Sword by Amy Bai
Publication date: February 10th 2015
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult
Synopsis:
Sword shall guide the hands of men . . .
For over a thousand years the kingdom of Lardan has been at peace: isolated from the world, safe from the wars of its neighbors, slowly forgetting the wild and deadly magic of its origins. Now the deepest truths of the past and the darkest predictions for the future survive only in the verses of nursery rhymes.
For over a thousand years, some of Lardan’s fractious provinces have been biding their time.
Kyali Corwynall is the daughter of the Lord General, a child of one of the royal Houses, and the court’s only sword-wielding girl. She has known for all of her sixteen years what the future holds for her–politics and duty, the management of a House, and protecting her best friend, the princess and presumed heir to the throne. But one day an old nursery rhyme begins to come true, an ancient magic wakes, and the future changes for everyone. In the space of a single night her entire life unravels into violence and chaos. Now Kyali must find a way to master the magic her people have left behind, or watch her world–and her closest friends–fall to a war older than the kingdom itself.
Excerpt
An arm reached out of the dark and wrapped around her
neck.
She saw it coming from the corner of her eye, but only
had time to twitch uselessly sideways. Another arm immediately followed the
first one, muffling her startled cry and stealing her breath.
Too shocked to be afraid, she bit down. The hand over
her face jerked away. Her elbow drove backwards and her heel went up into a
knee. The awful crack of bone that followed drew a pained groan from behind
her, and brought her panic in a thundering flood. Her attacker staggered,
pulling her with him. The dropped candle sputtered on the floor beside them,
throwing huge shadows everywhere. Spurred on by the thought that she might have
to finish this struggle in the dark, she shouted. It was a much softer sound
than she'd intended, but the floorboards above them creaked ominously, the arms
around her fell away, and he screamed, as though she had burned him.
Leaving this mystery for later consideration, Kyali
flung herself at the steps and scrambled up, leaving the back panel of her
skirts in his fist. Her sword clattered on the floor as she snatched at it. He
came hard on her heels and, as she turned, drove himself obligingly onto it for
her. Stunned, she froze again.
Her blood sang in her ears. By the look on his face—a
fair face, some much colder part of her noted, with the Western short-beard—he
was at least as surprised as she was. He drew a bubbling breath. A dagger
dropped from his hand and hit the floor between them.
They stared at one another.
He
made an odd face then, and coughed a gout of blood all over her. She blinked
through the drops. She knew she had to move—not dead till they stop bleeding,
Father would say—but she couldn't. For all her years of study, all the secrecy
and swordplay, she had never killed a man. She supposed, watching his face in a
perversely distant way, that she still hadn't quite managed it. But he fell
forward onto her then, going limp, and after the instinctive terror of having
him land on her subsided the sight of his glassy gaze, of her old practice
sword sticking out of his ribs, made it clear that she had done it now.
She watched his face closely while his blood dripped
down her cheek. He didn't move. He seemed not to be bleeding anymore, though
with all the blood on him already how could one tell? She didn’t intend to get
closer to check. She couldn't hear anyone else in the house. Through the haze
of shock, she was grateful the soldiers weren't here to witness this bizarrely
personal moment.
"Well," Kyali said, beginning to be pleased
at how well she was taking this—and then threw up on him.
Damn.
Interview with the author
1) What is your novel about?
Sword is a coming of age high fantasy about a girl pretty
much at odds with everything, including and especially herself. It's set in a
fictional kingdom called Lardan, one with a long history of magic and war, and a
population so complacent they've forgotten that either one ever applied to
them. They learn differently when history begins to repeat itself: there's an
uprising, the kingdom is thrown into civil war, and the royal family, of which
my main character Kyali is a satellite member, is murdered. Kyali, her brother,
and the princess are forced into exile with a small army of refugees. Kyali was
badly hurt during the uprising, and comes out of that a changed person;
unfortunately for her she's now the only person with the training to command
what is left of the army, and her friends need her.
Sword is her story, how she learns to deal with what happened to her
without shutting out the people she loves, and with the responsibilities she
has to shoulder now that the older generation is dead and the kingdom is
overrun. It's about loyalty and love, fate and family and politics. It's also
violent, occasionally sarcastic, and unabashedly sappy.
2) What inspired you to write the story?
I had a very sullen young woman with a battered old sword and no patience
kicking my frontal lobe. As motivators go, it was a pretty good one.
--Ok, so that's a little dramatic, but really not too far from the truth
(except the part about the frontal lobe, of course). Kyali Corwynall started
out as a patchwork of some of my favorite characters from books like Robin
McKinley's The Blue Sword and The Hero and the Crown, and Patricia McKillip's Cygnet,
going all the way back to Barbara Helen Berger's Gwinna, which I
read when I was seven. My brain is like cosmic flypaper: the stuff I like (or
hate) sticks, accumulates, eventually acquires a gravitational field, and
before I know it light's bending around it and I'm up at 3 am mainlining coffee
and my keyboard's broken. Sword was like that. One day I had
scattered pieces, and the next I had a character with layers, flaws, goals,
scars, and a complicated history. Stories always start that way for me, no
matter how cool my premise may be (or how cool I may think it is, anyway) --my
characters inspire and drive it, start to finish.
