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    The Mark of Motish
    The Mark of Motish
    The Mark of Motish
    Ebook88 pages1 hour

    The Mark of Motish

    By Andrea B Lamoureux

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Bearing the mark of the Goddess of Death is no easy feat.

    Malyi is content living her simple life in a hut with her parents. She’s a sweet, innocent young woman who believes she’s found true love. That is until she’s torn away from her family and home when she’s forced to offer herself in exchange for her parents’ livelihoods.

    Khadji is Gwon's new ruler. It is said he is cruel and merciless, and it’s now Malyi’s responsibility to bear him an heir. When she’s unsuccessful in her duty, Khadji marks her with the symbol of the Goddess of Death. Tossed aside, she must learn to fend for herself and use her new mark to her own advantage.

    Find out what the gods have in store for Malyi in this Elemental Diaries short side story.

    *This title can be read on its own and is available as a gift to the author’s newsletter subscribers. For details, visit www.AndreaBLamoureux.com

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAndrea B Lamoureux
    Release dateMay 10, 2018
    ISBN9781775100669
    The Mark of Motish
    Author

    Andrea B Lamoureux

    Andrea B. Lamoureux, author of The Elemental Diaries series, writes young adult fantasy and paranormal romance with dark themes. She lives in Alberta, Canada with her husband and two cats. Other than creating tales of magic and romance, she loves horseback riding and reading. Her favorite time to lose herself in a book is at night while the world is sleeping. Her favorite authors are Anne Bishop and Jacqueline Carey. You can keep updated about Andrea’s new releases and receive a free novella of hers by signing up to her newsletter at https://www.AndreaBLamoureux.com/newsletter

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      Book preview

      The Mark of Motish - Andrea B Lamoureux

      THE MARK OF MOTISH

      Copyright © 2018 Andrea B Lamoureux

      All rights reserved

      Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

      Formatting: Integrity Formatting

      Table of Contents

      Dedication

      Character Pronunciation List

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      A Message from the Author

      Also By Andrea B Lamoureux

      Acknowledgements

      For Corey, my rock

      Thank you for all that you do.

      Character Pronunciation List (in alphabetical order)

      Affie (AH-FEE)

      Asmeet (AS-MEET)

      Babush (BAH-BUSH)

      Hepbar (HEP-BAR)

      Jehvad (JUH-VAD)

      Kali (KAL-EE)

      Keb (KEB)

      Khadji (KAHD-GEE)

      Malyi (MAL-YEE)

      Nenet (NUH-NET)

      Safiya (SAH-FEE-YAH)

      King Sahyied (SAH-YEED)

      Tavah (TAH-VAH)

      Veniece (VUH-NEES)

      Chapter 1

      I led a simple life at the age of seventeen. I was naïve about the world and the people in it. That was about to change.

      My family was poor. We didn’t have much to call our own other than a small hut near the edge of town, but I’d been raised to appreciate the fact I had parents who loved me and a place to sleep.

      What little coin we did have, we made at the market.

      Humming lightly to myself, I swept off the bamboo matt at the back of the tent where we sold our goods. Papa was taking payment from a customer purchasing one of his carved wooden figurines, while Mama chatted with a potential buyer for a seashell bracelet she’d made.

      A loud crash from outside caused everyone to stop what they were doing and stare in the direction of the sound. Dropping the broom, I ran out of the tent to find a bin of oranges across the lane toppled over.

      The fruit merchant, a short man with a head of thick, black hair and a bushy beard yelled, Thief! Stop! while losing his balance and falling on top of the spilled fruit.

      The orange thief noticed me watching as he passed our tent. He gave me a wide grin, showing off his ivory teeth. Aside from his torn clothes and grubby skin, he was pretty attractive. Think I can outrun him? he asked breathlessly.

      I returned his smile and nodded.

      He laughed and tossed an orange at me. I caught it easily.

      You’ll pay for those! the fruit merchant huffed, but the young man took off through the market before he could catch up to him.

      Malyi, Papa called from inside the tent. What’s going on out there?

      I tucked the orange into the pocket of my simple brown dress. Nothing Papa, just another thief.

      May the gods send them to the underworld! Papa shook his head. Some of us work hard to put food in our bellies. That some people think they can just take whatever they want…it makes me sick.

      It frustrates me too, Babush, but there’s nothing we can do except try to protect our own product, Mama replied, helping her last customer tie her new bracelet around her little wrist.

      "Why do you think I carry this?" Papa pulled one of his carving knives out of his belt and held it up in the air.

      The petite woman who’d bought the bracelet gasped as Papa’s eyes went crossed with the knife in front of his nose.

      Babush, put that away. You’re scaring the customers, Mama ordered, placing her hands on her hips as the woman wearing a bright, multi-coloured dress rushed from the tent. Mama was always the voice of reason in our little family of three.

      It’s time to start packing up, he said, shoving the knife back into his belt.

      I took that as my cue to grab the sack and start putting the wooden figurines into it so we’d be ready to catch the wagon that would take us back to our hut.

      Later that night, I lay awake on my straw mattress as my parents slept on the other side of our cozy hut. I was used to the sound of Papa’s snores vibrating throughout our home. I rolled onto my side, unable to keep my thoughts from wandering to the man who’d given me the orange. I took it out from under my pillow and peeled away its thick skin, wondering if he’d managed to get away. Usually thieves irritated me as much as my parents, but I found myself hoping this one escaped safely. There was something about him…

      Psst…psst, someone called from outside the window by my bed.

      A quiet thumping made my heart jump as I stretched to see who it was.

      "So I did find the right hut!" a male voice exclaimed.

      Squinting, I could barely make out the shape of the tall man standing outside my hut. Who are you? I whispered, wondering if I should go and wake Papa. He always slept with his knife close by and would cut down anyone who meant us harm without hesitation.

      It’s me, the orange thief, the voice said.

      How did you find me? Wait, I’ll come outside. I don’t want to wake my parents.

      What are you doing, you fool? He could be dangerous. I ignored the little voice inside my head, put a blanket over my shoulders, and crept out of my hut to meet him.

      The thief stood waiting in a nonchalant manner. The moon gave off just enough light for me to make out his appearance.

      How did you find me? I repeated.

      I followed you, he

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