The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy)

Table of Contents
Dark Destiny
For Arenadd, the journey through the shadows with Skandar was like using his own newly discovered gift—but a hundred times more powerful. This wasn’t mere shielding. He clung on to his partner’s back, feeling the massive strength beneath him; and despite the icy cold, despite the fact that he couldn’t see anything around them but black void, he had never felt so powerful in his life.
But it was humbling, too. For the first time he was beginning to see the full extent of Skandar’s power. It had brought him back from death, and now it was taking them all to freedom.
Unseen in the darkness, Arenadd began to smile. They had the power, and soon they would have a plan. The Night God’s will would be done, and he and Skandar would take everything the world had denied them for so long.
Anyone who stood in their way would die.
Ace Books by K. J. Taylor
The Fallen Moon
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HarperCollins Australia mass-market edition / January 2010
Ace mass-market edition / March 2011
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Dedicated to Jackie French.
This book doesn’t have any wise mentors, but I do.
Thanks to all my friends. Allison, my friend and brilliant illustrator; Stephanie, my friend and publisher; Jackie, my friend and mentor; Anne, my friend and mother; Rod, my friend and father; and Claire, my friend and sister. And thank you as always to all the awesome people at the Eyrie, because without readers a book is a sad thing.
And final thanks to Nightwish, whose album
Dark Passion Play
was the soundtrack to all my work here.
Author’s Note
The language of the Northerners is Welsh, a very ancient and beautiful language.
Accordingly, in line with the rules of Welsh pronunciation, “dd” sounds like “th.”
Hence our protagonist’s name, Arenadd, is pronounced as “Arrenath.” Likewise, Saeddryn is pronounced as “Saythrin,” and Arddryn is pronounced as “Arthrin.”
The North
uddled alone in a cell deep below the city of Malvern, Arenadd Taranisäii sang. He wasn’t sure of the words or the tune. In fact, he couldn’t quite remember what he was trying to sing. That didn’t matter. Keeping his bandaged hand tucked in against his chest, he opened his mouth wide and sang as loudly as he could. His voice came out cracked and raucous.
“. . . danced around the tree when you came to look for me, round and round the . . . tree we went . . . back again . . . take my hand and we’ll . . . something something . . . dance around the—” He broke off in a fit of coughing.
He had lost track of how long he’d been here. Time had no meaning when there was no light, and even less when you couldn’t sleep. And pain made every moment drag out and stretch. He hadn’t eaten anything in a while, but that didn’t seem to matter much. His mouth hurt where one of his teeth had been knocked out. The swelling on the side of his head had claimed one eye, so seeing wasn’t easy, either. But none of it hurt as much as his hand.
He sang anyway. It was all he could think of to do, the only thing that seemed to block out the whisperings in his head.

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