[Silistra 03] • Le Vent Du Chaos

She was descended from the masters of the universe. To hold her he challenged

the gods...

Epic fantasy, social science fiction, allegorical fiction, anthropological

fiction, post-apocalyptic fiction

Wind from the Abyss is the third volume in Janet Morris' classic Silistra

Quartet, continuing one woman's quest for self-realization in a distant

tomorrow.

Aristocrat. Outcast. Picara. Slave. Ruler ....

She is descended from the masters of the universe. To hold her he challenges

the gods themselves.

This Perseid Press Author's Cut Edition is revised and expanded by the author

and presented in a format designed to enhance your reading experience with

covers designed for these premium editions.

Wind from the Abyss begins with this note from Estri. . .

Author's Note

Since, at the beginning of this tale, I did not recollect myself nor retain

even the slightest glimmer of such understanding as would have led me to an

awareness of the significance of the various occurrences that transpired at

the Lake of Horns then, I am adding this preface, though it was no part of my

initial conception, that the meaningfulness of the events described by "Khys'

Estri" (as I have come to think of the shadow-self I was while the dharen held

my skills and memory in abeyance) not be withheld from you as they were from

me.

I knew myself not: I was Estri because the girl Carth supposedly found

wandering in the forest stripped of comprehension and identity chose that

name. There, perhaps, lies the greatest irony of all, that I named myself anew

after Estri Hadrath diet Estrazi, who in reality I had once been. And perhaps

it is not irony at all, but an expression of Khys' humor, an implicit

dissertation by him who structured my experiences, my very thoughts, for

nearly two years, until his audacity drove him to bring together once more

Sereth crill Tyris, past-Slayer, then the outlawed Ebvrasea, then arrar to the

dharen himself; Chayin rendi Inekte, cahndor of Nemar, co-cahndor of the Taken

Lands, chosen so of Tar-Kesa, and at that time Khys' puppet-vassal; and

myself, former Well-Keepress, tiask of Nemar, and lastly becoming the

chaldless outlaw who had come to judgment and endured ongoing retribution at

the dharen's hands. To test his hesting, his power over owkahen, the time-

coming-to-be, did Khys put us together, all three, in his Day-Keeper's city --

and from that moment onward, the Weathers of Life became fixed: siphoned into

a singular future; sealed tight as a dead god in his mausoleum, whose every

move brought him closer to the sum total, obliteration. So did the dharen Khys

bespeak it, himself. . . .