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Harry Turtledove's rousing saga of a fantastic world at war, which began in Into the Darkness and continued through Darkness Descending, Through the Darkness, Rulers of the Darkness, and Jaws of Darkness, draws to its climactic conclusion in Out of the Darkness.
As the Derlavaian War rages into its last and greatest battles, allied nations maneuver for positions against each other in a postwar world. But before that time can come, the forces of Algarve, Unkerlant, and their allies must clash a final time, countering army with army and battle magic with ever-more-powerful battle magic. In the midst of it all, the people the war has battered and reshaped must struggle to face their greatest individual challenges, as loves are shattered and found, terrible crimes avenged . . . and some journeys end forever.
And the end of the war may not bring peace. . . .
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Harry Turtledove is the Hugo-winning author of many SF and fantasy novels. His alternate-history novels, include the bestselling The Guns of the South, How Few Remain, the Worldwar series, and the recent Ruled Britannia. He lives with his wife and daughters in Los Angeles.
THE FOG OF WAR
"Up!" a sergeant screamed. Rock-gray dragons swooped low overhead, eggs slung under their bellies. The eggs burst in front of and inside Gromheort. Ealstan didn't know what to think about that. It made him more likely to live and his kinsfolk more likely to die. He wanted to give up thinking altogether.
"Behemoths!" That shout came in Unkerlanter. The word was nothing like its Forthwegian equivalent, which had been borrowed from Algarvian. Ealstan had had to learn it in a hurry. It meant either Help is coming or We're in trouble, depending on who owned the behemoths being shouted about.
These behemoths had Algarvians aboard them. They were sallying from Gromheort, doing their best to hold the Unkerlanters away from the town. Officers or no officers, sergeants or no sergeants, Ealstan threw himself down on the muddy ground. He'd seen behemoths in the desperate fighting in and around Eoforwic, and had a heart respect for what they could do. Most of the Unkerlanters close by him dove for cover, too. Anyone who'd had more than the tiniest taste of war knew better than to stay on his feet when enemy behemoths were in the neighborhood.
Somewhere not far away, a crystallomancer shouted into his glassy sphere...
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