The World of Ere series

by Shirley Rousseau Murphy

Originally published as the Children of Ynell series
Five young adult fantasy novels in two volumes

Volume I: The Shattered Stone

Ebook edition, 2011; no paperback

In most regions of Ere to be a Seer, gifted with telepathic and visionary powers, means death—or does it? For some it may mean an even worse fate: destruction of their minds and enslavement by the dark powers determined to conquer the world.

Book One: The Ring of Fire

Hardcover: Atheneum, 1977; paperback: Avon, 1979

Zephy and the goatherd Thorn are dismayed to discover that they themselves are Seers. Once they know, they are driven to escape from the repressive city of their birth and rescue others, many of them children, who have been captured and imprisoned by its attackers. Only the discovery of one shard of a mysterious runestone offers hope that they can succeed.

Book Two: The Wolf Bell

Hardcover: Atheneum, 1970; paperback: Avon, 1980

In an earlier time, the child Seer Ramad seeks the runestone itself with the aid of an ancient bell that enables him to control and communicate with the thinking wolves of the mountains. The wolves become his friends--but will they be a match for his enemies, the evil Seers of Pelli, who are determined to control Ramad’s mind and through him, to obtain the stone for their own dark purpose?

Volume II: The Runestone of Eresu

Ebook edition, 2011; no paperback

Book One: The Castle of Hape

Hardcover: Atheneum, 1980; paperback: Avon, 1981

Book One: Caves of Fire and Ice

Hardcover: Atheneum, 1980; paperback: Avon, 1982

Book One: The Joining of the Stone

Hardcover: Atheneum, 1981; paperback: Avon, 1992

As a child Ramad of the Wolves had sought the potent Runestone of Eresu that could save his world from the dark, only to have it shatter at the moment it came into his hands. Now as a man, leader of his fellow Seers in their war against the dark powers, he knows it is up to him to find and rejoin the shards before evil Seers can do so. Following his true love Telien into far reaches of Time, he is followed in turn by the Seer Skeelie, who also loves him. The quest to make the stone whole again demands the commitment not only of Ramad but of others, ultimately including his son; for only far forward in Time can the final battle against the dark forces be fought.

This book will appeal to an older audience than the preceding omnibus, including readers of adult fantasy, and can be read alone..

Purchase these books

The Shattered Stone can be purchased at Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Apple Books, and Kobo.

The Runestone of Eresu can be purchased at Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Apple Books, and Kobo.

Quotes from the reviews

The Ring of Fire

"An intricate adventure story with appeal for fantasy lovers." --ALA Booklist

The Wolf Bell

“An adventurous tale full of action and suspense.” --ALA Booklist

"The enjoyable tale rises above the pack on the strength of the author's unique and compelling 'warts and all' portrayal of Tayba, a multifaceted, real, and fascinating woman." --School Library Journal

The Castle of Hape

"The many episodes involving the race of winged horses are magnificently imagined." --School Library Journal

Caves of Fire and Ice

"The fourth novel set on Ere . . . moves into the past, the present, and the future . . . a mind-boggling time equence." --The Alan Review

"Plenty of action here and a colorful, skillfully-depicted cast of characters." --School Library Journal

“The well-delineated characters add life with the same effect that detail adds to a painting.” --ALA Booklist

The Joining of the Stone

"The dramatic climax in a series of five fantasies about the inhabitants, human and otherwise, of the land of Ere. Although each book stands alone, Shirley Murphy satisfactorily draws together the strands (and her incredible images) of good and evil that have woven in and out of approximately a thousand pages of adventure." --Atlanta Journal and Constitution

"Murphy's artistic talent is evident as she paints with words a lavish tapestry of the forces of good and evil in her fantasy land of Ere, and readers can almost see the tiny winged horses that Murphy aptly describes." --Book Rags

"The portrayal of the evil forces, stark and frightening, is well balanced with Murphy’s theme about life being 'flawed [but] . . . no less magnificent.'" --ALA Booklist

Excerpt from The Ring of Fire

Anchorstar clapped a strong hand on Zephy's shoulder and stood looking into her eyes. His eyes were golden, flecked with light, and as she stared into them, Meatha and Thorn faded, the cave faded. There was brightness, a wind. She was swirling, weightless. She was lifted above the land, she was rising on the wind. . . .

