by Lynn Kurland
Praise for
the novels of the Nine Kingdoms
Dreamspinner
“Fascinating, well-drawn characters and vibrant descriptions of magical situations and locations reinforce a vivid, enchanting narrative.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“The writing is classic Lynn Kurland—fluid and graceful.”
—The Romance Reader
“Awe-inspiring . . . The beginnings of a new quest that will be filled with ample quantities of adventure, magic, and peril!”
—RT Book Reviews
“The most enjoyable novel of the Nine Kingdoms to date . . . Lyrical writing, brilliant mental imagery, richly descriptive magic, and larger than life characterization.”
—The Reading Café
Gift of Magic
“The exciting story line is fast-paced from the onset . . . Lynn Kurland spins another fabulous fantasy.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“A magical combination of action, fantasy, and character exploration that is truly wonderful! A journey well worth taking!
—Romantic Times
Spellweaver
“One of the strongest fantasy novels welcoming in the new year.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Kurland weaves together intricate layers of plot threads, giving this novel a rich and lyrical style.”
—Romantic Times
“A magical world with a Celtic setting . . . Beautifully written, this tale is filled with mages, witches, spells, and shape-shifting, but also with plenty of intricate details of the incredible world around them.”
—Romance Reviews Today
A Tapestry of Spells
“Kurland deftly mixes innocent romance with adventure in a tale that will leave readers eager for the next installment.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Captured my interest from the very first page.”
—Night Owl Romance
“Once again [Kurland] uses her gift for place and character to weave an adventurous tale that will have readers breathlessly awaiting the next chapter.”
—Romantic Times
Princess of the Sword
“Beautifully written, with an intricately detailed society born of Ms. Kurland’s remarkable imagination.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“An excellent finish to a great romantic quest fantasy . . . Readers will relish Ms. Kurland’s superb trilogy.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“An intelligent, involving tale full of love and adventure.”
—All About Romance
The Mage’s Daughter
“[A] perfect ten.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Lynn Kurland has become one of my favorite fantasy authors; I can hardly wait to see what happens next.”
—Huntress Reviews
“The Mage’s Daughter, like its predecessor, Star of the Morning, is the best work Lynn Kurland has ever done. I can’t recommend this book highly enough.”
—Fresh Fiction
“I couldn’t put the book down . . . The fantasy world, drawn so beautifully, is too wonderful to miss any of it . . . Brilliant!”
—ParaNormal Romance Reviews
“This is a terrific romantic fantasy. Lynn Kurland provides a fabulous . . . tale that sets the stage for an incredible finish.”
—Midwest Book Review
Star of the Morning
“Kurland launches a stunning, rich, and poetic new trilogy. The quest is on!”
—Romantic Times
“Terrific . . . Lynn Kurland provides fantasy readers with a delightful quest tale starring likable heroes.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Entertaining fantasy.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“An enchanting writer.”
—The Eternal Night
“A superbly crafted, sweetly romantic tale of adventure and magic.”
—Booklist
More praise for the novels of Lynn Kurland
Roses in Moonlight
“Multitalented Kurland serves up her usual delightful blend of adventure, romance, and humor . . . Great, fantastic fun!”
—RT Book Reviews
Till There Was You
“Spellbinding and lovely, this is one story readers won’t want to miss.”
—Romance Reader at Heart
With Every Breath
“Kurland is a skilled enchantress . . . With Every Breath is breathtaking in its magnificent scope, a true invitation to the delights of romance.”
—Night Owl Romance
When I Fall in Love
“Kurland infuses her polished writing with a deliciously dry wit, and her latest time-travel love story is sweetly romantic and thoroughly satisfying.”
—Booklist
Much Ado in the Moonlight
“A consummate storyteller . . . Will keep the reader on the edge of their seat, unable to put the book down until the very last word.”
—ParaNormal Romance Reviews
Dreams of Stardust
“Kurland weaves another fabulous read with just the right amounts of laughter, romance, and fantasy.”
—Affaire de Coeur
A Garden in the Rain
“Kurland . . . consistently delivers the kind of stories readers dream about. Don’t miss this one.”
—The Oakland (MI) Press
From This Moment On
“A disarming blend of romance, suspense, and heartwarming humor, this book is romantic comedy at its best.”
