Lucius is a tall, lanky, perpetually clumsy human college student completely out of balance with his body; yet his strong talent in reading and deciphering Mayan text is attracting some unwanted attention. He unknowingly begins his journey with the Nightkeepers when a demon enters his body and mind during a battle. And if that isn't enough, an ancient spell marks him as the next prophet. After a near- death experience, Lucius must figure out his purpose and where he fits in with the heroes attempting to keep the world from coming to an end. Unfortunately, when he is unable to tap into the prophet magic, the Royal Counsel sends his former lover, Jade, to assist him. Though Lucius will not turn down the offer, he will proceed on his own terms. He is no longer a scared and unsure kid.
Jade is becoming restless with her part as a Nightkeeper. She belongs to the Harvest Clan, which keeps her buried in the Nightkeeper archives away from danger, since she doesn't have the Warrior glyph tattoo. Six months ago, Lucius was keeping Jade company, buried in books and research. However, after his tragic experience, Lucius has distanced himself from Jade and their former relationship. She understands that in order for him to tap into the prophet magic, he needs to get to the Nightkeeper library and use Sex Magic to boost his power. Jade gladly sacrifices herself for the duty, making sure Lucius understands they are just friends with benefits. The magic they generate together takes Jade on a journey through her Nightkeeper past, unlocking secrets and confusing her more than ever.
This is the fourth book in the Final Prophecy series and it's just as powerful as the first three. The characters are impressive and deeply emotional, and the plot weaves an extraordinary tale you don't want to miss. I am excited to see where Jessica Andersen's imagination takes me next. An awesome read!
βWhatβs this?β Jade moved to the TV and raised a hand to
trace the stylized figures of six men arranged in an
asymmetrical pattern, two on the left, four on the right.
Five wore elaborate, feather-worked headdresses made from
the skulls of jaguars and coyotes, along with protective
shielding that covered only one side of their bodies. The
sixth stood at the far right, apart from the others.
Wearing a musicianβs loincloth and lacking a headdress, he
held a conch shell to his lips. Glyphs emerged from the
crude instrument as though they were musical notes, though
no such scheme had been identified for the ancient Maya.
The paint colors ranged from pale mauve through rusty red
to charcoal black. The earthy hues reflected on Jadeβs face
as she frowned, trying to parse out the glyphs.
βDonβt bother, it doesnβt make any sense,β he said. βThe
current theory is that the artist was illiterate, and just
copied a bunch of cool-looking glyphs from other places.
Itβs just gibberish.β He didnβt say why heβd been studying
the painting, why it was important to him.
Under other circumstances, with another woman, talking
translation wouldβve spoiled the mood. With Jade, though,
it only served to heighten the sense of intimacy provided
by the small, quiet cottage and the rust-red light. They
shared a love of language, and although he couldnβt
honestly say he was more attracted to her brains than her
body, the two together had made a hell of an impression
when heβd first met her.
Or rather, once heβd gotten past her habitual reserve,
which came across as shyness, but heβd learned was her way
of hiding in plain sight. They each suffered from their own
cultural conditioning, heβd long ago realized, though hers
had come from a too-demanding winikin and a set of writs
rather than a disappointed family and the gods of football.
βThereβs something β¦β She trailed off, still frowning at
the glyphs, but then she shook her head and turned back to
him, expression going from intrigued to warmth with a hint
of nerves. βNever mind. Weβre here for a different reason,
arenβt we?β
Which was trueβit wasnβt like this was just about sex, for
either of them.
There was a far larger goal, one that hung over them,
weighing on him as it had for nearly half a year now, only
this time edged with a sharp sense of anticipation.
Determination. He was getting his ass into the library,
whatever it took. And if that meant that the Nightkeepersβ
needs and his own desire to be part of things wound up
getting all mixed together with the desire he felt for Jadeβ
had felt for her from that first day theyβd worked togetherβ
then that was part of the Nightkeepersβ culture, wasnβt
it?
Sex was magic, magic was power, and power could save the
world.
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