
closed her eyes as if she was trying to ward off a vision, and uttered a single
word: ‘Wraiths.’
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