For centuries the Awen's duty has passed from woman to woman: guard the three relics from those who would control the world. But no threat has come to Aisling's hostel door at Ireland's western edge, and the newest Awen has yet to prove herself. Then Jay and Tiran arrive shortly after a more powerful relic has vanished from The Blast Memorial in the ruins of Galway. Now Aisling wonders who she can trust: her mentor Jake Connemara, or the two travelers she both suspects and is drawn to. The time of Aisling's test has come. If the Awen fails, one of these men will bring the world to a terrible fate.
HOME SWEET ROAD is a captivating page-turner in Anthony St. Clair's Rucksack Universe. If you like Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, or Octavia Butler, you'll love this ongoing fantasy series of globetrotting intrigue.
Fantasy author and beer writer Anthony St. Clair has walked with hairy coos in the Scottish Highlands, choked on seafood in Australia, and watched the full moon rise over Mt. Everest in Tibet. The creator of the Rucksack Universe series, Anthony has traveled the sights and beers of Thailand, Japan, India, Canada, Ireland, the USA, Cambodia, China and Nepal. He and his wife live in Eugene, Oregon, and gave their kids passports when they were babies. Learn more at www.anthonystclair.com.
Galway Ruin—and, over a hundred years on, the Memorial Center that is now there—gets a wee mention in Home Sweet Road. We'll go there again in Wander, and lately I've been fiddling with some more stories about Aisling, and a connection between her, Rucksack, and Galway Ruin.
Thinking about this part of the Rucksack Universe always makes me wonder: what is the extent of life's ability to come back from devastation?
Home Sweet Road
People loved Clifden and they loved the Twelve Bens. They came from all the world over, usually stopping first at The Blast Memorial where Galway used to be, then catching a bus in New Galway and heading north, where the hills were brown and green, where the peat was in the earth and in the air. Despite all the soft rain that made the place feel quiet and remote, the world crackled with energy here, the travelers liked to say. Some people claimed it was a residual explosive power from The Blast, but the researchers at the center near the Memorial had disproven that time and time again. Besides, they said, nothing was lingering now, nearly two centuries later.