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Valley of the Soul, by Tamara Siler Jones
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In the mage wars, Dubric Byerly risked his life–and sacrificed the woman he loved–to catch magic’s darkest killers. Those battles are long over–and the monsters Dubric hunts these days are nothing more than men. Until now. A recent string of grisly crimes has Dubric and his pages scouring the countryside for clues that hint at the worst: that history’s most murderous mage has come to Faldorrah.
As Dubric’s hunt leads from secrets locked behind sanatorium walls to a hidden cache of souls preserved in fluid, other lives are shaken: a young woman given a power she doesn’t want, a young man inheriting a legacy he can’t understand, and a father fighting for his memory of a daughter who may already be lost. In the hardscrabble village of Quarry Run, the dark ghosts of the past have come calling–and the battle for the future begins....
- Sales Rank: #1771914 in Books
- Brand: Brand: Spectra Books
- Published on: 2006-10-31
- Released on: 2006-10-31
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 6.89" h x 1.05" w x 4.18" l, .51 pounds
- Binding: Mass Market Paperback
- 464 pages
- Used Book in Good Condition
Review
"A page-turning blend of fantasy and mystery, with touches of romance, action and the supernatural. A unique and compelling series."—Kelly Armstrong, Broken
About the Author
Tamara Siler Jones lives in Iowa with her family. An avid mystery reader, this is her third novel, continuing the series that began with Ghosts in the Snow, and its main sleuth Dubric Byerly.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
"Mama!" Haydon called from near the window. "There's horses on the road! Fancy ones!"
"That's nice." Arien sat at her kitchen table, trying to make sense of the drawing in the old book before she had to leave to work at the sanatorium. She'd never learned to read, but she didn't think that mattered, at least not with this book. It was full of pictures, detailed illustrations in colored ink. Even if she couldn't understand the words, she recognized the things they represented.
"Mama!" Haydon pulled on her skirt and she looked down to see him on the floor, balanced on one hand while his legs dragged uselessly behind him. "Horses, Mama! You have to come see!"
She sighed as she stood and scooped him up. "Horses come by every day, Haydon."
Haydon wrapped his hot arms around her neck. "Not quarry horses! Nobles' horses! Three pretty ones, all brushed and shiny! With fancy saddles!"
Balancing him on her hip, she pulled the curtains. Sure enough, there were three fine horses prancing away down the road. "Well, I'll be."
The three noblemen pulled their mounts to a stop and dismounted near Constable Marsden, who stood not far down the road. One was old and limped a little as he walked, but following him was a tall, slender young man with a purposeful stride. The third man dwarfed the other two combined and Arien sucked in her breath as he lumbered around the horses.
"Dien?" she whispered, leaning close to the open window.
"Who are they, Mama?" Haydon asked.
"Men from the castle," she said, watching the old man follow Calder Marsden into the ravine. The young man and Dien–she was certain it was him, even after almost six summers–stopped to talk to a nearby group of villagers and quarry workers.
"Can we go outside and see the horses? Please?"
Arien hesitated for a moment, then felt Haydon's forehead. Still too warm, but she hated to disappoint him. "Of course we can, sweetie."
Dubric knew the scent of death. He had known it for most of his life, the low stench that permeated his clothes, sometimes his very skin, settling into his pores like a thick oil clotted with grit and dust. Death's gassy breath was a stain he could never wash away, could never escape even if he wanted to, just as he could never escape his ghosts.
Below, on a flattened bit of ground, Calder Marsden, constable of Quarry Run, stood beside the burlap-wrapped remains, frowning. Marsden flicked away a swarm of flies then grimaced and spat. His pleasant face, stubbled from a long and trying day, looked slightly off color. To the best of Dubric's knowledge, Marsden had never seen a mutilated corpse before, even if it was merely a sheep.
"It's here, Lord Byerly," Marsden said, glancing at the carcass as Dubric caught his breath. "At least the part I've found. Second one this phase."
Half hidden by an elderberry bush, a sheep's rump and haunches lay mostly intact, partially wrapped in burlap and tied with twine. Some of its flesh had been chewed away and parts of its intestines strung into the brush. Maggots roiled over the exposed meat and other insects crawled over the burlap and bloody wool.
Dubric ignored his arthritic knees as he knelt beside the remains. Up close, the reek from days of rotting in late spring heat made his eyes water. Flies landed on his face and he shooed them away. "Have any more sheep been reported missing since you sent word to the castle?"
