Praise for the novels of
ROBIN D. OWENS
âA multi-faceted, fast-paced gem of a book.â
âThe Best Reviews on Guardian of Honor
âThis book will enchant readers who enjoy strong heroines.â
âRT Book Reviews on Sorceress of Flight
âFans of Anne McCaffrey and Mercedes Lackey will appreciate the novelâs honorable protagonists and their lively animal companions.â
âPublishers Weekly on Protector of the Flight
âStrong characterization combined with deadly danger make this story vibrate with emotional resonance. Stay tuned as events accelerate toward the final battle.â
âRT Book Reviews on Keepers of the Flame
âA glorious end to the series.â
Wild on Books Reviews on Echoes in the Dark
A late January night, Denver
JENNI WEAVERSâS SKIN PRICKLED AS THE heaviness of ancient earth magic crossed her front boundary and marched up her sidewalk to her front porch.
A dwarf was at the door. The magical kind of dwarf, from the Lightfolk. He waited for her to acknowledge him. He could wait forever. She wasnât budging from her second-floor office.
The doorbell rang, a fruity ripple of notes that sheâd gotten used to since sheâd bought the house, and had begun to actually like. She would not open the door. Sheâd been dodging phone calls from strange numbers for days. The doorbell sounded again. She stared out the window, nothing to see but dark, no moon tonight, and her neighborsâ windows werenât lit. The doorbell rang a third time. And the clear phone on her desk lit up and trilled. And her cell in her bedroom warbled âThe Ride of the Valkyries.â She was afraid if she answered the door the tune might become all too appropriate.
She set her teeth, turned up her computer speakers and continued typing. The final tweaks to the new little story line for the mass multiplayer online game were due tonight.
Her computer died an unnatural death.
A supernatural death.
A touch-of-fey death.
She stared at it openmouthed.
The ringing and ringing and ringing went on.
Stomping downstairs in her fuzzy slippers, she peered out the peephole and saw no one, not on the drafty covered porch or the stoop beyond. Definitely a full-blooded dwarf if she couldnât see him.
Another bad sign.
She shouldnât open the door, but didnât think the dwarf would go away or her computer would come back on until she responded to all the noise.
Her cell tune changed to âHall of the Mountain King.â She hadnât programmed that in.
Hard raps against the doorâof course he wouldnât use the silver Hand of Fatima knocker.
Knowing she was making a mistake, she opened the door. Recognized and stared down at a dapperly dressed dwarf in a dark gray tux. Drifmar. âWhat part of ânever darken my door againâ did you Lightfolk not understand?â
He smiled ingratiatingly, addressed her by her birth name. âMistress Jindesfarne Mistweaver, weâve found a pair of brownies whoâd indenture themselves to you, despite your many cats. A token of our esteem.â He swept a hand toward two small beingsâshorter and thinner than the four-foot solidly built dwarfâshivering in the late-January cold. The long tips of their furry ears folded in for warmth. Both male and female were dressed only in white shorts and sleeveless tops.
Jenni looked at the goodwill offering. They were scrawny and wrinkled. Their triangular faces and equally large and usually triangular ears and small vicious pointy teeth made them look as mean as wet cats. They wrapped their arms around themselves and leaned together.
âI donât need household help,â she said. âI am a productive member of human society, I have a cleaning team every month.â
âYou have a squirrel hole in your eaves above the door,â Drifmar, the dwarf, pointed out.
âI like the squirrel hole,â Jenni insisted. âI like the squirrels.â
The brownies perked up.
The dwarf bowed. âMistress Jindesfarne, we have great problems.â
âAlways great problems around. No.â She slammed the door.
He stuck his foot in it and the door splintered. He smiled with naturally red teeth. âNow you need the brownies.â
The brownies were looking hopeful, big brown eyes blinking at her, their thin lips turning black with cold.
Drifmar said, âYou need the brownies and we need you. Letâs talk.â
âNo.â
âWe will make it worth your while.â
With just that sentence he ripped the scab sheâd thought was a scar off the wound. Hot tears flooded her constricting throat. Her fingers trembled on the doorknob. âNo. My familyâmy once happy, large familyâtalked with you fifteen years ago. Then we went on a mission to balance elemental energies while the royals opened a dimensional gate. My family died.â All except her older brother, who blamed her for the fiasco, but not more than she blamed herself.