3) Since your novel is medieval-influenced, can you tell us a bit about your
researching journey?
Wow. How I'd love to give you a list of planned, organized steps I took. It
would make me feel so much smarter!
But no. I stumbled into the research for Sword much like I did
the story itself. I think my research began the moment I realized I had no idea
how heavy a sword really was, or how hard it might be to wear armor and, you
know, walk at the same time. I remember thinking writing fantasy would be easy
(yes, feel free to laugh at me). It didn't take long before I realized it was
very, very obvious when I didn't know what I was talking about. So I went from
looking up Irish baby names online to running to the library after work to find
the Focloir Scoile or The Book of the Sword. I
eventually learned to restrain myself, because research can be a wonderful
excuse for not writing when you're stuck-- but overall, it was great fun.
4) What's your best revision tip?
Remember basic dramatic structure when you're reading your draft(s). It
definitely doesn't always apply, and definitely shouldn't always
apply, but I've found it can be a great lens: I can look at the whole story,
each subplot and character arc, each chapter, and each scene with that
structure in mind, and I'll always find something to tweak. Or
mangle. Or outright kill.
...Revision is a slightly violent process for me.
11 Random Things About Me (Amy Bai)
Because 10
is just too even a number for my rebellious soul.
1) I
occasionally take 3-hour baths. Yes, really. I have started and finished books
in there, and I am not ashamed, except possibly of my heating bill.
2) I lose
every social grace I can (tentatively) lay claim to when I get behind the wheel
of a car. I think it is perfectly fine to tailgate people driving too slow for
my taste, and just as acceptable to bait fellow drivers tailgating me. I unconsciously speed up when somebody passes me. I
gently encourage people driving in front of me to pull over with flashing
headlights, honking horn, and occasional hand gestures. And yet, though my
grill may be locked to your bumper the whole way in, I’m nonetheless likely to
hold the door for you when we’re walking into the building together, even if
you’re in the process of telling me what a dangerous bitch I am on the road.
Don’t ask me to explain this. It’s a pathology.
3) I think
meat is totally gross. And I have since I was about 7 years old. When we had
our family visits to McDonald’s (hey, backwoods town in Maine; it really was
the big hangout) I used to eat only cheeseburgers because I believed the cheese
negated the beef. This logic only worked for me until I was about 8, and then I
moved on to about a pint of A-1 sauce, which certainly had the effect of negating
the taste, if not the existence, of meat. And when I was 9 I gave up the red
stuff altogether, and I think I was 13 or 14 when poultry went. I’d love to
claim some great moral objection, but while I think the methods of raising and
slaughtering are more than reason to give meat up, I stopped because it was
dead flesh, and well, ew.
4) I once
dressed in poplar leaves stitched together with twigs and tree sap. I wasn’t
alone, either.
5) My first
real story was an action-romance about two of my classmates in second grade.
Poor Brian and Charity were drowned, mugged, shot from a cannon, chased by
lions across the Sahara, and Charity herself died at least once before they
shared their first sloppy, painfully-depicted kiss. Their real-life counterparts
were horrified when I was picked to read the installments out loud in front of
the class. The teacher, who probably wasn’t the best choice for the classroom,
was extremely amused. And I, of course, was hooked.
6) I own The Secret of Nimh. And I do on
occasion watch it. So should you. Because it’s awesome.
7) I loved
writing essays in college. Even dreadfully hungover, scratchy-eyed and
exhausted, I still loved writing essays. I know this makes me a freak, and I
don’t care.
8) I am a
conflicted cynic: I don’t believe in happy endings, but I still want one.
9) I count
sounds. I don’t mean to; it just happens. I turn on the blinker, sit there in
traffic waiting for someone who appears to be moving slowly enough that I can
cut across their path, and by the time I get into the parking lot the little
ticky noise has happened 128 times, 64 if you’re counting the high and low tics
as one unit.
10) I
cringe when I write big angsty melodrama, and yet somehow both the emotional
and the plot arcs of all my books head inevitably toward climactic scenes of
great angst and melodrama.
11) When I
am stressed for too hard and too long, or in constant physical pain or ill
health, I tend to write backward. And I don’t mean switching letters: I mean
whole sentences, spelled (mostly) correctly, and completely backward except for
the capitalization and punctuation.
Links
Purchase:
Giveaway
One winner will receive an ebook copy of Sword. To enter follow this blog and leave a blog post comment. Giveaway ends 28th February 2015. INTERNATIONAL
A print copy of Sword (which comes with an extra short story and character sketches) and a poster of the cover. INTERNATIONAL
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Author bio
Amy Bai has been, by order of neither chronology nor preference, a barista, a numbers-cruncher, a paper-pusher, and a farmhand. She likes thunderstorms, the enthusiasm of dogs, tall boots and long jackets, cinnamon basil, margaritas, and being surprised by the weirdness of her fellow humans. She lives in New England with her guitar-playing Russian husband and two very goofy sheepdogs.
Author links
Giveway organised by
I Heart Robot by Suzanne van Rooyen
Author Bio
