Book One of The Scar of Andellian
Forge and Shadow
Grace doesn’t come from faith in the Light. It comes from the Light’s faith in you.
Coming November 17, 2026
Book introduction
Every light casts a shadow.
They had built a nearly perfect life together. Then the dead came to River’s Crest.
Arden has spent years building a future with Keera. Then an undead assault destroys their home and leaves each believing the other lost.
As Arden discovers a dangerous Grace tied to the gods and their paladins, Keera begins uncovering powers—and truths about her past—that the Temple of Light would rather keep buried. Their paths will draw Light, Darkness, and Forge toward a reckoning that began long before either of them understood what they carried.
From Chapter Five
A dragon, according to Arden
“What are you working on?”
“A dragon.”
“That is an ugly rabbit.”
“It is not a rabbit.”
Michel pointed at the metal. “Those are clearly ears.”
“They are feet.”
“Have you ever seen a dragon?”
“Have you?”
“No, but I have seen rabbits.”
Arden is considerably better with steel than he is with drawing.
A glimpse from the novel
From Chapter Fifteen
On a dark road far from home, Arden discovers that Andellian still holds room for wonder.
Sometime before dawn, bells woke him.
The sound was soft and quick, like the chime above the door of Artur’s Rest caught in a playful wind. Arden sat up. Magnus slept on the opposite side of the fire, snoring beneath his cloak.
The bells came again from deeper among the trees.
Arden pulled on his boots and followed them to a small pond. Thorn bushes crowded its bank. Beyond them, Caelumara cast a pale golden reflection across the still water.
Two lights danced above the pond.
They were shaped like tiny people, no more than nine inches tall, each surrounded by a dim gold radiance. Translucent wings folded along their backs while they spun and stepped upon the air without disturbing the water. Every movement released another peal of tiny bells.
Arden forgot his fear for one breath.
A branch shifted behind him. Magnus eased through the thorns and crouched at his side, watching with the same quiet wonder.
One of the creatures noticed them. She hovered above the pond in a shimmering dress, covered her mouth as she laughed, and waved. Then she flew close enough to land upon Magnus’s shoulder.
Her tiny fingers slipped toward the pouch at his belt.
Magnus caught her wrist without looking. “Lililil.”
The fairy stuck out her tongue, twisted free, and flipped backward into the air.
Arden looked at him. “You know her?”
“I have been robbed by professionals.”
Lililil laughed hard enough to lose several inches of height before returning to her companion.
“What are they?” Arden whispered.
Magnus looked at him. “You have never seen a fairy?”
Arden gave him a flat stare.
“Right. River’s Crest.” Magnus turned back to the pond. “The more you open yourself to magic, the more of it you will notice. They were always here, boy. You simply could not see them.”
“They are beautiful.”
“They are thieving little menaces.” Magnus lowered his voice further. “Ever set down a hammer and find it somewhere impossible?”
“Frequently.”
“Fairies.”
“I assumed I was forgetful.”
“That is what they want.”
The dancers circled each other one final time, then waved and vanished among the trees. Their bells faded until the pond held only moonlight.
“Come on, boy,” Magnus said. “We have a long road tomorrow.”
Arden returned to the clearing. Sleep did not come easily. He thought of the home he and Keera had planned, the children they had imagined, and the fair-haired boy who sometimes appeared so clearly in those dreams that Arden almost believed he had met him.
He reached for Keera one last time.
Nothing.
Enter Andellian before the dead arrive
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