Alina Sayre - The Illuminators Gift

T HE I LLUMINATORS G IFT

The Voyages of the Legend, Book 1

By Alina Sayre

Other books in The Voyages of the Legend series:

Book 2: The Illuminators Test

Book 3: The Illuminator Rising

Stay tuned for Book 4!

Text copyright 2013 by Alina Sayre

2nd printing 2016

Cover design copyright 2016 by Jenny Zemanek at Seedlings Design Studio

Map created by Brian Garabrant

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

Kindle Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Praise for the award-winning first novel

The Illuminators Gift

magicalthe book is a real page turner.

- Readers Favorite, 5-star review

written with an imagination and poetic elegance reminiscent of C.S. Lewiss Chronicles of Narnia and Tolkiens Lord of the Rings.

- Angela Wallace, award-winning author of the Elemental Magic series

The Illuminator's Gift is a fabulous read! This book makes for an excellent read-aloud. The authors word choice is magnificent; her palette of words creates a detailed painting in the readers mind.

- Nicole Raychev, elementary school teacher

I got blindsided. I was cheering, crying, gasping, crying, shaking, and, you guessed it, crying. Its rare that a book does that to me. Alina gets high marks for the 1st 2/3 and off-the-chart marks for the last 1/3.

- Lloyd Russell, book reviewer at The Book Sage blog

The storytelling reminds me of a C.S. Lewis-type fantasy story. After I started I could not put it down.

- Jeff Landis, pastor

[The Illuminator's Gift] is a fabulous read that had me turning the pages...I predict youll soon be hearing a lot more about this talented author.

- A. R. Silverberry, award-winning author of Wyndanos Cloak

A strong first novelrefreshing.

- The Wooden Horse: Toys for Growing

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Mama, Daniel, and Whitney:

my family and faithful support team.

And to Papa, who was the storyteller in the first place.

Chapter 1

The Orphan

E llie pulled the shreds of her sketchbook closer as the carriage jolted to a stop. Just outside, a tall, narrow building stood at attention like a tired old soldier. The chipping white shutters hung crookedly on their hinges, and a weathered sign read Sketpoole Home for Boys and Girls. Aunt Loretha yanked open the carriage door and shoved Ellie out.

Not one word from you, miss, Aunt Loretha hissed, stepping out and straightening her hat. You so much as open your mouth in there, and Ill whip your backside till the hide comes off.

Ellie pressed her lips together tightly. Shed already tried arguing and pleading, to no avail. Uncle Horaffe and Ewart followed them to the front door, where Aunt Loretha let the tarnished iron knocker strike with a deep boom.

After a moment, a maid with frizzled gray-brown hair answered the door.

Welcome to the Home for Girls an Boys, mum. Have you come to adopt an orphan?

Aunt Loretha forced a tight smile. No. Actually, Im afraid weve come to return one.

The maids forehead puckered. Were awful full, mum. But Ill let Miss Sylvia know youve arrived.

Uncle Horaffes hat brushed the dim entryway ceiling. The walls were dingy with fingerprints, and a basket of mending sat on a crooked side table. The sound of many children screaming and playing came from a back room.

This place smells like fish, remarked Ewart.

Aunt Loretha sniffed disdainfully. Why yes, it does. I do hope this business doesnt take long.

Ellie fingered the fraying handle of her carpetbag. She already knew that it wouldnt take long. They would argue. The orphanage keeper would reluctantly agree to take her. And another family would walk out of her life before the smell of orphanage could stick to them.

She and Ewart had been with Aunt Loretha in the marketplace only that morning. Aunt Loretha was shopping for a new hat before they all set out on the ship for Bramborough. Ellie had never been on a ship before. While Aunt Loretha was busy in front of a booth, Ewart leaned toward Ellie, lowering his voice to a whisper.

Puddle-eyes.

Ellie didnt look at him, letting the insult roll off her back.

Maybe thats why you cant read. You cant see through all the water.

She glanced up at the sky, wondering if it would rain.

Oh, but the real reason you cant read is because youre so thickheaded, said Ewart with a smirk. I forgot.

Ellie turned her back to him. She watched a vendor slice open a smooth-skinned yellow blethea fruit, exposing the hundreds of tiny purple seeds within. Ellies fingers drummed against her leg, tingling to draw the textures, the colors. As the vendor pushed his sleeve out of the juice, Ellie caught a glimpse of a silver tattoo in the crook of his elbow. It looked like intertwined letters, perhaps a V and an R, but he tugged the sleeve back over it before Ellie could get a really good look.

You read like a three-year-old. Ewart popped back up in front of her. I can read a whole book in the time it takes you to read one page.

Ewart! I think your mothers calling you, Ellie said. As he turned to look, Ellie ducked behind a barrel. She quickly pulled her sketchbook from under her coat and glanced from the piece of cut fruit to the paper, her pencil stub darting quickly back and forth.

Without warning, Ewart snatched the book out of her hands, his leering face inches from hers. Youre so worthless. No wonder your parents didnt want you.

Ellie jumped to her feet.

Ewart, you give that back!

Make me! His eyes glittered as he danced backward.

She lunged for him. Give it back, I said!

Worthless little orphan. With a glint in his eyes, Ewart dangled the book over a puddle filled with mud and horse droppings.

Ellies eyes widened.

Ewart, please dont. Thats my sketchbook.

He loosened his grip on the book, now suspending it by just one page.

Please! she begged. Ill give you whatever you want. You can have my special red pencil.

I dont care about your pencil. His smile was slow, but his hands moved quickly. Ellie saw the rip before she heard it. Shreds of paper, beloved pictures of things both real and imagined, fluttered down into the manure like torn butterfly wings.

With a scream of pain, Ellie jumped at him. He dodged and ripped out another fistful of pages, the sound raking jaggedly over her ears. She reached for his throat, but he grabbed her wrist, dropping what remained of the book into the mud puddle. Blind with desperation and fury, Ellie used the only weapon left to her. She bit down on Ewarts soft-skinned hand. Shrieking like a little girl, he let Ellie go. She pulled her sketchbook, dripping, from the mud puddle and wiped it carefully on her coat.