The Amulet - Book 1 of The Immortals Trilogy

Prolouge

Swords clashed and mingled with the cries and groans of the wounded and dying.

Fierce storm clouds churned in black waves to block the sun on what should've been a warm spring day, while thick fog shrouded the top of the mountain like a cloak of death. Broken furniture and ripped tapestries were scattered among the debris of the Faylian palace and looked bleak in the muted light.

At the base of the east tower, Jareth drummed his long fingers against the heavy oak door, as he waited for his friend, Kayza, to return. She'd dashed back into the tower minutes before to ensure it was empty, after a group of women and their fledglings took refuge there. When the battle reached fever pitch, the walls began to crumble, and the women used their magic to hold the tower together until the worst of the fighting passed.

Wind howled between the rubble and sent icy fingers deep into Jareth's bones. He pulled his raven wings in closer to his body to insulate himself against the cold. He watched a group of women Kayza saved scramble over the rubble and disappear into the gloom, and he pressed his lips together in a tight line. The pungent smell of charred timber, fabric and flesh filled the air and burned the back of his throat, while fine mortar dust filled his mouth with grit.

Jareth was tall for a Faylian, at one hundred and eighty-eight centimetres, with a strong jaw, shoulder length black hair and violet eyes. His broad shoulders and deep, muscular chest tapered down to slim hips and long, powerful legs. Blood and dirt caked his trousers and knee-high leather boots.

His solid black wings were another rare feature. Wing patterns and colours were passed down through the male side of the family. However, his father's wings were fawn and grey. He always suspected Myrax and Gwyn weren't his real parents, and never questioned their decision to keep this fact a secret from him.

Footsteps echoed through the tower, and he turned expecting to see Kayza, only to find the stairs empty.

'Come on,' he muttered. He ran his hand through his damp hair pushing it off his face. Narrowing his eyes, he continued to study the destruction around him. For two hundred years the palace was his home and it outraged him to see it reduced to rubble.

Nine years ago, the King's son Eelios constructed the Amulet of Power; killed his family and took the throne for himself. This act of atrocity stunned everyone, as his personality changed overnight. He went from being a shy well-liked man, to someone to fear. Their world was plunged into chaos as he enslaved his own people as well as the groundling Ikarians who lived below the mountains.

Jareth turned away from the crumpled bodies littering the ground around him as Kayza appeared at the bottom of the stairs and hurried towards him alone.

Her blonde hair hung limply around her dirty face.

Stopping in front of him, she craned her neck to look up at him, her pale grey eyes searching his face.

'What happened?' she demanded as she gripped his wrist with a strength which belied her petite size. 'Why did the attack on Eelios start early? We'd barely begun the evacuation.' The skin around her eyes bunched as she gave him a pained expression.

'Some of the Council members bungled an independent attack on his life,' Jareth said. He refused to hide the disgust in his voice.

'Idiots,' she groaned. 'All we needed was one hour and the city would've been empty. Do they realise how many people they've killed?'

Her father, Archprime Hamlin, the Faylians head priest, spent the last year secretly gathering the support of the Zetheran people to prepare for the attack against Eelios and his followers. The support was overwhelming. One way or another, Eelios' cruelty affected everyone in the city. Even the most placid of people would find the determination in them to kill Eelios if the opportunity presented itself.