The Book of the Wing by Eric R. Asher

The Book of the Wing

The Book of the Wing by Eric R. Asher (Vesik #15)
English | 2020 | Fantasy | ePUB| 2.8 MB

Eric is a former bookseller, cellist, and comic seller currently living in Saint Louis, Missouri. A lifelong enthusiast of books, music, toys, and games, he discovered a love for the written word after being dragged to the library by his parents at a young age.

A cryptic map. A lost coin. A threat emerges from the battlefield of the past…
Investigating clues hidden in an ancient mosaic beneath Falias, Foster and Zola are taken east to blood-soaked lands the old necromancer hoped never to return to. What awaits the battle weary warriors in Antietam can only be described as a field of death.
The Utukku who guard those sacred grounds are not alone. Yet even with the support of the Irish Brigade, the Fae armory may be no match for the enemies rising against them. If their forces fall, the last hope of obtaining the tetradrachm will be crushed. But when an enemy-turned-ally arrives to help, Bloody Lane will earn its title once more.

Zola tightened the braided rope belt at her waist before she reached out to Vicky, dragging the teenager into a bone-crushing hug. “You take care of yourself, girl. Watch over Damian, but you take care of you first.”

Vicky wrapped her arms around the old Cajun. She didn’t like the idea of splitting up the group, but it didn’t look like they were going to avoid it. “Are you sure you have to go back to Falias?”

Zola gently pried Vicky’s arms away. “We have to find out what’s at the other end of that mosaic beneath Falias. If Ward’s right, and it’s a map, we need the rest of it.”

“Someone from the Obsidian Inn could check on it for us,” Luna said.

“Ah don’t trust anyone else’s eyes, girl,” Zola said with a small smile. “Ah’m going there myself, and if Ah’m wrong, Ah’ll be wrong with my own damn eyes.”

“The green men are rallying to Falias,” the innkeeper said. “They know of you, should you have the need.”

Zola gathered her braided hair, the small silvery gray charms clinking together as she bound them and slipped them beneath the hood of her cloak. “Ah wondered why Stump has been so quiet.”

“Oh, he’s somewhere about here still. They’ve set a perimeter, down to the river and out close to the old battlefield. Anything shows up unexpectedly, it’s not going to have a good day.”

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