Cast in Ruin. Michelle Sagara

Cast in Ruin - Michelle  Sagara


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      Praise for New York Times bestselling author MICHELLE SAGARA and The Chronicles of Elantra series

      “No one provides an emotional payoff like Michelle Sagara. Combine that with a fast-paced police procedural, deadly magics, five very different races and a wickedly dry sense of humor—well, it doesn’t get any better than this.”

      —Bestselling author Tanya Huff on The Chronicles of Elantra series

      “Intense, fast-paced, intriguing, compelling and hard to put down…unforgettable.”

      —In the Library Reviews on Cast in Shadow

      “Readers will embrace this compelling, strong-willed heroine with her often sarcastic voice.”

      —Publishers Weekly on Cast in Courtlight

      “The impressively detailed setting and the book’s spirited heroine are sure to charm romance readers as well as fantasy fans who like some mystery with their magic.”

      —Publishers Weekly on Cast in Secret

      “Along with the exquisitely detailed world building, Sagara’s character development is mesmerizing. She expertly breathes life into a stubborn yet evolving heroine. A true master of her craft!”

      —RT Book Reviews (4 ½ stars) on Cast in Fury

      “With prose that is elegantly descriptive, Sagara answers some longstanding questions and adds another layer of mystery. Each visit to this amazing world, with its richness of place and character, is one to relish.”

      —RT Book Reviews (4 ½ stars) on Cast in Silence

      “Another satisfying addition to an already vivid and entertaining fantasy series.”

      —Publishers Weekly on Cast in Chaos

      Cast in Ruin

      Michelle Sagara

       www.mirabooks.co.uk

      I’d like to dedicate this book to the Harlequin/LUNA team.

      Editorial—

       Mary-Theresa Hussey, Elizabeth Mazer, Margo Lipschultz and Tara Parsons;

      Art—

       Kathleen Oudit, Vanessa Karabegovic and Shane Rebenschied;

      Marketing—

       Marianna Ricciuto, Ashley Reid and Diana Wong;

      and the Harlequin Sales Group

      as well as all the others who touch the book behind the scenes.

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER 1

      CHAPTER 2

      CHAPTER 3

      CHAPTER 4

      CHAPTER 5

      CHAPTER 6

      CHAPTER 7

      CHAPTER 8

      CHAPTER 9

      CHAPTER 10

      CHAPTER 11

      CHAPTER 12

      CHAPTER 13

      CHAPTER 14

      CHAPTER 15

      CHAPTER 16

      CHAPTER 17

      CHAPTER 18

      CHAPTER 19

      CHAPTER 20

      CHAPTER 21

      CHAPTER 22

      CHAPTER 23

      CHAPTER 24

      EPILOGUE

      ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

      CHAPTER 1

      The worst thing about near-world-ending disasters according to Sergeant Marcus Kassan—at least the ones that had miraculously done very little damage—was the paperwork they generated. Two departments over, the Hawks required to man desks visible—and accessible—to the public would probably have disagreed. Vehemently. In Leontine.

      In the day and a half since four very large Dragons, a small army, and every Sword on the roster had converged on Elani street, there’d been a steady stream of people coming to the office that bordered Missing Persons to make complaints, demand redress, or simply ask for some assurance that the world had not, in fact, ended. The numbers of civilian complaints had, in theory, peaked.

      Theory, as usual, was invented by some bureaucrat in a high tower who didn’t have to actually deal with said complaints. Private Neya, however, wasn’t even Corporal, let alone lofty bureaucrat. She was part of the emergency shift of Hawks who’d been crammed into a workspace—already tight to begin with—in order to deal with the civilians. The Hawks who regularly manned these desks were generally older and certainly better suited to the task.

      They appeared to appreciate the help about as much as the help appreciated being there.

      “You’re beat Hawks,” her Sergeant had growled. For some of the officers who worked in the Halls of Law, growl would be figurative. In the case of Kaylin Neya, it was literal: her Sergeant was a Leontine. “You deal with the public every day.”

      “Right. We deal with the public accused of stealing, mugging, and murder.” All in all, it didn’t give the brightest window into the human condition. When Sergeant Kassan failed to even blink, she added, “You know them—they’re the people I don’t have to worry about offending?”

      Marcus, however, had failed to be moved. Kaylin had not, which is why she currently occupied half a stranger’s desk.

      “You were assigned to Elani,” he pointed out. “At the moment, Elani is still—”

      “Under quarantine. Yes. I realize that.”

      “Since you can’t do your job there for the next few days, you can make yourself useful in the front rooms, since we are still paying you.”

      Not surprisingly, many of the reports delivered by timid, angry, or deranged civilians involved descriptions of a giant Dragon roaming the streets. His color varied from report to report, as did his activities; he reportedly breathed fire, ate people—or at least large, stray dogs—and leveled buildings. He was alternately the usual Dragon size—which, to be fair, was not small—or giant; he was also deafening.

      This last part was accurate. The rest, not so much. Kaylin, of course, knew the Dragon being described. Dragons were forbidden, by law, from assuming their native forms within the City of Elantra without express permission from the Eternal Emperor. Lord Tiamaris, however, had received that dispensation. He was, the last time she’d seen him, a shade that approached copper. He did have an impressive wingspan, but none of the eyewitnesses had claimed to see him fly.

      Most of the witnesses, however, claimed that Tiamaris led a small army. The descriptions of this army varied almost as widely as descriptions of Tiamaris himself. The word Barbarian came up almost as often as Savage, but both ran a distant second and third to Giant. She particularly liked the two people—who had come in together and were shoving each other in between sentences—who claimed that they were an army of the shambling undead. Their size was, according to these civilian reports, all over the map; their numbers ranged from “lots” to “fifty thousand.” Most accounts agreed, however, that the strangers were armed.

      This last had the benefit of being accurate. The strangers—or refugees—themselves were, as far as anyone knew, newcomers to the world—the idea that this was a world, rather than the only world being almost as new to most of the authorities as the refugees themselves. According to the Palace, and more important, to Lord Sanabalis, the refugees


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