Here’s a little sneak peek at Volume 3 of my Chattenberg Saga. The manuscript currently stands at over 70,000 words and will soon be going through its second round of editing.
The book will be published on 31 October 2026 in German at Amazon. The English translation will follow shortly afterwards.
Spoiler alert: Please only read the two chapters that have been released if you have read Volume 2, “The Crystal Acolyte”.
Ferron stood by the window of his study, his hands clasped behind his back. He stared up at the sky. Wispy clouds were drifting in from the west. It was thanks to the air and water mages, for he hadn’t seen any clouds over Chattenberg for a long time. Yet the swallows were still circling far too high for him to expect the rain that was due to bring an end to the sweltering summer any time soon. There was a knock at the wooden door and he flinched. The corners of his mouth turned upwards and he turned round. “Come in.” Glandera’s shy expression softened the moment their eyes met. As he looked into her large, brown eyes, his heart beat faster. She was the love of his life and he thanked Allah every day for having found her.
“Good morning, Master Ferron.”
“Good morning, Acolyte Glandera. Please sit down; we have a few things to discuss.” His voice sounded more formal than he’d intended, and he cleared his throat. How he would have loved to pull her into his arms, but in his role as her Master, he kept his distance.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “You look so serious. Has something happened?”
His expression remained impassive as he walked over to the visitor’s chair and held the backrest until she sat down. She mustn’t sense the storm raging inside him. “No. I simply have a lot on my mind and have decided to hand over some responsibilities.”
Glandera stared at her right index finger and rubbed the spot where Terrasia’s master’s ring usually sat. “What, then, is the reason I’m being expelled from the Collegium Arcanum?”
Her reproachful tone was unmistakable, but Nereida’s instructions were clear: the details of his mission were too sensitive. No acolyte was to find out anything. “It was for organisational reasons,” Ferron said curtly, walking round the desk and sitting down as well. “I called you here to talk to you about the gold mine. It’s thanks to you that we were able to continue gold extraction in Chattenberg without interruption. You know the area just as well as I do and have been down in the mines with the miners. You’re even friends with the forewoman. That’s why I wanted to ask you if you’d like to take over the management.”
“I’m to manage the mine?” Her face lit up. “Yes, I’d be delighted. I’m honoured.”
Ferron was relieved that the new responsibility was taking her mind off things. “The task will be easy for you. Perhaps you’ll even handle it better than I can.”
“Thank you for your trust.” Glandera reached for the amulet hanging from her necklace.
“You can ask me for advice at any time.” Ferron found it hard to keep his voice sounding cheerful. He watched her lovingly as she tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Why have you taken off the Master’s Ring?”
Glandera held out her hand and looked at the bare spot. “Tomorrow, Dorianna and I are visiting my family. I want to finally tell them that I’m an earth mage. That bling, as my mother would call the ring, would only distract them.”
His heart warmed. How I’d love to shower her neck with kisses. “Are you sure the time is right?” he asked gently.
“Yes, it’s just… I’m worried about how Gladis will take it,” Glandera explained, her voice sounding uncertain.
“I understand.”
“Hopefully Dorianna’s right and Grandmother will remember that they used to be friends.”
“I wish you both luck and will be thinking of you. How far have you got with the encyclopaedia?”
“I’ve read through Chapter 4.3 on the Mage Academy’s rest periods,” she replied in a calm voice. “You can test me on it.”
“I won’t do that.”
Glandera stared at him for a moment. “But … you did say I should recite the text.”
“I’m sure this is unnecessary, as you now know my rules. It would be foolish to disappoint me again and pretend you know what’s in them.” Ferron gave her a serious look. “We can save ourselves the time. I need to prepare for an assignment and work out some complicated calculations. A lot of work piled up last week.” He picked up his leather-bound notebook and turned to the next blank page.
Her lower lip pouted. “Do you want me to leave?”