She was the wind; she was looking down on Ere. She was drifting and blown at a great height above the land, could see clouds swimming below her, and beneath them the green sweeping reaches of Ere, bright green hills washed with moving shadows as the clouds passed below in a space, in a distance, that was overwhelming. The land swept below her, the dark bristling stands of woods and forests, the twisting rivers. She could see how land touched sea in a lace of white beaches and foaming surf, see Carriol's outer islands like green gems, see the Bay of Pelli curving in between two peninsulas. And in the Bay of Pelli beneath the transparent waters, the wonder of the three sunken islands and the sunken city, lying still and secret. She could see the pale expanse of high desert with the Cut running through it like a knife wound, the river deep at its bottom lined with green--a trench of lush growth slashing across the pale dry desert.

How bright the other three rivers were, too, as they meandered down through Ere's green countries from the mountains. And the mountains themselves, black and jagged and thrusting, that circle of mountains, the Ring of Fire, pushed up toward her as if she could touch the highest peaks--snow-clad, some. Then between the peaks a glimpse of a valley so beautiful she was shaken with desire for it, something . . . but it was gone at once, faded, the vision taken abruptly from her.

Something gone, something that had been hidden deep within that valley in the black stone reaches of the Ring of Fire. Something she wished with all her heart she could reach.

Then it was Thorn's eyes she looked into. She felt drained, as if this cave and all in it was an indistinct dream. As if she had been torn away from reality. Thorn waited and when she really looked at him, she saw that he, too, had seen the vision. And Meatha--she looked up to see Meatha's flushed and trembling face.

Anchorstar stood a little way from them, waiting. They went to him, stood before him. I am a child of Ynell, Zephy thought, shaken. Nothing can ever be the same, nothing. . . .

Read a longer sample from inside The Shattered Stone

Excerpt from The Wolf Bell

Ram turned then and suddenly was quite ready to mount. "They will come," he said quietly. There was a look on his face she had never seen before. He was not a child now, but something ageless. He mounted the mare slowly. Brush rattled.

"Hurry!" She had nearly lost patience with him. The mare nickered as riders came crashing through brush. Then suddenly the noise stopped, the riders were still. Ram hit the mare hard, forcing her into the river. Tayba ran alongside splashing, clinging to the mare against the swift current as the freezing water surged around her legs. The riders came crashing through bushes again. Icy water foamed around her thighs and washed the mare's belly so she balked; Tayba jerked and jerked at her. At last she went on again and soon they were in shallower water. The mare scrambled wild-eyed up the bank as Tayba clung; and the riders plunged into the river. Tayba tried desperately to see the town ahead, but now it was hidden; she could see only the plain rising above the trees, cloud shadows blowing fast across the empty land. She saw Ram stare up at the rising land, heard him draw in his breath sharply. Those were more than cloud shadows. They were running shadows: dark animals racing down across the cloud-swept plain. Dark wolves running.

Wolves, flicking from sun to shade, huge wolves sweeping down toward them, now, through the woods. The mare reared as they leaped toward her, spun away, pulling the rope in a sharp burn through Tayba's hands; Ram jumped from the saddle as the pony veered under him. "Let her go, Mamen! Let her go!" The terrified pony leaped wildly past the approaching riders and disappeared into the trees--and the wolves surged around Ram, their eyes like fire. Tayba stood backed against a boulder, could not speak for the terror that held her. Huge shaggy wolves pressed against her, tall as her waist, rank-smelling; and their yellow eyes looked at her with a knowing that shook her.

She saw Ram put out his hand to the dark wolf leader, saw the wolf come to him, saw Ram thrust his hands deep into the wolf's thick coat in greeting, then lay his face against the animal's broad head as its tongue lolled in a fierce smile--the smile of a killer; saw the riders trying to approach, fighting their panicky horses.