—Publishers Weekly
Titles by Lynn Kurland
STARDUST OF YESTERDAY
A DANCE THROUGH TIME
THIS IS ALL I ASK
THE VERY THOUGHT OF YOU
ANOTHER CHANCE TO DREAM
THE MORE I SEE YOU
IF I HAD YOU
MY HEART STOOD STILL
FROM THIS MOMENT ON
A GARDEN IN THE RAIN
DREAMS OF STARDUST
MUCH ADO IN THE MOONLIGHT
WHEN I FALL IN LOVE
WITH EVERY BREATH
TILL THERE WAS YOU
ONE ENCHANTED EVENING
ONE MAGIC MOMENT
ALL FOR YOU
ROSES IN MOONLIGHT
The Novels of the Nine Kingdoms
STAR OF THE MORNING
THE MAGE’S DAUGHTER
PRINCESS OF THE SWORD
A TAPESTRY OF SPELLS
SPELLWEAVER
GIFT OF MAGIC
DREAMSPINNER
RIVER OF DREAMS
Anthologies
THE CHRISTMAS CAT
(with Julie Beard, Barbara Bretton, and Jo Beverley)
CHRISTMAS SPIRITS
(with Casey Claybourne, Elizabeth Bevarly, and Jenny Lykins)
VEILS OF TIME
(with Maggie Shayne, Angie Ray, and Ingrid Weaver)
OPPOSITES ATTRACT
(with Elizabeth Bevarly, Emily Carmichael, and Elda Minger)
LOVE CAME JUST IN TIME
A KNIGHT’S VOW
(with Patricia Potter, Deborah Simmons, and Glynnis Campbell)
TAPESTRY
(with Madeline Hunter, Sherrilyn Kenyon, and Karen Marie Moning)
TO WEAVE A WEB OF MAGIC
(with Patricia A. McKillip, Sharon Shinn, and Claire Delacroix)
THE QUEEN IN WINTER
(with Sharon Shinn, Claire Delacroix, and Sarah Monette)
A TIME FOR LOVE
Specials
TO KISS IN THE SHADOWS
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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RIVER OF DREAMS
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
Copyright © 2014 by Kurland Book Productions, Inc.
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
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eBook ISBN: 978-1-101-59518-3
An application to register this book for cataloging has been submitted to the Library of Congress.
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / January 2014
Cover art by Dan Craig.
Cover design by George Long.
Map illustration copyright © 2012 by Tara Larsen Chang.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
Contents
Praise
Titles by Lynn Kurland
Title Page
Copyright
Map of the Nine Kingdoms
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
One
There were only five great libraries of note in the Nine Kingdoms. Tor Neroche boasted one, especially when its noble collections were augmented by those at the palace of Chagailt. The library of Buidseachd found itself firmly on that list, of course, due simply to the number and variety of the tomes to be found in the bowels of the magic-slathered castle in Beinn òrain.
Faodail in Gairn required an arduous trek in order to reach its well-tended and jealously guarded shelves, but scholars through the ages had found the journey to be a fair price to pay for the opportunity to linger in a place of such seclusion where they might read in peace. The library at the university at Lismòr contained, arguably, a collection of the finest and most extensive scholarly works available.
But the greatest of them all was the library of Eòlas, in Diarmailt.
The sheer number of books housed there was staggering, as was the depth and breadth of the topics those books contained. A small army of librarians patrolled the hallways and supervised the reading chambers to keep those granted entrance not only supplied with what they had come seeking but to keep the more obstreperous consumers of words on their best behavior.
Most only saw the lower floors where the lesser tomes were housed for perusal by the unwashed masses. The collections became more exclusive—and progressively more hazardous—as the stairs wound upward, until the discriminating peruser of fine manuscripts would find himself on the most exclusive floor of all.
In Perilous Collections.
Aisling of Bruadair stood with her back against the exquisite wooden paneling on that uppermost floor in the great library of Eòlas, looked at the dozen soldiers standing there with arrows and swords pointed her way, and wondered just how in the world she had managed to get herself in her current straits.
Finding herself completely out of her depth had become a terrible habit. That sort of thing had begun almost three fortnights ago when she had been plucked out of her uncomfortable life as an unwilling weaver, dressed as a lad, and then shoved into a carriage that had carried her off to places she had never dreamed she might see for herself. Her task had been straightforward: find a mercenary to save her country from an evil usurper. With the added incentive of a death sentence awaiting her if she didn’t find a lad to hoist a sword in Bruadair’s defense within a certain amount of time, she had continued her quest with all due haste through the western half of the Nine Kingdoms. Her companion for the most of that time had been the man currently standing next to her, trying to look harmless.
