title: Shapers of Darkness: Book Four of Winds of the Forelands
author:  David B. Coe 
description: Magical conspiracies run rampant in book four of Coe's Winds of the Forelands series (<I>Rules of Ascension</I>, etc.). Young Tavis of Curgh, judged a traitor by his former friends thanks to the evil Qirsi mastermind known as the Weaver, has joined forces with the mysterious Qirsi shaper Grinsa jal Arriet in a desperate quest to uncover the Weaver's true identity. Meanwhile, the Weaver's agents skillfully manipulate the lords of the Forelands, splintering formerly stable alliances and stirring up distrust and civil unrest. Fearing treachery within his own ranks, the Weaver has ordered the spy Keziah to murder his former agent, Cresenne ja Terba, now Grinsa's lover. Little does the Weaver know, Keziah has already turned on him and joined others determined to defeat the Qirsi wizard. While those familiar with previous events will welcome the increasingly complex plot, new readers are likely to find themselves often referring to the volume's character list. Fans of Terry Goodkind's brand of fantasy intrigue will be pleased. <BR>Copyright &copy; Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
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  Call of Sunteri
  
  Keepers of the Wellsprings, Book Two
  
  Missy Sheldrake
  
  Independently Published
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
    
  
  Chapter One: Flame and Sea
  
  Tib
  
  Filth and grunge. Rats. Rot. Bones. Cobbles. Stench. Sobbing. Striking.
  Silence.
  
  “Climb the wall.”
  
  Yes, climb the wall. My feet are swift and sure in the darkness as I leap and
  cling to the rough stone. They find each crevice perfectly, anchoring me as I
  push myself up. Climbing feels good. Free. The higher I go, the better I can
  see the city stretched out before me. In the dye fields, they tell stories of
  Zhaghen with eyes full of awe. How beautiful it is. How majestic. For me, it’s
  a place that breeds greed. Cruel. Twisted. Soiled.
  
  “Higher.”
  
  Yes, higher. The towers are dark tonight, unprotected. Not as scary as I
  thought they’d be, stretching up into the sky. I creep closer to a slotted
  window and pause. Sniff. The air here is thick with the scent of old paper.
  Books. A fan of shining black hair flicks into my memory