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Journey of the Last Prophet

by Cassandra L. Holroyd

279 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-0564; ISBN 1-4120-0196-X; US$24.50, C$27.83, EUR20.00, £14.00

Novel reveals a forgotten darkness that spells doom for the divided nation of Cumerous. A time of turmoil is inevitable if not for one prophet, the nation's last hope.

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpt      catalogue info

About the Book Within the divided land of Cumerous, where each city has its own set of laws and rulers, an epic adventure is brewing as a terrific army threatens all life within Cumerous's borders. Cumerous is a land on the world of Vashundhara, where thousands of years ago a war between gods brought about the destruction of all unity between races. This tale begins when Quinn, a sorcerer of deadly magic, uses a huge army to try and conquer Cumerous and a magical land called Nexivian. The races unite when an isolated forest boy, a band of broken mercenaries, two powerful fairies, and a mysterious group of elves, race against time to stop the destruction of their homeland by the hands of Quinn. WHat no one realizes, however, is that a greater power lies in wait, one that could destroy the world of Vashundhara if not stopped. Within this cloud of chaos steps a lone figure: A prophet. As the last of his race, he might be the only strand of hope the world has left.

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About the Author Cassandra Holroyd was born on October 20th, 1985, publishing her novel at the early age of seventeen. Finishing her final school year this June at G.N.S., she is excited to finally be out of high school and to figure out what she wnst fo her future. Her vivid imagination pushed her into writing Journey of the Last prophet two years before it was finally published. Cassandra once never enjoyed reading and writing, in fact it was always her weakest subject in elementary school. However, her parents helped her along, and she encourages other to indulge themselves in a little fantasy.

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Sample Excerpt

Prologue

The shadow crept out of the dark alley and on cat's feet darted across the street. Her destination was another block away but anticipation was already taking its deadly hold. She took a deep breath and calmed herself, focusing her strength and concentration on the task ahead. No screw-ups tonight, darling, she thought to herself, or Master Quinn will be ever so angry! With a wicked grin, she pushed off and sprinted the last stretch. The mayor's house was a guarded fortress, but to a trained assassin it was a walk in the park. Patience, stealth, surprise, and darkness were an assassin's tools. All in good time, they'd always get their man.

The shadow once again detached herself from her hiding place, and easily vaulted the house's perimeter wall. She landed without a noise in the shadows of an oak placed within the outer courtyard of the mayor's gardens. At the next gap between the guard patrols, she hoisted herself up into the tree's branches. Without hesitation, for that would lead to failure, she walked across a branch and easily dropped into the inner courtyard.

A guard patrol padded around the next corner, she could just barely make out the clink of steel armour and the rough murmurings of voices. Hidden amongst the darkness of a garden, the shadow watched a small patrol come into view about thirty paces to her right. They marched until their leader signalled to spread out and scout the surrounding area. The shadow stilled herself, even her breathing. She willed her heart to slow and beat silent. She could feel it in her chest, beating against her bones, loud enough in her own ears to wake even the mayor himself. However the guards took no notice and, lazy as some tend to be, did not scout too deep into the dark garden.

When the patrol had passed, the shadow slithered to the wall of the stone house and quickly pushed her way through an open window. She had studied the interior layout of the house before she had undertaken the mission. It was a huge mansion, with two kitchens, five bedrooms, one study, three sitting rooms, and five storages for food. While tons of people in this world are starving and working for no money, they're sitting on their lazy asses getting fat. Doesn't seem fair. I'll be glad when I am done with this job. Pushing all her personal feelings aside, the assassin started off down the corridor.

She darted down to the study, locked the door behind her, and then jumped up on the mayor's desk with practiced grace. The guard patrols within the mansion changed frequently and the assassin could not trust if her informer had been right about this night's patrol. She would be in big trouble with her Master, even more than she was already in, if someone were to stumble in on her now. She looked up at the ceiling and found what she was looking for. The house was built with a furnace for heat that fed into each room through ventilation shafts. Taking a dagger out of her pocket, the woman set to work prying open the vent. It would not budge. Removing the scarf that held her golden hair in place, she wrapped it over the butt of her dagger. Retrieving a rock from her sling bag, she took aim and smacked the rock hard on the dagger, wedging it deeper into the crevice. Still nothing happened.

Raucous laughter could be heard two rooms down, along with the sound of a dozen boots. The guards, she thought frantically. With double the effort she dug her dagger into the crack and pulled with all her strength. She swore under her breath when the vent would not come loose. I am not going to make it! The guards could be heard in the next room now, and it would only be a couple more minutes before they would find her. Damn. Searching the mayor's room with calculating eyes, the assassin spotted a hard covered book and stepped from the desk to grab it. The guards had just closed the door to the adjacent room. She hit the dagger as hard as she could with the heavy book. A satisfying click told the assassin that the vent had finally given out. The guards could be heard rounding the next corner. After placing the vent on the desktop, and with a strength that challenged her size, she hoisted herself into the shaft. Hooking her feet to the sides of the ventilation shaft, she dropped down the opening head first, to go back for the vent. It weighed like a brick and she was now sweating freely. When she finally managed to place the vent into the shaft and lift herself back up, the guards were fumbling with their keys outside. A click could be heard from the direction of the door, while the girl was trying to place the vent into the hole. It won't go back in! The door could be seen opening, and six guardsmen strolled into the room. Please don't look up! Please don't look!

It only took the guards one look of the seemingly undisturbed room to leave.

Veranas allowed herself to smile.

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Catalogue Information

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