World of Dawn: Reveal

World of Dawn: Reveal (Book 2) by Shawn Gale



The journey to find a way home continues for the boys and girls of Halton House. With Ambrose as their guide, they strike off on their next leg to seek help from the enigmatic Women of the North. At the same time, Glooscap of Sawnay, their travelling companion and now friend, must try to find the cause of the poison tainting the Sawnay’s mighty river Cootamain.
They soon find themselves in an arid and desolate landscape. Though the land may be different, they quickly realize the story of upheaval is the same. In the middle of the night, they are awoken by barks and snarls. They are lead into the midst of a violent act, one in which they can’t sit idly by and watch. The decision to help propels them into a world more nightmare than reality, more death than life, and more questions than answers. To save a people from genocide, the group must face their biggest test yet. Not only must they overcome their differences, but also tyranny in its most barbaric form.
With World of Dawn on the verge of irrevocable change, the group’s priorities start to blur. Do they go home at the first chance? Or do they stay and help Glooscap and the Sawnay? The latter of which seems tied to the mysterious and all-powerful One Who Sees All. Finding their true selves may not be the easiest answer to their dilemma. And what’s revealed makes finding a way home even more complicated.
Join them once again in the second installment of World of Dawn. A coming-of-age story in which a journey to find a way home becomes a quest to save a world.



…the wanton destruction, zealous bloodlust, and bodies littering the ground like broken toys in a sandbox. Yes, they would. I was sure of it. And Colby might’ve been right. Maybe they were mean, nasty, and tough as nails, but then Mother Nature was the ultimate equalizer—unpredictable, unstoppable, and unforgiving. I knew that first hand. So there I lay waiting, unmoving, heart thumping like a boxer working a speed bag.

A minute passed, then another. I kept clenching and re-clenching my sabre hilt, trying to calm my heart, steel my nerves. Then I felt it. Ever so slightly the ground began shaking. A moment later the sands shifted toward the centre of the sinkhole.

They were getting close. Heat bloomed against my chest from my pouch, I heard meaty thuds, clinks of steel, and warhorses chuffing right before the first slavers crested the far side of the dune at full speed. A gleeful shout erupted when they saw me lying there—a  fallen rider easy for the pickings. Pair after pair charged over the dune, all cutting directly across the sinkhole toward me. Too fast to notice that our tracks skirted to the right.

Then I saw the first rider drop and vanish as if he’d stepped on a trapdoor. The one behind went next. Both gone in the blink of an eye. Horses bellowed in panic and fright and slavers screamed in surprise and horror as they grasped what was happening.

The ones in the rear had built up so much momentum that they didn’t have a chance to stop or turn. They simply rammed and crashed into the ones in front of them, like an auto pile-up on the
highway. They toppled over to be gobbled up, screaming, pleading, and gasping for their final breaths amid bomb-like bursts of sand. It was frigging unbelievable.