Published 2020-10-26Camilla Ochlan
Now that we’ve published several OF CATS AND DRAGONS novels and have put out a few extras — including the novellas WINTER TITHE and LILYTH’S HUNT and the short stories SOLSTICE THYME and LILYTH’S MIDWINTER, I’m starting to think of NIGHT’S GIFT more and more as an origin story, an introduction to Omen’s crazy antics and his world filled with monsters, magic, dragons and — of course — talking cats.
Carol and I are looking ahead to the next big adventure and the one after that and the one after that and the one after that, but I think it’s also fun to take a little trip down memory lane. If you’ve read NIGHT’S GIFT, here’s a look back at Omen’s first real nemesis. And if you haven’t read NIGHT’S GIFT — well, what are you waiting for?
Here's a taste:
A tall, thin figure in long grey robes stood near a cauldron emitting a billow of greenish smoke. He'd been a man at one point, the broad bones of his face distinguishing him as human. But the rest of his features were impossible to discern within the mass of lumpy grey skin, which spread over desiccated muscle tissue.
Gack. Looks like a snake's slough. Cast-off. Putrefied. Omen swallowed down the sick rising in his throat at the sight. The smell in the air was almost unbearable to his heightened senses, and the silk kerchief only vaguely lessened the impact.
The alchemist had two eye sockets in approximately the right place, but they were filled with glistening gelatinous material that boasted pale green irises with black pinpricks in the center.
Omen took an abrupt step back, bumping into Templar.
"The prinssssessss," Gerdriu hissed through squared off ivory teeth yellowed with age and far too visible. Part of Gerdriu's lip had long ago fallen off, and the words that came out of him were difficult to understand. The alchemist prolonged the final "s" so much that the word sounded like princess.