The Shadow’s Grasp by Courtney Lillard

The angels of Yeluthia abandoned their alliance. Demons are merely legends of the past. If those are the truths Coura grew up learning, why is she thrown between both during her first venture outside of the Magic Arts Academy? Both creatures are real, but which is friend and which is foe?
With her life teetering on the edge of uncertainty after completing her dark magic training, she thought traveling to the palace with her mentor, Byron, would allow her time to figure out what she values most. Instead, they discover whispers of political manipulation surrounding a new law that could impact the future for all mages. If that wasn’t difficult enough for her to keep up with, Coura also falls into something much more frightening: a secret locked away within herself. A pair of black wings opposite to those belonging to the angelic race and seething with demonic power attach themselves to her, labeling her as an enemy to some and a threat to all.
Decades have passed since anyone has seen either and questions are raised as the world of magic is evolving. Armed with sword work, dark magic, and newfound demonic abilities, Coura is thrown into the part she was fated to play in the battle between the angels and long-forgotten demons.

Targeted Age Group:: 13-24

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
The Dark Angel series has been an idea of mine for nearly a decade and is inspired both by the fantasy books I read and the anime I enjoyed. Once I had a full series in my mind, I began writing as a hobby and never intended to publish anything until my husband and friends encouraged me to try. Now, I have most of the series written with Book Two releasing later this year.

How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
The characters in my story are reflections of various parts of myself. Coura, the female protagonist, represents characteristics of my husband while her mentor, Byron, reflects myself. Coura's development and eventual issues with anxiety also represent what I felt when I dealt with that.