In truth, he had no reason to look guilty. They had arrived outside the walls of Eòlas at dawn, hidden their steed, then walked through the gates as nothing more than simple travelers seeking enlightenment, which they were. They had gotten inside the library, she had gawked briefly at the seemingly infinite number of books, then they had set about their business of looking for things to aid them.
Or, rather, things to aid her. The truth was, she had recently come to believe that everything she had been told about her homeland was absolute rubbish. She had to know the truth, because she had the feeling her life depended on it.
Unfortunately, they hadn’t been inside the library an hour before they realized that they had attracted the attention of a few well-garbed library officials. Then, as seemed to be her wont of late, Aisling had found herself thrown from one piece of peril directly into the jaws of another.
Because there was apparently nothing quite as dangerous in the country of Diarmailt as a feisty librarian.
The librarian standing in front of them presently, the head librarian as he had identified himself pointedly, was proof enough of that. The man had appeared suddenly at their table and insisted that they come away from where they’d been calmly and methodically looking through things that found themselves on the first floor whilst discarding as useless tomes that hadn’t offered them what they’d been looking for.
Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely accurate. Her companion had been thumbing calmly through whatever caught his eye; she, on the other hand, had been frantically searching for something to disprove what she’d grown to womanhood believing about curses and the certainty of them falling upon whomever dared set foot beyond Bruadair’s thorny border. It was possible that she had been giving vent to exclamations of increasing dismay as she’d failed.
The librarian had backed up his request with several swords carried by lads who looked as if they meant business with those blades. She and her reading companion had been marched up several flights of stairs until they had wound up in the inner sanctum of the library itself. The assortment of glass cases containing what she could only imagine were priceless treasures of the written word stretched as far as the eye could see. The man standing next to her had begun to purr. Then again, he had a fondness for libraries . . .
“Now,” the head librarian said suddenly, looking at them both as if their sole purpose in his domain were to steal his most valuable personal treasures, “I believe we’ll have a bit of information from you two ruffians.”
“Are things so changed in Diarmailt,” the man standing next to her asked mildly, “that two simple travelers having sacrificed much to enter these doors are greeted with this sort of ridiculous and unnecessary suspicion?”
The head librarian, a Master Laibridh by name, drew himself up indignantly. “You are hardly simple travelers.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“Because of what you have,” the other said shortly.
Aisling frantically struggled to recall everything she had with her, but considering that consisted of two books in a leather satchel slung over her shoulders, she didn’t suppose that was what had gotten them into
trouble. Then again, it was possible that just the sight of those books might send everyone in the area into a hearty case of the vapors.
“What do we have?” her companion asked.
The librarian looked at them shrewdly. “Magic, and don’t spare the breath to deny it.”
“But I don’t have any magic,” Aisling said in surprise.
The librarian frowned at her. “I wasn’t talking about you, though I might have you examined later. I was talking about the man standing next to you.”
That man standing next to her happened to be the second son of the most infamous black mage in the history of the Nine Kingdoms, but Aisling thought it was perhaps prudent not to mention that.
That second son shrugged casually. “I have no magic.”
Aisling looked at Rùnach of Ceangail, son of that black mage and grandson of an elven king—an elven king she imagined was full of some fairly mighty magic himself—and wished she didn’t know he spoke the truth. Unfortunately, Rùnach did indeed have no magic, because his father had taken it all for himself.
Then again, perhaps Rùnach had set alarms to ringing just by virtue of whom he was related to.
“We shall see,” Master Laibridh said shortly.
Rùnach leaned back against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. He might have sighed as well, but Aisling couldn’t be certain of that because all she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears. She supposed she had no reason to be nervous, but then again not only had she almost been killed by one of Rùnach’s bastard brothers the day before, but she only had three days left before she either had to complete her quest or die. The last thing she had time for at the moment was to find herself lingering in a dungeon thanks to the overzealousness of self-important keepers of books.
A beefy-looking man parted the swordsmen and came to a halt next to Master Laibridh. He had large, protruding eyes that matched perfectly his large, protruding nose. Whatever he sniffed likely found itself unable to hide.
“This is Fàileadh,” the librarian said coldly, “and he can smell magic from a league away.”
Aisling felt Rùnach hesitate, then sigh.
“Damn.”
She looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean damn?”
