From Goodreads and Amazon Reviews...

 

“I couldn't put this story down and I was so surprised when it ended as I only intended to read a few pages.”

 

“Dance and Echo brings the reader into the depths of existence . . . the journey we are all on, and the way in which we choose to engage in our lives and with the world in which we live.”

 

Let the wild welcome me.

Let my journey be a teaching.

Let my path be a circle.

Let it lead me home,

Wherever home may be.

The Echo begins its journey from Windberth with a very odd mix of companions aboard--Royals, mismatched Knights, young Sisters and their even younger novice. Already there are hints of danger as Adria struggles to find her place among those who were once her people.

 

In the past, among the Aesidhe, Adria slowly begins to learn the ways of their Hunters, taught by her uncle Preinon, the blind Holy Woman, Shisha, and her friend Mateko.

 

But nothing could have prepared Adria for every hunt or every journey she must take.

From Dance and Echo...

 

From exile to exile, Adria thought, wondering, If I see this land again, will it be only as a ghost? She said a quick Aesidhe prayer for safe passage—both for herself, and for her People, who even now stirred themselves to war against the violet and the black, against the legacy of her father’s madness and against the promises of a god that might never be.

 

Shómepo, Homayáni zho sushawe gonila hechayo.

Shóme unipshazh michaowe gonila hechayo.

Shóme holo unistohã nislopi gonila hechayo.

Shóme uteko zho homili si nitipi gonila hechayo,

Tegoni ucheli hognu lobewe.

 

Let the wild welcome me.

Let my journey be a teaching.

Let my path be a circle.

Let it lead me home,

Wherever home may be.

 

*    *    *

 

The Aesidhe measured in cycles—cycles of the sun and moon and stars and seasons, cycles of hunting and resting and moving of camp, cycles of war and relative peace. They measured what mattered for their survival, and no Somanan or Aeman calendar could make such decisions or predictions so well.

 

Patience and action each in their measure, each in their own season, Adria would remember from these first lessons in what makes a Hunter. The drawing of the bow and the flight of the arrow are only the last lesson which begins with the making of both.

 

*    *    *

 

 

Slowly, without looking away from her prey, Adria readied an arrow and raised her bow. Once she fired the first, she felt certain she could manage two or three more as he bolted, as long as he did not turn just the wrong way. But he wasn’t in her range yet. She could probably hit him, but maybe not well enough. She had improved a good deal, and felt confident she could make nine out of ten shots at about twenty yards. It was a discipline the Hunters maintained, and it had proven itself. Just four more steps...