Book Sample
“I thought our adventure would be a little more exciting,” Coura said behind Byron, who turned his head to hear her from where he led a few steps ahead.
“Well, what did you expect? Remember, it takes a few days to get to the capital.” He faced forward and continued at a leisurely pace.
“You don’t even get a horse?” To her amazement, he only laughed and continued onward.
I guess that’s a no then, she thought as she adjusted the bag on her shoulders before trotting up to walk beside her teacher. Although he would never mention it, Byron seemed to enjoy the company more than he initially let on.
Only a few hours ago the two set out from East Hoover on their journey to the palace in the capital city of Verona. Byron was taking extra steps with her addition to make sure she behaved, something Coura couldn’t blame him for doing. He even lectured her during the first part of the day on traveling safety, proper manners in a public setting, and whatever else he deemed important. She continued nodding and promised to not cause trouble, but eventually he caught on to her excitement at finally leaving the academy. That visibly eased some of his tension, and they
fell into conversations about more casual topics, like local wildlife and climate conditions for the area.
That evening they settled in a clearing just off of the road. Byron assigned Coura the task of starting a fire, feeding it, and collecting enough wood to last the night while he set up their bedrolls and cooking supplies. With no more than a wave of her hand and a touch of the energies in her center, she created sparks that caught on to the tinder. Once a basic fire was going, she rose and turned away to fetch the firewood.
“Just a moment, Coura,” Byron called from nearby. When she faced him again, she was startled to see him rise and stomp out the tiny fire with one foot.
“What are you doing?”
He rummaged calmly through the bag again, pulled out two stones, and tossed them to her. She caught and stared down at them without comprehending.
“Make it again.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so,” Byron answered as he sat down once again and pulled out bread, fruit, and dried meats that would serve as their supper.
Coura cocked her head at him, waiting for more, and finally raised a hand once again to cast a fire spell. To spite him, she made the flame larger and it caught on to the smashed kindle.
Instead of rising, Byron picked up the frying pan at his side and beat down the flames until they disappeared into the dirt while Coura watched, silent with irritation. Only after he set down the pan did he gaze up at her with some challenge in his eyes.
“Make it again,” was all he said with a nod to the stones in her hands.
“I did,” she responded with a crooked smile.
“Let me be more clear. Make it again, but with the fire-starting stones you’re holding. Unless you think not using magic for this task is too daunting?”
They both knew this game far too well. When Byron wanted certain results, he would find a way to challenge her into understanding. However, this time she was more curious than determined to prove herself. “I will when you tell me why.”
“Because I say so.”
Coura narrowed her eyes at her instructor, who remained where he was. “That’s not a good reason.”
“Perhaps, but it is still mine to answer your question. Now hurry up, it’s getting dark.”
With a muttered curse, Coura knelt down next to the remains of the previous fires, arranged them into acceptable tinder, and began sliding one stone against the other until after a short time a spark flew onto what was left. She coddled the weak flame until it rose enough to not go out for a few minutes.
“There, are you happy?” She tossed the stones carelessly in front of Byron on the ground, then hurried into the edge of the campsite to grab whatever twigs and branches she could find.
“You will find more hearty pieces if you head farther in,” her teacher called from that same spot.
Coura ignored him and continued her task. When she collected a sufficient amount of wood, she dropped the armload into a pile before feeding her fire.
It wasn’t until after they ate a simple supper of dried meat, toasted bread with butter and cheese, and an apple for dessert did Coura feel like making conversation. “Why did you have me use fire stones instead of magic?”
“For two reasons,” Byron began as he wiped his hands on the grass. “First, we typically never use stones to make a fire. I wanted to make sure you knew how to do it just in case.”
“Why would I need to though? You taught me that mages manipulate the energy inside our center. There is energy in us as long as we are alive, right? Why wouldn’t I be able to use that?”
“Well, what do you know about light and dark energies?”
Coura bit her lip. “Light energy allows some people to us light magic and dark energy lets us use dark magic.”
“That’s putting it very simply, but alright. What if there is no dark energy for us to use?”
She pondered that for a moment. “When does that happen? I’ve never seen or heard of a mage lacking the energy to use magic.”
“Try not to think of this lesson in terms of a mage not having enough energy. That will be for another time since we won’t have to worry about it. What I am referring to happens rarely, but there are situations with certain circumstances when we can’t use our magic, or it would be better not to use spells. What if you were trying to avoid detection or working with a group uncomfortable with mages? I have multiple stories where it was dangerous for me to use magic.”
“Really? You never told me about that,” Coura said with growing interest.
Byron nodded and went on. “In my earlier years stationed in Fester, there was a fire outside of the city. It was in an old farmhouse and the family was terrified. I helped put out the flames while they watched. At first, I started to use a shield to keep the flames contained and eventually snuff them out. The owners of the farmhouse went mad. You see, they thought it was magic that started that fire, so seeing me use it connected me to their suffering. Not to mention it made me a suspect in that moment.”
“So, what did you do?” she interrupted, unable to imagine anyone not used to seeing a simple spell at work.
“I took down my shield and grabbed a bucket like the others. It may have taken longer and caused more damage in the end, but it brought less chaos to the already-heated family.” Byron gave her a sidelong glance as if expecting her next question.
“Okay, I understand the first reason. What’s the second?”
His lips bent into a frown. “Obedience.”
“What?”
“It is no secret you have trouble following directions, Coura. I promised the headmaster and my fellow instructors I would work on that with you.”
Something about the way Byron phrased his words bothered her. “Do you have a problem with that?”
As she expected, he paused to look past her. “I do, and before you say anything just listen. There’s an appropriate time to follow your own judgements, and also times when you should trust others and obey their direction.”
“What if they are wrong? What if they don’t understand the full situation?” Coura asked, reminded of her issues in class. “How can you sacrifice your own needs to blindly follow someone else, especially if you do not know them personally?”
“As I said, you should be able to understand when to follow your own instincts and when to follow someone else’s instructions. In your classes, instead of using the extra time to practice or seeking help for your skills, you disrupted the other trainees’ progress and got punished. Tonight, you disobeyed my orders because you didn’t trust my intentions. In the army, that is seen as treachery.”
“If you would have told me all of this before, I would have done it,” she argued and tried to wrap her head around his words.
“You’re missing the point, Coura. There is not always going to be time to explain. Sometimes you don’t get an explanation because there isn’t one. You have to trust your leader and their decision-making. It might not turn out as you think, but no one knows for sure. Most importantly, how can you expect to earn others’ trust and loyalty if you are not willing to share yours?”
“I will earn it through my own actions and decisions.”
“Look where that put you with your instructors,” he added with a hint of frustration. “What if your choices and actions cause harm or trouble? That may not be your intention, but there are generals you will work under in the future who have experience guiding armies toward a goal. Their soldiers risk their lives for beliefs embodied in their leaders.”
“When did I mention I was going to be a soldier?” she asked bluntly.
Byron stopped at that, blinking at her as if realizing what his words implied. While she wrapped herself up in her own blanket, Coura wondered what made him assume she would join the army.
“No matter what you say, I trust myself over a stranger,” she concluded matter-of-factly. “If they give me the information I need to make a decision, I can work with them, I will never give anyone my power or skills blindly.”
With that, Coura laid down, facing away from Byron as he continued to watch her. After a few moments passed, she heard him move around and then silence. His lack of a response brought a wave of guilt over her.
I do not regret what I said at all. No one should ever be forced to follow someone else’s orders without knowing their intentions. Then again, I guess I see what he means about trusting in those who are more experienced and know better. Byron’s voice in the quiet evening her startled her out of the self-reflection.
“Do you trust me enough to follow my orders?”
Of course, I do, she wanted to laugh at him. I wouldn’t have come along with you if I was not willing to work with you. After a moment of thought, Coura noticed that his tone suggested more than what she heard. That’s not what he is asking. I think he wants to know if I believe in his intentions enough to follow without questioning.
In response, she replied honestly with what she thought he wanted to hear. “Yes, I trust you Byron.”