By David Dalglish

From USA Today bestselling writer David Dalglish
One has conquered a urban. the opposite covets a complete nation.
In booklet #3 of the Shadowdance sequence, Haern is the King's Watcher, protector opposed to thieves and nobles who could fill the evening with blood. but countless numbers of miles away, an murderer referred to as the Wraith has began slaughtering these in strength, leaving the emblem of the Watcher in mockery. while Haern travels south to confront this copycat, he reveals a urban governed by way of the corrupt, the grasping and the harmful. Rioters fill the streets, and the specter of battle hangs over every thing. To forge peace, Haern needs to confront the lethal Wraith, a killer who may form the kingdom's destiny with the blade of his sword.
Man or God; what occurs while the strains are blurred?
Fantasy writer David Dalglish spins a story of retribution and darkness, and an underworld attaining for final strength within the 3rd novel of the Shadowdance sequence, formerly published as A Dance of Death.

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Additional resources for A Dance of Mirrors (Shadowdance, Book 3)

Sample text

Did you look at the sky or at the trees? Did you foul your clothes in fear, did you feel any fear at all? What were your last words? Did you cry? I sought my death and found it in my womb, I looked for life and saw it was a shade, I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb, And now I die, and now I was but made; My glass is full, and now my glass is run, And now I live, and now my life is done. Chidiock Tichborne, if I die in fifty years or a hundred, I will be as young to my world as you were to yours.

I heard Paul lifting luggage from the upper bedroom balcony to the hopper. Soon Jenny joined him. They worked in silence. When I thought they were finished I slung my bag over my shoulder and clattered upstairs. Jenny had already left, the hopper gliding down the road, secure in its webs of force. I stowed my bag in the back of my car. “I guess I’ll be going down with you,” Paul said, smiling. His face was easy, body tense. “Okay. ” He climbed into the passenger seat, pulled the safety webbing about him, and gripped the seat, prepared to defy death.

He nodded and continued staring. Someone on the Ilium, no doubt, had told them that I was off having my valves reamed today, had described in hushed tones their various misconceptions about my cleaning-out. I hoped that it had been Greville rather than Tobias; Greville would have explained his version in the solemn, prissy manner he had affected since becoming a “scientist,” “while Tobias would have spread his tales with all the fascinated terror of a child speaking of bogeymen. Well, it didn’t matter.

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