The reavers are swarming and this time their prey is the supreme ruler of the Templum, the Ipsissimus himself.
With Shader dead and his piece of the Statue of Eingana in the hands of Shadrak the Unseen, the threat of the Unweaving of all Creation is one step nearer.
Dr. Cadman realizes he’s in too deep and there’s nothing for it but to go on the offensive. If he’s to survive the coming war for the statue, what better allies could he have than an army of the living dead?
As Sektis Gandaw closes in and a clash of cultures threatens the land of Sahul, the philosopher Aristodeus still has ideas of his own that could decide the fate of all existence.
But with the passage to the heavenly realm of Araboth covered by the Abyss, nothing is as it should be. Aristodeus knows that even Shader’s death can be turned to his advantage; after all, it’s a long game, and he holds all the cards.
But even the best laid plans …
Best Laid Plans is the second book in the epic Shader series by D.P. Prior.
Here's what readers are saying about book 1, Sword of the Archon:
"This is the best full-length self-published fantasy I've yet to read." - Rex Jameson
"Gritty and thought-provoking, Shader is an absolute triumph of fantasy." - Journal of Always
"If you liked Abercrombie's trilogy I think you'll like this." - Ray Nicholson
"This author has some major talent." - Readers Favourite
Book 2 in the bestselling Shader series, which has regularly topped the rankings on multiple platforms.
OCEAN’S EYE
Aethir: The Time Of The Reckoning
Maldark held firm to the mast of his boat, eyes narrowed against the spray and the squall. The yawl reared and plunged, wind punching the sail. A fierce gust whipped hair in his face, the boat lurching as wave after wave broke across the bow. There was a moment’s calm, a gentle bobbing, and then stillness.
He held his breath, eyes fixed to the reflections of the twin suns rippling on the surface.
Mouthing a prayer, he wrung the moisture from his beard, tasted its saltiness. He flopped onto the bench, ran cold fingers through limp hair, and listened.
Nothing. He was almost disappointed.
Lying back, he stared up at the bloated clouds, blood pounding in his ears. He started to hum the tune always gnawing at the back of his mind: the lament of his fellow dwarves in the Abyss. A lament or an accusation, for had he not betrayed them, along with the hybrids and all the races of Aethir?
The oaken hull began to creak, quietly at first, and then with increasing strain. There was a scrape and a crash as his war-hammer slid across the deck to lodge beneath a bench. His hand snaked out catching his helmet by a horn as it rattled in pursuit. Jamming it on his head, Maldark scurried around the ship looking over the side. The keel was warping and buckling under tremendous force, the sea sucking greedily as violent eddies and swirls formed up ahead.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
|
Afrikaans
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Dutch
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Finnish
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
French
|
Already translated.
Translated by Cécile Bénédic
|
|
German
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Greek
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Hindi
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Irish
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Italian
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Japanese
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Norwegian
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Portuguese
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Spanish
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
|
Swedish
|
Unavailable for translation.
|
