Friday, April 19, 2013

Queen of Sorcery - #AtoZChallenge




“Read it out loud. If you're not sure whether your 
dialogue sounds natural read it out loud and you'll 
know almost instantly.” 

- Julia Quinn on writing dialogue


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Queen of Sorcery
The Belgariad #2


Belgarath, Garion, Polgara, Durnik, Barak and Silk continue their pilgrimage following the trail of a priest of Torak who has stolen the Orb of Aldur. The priest has the intention of awakening the evil God Torak. Belgarath and Polgara are determined to take back the Orb before this god can be awakened.

The group is soon joined by Hettar, who brings the horses to aid them in quicker travel. He is a man that has the ability to talk to horses. He also hates all Murgos and has sworn to kill every one that he runs across. After traveling through Arendia, they enter Tolnedra and are joined by Mandorallen, a fierce knight who fears nothing.

Princess Ce'Nedra runs away from here ailing father with the intention of not going to present herself to the throne room at Riva, where she is bound to go on her sixteenth birthday. Garion is then stolen by the Queen of Nyissa to be used as her personal slave. And since he is continually served a drug that makes him lethargic, he has now way of informing Aunt Pol where he is . . . and has no inclination to escape.



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Excerpt:


With a bland smile, the Grolim priest slapped Aunt Pol sharply across the face. "You really must control your tongue, Polgara," Asharak said.

Garion's brain seemed to explode. He felt a terrible force building in him, and the image of Asharak wrapped in seething flame stood before him.

"Now!" commanded the dry voice with his mind. "Do it!"

Garion swung his right arm. As his palm struck the Grolim's scarred left cheek, he felt the force surge out from the silvery mark on his palm. "Burn!" he commanded.

For an instant, Asharak stared at Garion in horror, and then his face contorted in agony. His cheek began to smoke and seethe where Garion's hand had touched it. Wisps of smoke drifted from his black robe. Then he shrieked and clutched at his face. His fingers burst into flame.

"Master," he croaked. "Have mercy!"






2 comments:

  1. I can only wish I had such an imagination to write such interesting stories.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love the quote at the beginning of your post. I've been doing just that lately and I think my writing is better for it.

    ReplyDelete