Clan Chronicles #8
Cover art by Matt Stawicki
Betrayed and attacked, the Clan fled the Trade Pact for Cersi, believing that world their long-lost home. With them went a lone alien, the Human named Jason Morgan, Chosen of their leader, Sira di Sarc. Tragically, their arrival upset the Balance between Cersi’s three sentient species. And so the Clan, with their newfound kin, must flee again.
Their starship, powered by the M’hir, follows a course set long ago, for Clan abilities came from an experiment their ancestors—the Hoveny—conducted on themselves. But it’s a perilous journey. The Clan must endure more than cramped conditions and inner turmoil.
Their dead are Calling.
“I almost never cry at books and this one made me sob. Twice! Powerful, surprising, and packing a serious emotional punch, The Gate to Futures Past is a true game-changer.”
Karina Sumner-Smith, author of Radiant
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The Clan Chronicles Series
Excerpt from The Gate to Futures Past (Spoilers)
Prelude
Damage…
Though infinitesimal, the gashes bleed, drawing the ever-hungry.
Though shallow, the wounds do not heal, being between reality and something other.
Damage…
Those who hunt Power gather. Mindless, they extend what aren’t mouths and begin to feed. They fight for position, greedy and never-full.
Scattering when attacked, for their frenzy attracts those larger and more deadly to the feast.
Damage…
Feast…
In AllThereIs, a matter of perspective.
***
The starship cut through subspace with the ease of a knife through soft flesh, systems dormant since their construction at last awake, carrying the answer to a desperate hope, not that it knew.
An answer late in coming, not that it cared.
For its builders were dust and their sacrifice for the future?
Scars upon the past.
Chapter 1
“This is new.” If glaring could melt metal, the innocuous green wall in front of me would be a puddle. Of course, if anything about our present situation paid attention to what I wanted—I glared harder. Take a walk, I’d suggested. Have a precious moment alone, I’d thought. Was that asking too much?
Apparently so, hence the new wall. My hair, the ever-expressive feature of a Chosen Clanswoman, writhed against my back and shoulders. Even if I could control it, there was no keeping my aggravation from my Chosen, the barrier between our thoughts and emotions thinned when we were alone, as now.
Chuckling, Jason Morgan lowered his scanner. “New to us,” he concurred. “But according to these readings, this bulkhead could have been in place as long as anything on the ship. Impressive tech.”
Inconvenient, annoying–I’d a list. “Impressive” wasn’t on it.