The Diadem Saga Books 1-3: Diadem from the Stars, Lamarchos, and Irsud
1035
The Diadem Saga Books 1-3: Diadem from the Stars, Lamarchos, and Irsud
1035eBookDigital Original (Digital Original)
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Overview
Jo Clayton opens wide the portals into an awe-inspiring galaxy of marvels and terrors with her Diadem Saga—an impressive combination of science fiction world-building and quest fantasy storytelling that rivals the classic works of Mercedes Lackey, Anne McCaffrey, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Andre Norton, and C. J. Cherryh—and introduces a “positive, aggressive, and interesting” heroine, the nomad Aleytys (Popular Culture). Within the breathtaking scope of her unique universe, “Clayton has the gift of creating believable aliens and alien worlds, and a lively, vivid, often lyrical style” (Science Fiction and Fantasy Book Review).
Diadem from the Stars: Abandoned by her space-traveling mother and forced to flee her superstitious primitive tribe, Aleytys discovers an alien crown of unimaginable power. Once the diadem’s great energy is transferred to her, it becomes an integral part of who she is and will be. But the diadem is stolen property, taken from a vengeful arachnid race—and Aleytys just became the most wanted woman in a dangerous universe.
Lamarchos: On the barbarous planet Lamarchos, Aleytys is determined to do what it takes to survive and protect her infant son, even stealing a cache of powerful poaku stones. But despite the awesome power of the diadem, Aleytys falls victim to a treacherous betrayal and is pursued by a horde of zombie-like aliens.
Irsud: Drugged and sold into slavery by the villain who stole her infant son, Aleytys must now serve as the hive queen of an alien insect/humanoid race on the planet Irsud, acting as a host body for the queen’s consciousness in a surgically implanted egg. With an enemy literally inside her, Aleytys must tap the power of the diadem to survive the ordeal and rescue her son.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781504053341 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Open Road Media |
| Publication date: | 05/01/2018 |
| Series: | The Diadem Saga |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 1035 |
| Sales rank: | 280,847 |
| File size: | 9 MB |
About the Author
Jo Clayton (1939–1998) was the author of thirty-five published novels and numerous short stories in the fantasy and science fiction genres. She was best known for the Diadem Saga, in which an alien artifact becomes part of a person’s mind. She also wrote the Skeen Trilogy, the Duel of Sorcery series, and many more. Jo Clayton’s writing is marked by complex, beautifully realized societies set in exotic worlds and stories inhabited by compelling heroines. Her illness and death from multiple myeloma galvanized her local Oregon fan community and science fiction writers and readers nationwide to found the Clayton Memorial Medical Fund.
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Red-hot light slashed through the double glass and burned away the comfortable darkness in the narrow bedroom.
"Madar!" Aleytys bobbed upright and shivered in the icy night air. Heart bumping, she rubbed her hands over the gooseflesh on her arms and stared at familiar walls that the glare turned strange, whiting out shadows, bringing cracks and stains into startling prominence.
For an eye-blink she thought she was back in her old nightmare, the one in which she woke in a cell with rose-pink padding on the walls. Then the light began to fade.
Beside her Twanit whimpered and dug herself farther under the quilts. Absently Aleytys reached out and patted the quivering lump. Then she pushed up onto her knees. With the bed quaking and creaking under her, she bounced up to the head and pulled herself to the tall thin window that rose above the headboard.
Set into the house's three-foot-thick outwall, the double window with its inner and outer set of leaded panes was recessed a full foot back from the wall surface, forming a dust-catching ledge where Aleytys kept her clock and a heavy pewter candlestick that right now had a six-inch piece of candle stuck in it.
Impatiently she raked them off the ledge and wormed her body into the opening. Outside, a roundish blaze nearly as large as Hesh curved down the sky, swallowing the starlight and painting the glaciers of Dandan an ominous bloodred.
She pressed her nose against the cold glass and stared curiously at the sky. As the fireball slipped behind the mountains and the afterglow died away, she dropped back to the mattress, shivering from the cold air sliding around her body.
Twanit stirred and thrust her head out from under the quilts, blinking damply. "Leyta?"
"Yeah, hon?" Aleytys shifted around and brushed the wild elf-locks from her cousin's wide-staring eyes, smiling gently down at her. "What is it, Ti?"
With a sputtering gasp Twanit scrambled up and clutched Aleytys around her waist, burying her face in the thick folds of the heavy nightgown. "Oh, Leyta," she wailed. "Leyta ..." Her voice trailed into incoherence while her frail body shook so hard the bones seemed on the verge of coming through the translucent flesh.
