Novel & Cerita Patrick Rothfuss Name Of The Wind Book 3

he asks, and I shake my head. “Let me see,” Dash says, leaning closer and shaking his head the same way I did. I am great with faces, names not so much, but faces yeah. I never forget a face. “That’s Petrov, now known as Carter Danes,” Wyatt says and I snap my eyes up. Shit. Everything that has been happening lately distracted me from finding this prick. “Thorn sent you some files, and he told me you haven’t checked them yet,” Wyatt adds, and I take a deep breath, crossing my legs. I place both my hands on my ankle and lock my eyes on Wyatt as he speaks again.

My heart pounded. And then… “Scared?” A voice asked in my mind, but it wasn’t Alba’s. “No. We’re waiting for you to stop your prank and show yourself,” Alba said sharply. “Here I am.” From the shadows, a massive black wolf emerged, Alpha Rhett’s wolf. “Alpha, it is nice to meet you. I am Alba,” my wolf greeted. “I am Rhys,” he replied. So that was his name, Rhys. His wolf.

The wind was fierce and unyielding, but they pressed on, knowing the importance of their mission. Standing on the edge of the cliff, Luna raised her arms, calling out to the spirits of the wind. She felt the air swirl around her, lifting her hair and filling her lungs with its invigorating presence. With a chant, she captured a portion of the wind's essence in a crystal vial, which glowed with a vibrant green light. --- The final element, fire, awaited them in the heart of a dormant volcano. This was the most dangerous part of their quest, but they faced it with unwavering courage.

In a flash of an eye all three of them were dire wolves running through the woods, wild, free. Not for long, Pearl knew she needed to go back to the mortal realm and save Ethan. END OF BOOK 1

“Tillman’s house isn’t far off. There’s a telephone there. I don’t intend to walk back to the house.” I could hear Nora telling the tale of how Marduke and his minions had pulled us through the painting as I walked in the direction of Tillman’s house. She was careful not to leave anything out. I smiled as I moved deeper into the trees. Nora was a much better storyteller than I was. I would have surely left things out and possibly confused Lance even more.

I smile at him slowly, genuinely with tears trickling down my face, my eyes locked as though somehow I can draw strength from those beautiful greys. I’ll miss seeing them. Despite all he is, I will miss him. This is it … The end to all my troubles and maybe now I can finally know what it is to be that dandelion seed, set free on the breeze and finding her way in the wind. Soaring to a better place where he can never touch me again. I turn the gun to my own head and without hesitation, I pull the trigger. End of book one – book two follows on.

I said, and she instantly started shaking in fear. So she did know what my kind was. “My name is Rowen. I run the underworld, along with my three other brothers. I take it, you know of my kind?” I questioned. “I have only heard stories, Master.” She replied. I nodded to her. “Come now, let’s get inside.” I said, and I pushed open my rose gold gate. I continued with her leash in hand while she followed me inside. I could tell she was in awe looking at my home and the vast property surrounding it. I doubted she had ever seen anything like this before.

Onward to Rallegrad and the Lycan king. Book 3 coming soon!

Chapter 3: The Archivist’s Eye --- The wind changed on the fourth morning. It blew not from the sea, but from the inland horizon — from a land where no rivers flowed, where no trees grew, and where names were kept in cages. Esi felt it in her breath. Something was watching. Not the Whisperless. Not the Salt-Blooded. Something more ancient. Something older than truth. --- They traveled west, away from Daraní, following a path that did not exist the day before.

Growing quiet, he waits as the twins look at each other and seem to communicate silently. “Well?” Uncle William pushes when they continue to remain silent. “Will you accept these names?” Instantly, the twins nod in unison, but before anything else can be said, a snarl rips from outside of the room, and I’m reminded that there was one more rogue amongst them. “Shit,” Uncle William hisses, preparing to move, but stopping as Maverick races into action. Eyes widening, I begin to follow him out of the room and into the living room, where the final rogue stands, baring its teeth.