Blackbird

From Forluin, green, half-fabled land of beauty and peace, has journeyed the gentle Estarinel, bearing tragic news. From the terrible Empire of Gorethria rides Ashurek; a lean and deadly warrior, once High Commander of its Armies, scourge of the Earth, hated and feared across continents. The third is known only as Medrian. Coldly wrapped in her cloak of sorrow, her eyes deep-shadowed with suffering long-endured, she will explain nothing of her reasons.

All-powerful and terrifying, the Serpent M'gulfn is poised to lay waste to the Earth and its mysterious Planes. Only three have the courage to challenge it: Ashurek, the fell prince of Gorethria, Estarinel from the gentle island of Forluin, and the silent, sinister Medrian. Aided by the denizens of the fabulous Blue Plane, they are sent aboard the mystical ship The Star of Filmoriel back to Earth to seek the Silver Staff - a strange weapon that may prove more dangerous than the Serpent itself.

The terrible Serpent M'gulfn has been destroyed, but Earth's future is in peril. Its death has unleashed a chaotic power that may prove more dangerous than the Serpent itself. Journeying to Gorethria comes Melkavesh, daughter of Ashurek and Silvren, determined to harness the new power of sorcery for good. But can she resist the temptation to claim her birthright - the dark throne renounced by Ashurek?

The Serpent M'gulfn is dead, yet the Earth of Three Planes faces new dangers. Melkavesh, powerful sorceress and daughter of Ashurek, has come to claim her birthright - but she bargains without Xaedrek, the seductive, charming and ruthless Emperor of Gorethria. The clash between them will bring other lands to ruin, claim innocent victims, and even cause the moons to fall. The fourth volume of Freda's first fantasy series creates an eerily atmospheric world, now revised in a special collector's edition hardback.

Prince Ashurek of Gorethria looked up amazed. The towers of Niankan-Siol soared skywards, all blue and gold and glass, seemingly as light as air. Walkways, weightless and swaying, threaded among the pinnacles and spires, while winged creatures and air transports flitted between the glittering heights. But Niankan-Siol was a living illusion. The towers were deep-rooted in the despised under-city where an enslaved people huddled in earth-bound decay.