Ram plunged his face against the warmth of the great wolf, smelled his wild smell, and felt whole suddenly, as if a part of himself had returned. Then he lifted his head to face EnDwyl and the Seer, pulling the big wolf close as he did so. He sensed their fear with pleasure, saw the Seer's hesitancy and how the dark wolf watched the riders with lips drawn back. Ram's own lips twitched into a smile. "Fawdref," he said, caressing the wolf's ears. "You are Fawdref."

Excerpt from The Castle of Hape

The mare's wings slashed and turned the wind. Ram clung to her back with effort, his fingers twisted in her mane to keep from falling, his blood spilling down across her shoulder. She lifted higher and the wind hammered at him; her wings tore light from the sun so it fractured around him, confusing him. He was hardly aware of the land below, blurred into a tapestry of green by her speed, was unaware of the river Urobb just beneath them and of the sea ahead. The bay and islands lay sun-washed, the towering stone ruins, but he did not heed them or the newly tilled farms, the herds of fat cattle and horses, did not see the carts going along the newly made roads toward the ruins to trade, was conscious only of pain, of sickness, of the raw pain of the sword wound in his side.

The bleeding increased. He loosed one hand from the mare's mane to explore the wound, then bent again, dizzy, hugging her neck to keep from falling. Only her mane torn by wind to slash across his face jerked him from unconsciousness. He pressed his arm tight to his side to staunch the blood.

The mare's wings spanned more than twenty feet, her dark eyes swept the sky and land constantly. Her golden coat caught the high, clear brilliance of the sun, her cars sharp forward and alert. She was no tame creature to come to a man's bidding, she had leaped from the sky of her own free will to lift Ram from the midst of battle, a dozen winged horses beside her sweeping down to lift the battered warriors from a fight that had turned to slaughter, so outnumbered were they; a battle they might have won had their Seer's powers not been crippled so the attack caught them unaware, the Herebian hordes surging through dense woods a hundred strong against their puny band.

The mare lifted higher now. Light filled her wings like a golden cloak surrounding Ram, light ever moving as she soared then angled down. The fields rolled beneath him sickeningly; he went dizzy again, and she warned him awake with cool equine concern; then she dropped suddenly and sharply to meet the cold sea wind, dove through the wind in swift flight supporting Ram with the strength of her will--then folded her wings in one liquid motion and stood poised and still on the rim of a stone balcony high up the sheer side of the temple of the gods.

Ram slipped down to the stone, his mind plunging toward blackness, and felt hands catch him. He saw a flash of gold as the mare leaped aloft, then went limp.

Read a longer sample from inside The Runestone of Eresu

Excerpt from Caves of Fire and Ice

He reached to touch her sword, took it from her in a gesture innocent and bold. She, always so quick and careful, let him take it with quiet amusement. He held it close to the flame where he could make out the intricate carving of birds and leaves with which the handle was fashioned, the clean, sharp blade. Then he raised his eyes to her. "A fine sword, lady. Fine. It was made with great skill. And with love."

His words brought unexpected pain. She looked away from him, felt gone of strength, wanting to weep for no reason. Made with love. Brotherly love, maybe. No more. She straightened her shoulders and stared at him defiantly, reached out for her sword. "How would you know if it was made with love? That is skill you see. Only skill in the casting of the silver."

"All skill, lady, is a matter of love. Have you not learned that? I hope you know more about the use of the sword than you do about a man's mind."

"I know about its use. And I know more about men's minds than--" She stopped, had almost given herself away in anger. Stupid girl. Shout it out. Tell him you know all about men's minds, can see into men's minds, tell him you're a Seer! And who knows what they do to Seers in this time. Kill them? Behead them? Better collect yourself, Skeelie, find out where you are--and when--and stop acting like an injured river cat.

"Ain't never seen a lady got up so in fighting leathers."

She wanted to say, Where I come from it's common enough. She wanted to say, What year is this that women don't fight beside their men? But even in her own time, the women of the coastal countries had not fought so. Only the women of Carriol. She cast about for some question she might use to find her way here and realized how little she had prepared herself. So engrossed with getting into Time, she had given little thought to coping once there, or to an explanation for stepping out of nowhere. What plausible excuse did she have for traveling in these mountains when she did not know the customs, or where she was? Eresu knew, she was glad it was night. In the daytime she would have had some hard explaining to do, had he seen her appear suddenly from thin air.

