The Sword of Ferbandey

The fantastic Celtic Sword sketch was created by and posted here with permission of Haardod.

A lonely 14-year-old girl, Fae O’Landry, an outcast in the waking realm, enters the medieval door in her dreams and, in so doing, learns the truth of her magicae roots. Not only is she one of seven races gifted with magic in the beginning, but she may be the last of her kind. While searching for her own answers, she learns that finding the Sword of Ferbandey is key to protecting  both the dream realm  and the waking one from a great evil. She heads out on a quest to find the ancient sword, before dark forces do, with a dwarf, a merrow and a couple of elves…

The Sword of Ferbandey is the first book in a planned young adult fantasy series called DREAMING OF FEDONTA. Below are a couple of snippets pulled from different parts of the current draft of book one to whet your whistle:

About Fae O’Landry

She continued down the beach by herself, though the storm raged and she had been warned by elemental instructors not to head out of the castle unescorted. She knew she had to go and fled on the impulse, even if it put her in danger. Her clothes were soaked by the frigid, salty spray and the cold rain, but her rage kept her warm. Her emotions tossed and turned like the ocean waves. In the darkness, she felt angry and alone, but her snow white markings illuminated brightly. She was terrified by what the old elf had told her, but she wanted to know–aye, needed to know–the truth, even if it changed everything

From the waking realm

As Fae looked at the cloak, she knew instantly where it had come from. It was the same one she had been wearing the night before–in a dream hundreds of years ago, in the Celtic lands of Fedonta. Encouraged by a witch she had barely met and a wizard she knew well, she and her companions had been on a quest to locate a powerful sword. She had been wearing the cloak as she fell asleep under an old Hawthorn tree in the dream. Now, the cloak was draped across the foot of her bed–in modern day Maryland.

From the dream realm

Fae watched in disbelief as the creature crawled from the salty ocean to the gritty sand, scales falling like teardrops from his lower body until not one was left, his bare skin becoming covered in goose bumps in the cool evening breeze. His gills disappeared and he seemed to be clawing the air for oxygen with his lips. Then, he took a gulp of air into his lungs and fell, naked, face down in the sand. The young woman looked at her elven companion with a look of disbelief and asked, “Is that a merman?” The elf responded in a whisper, “Yes, but for a girl to call him that would enrage him. In polite company, we refer to them as merrow.”

For the transition between realms…

A Door Between Realms

“How do you get there on purpose? When you aren’t summoned?” The young faerie asked the witch in whom she had begun to trust. “A potion, and a few special words,” the woman grinned, her eyes twinkling, “and the magic from within! People see what they want to see and believe what they want to believe. You have to want it, and you have to believe it. When you get to the door’s threshold, walk through with confidence.”

Some of Fae’s companions:

One of the elves…

Fae hung her head and wiped off the tears running down her hot cheeks. Teenagers were so cruel! (Even if he was not a teen in the human sense, he was young for an elf.) The young Nye, the less compassionate of the twins, thought he was being funny when he tried to get her to dance at the elemental ceremony for new arrivals. She was nervous and tripped, and he cracked a joke at Fae’s expense. Everyone laughed. Fedonta was no different than the waking realm. Fae didn’t belong here either.

The dwarf and the merrow…

“Why is she crying?” the copper-skinned merrow asked his dwarven companion. “This is harder to watch than a mermaid losing her scales as she leaves the water!”

“Don’t you mean, why is she crying again?” asked Alastair. “Who knows why any girl cries, but I can’t take this. I should find out if there’s a spell to make it stop.” Nadish grinned at the wizard. “You should tell her a joke. You’re good at making her laugh.”

The young dwarf, who looked Italian except for the paleness of his skin, took a deep breath, rose from the floor and walked over to Fae. “Hey, you okay?” Fae tried to pull herself together, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “I wish I could make that stupid, old centaur stop saying things that just aren’t true!”

Alastair grinned as he put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re in luck. A young wizard once taught me a Vox charm. It’s time to put it to use.” Although as a dwarf, he could not perform the spell, he began to explain it. Fae couldn’t help but giggle as she realized she was going to make the old liar croak like a frog.

Release date TBD