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Queen of Chaos

Queen of Chaos By Kat Ross Summary

This is truly a grand finale of a book, mysteries from the very beginning of the series are put to rest and our heroes win in unexpected ways. Queen of Chaos delivers a beautiful ending that is perfect as it is but is left open enough for another story to seamlessly fit in.

As the dark forces of the Undead sweep across what remains of the empire, Nazafareen must obey the summons of a demon queen to save Darius's father, Victor. Burdened with a power she doesn't understand and can barely control, Nazafareen embarks on a perilous journey through the shadowlands to the House-Behind-the-Veil. But what awaits her there is worse than she ever imagined.

A thousand leagues away, Tijah leads a group of children on a desperate mission to rescue the prisoners at Gorgon-e Gaz, the stronghold where the oldest daevas are kept. To get there, they must cross the Great Salt Plain, a parched ruin occupied by the armies of the night. A chance encounter adds a ghost from the past to their number. Will they arrive in time to avert a massacre?

And in the House-Behind-the-Veil, Balthazar and the Prophet Zarathustra discover that they have more in common than meets the eye. But is it enough to salvage the necromancer's bloodstained soul and thwart his mistress's plans?

As a final showdown looms between Alexander the Great and Queen Neblis, the truth of the daevas' origins is revealed and three worlds collide in this thrilling conclusion to the Fourth Element series.

About the Author

Kat Ross worked as a journalist at the United Nations for ten years before happily falling back into what she likes best: making stuff up. She's the author of the new Nightmarked epic/urban fantasy series, the western steampunk Lingua Magika trilogy, the Fourth Element (The Midnight Sea, Blood of the Prophet, Queen of Chaos) and Fourth Talisman historical fantasy series, the Gaslamp Gothic paranormal mysteries, and the dystopian thriller Some Fine Day. She loves myths, monsters, and doomsday scenarios.

The Fourth Element (3 book series)

The Midnight Sea

Blood of the Prophet

Queen of Chaos

Queen of Chaos By Kat Ross Introduction

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


She stretched out flat on her belly in a fold of earth, the late afternoon sun beating down on her bare neck. Goddess, she missed having long hair. Myrri used to braid it each night before bed. Her gentle smoothing and tugging always made Tijah sleepy.

The memory would have brought angry tears to her eyes if she had any left to shed. But after the things she'd seen, and the nights weeping silently so she wouldn't wake the children, Tijah's heart was cold and heavy as a stone.

Oh, sister. I'd give anything to have you at my side again.

Anything at all.

Myrri didn't answer, but that was because she'd never spoken a single word aloud in her life. Also because she was dead.

The silence managed to be more accusing than any imagined response. If Tijah had gone down into those tunnels with her, Myrri would still be alive. She could have saved her with the bond, the way Nazafareen had saved Darius. Or they could have died together, as they were always meant to. She'd never for a moment considered that she might be left behind. Alone and consumed with regret. It was the cruelest fate imaginable.

Tijah squinted through the waves of heat rising from the white, cracked earth. Beads of sweat carved a slow path down the side of her nose. She hadn't moved a muscle in an hour. Hardly so much as blinked. She was watching the village below for any signs of life. There were none.

It looked like the other villages they'd passed in the last four days crossing the Great Salt Plain—a dusty collection of mudbrick houses with rounded roofs and narrow slits for windows to keep out the desert heat. Except this one wasn't a charred slaughterhouse.


Tijah knew what the necromancers and their Druj did when they swept through a village. She had seen the aftermath a dozen times so far. The first one she'd known was coming because they could all smell it from leagues away. When little Abid saw what had been done to the sheep in their pens, he'd gotten sick to his stomach, vomiting right on Parvane's bare feet. At that point Tijah had ordered Achaemenes to take the five children and give the village a wide berth, cursing herself for not doing it earlier. She was the only one to enter. She'd hoped to find survivors.

Tijah heard the buzzing of flies in her dreams now, on those same nights when she woke with a scream trapped in her throat and the image of faceless men standing over her with knives. So many horrors, all congealing together. So many bad men in the world.

She'd made herself count the dead at each village. At first to honor them, to remember the lost. But that's how she came to suspect the Druj weren't killing them all. Oh, there was no lack of burned and tortured corpses. But Tijah could see it wasn't enough. That meant the necromancers were taking fresh slaves at each stop. Maybe the wights too.

Afterwards, when the culling was finished, they would put the place to the torch and carve up every last living creature that remained. From what she could tell, the Undead didn't eat the animals. They killed for the pleasure of it.

But either this particular village had been spared—highly unlikely—or overlooked. Well, it was a stroke of much-needed luck. They'd run out of food and water a day ago. Since the succession of ghost towns, Tijah's priorities had radically shifted. She no longer expected to buy horses or provisions. Her only goal at this point was keeping everyone alive.

She'd thought about turning back. Not herself, but Achaemenes and the kids. She should have tried harder, the moment they came to that first village.

“Do you care so little for them?” Tijah had demanded. “This plain is a battlefield. Not even that! A charnel house.”

“We can handle a few Druj,” Achaemenes replied.

Can you?” She stared at him until he looked away. “Did you know the necromancers use fire? They're not stupid. They know how to deal with daēvas. And they're hard to kill, much harder than the Undead.”

She could see from his face that in fact, he had not known about the fire. Very few did. Tijah only knew because she'd fought them once before, but the so-called Antimagi had not crossed the mountains in generations. Until now.

