Song of a Dead Star by Zamil Akhtar

This is another review I am conducting for Enchanted Book Promotions so before I share my thoughts on this book I would like to let you know I was sent a copy for free in exchange for the review I am conducting.

This is not the type of book I usually read but David enjoys these types of books. So once I applied to review it I gave it to David to read. But since he has trouble reading we sat down at night and read it together.

Once we finished it I asked David what he thought of it and he says he enjoyed the plots and the characters inside the books. He says it reminds him of some of his favorite books he read as a child.

I liked it as I saw how much David enjoyed it. I also like the characters in the book. Plus the plot keeps you on the edge of your seat. It is a book that you would read again and again. I will look for more of Zamil Akhtar's books to give to David as a gift as I know he will enjoy them.

So if you have not head Song of A Dead Star I hope you take the time to as I am sure you will enjoy it just as much as David did.




Just saw this on Amazon: Song of a Dead Star by Zamil Akhtar for $2.99               http://amzn.to/1TMNhvn via @amazon

Title: Song of a Dead Star

Author: Zamil Akhtar

Genre: Science-Fiction / Fantasy

When Kav sleeps, a firefly whispers in his ear that his wife is not

dead. But to find her he has to kill the three Magi that protect

the land of Eden.

The same Magi destroyed Kav’s hometown four years ago to

crush a rebellion, and he hasn’t seen his wife since.

As Kav plots to kill the Magi, a flying armada bent on conquest

and destruction invades Eden. Only the Magi and their ability to

turn sunshine into magical energy can stop them.

Granted the same power by the firefly, Kav must either kill the Magi to reunite with his wife, or let go of

his longing for the sake of Eden and its people.

Zamil Akhtar is an indie science fantasy author and blogger living a location-free lifestyle. He can be

found in Boston, Dubai, or Manila depending on the time of year. Of Pakistani-heritage, he grew up in

the Middle East and moved to Western Massachusetts when he was thirteen, and his varied upbringing

colors his fiction. He has a BBA in Marketing from the University of Massachusetts and an MA in

International Relations from Johns Hopkins University. His loves are videogames, science-fiction and

fantasy novels, HBO dramas, and Southeast Asia.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Zamil-Akhtar/166211690075437?ref=hl

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/533050

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Song-Dead-Star-Zamil-

Akhtar/dp/151155097X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1431456423&sr=8-

Kav stared at the fireflies whirling around the otherworldly tree. Their light strengthened as they

whirled, more luminous than the sun. Fixated by their motion, Kav began to wonder.

The grass was muddy and soft. The dew was cool, wetting his lips and eyelids. The breeze seemed to be

Then the otherworldly tree groaned and opened its mouth. The garden shook with fury, the tree parted,

It was dark inside the tree, until a firefly fluttered next to him. Kav followed its light as it zigged and

zagged its way through the tree’s innards, toward its swarm, where hundreds of fireflies lit the end of a

hallway. They glowed around a throne made of shadows, upon which someone was sitting. From the

shadows grew snakes, and they slithered across the one on the throne, holding him in place. No, it was a

she. Her pale skin sank beneath the snakes, strangled by their coils. Her blue hair was slowly devoured.

Kav pulled at a snake, but their mouths were inside her flesh. He feared he would hurt her by yanking

More snakes bit her. There was hardly a spot on her that wasn’t bloody. Then a message appeared in

Who sent it? There was no frequency, but he could still respond.

And hundreds of snakes grew out of the throne and bit Layla, until she was entirely eaten. Another

Soon, I will come to you with an offer. Accept it if you wish to save the one person who ever mattered to

Shar didn’t really miss prison. Four years ago, the day the Continentals came for him, he was resigned to

what had to be. Locked in chains, aperture clamped, they tossed him into the brig of a levship. One

His cell there was dirt and puddles of mud, enclosed by rusted iron bars. He wasn’t afraid of the time,

nor the execution date. He sat in his cell, made a pillow of mud, and stared at nothing.

Drip. Drip. A leak in the ceiling swelled the puddle. It expanded its territory in this tiny barred world.

His neighbors, surely, weren’t so positive. Eyes were downcast, expressions limp, gazes lost. Despair

welled through the air like a collective current.

The baby one cell over cried. Its mother, an Almarian girl, “shhd” it to stop. But it wailed and wailed.

“Aaaash ghhh tammm.” She began to sing a Kalamic lullaby. “Aaaash ghhh tamm.” Whatever it meant.

Shar closed his eyes. Sleep knocked on his skull. Out — his soul flew somewhere. Images of that place

whirled onto his vision. He was back in that Keldanese city, but nothing was there. Entirely flat, it was

just a slab of concrete — the whole island. Wiped clean by the Magi.

When Shar woke, he was hungry. Not for food or water. This was a hunger for what sustained his sanity.

Empty, his stomach curled in. He breathed in and out to regain himself, but the pain became worse.

It felt like something inside his brain wanted to come out. Like a monster imprisoned in his skull was

Shar wailed, then screamed. And wailed some more. With blurred vision, he saw a man at the door of

The man had a gut that stuck out of his buckled trousers like a ball. He wore a piss yellow Almarian

constable uniform. The Emblem of Two Rivers shone over his bulging left breast.

