FRACTION OF STONE by Kelley Lynn
Released March 2013 by Sapphire Star Publishing
You can find FRACTION OF STONE at:
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fraction-of-stone-kelley-lynn/1114783120?ean=9781938404375
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Fraction-Stone-Kelley-Lynn/dp/1938404378/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1377207861&sr=8-1&keywords=Fraction+of+STone
Fraction of Stone
Chapter 1 – Fight For Those Who Own You
The chains around her wrists jingled, echoing off the stone walls, a cheery sound out of place. If she closed her eyes and moved her arms again it would be as if she were listening to a wind chime, twittering in the breeze. But the cold metal was not a wind chime. It was a tether, a leash, holding her captive in the belly of her city.
She moved her hand along the wall, her room, where she slept, she ate. The drugs suspending her in a state with no emotion, a state she was so used to it felt more real than normal. A respite.
The cell swayed and whirled, like a small boat in the ocean. Light through the only window danced on her bracelets, teased of life. Something she’d never had. Her existence wasn’t hers.
Scraping of the heavy wooden door down the hall caused her head to rise, searching for the person among the sea of swirling colors. Her handler’s eyes spun around his face, weaving between his nose and ears, dipping into the scar which sliced through his sneer.
“It is time again, girl. Your people need you.”
His large hand wrapped around her thin arm, yanking her to her feet, catching her as she nearly collapsed. Through the haze she could tell she wasn’t ready, the exhaustion still too great. But they would force her to fight anyway.
She was only aware of the increasing light and the rising temperature as they ascended the spiral staircase and emerged into the palace. A grand and exquisite place, pure white on every wall and fixture. Chandeliers dipped from the ceiling. Pillars holding up walls so perfect, a scratch or blemish would catch the eye of anyone walking through.
The people in the hall cowered and moved away, their angelic faces and white, silk robes disappearing behind doors. Her grey, woolen attire a giveaway she didn’t belong, wasn’t welcomed in their presence. The man corralled her down the hallway and out of the palace, chaining her wrists to the metal bars in the window of the awaiting carriage.
She didn’t resist as he poured the liquid down her throat. It was an almost immediate transformation and the exhaustion increased tenfold. She was fully aware, fully herself and completely drained of hope or fervor.
Not a warrior to carry the fate of the war.
Draylan, her handler, held out a glass of water, no look of pity on his worn and aged face. They were at war, no one was pitied. Everyone did what had to be done to survive.
Akara muttered her thanks as she accepted the drink, finally able to remember something as simple as her name now that the drugs were removed from her system. The cool water did not offer relief as it coursed through her insides. The fever and sizzling on her skin was not from dehydration. It was from being used, a tool to fight for a people who called her slave.
“The enemy has covered much ground since last night and the boy is back with his men,” Draylan informed her in a low, scratchy monotone. He stole a glance out the carriage window, surveying the landscape, the battle as they ascended the hill. “We need you to force them back.”