"Yes, milord Castellan. Four of them."
"And you have found several like this?" Dubric pulled a pair of thin sheep-gut gloves onto his burn-scarred hands, positioning the stitched seams over his knuckles. He prepared to dictate his findings then paused. Otlee, the boy who had taken his notes during two previous investigations, had stayed home at the castle.
"Yes, milord. Cut to the seven hells and tossed away, guts and all, but wrapped up tidy as a pin. Why, milord? If you're going to steal and butcher the lord's sheep and package it for storage, wouldn't a sane man keep the meat? I hated to bother you, milord, but I just couldn't make any sense of it."
Dubric looked up. "How well do you write?"
"Not very well, milord. I can make my mark and cipher a little, maybe read a word or two, but there's not much reason for a carpenter to learn to write. Since I became constable, I've been paying Philbe to do my official papers."
"Then fetch one of my men from the road," Dubric said.
Marsden nodded eagerly.
Dubric set to work, surveying the immediate area. He examined fallen leaves and looked under bushes and plants, but found no unexplained footprints, no knife, no apparent clues. Only the rotting back half of a sheep, partially wrapped in burlap. He wiped sweat from his brow and looked up to the arching branches of elm, sycamore, and maple. By the King. I am too old for this.
Someone broke through the brush above. "I am down here," Dubric said.
His elder page, Lars, skip-jumped down the steep slope. "I've taken a statement from the fellow who found it, sir. He was out hunting mushrooms when he stumbled over it. Dien's finishing up the spectator listings."
"That is fine," Dubric said, handing Lars his notebook. "How is he managing?"
Lars flipped through to an empty page. "He'll be all right, sir. It's just a sheep."
"I fear it is too soon to return to this gruesome type of work," Dubric said. Murders just a moon before had ravaged his team. His squire, Dien, had lost a child and young Otlee had lost his innocence. Lars had nearly died and even Dubric had . . .
Had what? he thought, pulling back the edges of the burlap and frowning at the torn flesh. Had decided that I am not yet dead and had best resume living? Dubric took a breath and let it free. The past was past. Only the now and the future mattered.
He began dictating his findings, describing the arrangement of the remains, then cursed. "It is not merely a sheep," he said, pushing wool aside to show Lars a shaved area near the spine. Two triangles were marked on the skin, one red and one black, and overlapping point to point .
"That's not Lord Brushgar's brand," Lars said.
Dubric let the wool fall. "No. It is a mage mark."
Dubric reached the road to find scores of villagers and quarry workers standing in loose groups. Most took a step back as Lars carried the sack of remains to his horse.
Dien left a woman with a little boy and walked over, raking his thick fingers through his shorn hair. Once a steady and solid brown, Dien's hair had become flecked with gray and his massive bulk seemed diminished. Dubric wondered if he ate much anymore, or slept.
Dien barely looked up as he spoke. "What are we looking at, sir?"
"Now is not the place to discuss it. We need to find the other pieces. Soon."
"Maybe I should have contacted you sooner, milord," Marsden said. "I almost did a couple of phases back when it became more than one or two at a time."
"How long has this been happening?"
"Off and on for a few moons. It started late last autumn, after the harvest. Kieran the blacksmith fattens a lamb every summer and someone stole it out of its pen. We looked high and low for it, then parts turned up, scattered around. I thought at first it was some kids causing trouble–Kieran isn't the most loved man in town and some of the lads taunt him–but it didn't stop. Couple of phases later we found a ewe without its back end, then a ram the same way. It was quiet all winter, but started up again a moon or so ago, after the thaw. Seems like every few days another one turns up, half a sheep or a whole one all cut up but still with their wool . . . So many have disappeared that folks are worried about paying their taxes and feeding their families."
"Were all of the sheep found in this area?" Dubric glanced up as Lars came close.
"No, milord," Marsden said. "They've turned up all over town."
"When was the last reported theft?"
"This morning. Woodley, a farmer up north of the pines, reported sheep missing."
Dubric added to his notes. "What did you do with the carcasses you found?"
"Burned or buried them," Marsden said. "No one wants to eat them, not after they've lain around spoiling. There's no telling if the meat's poisoned or tainted. I just can't figure out who around here would do such a thing to folks' livestock."
Dubric looked at the crowd gathered around them. "We need to speak privately," he said, "away from spectators and eavesdroppers."
"Of course," Marsden said. "We can talk in my office."
