Dark Ranger (The Many Kingdoms, Book 1) by Dawn Napier

By Dawn Napier

Darkish Ranger is the 1st e-book within the Many Kingdoms trilogy, a well-known fairytale international of monsters and wizards, evil and magic. Garrett is a Ranger of the sunshine, a sworn mother or father of the flora and fauna and its population. His accountability is to root out evil and wreck it ahead of it will possibly break the land he cherishes, yet he reveals it tricky to spot that evil in himself. His middle is damaged by way of the brutal homicide of his cherished, and his thirst for revenge leaves him liable to the manipulation of the blood-wizard, Scythe. Fellow rangers Wren and Nolan are made up our minds to reclaim their friend's soul and convey him again to the sunshine. they're aided through a wandering dwarf and a wild fairy who longs for humanity. yet because the partners become aware of, even magic can't retailer anyone who doesn't are looking to be stored.

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Additional resources for Dark Ranger (The Many Kingdoms, Book 1)

Sample text

Let me help you. I’ve got a spare horse in the stables; we can be over the border well before dusk with no one the wiser. You’d never reach the boundary in time if you went on foot – the marshals saw to that when they knocked your wits into next week. Besides, you need a bath and a shave and you haven’t a stitch to wear. Now we can fight about it if you want, or you can sit still and recognise good sense when it’s poured in your ear. ’ ‘You’re only making trouble for yourself. ’ ‘By thieving? And what about clothes?

The butt of a marshal’s mace connected with the side of his head. ‘Be still, hidderling,’ the marshal snarled. ’ The noon sun was too bright, its shadows black and sharp as daggers, pounding into Gair’s skull. He couldn’t focus, had no strength to resist as his left arm was forced onto the block, the other twisted up tight between his shoulder-blades by the chain. His fingers were shoved under a broad iron staple and leather straps hauled tight around his elbow and wrist. Blood dripped from his face, pocking the dusty stones like summer rain.

He looked up as Gair sat down. ’ Gair nodded. It had been awkward shaving with a new razor and only one good hand. His face and neck were as pink as a boy’s. Alderan pushed the tray across the table. ‘I thought you might be hungry,’ he said, flicking the cloth away. ’ Slabs of pork pie were piled on a plate. Fresh bread and a crock of butter. Roast meats and pickles and a bowl of fruit. A dewy pitcher of cold milk to wash it down. Gair’s stomach growled. His left hand sketched the sign of blessing before he remembered.

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