By Tom Holt
Wagner received it mistaken. The twilight of the gods isn't that cataclysmic. in spite of everything, there's a comfortable chair, a hot fireplace and 3 foodstuff an afternoon on the Sunnyvoyde Residential domestic. Passing the time with Aphrodite, who's nonetheless fairly sprighty due to her Zimmer body, isn't heaven - yet it's close.
Paperback: 282 pages
Publisher: ORBIT; New Ed variation (1995)
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Town of Perimadeia has fallen. Bardas Loredan, the fellow who was once selected to reserve it, is now at the Island—a recluse dwelling within the mountains, clear of his kin, with just a younger apprentice for corporation. His existence as a fencer-at-law is over. as a substitute, Loredan spends his days perfecting the paintings of bow making.
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Additional resources for Odds and Gods
And was well pleased by it. 17 Roland . . Sasha . . Peter . . Thomas. Now there is only one more we must speak of, isn't there? Now there is only the shadowy fifth. The time has come to speak of Flagg, as dreadful as that may be. Sometimes the people of Delain called him Flagg the Hooded; sometimes simply the dark man-for, in spite of his white corpse's face, he was a dark man indeed. They called him well preserved, but they used the term in a way that was uneasy rather than complimentary.
Thomas gasped. "Oh, that's nothing! Look over here! " He showed Thomas a pile of booty from the encounter with the Anduan pirates some twelve years ago. The Delain Treasury was rich, the few treasure-room clerks old, and this particular heap hadn't been sorted yet. Thomas gasped at heavy swords with jeweled hilts, daggers with blades that had been crusted with serrated diamonds so they would cut deeper, heavy killballs made of rhodochrosite. " Thomas asked in an awed voice. "It all belongs to your father," Flagg replied, although Thomas had actually been correct.
Just as the magician had promised. By the light of Flagg's magic finger-flare, he could also see they were in a secret passage which was about twenty-five feet long. Walls, floor, and ceiling were covered with ironwood boards. He couldn't see the far end very well, but it looked perfectly blank. He could still hear the muffled barking of the dogs. "When I said be quick, I meant it," Flagg said. He bent over Thomas, a vague, looming shadow that was, in this darkness, rather batlike itself. Thomas drew back a step, uneasily.
Odds and Gods by Tom Holt