Still Achaemenes dug his heels in. “We're going to Gorgon-e Gaz,” he said, iron in his voice. “And we're going to find our parents and let them out.” He glanced at the children, sitting blank-eyed in the dirt, waiting to be told what to do. “They need to know who they are. They need to know they're not Druj. You've no idea of the things that have been done to them. The lies they've been told.”

Tijah had nothing to say. If Myrri were here, she'd agree. So on they went.

And Tijah found herself warming to the stark, forbidding landscape. The perfect emptiness of it, the silence. She didn't think she could have stood being in a city, with its teeming multitudes and staring faces. That made her remember Karnopolis and what had happened there. But the Great Salt Plain had an austere beauty Myrri would have appreciated. Scorching during the day and cold at night, but oh, the stars! More than she had seen since leaving the golden, shifting dunes of Al Miraj all those years ago.

They had walked and walked, and seen many strange and wondrous things that eased the other horrors: spires of pure white crystals thrusting up from the earth like half-buried palaces, and rivers of salt driven by the wind to look like hair, and a dry lake pitted by some ancient hailstorm that turned out to a morass of sticky mud. They had almost gotten stuck in that one. Afterwards, Tijah was careful to avoid anyplace that didn't have a thick crust of salt.

Most of the villages had an oasis nearby, so Tijah managed to refill their water skins until the last one, where she'd found corpses stuffed into the well. That was yesterday.

Now it was far too late to turn around. And Tijah wanted to go to Gorgon-e Gaz too. Needed to go. It was the only way she could think of to avenge Myrri's death and if it cost Tijah her own, she could accept that.

In fact, she was counting on it.

But the kids…. She still planned to leave them somewhere safe. Tel Khalujah, maybe. There were Water Dogs there and a high wall. Garrisons of soldiers.

So why haven't they been sent here? Why haven't you seen a single red or blue tunic among the dead?

Tijah shifted the tiniest bit to avoid a pebble digging into her right hip. This wasn't the first time that little voice had asked unanswerable questions. The people of the Dasht-e Kavir were helpless as goats staked out for a pack of hyenas, abandoned by both their old King and new. And if none of the eastern satrapies had sent aid either, when news had surely reached them of the massacres by now, that meant….

Tijah didn't want to think about what that meant.

She watched the village until the sun hovered just above the peaks of distant mountains. The one good thing about the Great Salt Plain was that no one could sneak up on you. It stretched flat and featureless in all directions, with nowhere for an army to hide itself. Wherever the Druj had gone, she felt reasonably certain it wasn't here. Besides the lack of bodies and flies and stench, the ground around the village wasn't churned up the way the others had been. The necromancers and their minions were foul, unearthly things, but they left hoof- and footprints just like men did.

Tijah crawled back to the clump of scraggly brown bushes where Achaemenes waited with the children. Like a crucible, the desert had both reduced and hardened him, boiling away any spare flesh along with the last shreds of innocence. His eyes were haunted, but then so were her own.

Nothing moving down there,” she said.

“Someone must have warned them,” Achaemenes said, the kids clustered tight around him like ducklings. “They got lucky and ran.”

“Probably. Or they're hunkered down. Hiding.”

Tijah did not mention Ash Shiyda, the village she'd been called out to with the Water Dogs several years before. A merchant caravan had reported possible trouble in the area. When her company arrived, Ash Shiyda appeared to be deserted. In fact, the Druj had been waiting for them, holed up in the empty houses. That's when she'd killed her first revenant. She remembered the eyes like mirrors, the terrible wounds on its body, squirming with maggots. It held its longsword with cracked, raw hands. The weapon had been nearly as tall as she was. If Myrri hadn't distracted it while Tijah snuck around behind….

Listen up.” Tijah braced her hands on her hips and gave the kids a hard stare. “What do you know about the Undead? About Druj?”

They shuffled their feet. Pegah glanced at Achaemenes for his consent to answer and Tijah wanted to shake her until her perfect white teeth rattled.

“Come on,” Achaemenes said, scrubbing a hand across his jaw. His beard was coming in and he had an unconscious habit of stroking the wispy hair when his authority was invoked. “Remember your lessons with the magus. Let's start with liches.”

“Like shadows,” Parvane said promptly. “If they touch you, you're dead.” She poked Abid, who giggled, stuck his tongue out and pretended to sag to the ground.

“And how do you stop them?”

Most of the kids chimed in with the answer, all except Anu, who, when she wasn't bickering with the others, usually refused to speak at all. “With air!”

“What about wights?” Achaemenes asked.

“Cut their heads off!” Pegah said, eyes shining. She was only four years younger than Achaemenes and worshipped the ground he walked on.

“And revenants?” Tijah said.

“Undead soldiers, returned from the grave,” Parvane chanted. Words she'd memorized by rote. “You have to behead those too. When they're born, they come out of the ground.”

Stinky old Druj!” Abid jeered, collapsing in laughter. It had been two days since he saw the eviscerated sheep in their pen, entrails draped across torn bodies, eyes staring glassily into the sun. Only two days. But with the resilience of children, he'd managed to erase the scene from his mind.

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Queen of Chaos

Queen of Chaos PDF

Product details:

EditionInternational Edition
ISBN0997236272, 978-0997236279
Posted onDecember 16, 2016
Page Count372 pages
AuthorKat Ross 

Queen of Chaos By Kat Ross Book 3 PDF Free Download - HUB PDF

This is truly a grand finale of a book, mysteries from the very beginning of the series are put to rest and our heroes win in unexpected ways. Queen of Chaos delivers a beautiful ending that is perfect as it is but is left open enough for another story to seamlessly fit in.

URL: https://amzn.to/3wzqcbi

Author: Kat Ross

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