Aleytys sighed and patted her shoulder. "Hush, Ti," she said softly. She stroked one hand lightly over the black curls while she kept up her soothing murmur. "Shh, baby, Mmm, no, I won't let it hurt you ... shh it's gone ... all gone ... all gone ... See, it's dark again ... nice and dark ... mmm ... mmm ... I'm here, little Ti, aziz-ni ... shh."
She let her voice die away as she felt Twanit's body relax. When she looked down, her cousin's eyes were shut and her breathing was slow and even. She was asleep again, in that facile deep sleep that usually followed her hysterical outbursts.
With a quick grimace of distaste Aleytys slid her over onto her own side of the wide bed. "I wish it was that easy for me," she muttered. Twanit's soft mouth dropped open and she snored. "Duscht!" Aleytys straightened her out and turned her onto her side. "What a night." She sat up and rubbed her arms again. "Cold as Aschla's pity."
She stretched out on the bed and dragged the quilts over the two of them, shuddering at the touch of the cold sheets. Funny, she thought, to get so excited about some stupid light in the sky. She wiggled her shoulders and turned over onto her stomach, nestling her head down into the quilts. Then she closed her eyes, sucked in a lungful of air and let it trickle slowly out, settling down to sleep again.
A minute later her eyes popped open again. "Madar!" she snarled into the pillow. Outside in the hallway, muffled somewhat by the thick walls, she heard loud excited voices, scuffling footsteps, door after door slamming.
"My family! My damn dear family. Sticking their noses out at last." She heaved herself up and sat cross-legged on her pillow. "No sleep this night for me. Not till they shut their cackling mouths." Tilting her head back she stared up at the enigmatic black rectangle. "Or maybe ..."
She wiggled into the opening again and eagerly scanned the sky. The stars flickered placidly on the dark arch while big Aab's pale sphere shone in the window's upper right pane with tiny Zeb hovering just below. The capricious night breezes of early summer danced the horan leaves around just as they had every Gavran month she could remember.
"By the Madar's purple eyes ...!" Aleytys shoved straying wisps of hair back out of her eyes. "I wish I knew. ..." She squirmed around and slipped off the side of the bed. Twanit muttered a chewed-up sound that trailed off into a gurgling snore.
Though the bed almost filled the narrow room, there was about a foot of space between its edge and the wall on each side. She slipped past the sliding doors of her closet and snatched down a fringed shawl, which she flipped around her shoulders. Cautiously she shoved the heavy door open.
The hall outside was patterned with shifting shadows cast by night candles stuck in iron frames beside doors marching in a steady line down the long corridor. The hall was empty now, but at the far end a pool of butter-yellow lamplight spilled around the corner. Voices bounced down to her like eerie disembodied spirits, echoes garbling the words into snippets of sound. She hesitated. If I keep back in the shadows so they don't see me ...
Shivering a little at the current of icy air that flowed along the painted tiles, she pattered swiftly down the hall.
The square outside the Azdar's door was filled with a milling throng hissing at each other in tense excited whispers, spinning a web of sibilance and secrecy that left her on the outside. Qumri's sharp tones sounded suddenly above the rest. " ... Has to be. ..." Mavas's discontented rumble drowned her out.
Hastily Aleytys backed farther into the shadows. "Has to be what?" she muttered. "Bitch. It would be her who knows something about that fireball. If she had her way I wouldn't know alef from bayt." She leaned forward, tensely curious.
The purple slab with a fine-line silver dragon incised in its center slammed open and the Azdar himself stood planted solidly in the wide rectangle.
Aleytys raised higher on her toes and peered past him, curiosity flaring hot in her. As she tottered in the shadows steadying herself with a hand planted on the wall, she could just see a dim shape sitting up in bed. She stifled a giggle. Wonder who he's got in there tonight. Bet Qumri's livid. She sniffed and ran her eyes over the bulky figure in the door. Ha! Even stopped to comb his hair and put on a clean nightshirt. Her eyes flicked over him again. Look at the old buzzard suck in his gut.
Wide mouth curled in a sneer, shaggy eyebrows drawn together into a hideous scowl, he moved his heavy head slowly around like a tars on the hunt.
A sudden hush. All eyes focused on him.
Azdar stood impressively silent, milking the scene for all the drama he could squeeze out of it.
Aleytys sank back on her heels, rebellion an itch crawling under her skin, wanting to yell at them all, "The old bastard's a fake!" Her shoulders moved restlessly against the wall.
The tense silence was suddenly broken by Qumri. She took two steps forward and planted herself in front of Azdar. Aleytys held her breath as her heart started thudding again. She couldn't see Qumri's face but the set of her head shouted barely suppressed rage.
