#1 New York Times bestselling author R. A. Salvatore brings an astonishing world to life and the intrepid hero, Elbryan Wynden, leads the way as he confronts the dark tides of destiny in his epic search for justice and peace. A great evil has awakened in the land of Corona, a terrible demon determined to spread death and misery. His goblin armies and fearsome giants ravage the settlements of the frontier, and in the small village of Dundallis, their merciless attack leaves behind two shattered orphans: Pony and her lifelong friend, the youth Elbryan. Taken in by elves, Elryan is raised to become a formidable ranger—a fateful role that will lead him into harrowing confrontations. Meanwhile, on a far-off island, a shower of gemstones will fall onto the black-sand shores. These heaven-sent stones carry within them an incredible power—the key to all that is good in the world and all that is evil, and it is up to one young monk to liberate them from the corrupt monastery that harvests them. Pray they don’t fall into the wrong clawed hands. “An enthralling epic adventure.”—Terry Brooks “Wild adventure, unique magic, stunning suspense, and forgettable characters.”—James Rollins, bestselling author of the Sigma Force series and The Starless Crown As one of the fantasy genre’s most successful authors, R. A. Salvatore enjoys an ever-expanding and tremendously loyal following. His books regularly appear on The New York Times bestseller lists and have sold more than 30 million copies. Salvatore’s most recent original hardcover, The Two Swords , book three of The Hunter’s Blades Trilogy debuted at #1 on The Wall Street Journal bestseller list and at #4 on The New York Times bestseller list. His books have been translated into numerous foreign languages, including German, Italian, Finnish, Greek, Hungarian, Turkish, Croatian, Bulgarian, Yiddish, Spanish, Russian, Polish, Czech, and French. Chapter 1: The Unexpected Kill CHAPTER 1 THE UNEXPECTED KILL ELBRYAN WYNDON WAS UP BEFORE the dawn. He dressed quickly, fumbling with his clothes in the red light of the hearth’s glowing embers. He ran a hand through his tousled straight hair—a light brown shock that bleached pale on its top layers under the summer sun. He retrieved his belt and dagger, which he had reverently placed right near his bed, and Elbryan felt powerful as he ceremoniously strapped the weapon about his waist. He grabbed the heaviest wrap he could find and rushed out into the dark and chill air, so anxious that he hardly remembered to close the cabin door behind him. The small frontier village of Dundalis was quiet and eerily still about him, sleeping off the well-earned weariness that followed every day’s hard labor. Elbryan, too, had worked hard the previous day—harder than normal, for several of the village men and women were out in the deep forest, and the boys and girls, like Elbryan, who was nearing his teens, had been asked to keep things aright. That meant gathering wood and tending the fires, repairing the cabins—which always seemed to need repair!—and walking the perimeter of the sheltered vale that held the village, watching for sign of bear, great cat, or the packs of hunting wolves. Elbryan was the oldest of those children, the leader of the pack, as it were, and he felt important, truly he felt a man. This would be the last time he remained behind when the hunters went off on the season’s last and most important expedition. Next spring would bring his thirteenth birthday, the passage from childhood in the hardy land that was the northern wilderness. Next spring, Elbryan would hunt with the adults, the games of his youth left behind. Indeed he was tired from the previous day’s labors, but so full of excitement that sleep had not come to him. The weather had turned toward winter. The men were expected back any day, and Elbryan meant to meet them and lead their procession into the village. Let the younger boys and girls see him then, and afford him the respect he deserved, and let the older men see that the village, under his watchful eye, had fared well in their absence. He started out of Dundalis, stepping lightly despite his weariness, passing through the darker shadows of the small, one-story cabins. “Jilly!” The call was not loud but seemed so in the quiet morning air. Elbryan moved up to the corner of the next house, smiling for his cleverness, and peered around. “It could be today!” protested a young girl, Jilseponie, Elbryan’s closest friend. “You do not know that, Jilly,” argued her mother, standing in the open doorway of their cabin. Elbryan tried to muffle his snicker; the girl hated that nickname, Jilly, though nearly everyone in town called her that. She preferred the simple “Jill.” But between her and Elbryan, the title was Pony, their secret name, the one Jilseponie liked most of all. The snicker was soon gone, but the smile remained, all the wider for the sight. Elbryan didn’t know why, but he was alway