Lincoln Shand

The Root of Infinity: Conjunction Born

At this Prime Conjunction, even time will shatter.

Dorik has always lived between visions of timelines that should not exist. But when he inadvertently causes his sister’s death, the secret is out: he is a Conjunction Born, a magically gifted outcast marked for execution by a world that fears the circumstances of his birth.

On the run and hunted by malevolent forces that feed on the fabric of time, Dorik’s only hope lies in a group of fellow outcasts. Among them are a technologist determined to prove their worth, a conjurer marked for sacrifice, and a woman who can tilt the odds of the future. But it is his immediate connection to Timia—a fellow Conjunction Born whose combined heritage terrifies those around her—that changes everything. Not only does she accept him for who he is, but for the first time, Dorik sees his ability not as a curse that killed his family, but as a gift he might actually learn to wield.

As reality begins to splinter, Dorik’s uncontrollable ability is all that stands between what was and what could be. To prevent total collapse, he faces devastating choices: learn how to master his abilities to rewrite the past and save his sister, or protect the present and watch his new family perish as time unravels around them. Every ripple he creates in time threatens to erase the very people he is trying to protect, forcing him to decide if the life he lost is worth risking the new love he’s found.

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Advanced Reader’s Copy Now Available:

• Book One – Conjunction Born: Digital Copy – 1 of 20
• Book One – Conjunction Born: Paper Book – 1 of 4 (6 copies are already spoken for)
• Book Two – The Boundless: Digital Copy – 1 of 20
• Book Two – The Boundless: Paper Copy = 1 of 6 (4 copies are already spoken for)

To order, please fill out the form at this link: The Root of Infinity: ARC

Orders will be available mid/end of September

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Conjunction Born – Chapter 1: One of the Lost (Excerpt)

“Banishment?” Dorik responded weakly as the now-familiar pull on his senses threatened to overflow into his waking world. 

From the space above him, whispers of those who sat on the edge of the pit they had imprisoned him in wafted down. He was trapped. For the most part, their silhouettes were all that he could decipher as they sat or stood with the torchlight behind them. Many people, friends and enemies alike—mostly enemies—had come to point down upon him in judgment. Their hushed murmurs only served to heighten the echoes inside his mind. 

Hold still! Dorik chided himself. 

His fist clenched behind his back, anchoring him to reality. It was a chilly night, and he was cold. There was a slim chance that his shaking could be misconstrued as his undressed body, in only a sleeveless undershirt and billowy brown pants, shivering. After all, his breath was billowing out each time he spoke. 

But he was only fooling himself. He didn’t have to work hard to imagine those above looking down at him with suspicion because, most assuredly, they were. They didn’t need more evidence to judge him as insane. Some already thought that his mind was lost. 

He, distressingly, thought so too.

Nevertheless, Dorik felt the reverberations of his own words ripple outwards as if they churned out infinite possibilities. “Time does not travel in reverse,” as the saying goes. He knew that actions had repercussions that caused one branch of probability to grow while others decayed. 

He knew because, at times like these, he saw the splintering of reality that decisions, both minor and significant, made. Shadow images of himself and others drifted in his vision, spreading out in front of him like forks in the road. He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to block out the visions of the impossible. 

Above him, standing on the edges of the twenty-paces deep pit that he had been tossed into, conspiratorial voices whispered as they sat in judgment of his actions. If time didn’t go backward, then once a branch of possibility was on the path of decay, the consequences were irreversible—were they not?

“Am I not going to be given a chance to earn the rest of my bracelets, then?” Dorik continued. 

The Oreias above him, the sorcerers of this planet, mainly stood in the shadows. Dorik dared not move more than a step in either direction. A blinding spotlight of Oreian magic encircled him, further obscuring his ability to recognize individuals. True, the light halo was meant to illuminate the spot where he stood, but it was also a prison that would burn his cocoa skin to a crisp if he brushed against its edges. At least he had recently trimmed off his longer, braided hair in favor of short, fuzzy curls, or that would have been roasted off as well. 

“‘Banishment?’” the easily recognizable voice of Amoro, one of the First Oreias, boomed from above. “No, child. You misunderstand.” Dorik could imagine him flashing a mischievous smile in the dim space above. 

Cold, distant, and calculating, Amoro was an Oreia who never did anything on a whim. He would always have a clear purpose behind his words and actions. Dorik didn’t have to wait long before his full intent became known.

 “While yes, you’re banished,” Amoro continued, “you will also be stripped of the bracelets you have already earned and the bracelet you have stolen. Your punishment is not mere banishment. You will become one of the Lost.”

He’d just been condemned to death.

(Note: The image above was generated by my prompt added to midjourney.com.)

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