"Abru sar, the fireball." Qumri's voice was loud and hoarse. She clipped her words viciously short. "Her. What are you going to do about her?" The last word she spit at him like a pit viper spewing its venom.
"Her?" Aleytys repeated, surprised. She swallowed abruptly, pressing her hand over her mouth, eyes flickering warily over the backs of those closest to her. But no one turned. No one had heard.
Azdar glared at Qumri until she reluctantly dropped her head. Then his hard yellow-brown eyes narrowed and he roared at the rest of them, "Bunch of spineless mikhmikhha!"
Once again Aleytys stifled a giggle as the straggling hairs of his bushy moustache fluttered in the blast.
Slamming his hand against the doorpost, he boomed, "The house stands solid. Ai-Jahann, a lot more solid than the lot of you. Shiver in your skins at ghosts, will you?" He sneered and moved his massive head around again, pinning them with his eyes. "The witch is gone, fools. She won't come back. Well call mulaqat tomorrow about this thing. Till then, act like grown men instead of whimpering brats. Clear out now. Let a man sleep." He stalked over, grabbed the edge of the door, and shrugged it closed behind him.
For a minute the Azdarha fluttered around like a clutch of jittery chickens, their voices clucking in subaudible spasms, a rising and falling murmur that trailed behind Aleytys as she backed up a few steps, then spun around on her toes and fled down the hall. Panting lightly, shaky giggles simmering along with tears beneath her precarious self-control, she slipped past her door and eased it shut.
The leather lacing creaked loudly as her weight came down on the mattress, startling a shrill titter out of her. She clapped a hand over her mouth and glanced back over her shoulder, but Twanit's breathing flowed smoothly in and out without skipping a beat, so she stretched her hands out behind her and leaned back, her eyes focusing vaguely on the window's moon-cast reflection on the smooth surface of the door, a shifting tracery of shadow playing rhythmically across the pale squares.
A pleasant lassitude spread up through her. With a groaning yawn and a bone-cracking stretch she settled out flat on the bed. "Cackling hens," she murmured, then closed her eyes, grinning into the darkness. Wonder who that was in Azdar's bed. Qumri saw, I'm sure she did. Hope I never get that obsessed with any man. Mmm, I better crawl under the quilt before I freeze.
As she lay trying to work up enough energy to get back on her feet she heard the last door slam and a single pair of feet begin pacing down the long hall. Qumri checking up.
Aleytys stiffened. "Bitch," she whispered. She pushed up, hands squeezing the quilt until her fingers ached.
The footsteps came nearer.
Mouth twisted in an angry self-mocking grimace, she unclenched her fingers and rubbed her hand across her forehead. I thought she'd have my skin off the last time she beat me. ...
Outside, the footsteps slowed, hesitated.
Aleytys sat very still.
A hand pushed strongly from outside. Aleytys heard the faint, dull thud as the door chucked against the stop. Then the footsteps clicked away down the hall.
"A perfect ending for a perfect day ..." With a shaky laugh she twitched the shawl from her shoulders. Sighing, she muttered, "Better try for some sleep. I'll feel like a calf with scours tomorrow." She stretched and yawned, but there was a pool of restless energy inside her that made the thought of lying down sit sour on her stomach.
She shrugged and slipped the shawl back around her shoulders. Lifting the bar and latching it started the blood throbbing through her veins while her breasts fluttered with short rapid breathing. Cautiously she thrust her head out of the narrow opening. The shadows were thickening as the candles burned lower, but the hall was clearly empty. She padded across and groped her way down the curving flight of stairs.
The wood of the patio door was cold and solid under her trembling fingers. She slipped the latch and eased through, keeping a firm hold on the inner door. In spite of the careful balancing of the hinges that made it possible for her to move that chunk of wood, it had a tendency to slam shut with a boom that shook the whole house.
Inside the vestibule the glazed tiles burned like ice against the skin of her feet. "Ai-Jahann, I wish they hadn't put out the steam fires," she muttered.
The outer door was secured by iron-banded double bars. Aleytys swung them on their pivot bolts locking them upright. Curling up her toes against the cold she leaned against the door and shoved it open with a flop of the rubber weather stripping. More cold air poured in and she slid hastily outside.
In the middle of the patio the housetree glistened in the moonlight, its graceful fronds swaying and fluttering in tantalizing whispers. She ran across the short thick grass and pressed her hands against the silken bark while the enticing minty fragrance of the fronds dropped like incense around her.