Shar grabbed one of the bars and pulled himself onto his knees. “Get me something. I’ll make it worth

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get a stick to beat your ass with.”

“Listen, I can pay you. I’ve got a man on the outside with the stuff already.” Colonel Aasad had set it up

— the least the man could do. “In Qindsmar. You go get it for me, and he’ll pay you, equal to what you

The guard banged Shar’s hand, sent him thudding back. “Shut the hell up. I’m a man of honest labor.”

“Do it, you know you want to. My guy’s a pharmacist, works in one of the hospitals. Okay?”

 “No, not okay. Shut your mouth and do your time.”

Shar spent the next few hours in pain. He listened to the baby wail and its mother struggle to shut it up.

Later, the guard came back. He bent down, brought his face close to the bars. “Okay, where do I meet

Shar gave him the info, and the guard left.

A UHR of hell ensued. Writhing in pain, Shar listened to that baby go on and on. Shouting at it made it

louder. So he splashed his face in the mud puddle.

Somehow he managed a few drops of sleep.

The next day, the fat guard returned. He threw a tiny vial through the bars. Shar grabbed it, opened the

He wanted it inside him, all of it. He inhaled, until the monster in his skull calmed, the blur in his vision

lessened, and he could grip his world again.

“That’s all you’re getting,” the guard said, “once a week.”

“Once a week? Listen, he must’ve given you more than this!”

The guard walked away. Shar sniffed and sniffed. Control yourself. He needed to savor this morsel for

“You’re worse than my baby here, without your drug.” It was the girl in the next cell. The baby slept in

her arms. The tree oil’s life giving scent staved off the smell from that child. No change of diapers in

“You’re smiling like it’s your birthday. Is that little vial really bringing you so much happiness?”

Shar hadn’t realized. “Why not? It’s all I got now.”

Guards brought food. They pushed a bowl of water through the bars and tossed a piece of bread on the

Shar chugged the water. He chomped the bread, a brittle and harsh crust, as his stomach unknotted.

For the girl and baby, only one piece of bread and one bowl of water were given up by the guards.

“Please, give us a little more, for the child!”

The guard laughed. “The little shit isn’t gonna survive anyway.”

Shar watched as the girl tore off little pieces of crust, until they were tiny grains. One by one, she

dropped those grains in the baby’s mouth. In that way, all the bread finished. With the baby on her lap,

she poured the water down its throat, then kissed it on the cheek. Saved nothing for herself.

The boy grabbed onto an old cedar, and as he pulled onto a branch, shedding leaves whirled around

“You damn fish! We’re gonna bleed you!” His three pursuers were yards away. “And paint this forest

The branches of the tree stretched to the sky. The boy climbed, panting.

“Your kind ain’t worth the shit on our soles!” one of his pursuers shouted. “The higher you climb,

The boy climbed higher. His pursuers appeared below.

“There he is.” One of them pointed at the old cedar. He had a puffy-blister on his lip, courtesy the

boy’s elbow. “Listen Kav, how about you spare us the drama and come down?”

Kav grinned. “You come up. Plenty of room for a party.”

“You wanna play it like that? We’re giving you the choice of walking away, and you’re choosing to

have your ass beat up on some tree?” The one with the puffy lip approached.

So Kav broke off a branch as big as a sword. “Since it’s my party, I’ll dish out the beatings.”

 “Hey, let’s talk this out,” said one of the wiser boys. He removed his glasses and put them in his

pocket. “Listen Kav, here’s our offer. You purposely lose the next match, and we leave you well

alone. Remember who owns this place and who owns your people. No use fighting us, so you best

While the boy ran his mouth, Kav climbed onto an even higher branch. He put his arm behind his

head and sat against the bark like nothing mattered. “I got a question. Is your man Tusir really

gonna feel satisfied winning without a fair fight against us islanders? What does that say about you

Shirmians? Can’t beat an islander fair? Truth be told, winning the tournament don’t matter to me,

but I have principles. The travesty of a fixed fight doesn’t sit right.”

“Travesty? Wanna know what’s a real travesty?” This guy, clearly the idiot of the trio, sounded like a

fresh arrival from some hill village. “How the hell do I get assigned to infantry when a fish from

some shit island gets to be a pilot? I’m gonna die in that infantry group while you’re flying high,

“You die,” Kav said, “and I’ll say a little prayer for your soul while I’m in the sky.”

The boy with the puffy blister on his lip took out something from his sash. The shameless ass. He

held a six- inch blade — standard close-quarters weapon. It goes against the rules to use one in a

mock battle. “Yeah, you know what comes next. I’ll cut the log down easy with this. Then you’re

gonna fall back to earth for your beating.”

The puffy-lipped boy charged the blade with heat. A blue flame immersed the blade.

Then the puffy-lipped boy flung the flame from his blade onto the bark. The tree caught fire.

“Come on down,” he said, “or you gonna burn.”

Kav jumped and landed on his sore feet.

They seized him. The idiot grabbed Kav’s left arm, the wise one his right. The puffy-lipped one

punched him in the jaw. A tooth tore out; blood surged from his gums. Kav wrestled his arms free,

but not before the wise one kneed him in the gut.

The idiot picked up a rock. “Poor fishy. You gonna love this next part!” And he bashed Kav’s

Glenda, Charlie and David Cates