Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar, Book 3) – Jacquelyn Smith

Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar, Book 3)

Series: The World of Lasniniar

Midnight. The world of Lasniniar lies in silence, except for the patter of the falling rain.

Iarion walks alone on Traitor’s Road. His elven eyes pierce the darkness. The Jagged Mountains loom over him. Their oppressive shadow adds to his unease.

…That, and the goblin arrow wound burning his shoulder.

Goblins. In the heart of the continent, in friendly territory. In Lasniniar, that can only mean one thing.

A warning of dark days to come.

Meet a new generation of heroes in this third novel in the World of Lasniniar epic fantasy series by Jacquelyn Smith.

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This title is also available as part of the Soul Seeker Lasniniar Collection.

Iarion walked alone on Traitor’s Road. Midnight had already come and gone. The world of Lasniniar was silent, except for the patter of the falling rain.

Was he truly alone?

He kept his pointed ears strained for any sound of pursuit. His elven eyes pierced the darkness with ease, twin points of silver-shot sapphire.

Nothing.

Iarion shivered. He was already soaked through. His shoulder throbbed in pain from an arrow wound. He had managed to pull the shaft free, but his left arm hung limp at his side. As far as he could tell, there was no festering burn of poison, but it was difficult to say for certain. Every drop of rain that trickled into his pierced flesh stung.

He cursed his inattention. He was used to traveling alone and taking care of himself. He should know better. But he was in familiar territory and so close to home that he had allowed himself to become complacent.

Had he killed all the goblins? He thought so, but there had been so many. There shouldn’t be any goblins in the midlands, so far from their home in the north. It was a bad sign.

The Jagged Mountains loomed to his left, keeping the road cloaked in darkness. Being Goladain—a Shadow Elf—had its advantages. If anyone was following him, at least his dusky skin and silver braids would make him difficult to spot.

Iarion muttered a curse as he shifted his pack, pulling his injured shoulder. At least Dwarvenhome was close by. He had already planned to visit Barlo before returning to his own kind in Melaralva. Now that visit had become a necessity. He smiled to think of how the dwarf would scold him when he saw Iarion’s wound.

Iarion was careful to maintain his tense vigil for the remainder of the journey. Of his goblin attackers, there was no sign. His aching muscles went slack with relief when the dwarf stronghold came into view. The huge stone entryway was an imposing work of beauty, carved right into the mountainside. It was guarded by several dwarves bearing axes. Various clan tartans were visible among their armor.

One of the older dwarves recognized Iarion and gestured for him to pass, while the younger ones looked on in surprise at their elven visitor.

Had it been that long? Iarion used to know all the guards.

Under the mountain, the polished stone streets were empty. Iarion followed the lamplit route that led to Barlo’s home. Carved reliefs of dwarven history and legend, accented with metal and gems, flickered as he passed. Barlo’s clan lived in the eastern section of the sprawling dwarven city. As Dwarvenhome’s Chief of Clans, Barlo had the largest dwelling.

Iarion arrived at the arched stone doorway marked by a flag of Barlo’s personal tartan and tapped softly with the bronze knocker. After a few moments, he heard the sound of muffled footsteps from inside. The door opened a crack and a pair of sleepy, deep blue eyes peered up at him.

“Narilga,” Iarion whispered in the Common Tongue so as not to wake the dwarven children who slept inside. “It’s me.” The door opened, revealing a dwarven woman with long, tousled black hair wearing a linen shift.

“Iarion.” She nodded a greeting, as though late night elf visitors were a common occurrence. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed his limp arm.

“Well, it seems you’ve gone and gotten yourself injured again. You’d best come in.”

[Copyright © Jacquelyn Smith, 2021]