As the men turned toward the horses, Dubric touched Lars's arm. "Choose two men from the crowd to aid you. I want this ravine scoured for other parts. Tell no one we suspect a mage."
Marsden leaned forward, his arms on his desk. "You think I have a what on the loose?"
"A mage," Dubric said, shifting in his chair. "I saw a mark, two overlapping triangles, on the sheep's skin."
Dien paced behind him, muttering, "Not again. Goddess damned son of a whore, I've seen enough of this shit."
Marsden glanced up at Dien then returned his attention to Dubric. "Milord, mages are just monsters in tales parents tell their children to frighten them. Everyone knows they all died in the war."
"A few remain." Dubric flipped back through his notebook to his most recent case and handed the note...
Most helpful customer reviews
7 of 7 people found the following review helpful.
A Must-Have Book
By Chelsea Campbell
I was lucky enough to get my hands on an advanced reader copy of the book a month before it was scheduled to come out. Let me start off by saying that I used to read a lot. All the time, everywhere, and very quickly. And usually fantasy. Key words here are "used to." I don't anymore. Whether it's that my patience for books has lost out to other interests, or that they just don't make 'em like they used to, I don't read that much anymore. Fantasy books sound good on the back cover, but ultimately bore me into giving up by page ten. In a world of disappointment, Valley of the Soul does not fit in. It, like the other books in the Dubric series, towers over the majority of fantasy books being produced right now. I read this 450 book in two sittings in two days, so glued to the story that I could hardly force myself to stop in order to eat or sleep. I read until my eyes were so blurry I had trouble making out the words, NEEDING to find out what would happen next.
While not as gruesome as the second book in the series, Threads of Malice (which I LOVED), it still had plenty of gruesome, creepy bits that made me shiver. The characters' stories were wonderful and in-depth (and you don't have to have read the other books to appreciate what was going on). The author doesn't pull any punches, whether it's with horrifying plot twists, or not being afraid to address the real issues bothering the characters. She delves right in--no beating around the bush or avoiding messy subjects.
Between each character's story and the mystery unfolding, the book has a lot of threads running through it, but none of them are ever left hanging, and each one grips you and doesn't let go. If you're looking for a good fantasy novel, or a good mystery, with elements of horror blended with engaging characters and a story that won't let you put it down until the end, READ THIS BOOK.
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
Refreshing!
By Farheen H. Dogar
I have read a lot of fantasy so it gets a little old with the same old plot twists. TSJ is a wonderfully refreshing author although her work is quite dark. This latest book Valley of the Soul, is in my opinion the best of the three so far. It has just the right balance of darkness, evil villains, plot twists and it answers some questions that were raised in the first two books of the series and also raises new and more intriging questions at the same time.
I would recommend this series to anyone who enjoys mystery, fantasy and intrigue.
Great work!
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
More Dubric & Co. investigations
By WiltDurkey
Dubric and his band of investigators are back in the third book of the series and it seems they have a full-fledged mage on the rampage. Now, for those who didn't read the previous books, mages are not gentle Gandalf-types around here. Think homicidal maniacs who torture for fun and combine psychopathic tendencies with extreme magical power. They sometimes ate small armies for breakfast, but they have mostly been wiped out decades ago. I can't think of a fantasy series that gives such a bleak, paranoid, and consistently negative assessment of all things magic. Maybe, but that doesn't mean they are similar, the Lovecraftian mythos.
Dubric, who is now in his 60's was once one of the best mage killers around. Lots of Valley's pages are devoted to building up the world of Faldorrah's background, what the mages were like during the wars and why Dubric hates them. I sense that the author wants to expand on it in future books. Good, because the series is much more innovative than most current fantasy.
Books 1 and 2 focused more on criminal investigations proper, with gruesome and gory details throughout. Thankfully, the bloodiness has been toned down, a bit. Gone too are the scenes from the killer's viewpoint, which didn't serve much purpose beyond being a gory tease. However, due to all the background info and character development, Valley sometimes strays too far from its murder mystery roots, which is why I give it 4 instead of 5 stars. Then again, the final battle with the mage is quite an impressive bit of action.
Like its predecessors, Valley provides opportunity for the savvy reader to figure who did it, IF they are smart enough. At the end, you can kick yourself for not getting it (I am 0 for 3 so far), but you can also see the logic and the hints that you should have picked up.
All in all, a good series for fans of murder mysteries and fantasy.
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