(From the publisher):
What Ulaume heard made no sense. He heard a horse scream. He smelled cordite. He saw blood running across sandy soil, dark blood, from somewhere deep inside. The sight of it touched him, moved him and he felt something he'd never felt before. He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't fear. He saw the face of Pellaz, as he'd appeared when Ulaume had first met him, his eyes full of curiosity and desire. Ulaume's essence was drawn towards those eyes. This time their welcome would not turn to ice. But when Ulaume reached them, they were glazed over and dull. They were dead.
'Ulaume!' Rough hands shook his body, hauled him to his feet. Someone slapped his face hard. 'Ulaume! Come out of it! Come back!'
Ulaume blinked, gulped air, sucked it into his body in a powerful rush. Sound and movement hurtled back, his stilled heart raced frantically. The night was confusion and riot around him. He saw Lianvis' face before him, pinched with concern, and slumped against his body.
'What happened?' Lianvis demanded.
Ulaume raised his head, shook it slowly from side to side. The movement filled him with nausea. 'Tell me,' Lianvis said in a low voice. 'I must know.'
Ulaume wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. 'He's dead,' he said. 'That's all you need to know.'
Original title: The Wraiths of Will and Pleasure
Genre: Fiction→ Fantasy→ Dark Fantasy
Fiction→ Fantasy→ Paranormal Powers→ Telepathy, Etc.