The glass clinked softly as Ferron opened the inkwell. He dipped his quill into it and stared at the blank sheet of paper. His colleagues had demanded that he plan the upcoming mission down to the last detail. “If you were merely my Acolythe, I’d agree, but you’re the woman I love and the one I’ve been waiting for my whole life. I want you by my side always.” Ferron took a deep breath, but his tension didn’t ease. “You’ve completed the lesson. I’ll have Terrasia’s crystals brought to you straight away so you can examine them in your room.”
Glandera slowly stood up and walked round his desk. She ran her fingertips through his short, dark brown hair. “You told me you have no secrets from me. Will you tell me what’s weighing so heavily on your mind?”
Her touch calmed his nerves and he closed his eyes. I don’t know how much time we have left. We really could make better use of it. “Be patient,” he whispered, lifting his eyelids. Inside, he cursed, as this time he couldn’t hide the subtle nuances in his voice from her.
Her lips were warm and soft as she kissed him on the forehead. “You’ll find me in my room.”
The corners of his mouth turned upwards. The remark would have been unnecessary. As her Master, he could always pinpoint her location via the bracelet he’d placed on her wrist at the start of her training. He watched her longingly until the door clicked shut.
Delicate blue-violet lines floated throughout Ferron’s entire study, interrupted only by the six columns supporting the ceiling. With his index finger resting on his chin, he stood at the edge and stared, deeply concentrated, at the three-dimensional representation of the landscape. This enabled him to visualise the two-hundred-kilometre-wide section more clearly. Ferron focused on Machu Picchu. Beneath the mountain, four faults converged to form an X-shape. “That was precisely why the Incas chose to build their place of worship at this very spot,” he noted. Over the past few years, the pressure had been building up. Ferron had no intention of waiting for it to erupt in a massive earthquake; he wanted to evacuate the population before the tremor struck. Yet he knew from centuries of experience that even people doomed to die would not want to move their sanctuaries. So one thing was certain: if he failed, thousands would die.
He paced restlessly around the room. Nereida had instructed him to acclimatise his body to the high altitude over the coming days. It would be difficult for him not to spend a night in his cave as usual. How on earth was he to explain this to Glandera? Some colleagues had already begun transporting gemstones and crystal steps to the site. His Acolyte could tell him how much energy they emitted in total, but he could not possibly let her in on the full scope of his mission.
Ferron pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. After centuries, he had finally found the reincarnation of his soulmate and wished to spend his life with her. Although Concetto had promised to look after her in an emergency, if Ferron were to die now, he would leave her untrained. He knew that Glandera was too strong to be broken by this, yet the mere thought of her impending fate broke his heart. As long as no new Earth Mages were born, he would surely be reincarnated. How many decades would it take before the mages found his next body? He felt sick. He must not fail.
The knock on his door snapped the Earth Mage out of his thoughts. With a wave of his hand, he made the magical display fade away and closed his book before Glandera entered.
‘Are you coming for lunch?’
‘Is it that late already?’ he asked, fiddling with his breast pocket. When he looked at his pocket watch, he was startled.
“The clock struck noon ten minutes ago. You look tired. What have you been working on?”
“Calculations. They’re exhausting,” he said, sidestepping her question. “What did you study?”
Glandera furrowed her brow. “You’d asked Levitos to fetch Terrasia’s crystals from the library for me, hadn’t you? I’ve been examining them all morning and trying to read them. Unfortunately, I didn’t get very far.”
Ferron ran his fingers through his short, dark hair. Of course she wanted to study the books hidden within the crystals. How could I have been so forgetful?
“Do you perhaps have any ideas?”
