The Silver Lake

Table of Contents

 

 

“In this bold first of a new fantasy series from Canadian Patton, six gods, who originated from spirits that mated with humans and who can take corporeal form at will, rule the magical city of Anavatan. Court intrigues enrich the story, as do many made-up words that lend color but whose meanings readers must figure out in context. The smashing climax neatly sets up events for volume two.”

 

“The best aspect of this explosive series opener is Patton’s take on relations between gods and men.”

—
Booklist

 

“From Fiona Patton comes the first volume of an exciting fantasy series about a City of the Gods and the immortal patrons that protect it. Breakneck-paced, vividly described, and thoroughly captivating,
The Silver Lake
is easily Patton’s best work to date. A masterwork of imagination, this is epic fantasy at its very best.”

—
The Barnes & Noble Review

 

 

“Patton begins a new series set in an exotic world reminiscent of medieval Turkey. This fluidly paced fantasy adventure belongs in most libraries.”—
Library Journal

 

“Detailed worldbuilding sets the stage for an intriguing plot ... Fans of multifaceted epic fantasy will enjoy this introduction to a unique world.”—
Romantic Times

Also by
FIONA PATTON

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2005 by Fiona Patton.

eISBN : 978-1-101-07813-6

 

All rights reserved.

 

 

DAW Book Collectors No. 1343.

 

 

 

DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

 

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the In- ternet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First Paperback Printing, February 2007

 

 

The author would like to thank Ozan Yigit and Ihsan Pala for sharing their wonderful stories and memories of Turkey, which helped Anavatan come alive, and Shihan Kenzo Dozono of the Belleville Karate School for his wisdom and training.

THE singing began just before dawn. From the hun-Tdred lofty minarets which graced the skyline of the capital city to the nine village towers which guarded Gol-Beyaz, the priests of Havo gathered to call forth the sun for another day. As their joined voices rose, the shadows which had been building in every comer like heavy spiderwebbing grudgingly withdrew. But they did not vanish. The rising wind and the heavy, concealing bank of storm clouds which had brought them from the western wild lands of the Berbat-Dunya plains whispered to them of power and potential and they stirred hungrily, impatient for the coming of night.

The strength of their desire sent ripples of disquiet through Gol-Beyaz, disturbing the vision-filled slumber of Incasa, pale-haired God of Prophecy and Probability. A frown marring the smooth perfection of His features, He opened His snow-white eyes to stare into the depths. Something was happening. Raising one delicate, fine-boned hand, He blew a line of icy breath across the pair of opalescent dice nestled in His palm, then flung them into the waters.

A dozen rippling streams formed in their wake, each one leading to a single, familiar destination and Incasa bared His silvery-white teeth in displeasure. Three times before, the shadowy spirits of the Berbat-Dunya had risen to challenge the supremacy of the Gods, and three times before they’d been defeated so utterly that their shattered potential had been reformed to Incasa’s own desire without a flicker of resistance. And so it would be. again. The great wall of stone and power erected about Gol-Beyaz when its twelve villages had been in their infancy was still strong and the champions who kept it so had been in place for more than a millennium. The spirits could not win through, not now, not ever.

As if in agreement, a cold breath of wind scored the surface of the lake and Incasa smiled. It was the final day of Low Spring, the final day before Usara, God of Healing, gave dominion over the land to Havo who heralded the coming of High Spring with three nights of violent wind, rain, and hailstorms, known as Havo’s Dance. Nothing stirred when the God of Wind and Rain wreaked havoc above the world; nothing the spirits of the wild lands could lay claim to or draw strength from. With a flick of His hand, Incasa swept the streams aside, then returned to His slumber in the depths of Gol-Beyaz, secure in His power and in His defenses.