About Mark of the Fool:
Excerpt:
“I can’t hear anything,” he whispered.
“Exactly. The forest is never this quiet.” Theresa slipped back into the circle of firelight with Alex following close behind.
She crept to her sleeping roll and rummaged through it. When she rose, she had tied her quiver to her belt and had her bow in hand. On her opposite hip gleamed two blades: her massive hunting knife and—to his surprise—one of her great-grandfather’s swords. As she silently went to wake Brutus, Alex moved near his sleeping sister and turned to peer into the trees opposite Theresa. This way, they’d be covering most directions. Or so he hoped.
He willed his forceball to drift a few feet ahead of him. It illuminated the foliage beyond the reach of the fire with its red light. He injected a bit more mana into the circuit and the glow brightened. A low, ominous hum groaned from the orb. It seemed deafening in the silence.
There was a scrambling as Brutus woke and rose to his feet, growling from all three heads. Selina groaned in her sleep.
“Do you see anything?” Theresa asked.
“No,” he said, willing the forceball to rise higher. The humming spell drifted until it was just below the branches of the forest canopy. Its light bathed the undergrowth ahead and branches above, but he could see no movement or shape up ahead.
He swallowed saliva and fear.
“You?”
Brutus growled, rustling the grasses underfoot as he turned in place.
“No,” Theresa admitted. “But something’s wrong.”
Alex believed her. It was like ice crawling over his spine. Only, no matter how long he looked, he couldn’t see anything in the trees. He decided to risk a glance backward.
“Theresa, what do you—”
He stopped dead.
She couldn’t see it from her position. Brutus couldn’t smell it either.
But he could see it.
The red glow of his orb outlined shadows in the trees above. There—sliding along the bark of an oak near Theresa’s side—was the shadow of a blade, long and wickedly curved. His gaze drifted higher until he was looking into the tree directly above him.
Something was nestled among the branches, illuminated by the fire and the red light of the forceball.
It looked like a cross between a spider and a giant crayfish. Its long, armoured tail wrapped around the tree trunk and each of its eight legs ended in long, scythe-like blades, which bit into the bark. Its front claws were pointed shears, long enough to cut Alex in half with one snip.
Its jaws were wolf-like and devoid of lips to hide massive fangs. Despite its densely armoured exoskeleton, it crept down the side of the tree in an eerie silence. It paused, meeting his horrified eyes with eight dead, black orbs. Jaws were parting, and saliva shone in the crimson light.
Alex screamed.
It tensed.
He grabbed his shocked little sister just before it lunged.
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About J.M. Clarke:
J.M. Clarke is a fantasy writer and social worker located in southeastern Canada, focusing on short stories, novels and web serials in a variety of subgenres, including Dark Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, Progression Fantasy and Sword & Sorcery.
His Sword & Sorcery tales include Vapours of Zinai, appearing in New Edge Issue #0, The Curse of Wine, appearing in A Book of Blades, as well as The Dreaming Sceptre, currently serialised online and due to be published to Amazon.
His debut epic progression fantasy series—The Mark of the Fool, published by Aethon Books—for sale through Amazon and Audible.
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