Excerpt from The Joining of the Stone

The sun rose higher, and the gray clouds began to brighten with streaks of reflected light. Then, a sense of flight began to touch her, a sense of freedom, of wild soaring, of wind brushing and twisting past so her heart quickened crazily. She searched the clouds for movement. Below her on the green, folk were all doing the same, staring upward, every Seer sensing flight, every common man taking cue from the Seers, though the winged ones were still invisible in the western sky.

At last she saw tiny specks moving through cloud. She felt their flight, bold and wild and free, as yet unburdened by riders. Her lips moved in silent whisper, she pushed back her dark hair in an impatient gesture, her blood racing at the exhilaration of flight and at the feel of the winged ones' power, at the feel of the wind around them. She thought suddenly of herself as a child again, staring up at the empty sky waiting eagerly and usually futilely for the winged horses of Eresu to appear among cloud. A guilt-ridden child, afraid she would be discovered looking up at the sky. For in Burgdeeth, dreaming of the winged ones had been forbidden. Speaking with them in silence, as she had longed to do, had been punishable by death.

Suddenly the band of flying horses burst out from the cloud, sun slashing across their sweeping wings. They came on fast, soon nearly covered the sky, were dropping down over the pastures in a mass of movement, their silent greetings caressing her. They banked, turned, filled the sky utterly, then plummeted down toward the stable yard and toward the crowded green, a dozen winged ones breaking their flight to land soundlessly and gently among the onlookers, their wings hiding the crowd for a moment in a mass of light-washed movement, amber wings and saffron and gold, snow-pale wings and black. Then they folded their wings across their backs and stood quietly greeting their friends, nuzzling, speaking with voices that came in the Seers' minds in gentle whispers.

Short Fiction: "The Mooncup"

Published in the anthology Anywhere, Anywhen: Stories of Tomorrow,
edited by Sylvia Engdahl
Hardcover: Atheneum, 1976; Expanded ebook edition, 2011

Is Ere a fantasy world or a hypothetical world in space? In this story it's viewed as a planet, which in no way changes its character. Keb, a young Seer forced by a brutal stepfather to misuse his powers, finds that he has much in common with Pama, who has fled from a distant world where she too would be compelled to use her inborn talent in the service of evil.

"Certainly one of the better stories in the collection, ‘The Mooncup’ by Shirley Rousseau Murphy, describes the meeting of two young people from different planets and cultures who are both gifted with the power of thought transmission." --The World of Children’s Books, University of Alberta

Excerpt from "The Mooncup"

Keb turned to stare into the depths of the river and could see the clouds reflected and colors like sapphire and amethyst where dead grass had fallen and washed deep against the rocks; when a dark shape moved there, he thought it a fish and held still. But it passed across the rocks, a shadow with no source. It was no fish; it was a shape reflected from the clouds, was utterly unfamiliar. He rose and stood staring upward, expecting to see the gods, their wings outspread, yet knowing in his inner being that this was no god.

A strange shape he could not understand was there in the clouds. Where had it come from? Only a moment before he had been staring at the sky. There were cloud banks where it might have hidden; he saw it catch the light of the sun in an orange flash, then begin to move downward toward the dunes that lay on the table land high above him. The sky began to brighten as if the light of the sun had increased, though that was impossible. The light flared up, and he stood perplexed and excited as the brightness blazed around the object and slashed across the sea too fast for any natural thing, turning the dunes white.

The thing within the light was like a star but bigger, growing quickly. The light shone into the Cut and touched him; he stood transfixed with it. The silver- white object poised in its own radiance over the desert that lay atop the cliff: light so bright he could hardly look, light that was all around him, and in its vortex the silver something glowed and whirled so that his breath caught hot in his chest. This was not a god, this was a thing of metal as smooth and polished as a silver ingot from the smelter. And yet it came from the sky. The feel of wonder that it gave Keb swept him in a shudder of passion as he stood in the delta staring upward.