For love. For power. For the end of all things. This is the last book in the Realm Rift Saga.
Thomas Rymour has never been further from the end of his quest. Locked in a dungeon, he is separated from his friends, his lover, and from his daughter.
But he hasn’t come this far to give up now.
Everything is on the line. The world itself. His friends. And his family. If Tom doesn’t find a way to break free of his prison, to find the last magical artefacts, and rally the mortal world to his cause and defeat the creatures of Faerie, his daughter will never be safe.
But when the Queen of Faerie makes him an unexpected offer, Tom will need to make an impossible decision. Will he attempt the impossible to save his daughter? Or will he break every oath of love and friendship to do what must be done?
For love. For power. For the end of all things. This is the last book in the Realm Rift Saga.
This book has been so much harder than I expected.
When I finished The Northern Wastes, I felt I was on the downward slope. I knew what was coming. Most of the pieces were in place. The final book would simply be the consequences of what had already been set up. I was looking forward to realising scenes I'd had in my mind for years.
But after a hundred thousand words later, something wasn't working. The story was progressing according to plan. But it wasn't right. It felt mechanical. It felt wrong.
One of the most important things you can do when writing is to keep going. Chapter causing you trouble? Press on. Don't let it derail your progress. You can come back and fix it later. So I followed my own advice. I kept writing. But the problem was growing. It wasn't a scene that wasn't landing right. It was something fundamental. I was building a house on ground that was writhing against the bricks.
And then, in the midst of a scene that was supposed to go one way, my mind rebelled. Before I knew what I'd done, I wrote a short scene that told me exactly what needed to happen.
The problem was, it demanded a complete rewrite.
And this was no small task. But the story is so much better for it. And, I think, you'll enjoy it so much more as a result.
It will be the novel I wanted to read. Soon, others can.
“I could scare believe the tale. Sir Thomas Rymour. The man who survived the Whispering Woods. Who faced the dragon that burned Cairnalyr. Who lifted the enchanted blade Caledyr. Sir Thomas Rymour, who tackled the vicious merrow under the Lannad Sea and led the oppressed dwarf thralls to break the Western Kingdom’s hold over the dragons.
“Who brought back to this world King Emyr and his sorcerer Ambrose.
“Sir Thomas Rymour found the lost Western princess. He battled Faerie monsters, uncovered the fabled labyrinth of Sir Rimestenn, fought the beast within for the treasure Orlannu. He fell, but rose again only to suffer grievous wounds at the foul hands of Malvis, the Black Knight himself. And then returned to us.
“If I could not see the new fire in your eyes, the strength in your body and soul, your straight back despite the wounds you bear? I confess, I would not credit the tale as true.”
