Mark Stay is a screenwriter and author of the Witches of Woodville series and The End of Magic trilogy. His most recent film Unwelcome premiered at the Sitges Festival, and was released by Warner Bros. in 2023. Nautilus, the #1 Amazon Prime TV series about the young Captain Nemo, was based on his treatment.

Mark was also co-presenter of the award-winning Bestseller Experiment podcast, which has inspired writers all over the world to finish and publish their books. He now presents the Creative Differences podcast for writers. Born in London, he lives in Kent with Youtube gardener and writer Claire Burgess and a declining assortment of retired chickens.

The End of Magic 2 - The End of Dragons by Mark Stay

The Thrilling Sequel to The End of Magic

To Survive, They Must Kill The Last of Her Kind.

The Lapis Moon is gone. Magic is dying. The world has moved on.

Mages, however, are an endangered species. Sander Bree is scraping a living as a mage for hire, Rosheen Katell is in hiding with her brother Oskar. All mages are outlawed, exiled, dodging assassins and the wrath of Archbishop Yorath Pasco who would gladly have them skewered in public.

Then a dragon attacks a small fishing village on the Parthalan coast. Dragons aren't supposed to exist in these enlightened times, and so the Archbishop suggests a deal: if Sander and Rosheen use their magic to slay the dragon without fuss then their slates will be wiped clean. Of course, they encounter personal betrayals, political backstabbing, criminal shenanigans and a bloody great dragon in a rollicking adventure that will keep you on the edge of your seat.

 

REVIEWS

  • "Pratchettesque humour mixed with gritty fantasy."

    – Reader Review

  • "Plenty of wit, along with a healthy dose of heartbreak."

    – Reader Review

  • "A page-turning piece of fantasy."

    – Reader Review

  • "Bloodthirsty, funny and heartwarming."

    – Reader Review
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

1

Oskar's voice burst into Gudrun's mind.

Please forgive me, Gudrun, I love you…

Oskar was always apologising for something, but this was no ordinary plea. This felt like a farewell. Unsettled, Gudrun tried sitting up on the rocky ground. She would find Oskar and calm him.

The healing pool craters of Tofa's Peak bubbled as they had done for millennia. Petra, the young lime-green wyvern that had flown them here, snuggled around the nearest pool, snoring gently. Her saddle lay next to her, but Oskar was nowhere to be seen. Gudrun made to call for him, but her mouth was dry, her throat felt like she'd swallowed broken glass, and her blood boiled inside her. Exhausted by this feeble attempt at speech, Gudrun welcomed the warm embrace of sleep.

When she next woke, the sun was setting and the tips of her fingers and nose were cold. Petra hopped between the pools, pouncing after some unseen quarry. Gudrun's mind was beginning to feel like her own again, and she recalled the last conversation she'd had with Oskar. She'd asked him never to leave. And he'd sworn that he never would.

So where the bloody hell was he?

Gudrun got her bearings. If she could see the setting sun, then she was on the western side of the mountain. Halaya, the market town where she was born, was in the foothills on the eastern side. Only a few miles as the wyvern flew, but a world of winding mountain paths away on foot.

She closed her eyes. Pinpricks of light burst into life in her mind. A cluster of them further down the mountain path. People. Whoever they were, Oskar was not with them. His light shone brighter than any other, and no matter how hard Gudrun concentrated, she couldn't find him anywhere. She buried her fear, trying not to think what that might mean. Perhaps he was so far away that she had no hope of seeing him. Taranis, perhaps? Or even his homeland of Eru? It still didn't explain why the silly sod wasn't here as he'd promised.

She focused on the pinpricks of light nearby. Salm villagers, Gudrun reckoned. The blanket wrapped around her had a chain-like pattern along its edges. A Salm design. And those who lived on the eastern side of the mountain were devout worshippers of Tofa, an ancient god who gifted them the healing pools before lying down and becoming a mountain. Or something. Gudrun hadn't paid much attention during religious instruction lessons at school. Even as a mute moon child, she had wanted to get away from this dead-end backwater. And here she was, healing in its pools until she had the strength to heal herself.

She didn't recall falling asleep again, but when she woke the sun was throwing long shadows. Morning once more. Petra was nudging Gudrun's backside with her wet nose. Gudrun grunted as she rolled over, then gasped to find a freshly caught, still-living golden carp wriggling in Petra's jaws.

'Aw, Petra, did you bring me breakfast?'

Petra dropped the carp by Gudrun's feet, panting expectantly.

The fish, for its part, must have sensed the nearby healing pools as it flexed its body to flip into one of them.

'Truth is, I'm not that hungry.' Gudrun gestured at the fish. 'And carp taste like mud, so either put that poor thing back, or⁠—'

Petra gobbled up the startled carp in one quick gulp.