She tilted her head and stared at the sky. For a minute she thought she could see a dusty yellow film streaking across from east to west, but the longer she looked, the less certain she became that anything was really there. With a sigh she leaned back against the trunk and let its gentle pulse nip at the back of her head and throb in growing strength up and down her backbone. Purring with pleasure she rubbed against the summer-smooth bark for a long warm minute until reality melted around the edges for her.
Then she sneezed and the dream crashed around her. Her body was shaking. Her teeth clattered together. Her eyes felt stiff and swollen. She sneezed again, patted the tree affectionately, and hurried back into the house.
Preoccupied by the cold that sent shiver after shiver pulsing through her tired body, she didn't notice the heavy black shadow that loomed at the head of the stairs.
"Soooo...." The low venomous hiss snapped head up. She gasped and clutched at the railing while her heart slammed into her ribs. Qumri. Waiting for her.
She leaned against the balustrade and tried to gather her wits, sick with the age-old terror Qumri had instilled in her and sick with anger at herself for letting the woman cow her so. All those years, she thought. All those years ...
"Custom breaker." Qumri's voice was a hate-filled whisper. Aleytys crouched lower over the railing as it whipped at her. "Defiler. Whore-daughter." The last words were squeezed out in a shrill whine as though rage strangled them in her throat. Aleytys bit her lip and raised her heavy hand.
"Come up here!"
Stumbling on numb clumsy feet, she halted up the remaining steps.
A hard nervous hand came out of the dark and slapped with stinging force against her face, slamming her into the newel post.
"Stupid animal." Again and again, underlining the hate-filled syllables, the hand stung her face.
Aleytys whimpered and tried to cringe away.
Qumri jerked her onto her feet and slapped her harder, her breath going in and out in harsh squeaks each time she hit.
Something snapped inside Aleytys. As Qumri's hand pulled back once more, she wrenched herself free and scrambled away. Just out of arm's reach she stood up and tossed her head back, anger hot and strong inside her. She laughed.
Qumri froze, a ludicrous expression of surprise distorting her handsome features.
"Why, old woman, salkurdeh khatu...." Aleytys drawled out the words until they became an insult in themselves. "Can't you get the Azdar to bed you? That why you're prowling the halls?"
Qumri shrieked and leaped toward her, fingers curled into claws.
Hiccuping with hysterical laughter, Aleytys fled down the hall with Qumri squealing behind her. She reached her bedroom and dived through the door just a step ahead of the fury at her heels. Bracing herself, she shoved the door shut in Qumri's face and dropped the bar into its socket.
"Ahai!" She turned and flattened her back against the door, feeling limp as a wrung-out dishrag. "I damn sure better keep out of her way tomorrow."
Lifting heavy arms, she hung the shawl on its hook, then crawled back into bed. She lay trembling as her body slowly warmed, staring up at the thick blackness. Triumph flared up a minute, then grayed to ash as she realized that nothing was changed. Nothing at all.
CHAPTER 2Hesh bulged steel-blue over the eastern edge of the world a handspan north of Horli's squashed half-circle. Down in the valley the horans grew a second shadow while the dim red light brightened to a clear blue.
Under the scattered horans the blocky gav dozing in the pastures snorted and humped onto their feet, snuffling in air that had a liveness and a sparkle that sent the blood burning through one's veins.
The Raqsidan wound in leaping silver and green between the massive clan houses whose rings of second-floor windows flickered from black to yellow as the tarik roused the sleepers. As the harsh clangs of the tarik's bell faded down the hall, Aleytys tumbled out of bed, her feet hitting the floor before her eyes opened. She stretched, yawned, scratched her head, and leaned against the wall blinking gritty eyes.
Something hard touched her foot. The candlestick. She picked it up, lit it, and set it back on the window ledge. The candle was broken in the middle and tilted at a crazy angle dripping wax in a greasy puddle on the stone.
The door swung open. Twanit sidled through the narrow opening and padded over to her side of the room. Aleytys patted a yawn and leaned back against the wall. "Up before the bell again?"
Twanit smiled timidly over her shoulder. "I like the morning, Leyta." She pushed the panel back and set her hairbrush gently in its precise spot on the narrow shelf inside. Humming softly, she lifted a neatly folded ribbon from another shelf and tied her shining curls back with quick deft fingers. "You Know how I hate being crowded and pushed around," she finished.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "The Diadem Saga Books 1-3"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Open Road Integrated Media, Inc..
Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
DIADEM FROM THE STARS,
Part I: The Fireball,
Part II: Dragonseed Tries Her Wings,
Part III: The Diadem,
LAMARCHOS,
IRSUD,
Preview: Maeve,
About the Author,