“As a crystal mage, you possess an intuitive gift. That should make it much easier for you.” After his deep concentration, he found it difficult to switch his focus so suddenly to this new topic. “Metals do have a crystalline structure, but as a metal mage, delving into gemstones isn’t really my forte.” Ferron turned his hand and magically pressed the brass handle down. The patio door swung open. Unlike in recent months, the heat no longer shimmered in the garden. “Perhaps Terrasia could have taught me too, but she held back her knowledge. Your ancestor was a Mastress of mineralogy and made the books accessible only to those worthy of them. My gut tells me that either you’re not ready yet—if you can’t read the crystal—or you’re going about it in the wrong order. You’ll have to try different approaches until you succeed.”
It was getting dark in Sicily as Arminio dried the last plate and placed it on the stack in the kitchen cupboard. Behind him, Concetto wiped the sink with a towel and hung it up. After dinner, his mother Alessandra had set off with his sisters for an evening walk on Mount Etna, and Furio was once again pottering about. As he turned around, the Capitano instinctively checked once more to make sure no one was within earshot. “Something has changed since we were last at Aset,” his words broke the silence.
No one else would have noticed that his father had tensed his shoulders. He turned to face him and lifted his chin. “That’s true.”
Arminio raised his eyebrows.
Concetto crossed his arms over his chest. “You became Capitano because of your excellent powers of observation, and we’re much too alike for me to try to fool you. So I didn’t bother trying to hide it from you.”
Something’s not right. “What’s behind this change of heart, this decision to no longer keep it from me?”
“I can’t tell you that,” his father explained, his expression unreadable.
Arminio puffed out his cheeks and replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “For years I’ve waited outside Nonna’s door until you left her prison. No one else knows where she is. And yet you don’t trust me enough to let me know what’s changed?” he snapped.
“Your mother has been in the know for a few days,” Concetto corrected him in a low voice.
Arminio’s eyes narrowed. He tilted his head and bided his time. It was the same strategy his father used during interrogations, so it was only a matter of time before one of them gave in.
Concetto’s jaw muscles tensed. “I volunteered to be the mission leader for Machu Picchu so that I’d be kept informed of Ferron’s movements.” His face took on a reddish hue, and he swallowed hard before continuing: “Aset prophesied that his next mission would be beyond his capabilities. I must prevent that.”
“Merda,” whispered Arminio, rushing over to his father. Concetto pulled him close and buried his head in the crook of his neck. Ferron was a member of the family, the brother his father had never had. Arminio couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose a friend he’d known for over two hundred years. His chest tightened, but he refused to let himself show any weakness. He felt something wet on his neck. The last time he’d seen the head of the family cry was when his sister Gioconda was born. This situation was unfamiliar to him. He gave Concetto time, and it was only when the church bells struck the hour that his father raised his head. He quickly turned his face away, took a handkerchief from his trousers and blew his nose.
“That’s why you’re always on the move. Did she explain how you can avert it?” Arminio pressed.
His father shook his head. “It’s no use. She sees which souls are going to die, but not how.”
“How frustrating.”
Concetto turned around. “At first I assumed she was trying to manipulate me. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the more I thought about it, the more I believed her.” His father looked him firmly in the eye. “I will never let a member of la famiglia run to their death. I wish I could speak to Ferron. But apart from you, there’s no one I can confide in.”
“That’s true. They’d ask you about your source,” Arminio observed.
“That’s why I’m using every means at my disposal, whilst pretending to carry on with my life as usual.”
Arminio sighed. “How can I help you with that?”
His father took a deep breath and stared at the floor. When he looked up, nothing of his helplessness remained to be seen, apart from his red eyes. “I’ll let you know when something comes up. Until then, I want you to take history lessons from Aset.”
Arminio raised his arms and spread his hands to the sides. “Don’t always treat me like a schoolboy.”
“No backtalk.” Concetto lifted his chin and stared at him until Arminio finally lowered his head. Then his father squared his shoulders, turned round and went into his study.
Arminio watched him go. That prophecy explains why Father is so worried, but not why he’s suddenly being so friendly towards Nonna. Once again, he’d skilfully steered the conversation off course. What else is he hiding from me?
