"...A delightful book. Tomasella is a strong heroine who knows how to use her brains and her talent to get her own way, but smart enough to learn from others. This three mercenaries she hires are entertaining characters in themselves, and gradually Shade emerges as a handsome and brave hero. Boswell Flamewrite is a bad guy well worth hating, and seeing what Tomasella does to Emory is marvelous. I very highly recommend this magical tale to anyone who loves good fantasy fiction."—Judy Cook, The Romance Studio

"Tomi," the prince said. "I saw Ed Golerider with an arrow sticking out of his chest. Do you think he's dead?"

"I…I don't know, Rhian." She couldn't bring herself to tell her little cousin that having fallen over Edrin's body, she very well knew he was dead.

Tomasella sensed, more than saw, the two men exchange puzzled glances over her head. Her captor nudged her in the ribs to get her attention and, bending his head, whispered into her ear. "The boy he's not calling you mommy, is he?"

Tomasella frowned. "Of course not. Why on earth…? Oh! Did you think I was his mother?"

Wyn's mouth dropped open in dismay. "Oh, fish eyes. You mean you ain't?"

She shook her head no.

He grunted. "Then who in the hell are you? I could have sworn I heard the kid calling for his mommy. And you answered." The last part sounded as if he was accusing her of making a deliberate effort to mislead him.

Any retort Tomasella might have made was silenced by the sound of hooves racing over the turf toward them. And then her blood seemed to congeal in her veins, for she recognized the man in the lead. Hatred enveloped her in a poisonous cloud.

Boswell Flamewright dragged his charger to a halt. The horse's mouth, ringed with blood-tinged foam, was pulled open by the cruel bit. Dust churned from beneath his feet. Flamewright's eyes narrowed as they passed over Rhian and settled on Tomasella.