Brotherhood of Shades

Brotherhood of Shades
Dawn Finch

From the chaos of Dissolution rises a secret order, a Brotherhood formed to protect the world of the living from the world of the dead.Growing up on the streets of London, Adam knows nothing of the dark and precarious world that exists just beyond his reality – until he dies, cold and alone, aged 14. Now, after years of abandonment, Adam discovers he is important: an Order that was formed many centuries ago to protect the world of the living from the world of the dead needs him – an Order of ghosts.Adam finds himself thrown into the spectral world of Toby D’Scover, head of Section One of the Brotherhood of Shades, a mysterious character who believes Adam to be a foretold savior, The Sentinel. Together, Adam and the Brotherhood must battle unseen forces and deadly Elemental spirits to find a coded manuscript and save the world.Will you join the Brotherhood?

BROTHERHOOD OF SHADES

Dawn Finch

Dedication

For my two biggest fans – my daughter Eden and my dad

Contents

Cover (#u4e825f31-5798-5179-9d34-856111152941)

Title Page (#u1015cb54-7a19-5fd6-ba8b-ab66c90b2682)

Dedication

Chapter One – Abbey Boy

Chapter Two – The Boy with No Name

Chapter Three – D’Scover

Chapter Four – The Good Sister

Chapter Five – Death Day

Chapter Six – Old Friends

Chapter Seven – The Keeper of the Texts

Chapter Eight – Two Boys

Chapter Nine – Reallocation

Chapter Ten – Lessons for Life after Death

Chapter Eleven – The Senior Council

Chapter Twelve – Demon

Chapter Thirteen – Witch Hunt

Chapter Fourteen – Freedom Farm

Chapter Fifteen – Edie

Chapter Sixteen – Friend of the Texts

Chapter Seventeen – The Queen’s Magician

Chapter Eighteen – A Vision in White

Chapter Nineteen – Ancient Sisters

Chapter Twenty – The Reading Room

Chapter Twenty-One – Onslaught

Epilogue

D’Scover’s World

About the Author

About Authonomy

Copyright

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One – Abbey Boy

A Benedictine Monastery in Hertfordshire – 1534

The small dark room was filled with the stench of bodies, a harsh, acidic smell of unwashed flesh and decay that clung to all those who passed through. A bare flame guttered and spat on its fatty candle as two men, clothed in black robes with a white cord binding their waists, leaned over the two ragged bundles on the floor.

“The mother is dead?” The older man spoke.

“She lingered long enough to hear my words, but the pestilence was too strong in her.”

“And the boy?”

They both turned their attention to the sweat-stained rags that loosely covered a body-shaped bundle, unconscious and yet still clinging to his dead mother.

“He sickens as his mother. I cannot say if he will clear the night.”

“He has no one?” enquired the older man.

“None have come here, and it is too late to find kin tonight. We do not even know his name.”

The older man straightened his back and winced as it clicked straight.

“Put him with the others in the huts, and tell Father Dominic he shall need three to pass this one over.” He walked towards the door, turning back just before he left. “And order the gates closed: we shall have no more of these fouled peasants this night. I am too weary and there is no more space. We shall wait until morning and then see how many more have died. It is not as if anyone will enquire after them. London cares not how the plague lingers in these forsaken places.”

“I shall have one of the men move him.”