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Age Appropriate For: 15 and up for spiritual warfare, violence, and magic (used by those controlled by Satan)
Best for Ages: 18 and up
Description:   An epic quest across the sands of Arabia
In the exotic lands of the east, a secret sect of Persian magicians study the night sky for generations.
When the stars announce a strange royal birth, Misha, a first-level mage, is ready to prove himself by chasing down this new world leader.
But then an ancient document surfaces, whispering of an artifact of immense power. The temptation to seize power is too great to resist.
And Misha is not alone in his quest. The king’s general Reza seeks power to fulfill his mysterious destiny, and both he and Misha have their eye set on the Egyptian princess Kamillah, who will do anything to gain the artifact that could break her bondage to the sorcerer Zahir.
The soldier, the mage and the princess each has a secret to protect.
But if they are going to survive the dark forces warring for their prize, they must learn to trust each other—in what will surely be the journey of a lifetime.

Several years ago, someone told me about an author who was giving away some of her paperbacks to bloggers just by asking. I jumped at the change. Little did I know I would be finding one of my favorite authors of all time.

Some people won’t like this series because there is a lot about spiritual warfare, even physical manifestations of that warfare. There are even some people able to cast spells. However, I have to say that I honestly believe that such things exist. I also love how God is always more powerful than the darkness.

This book was part treasure hunt story, part spiritual warfare, and part biblical fiction. All of it was powerful and gripping.

Well researched, grounded firmly in the scriptures, this story gripped my attention from the first page and didn’t let go until I read the last one. I had a book hangover, it was so good and so powerful. I felt like I had journeyed along with these men and women. I felt like I had been changed by the events they witnessed.

My only complete was that toward the end of the third book, Higley diverged some from the scriptural account and had the magi warned Joseph to flee to Egypt.

I highly recommend this book for those who are interested in the story of the magi, those who like books that deal with spiritual warfare, and gripping biblical fiction tales.

Darkness cloaked Boston as surely as fear gripped my heart. My lungs burned as the cold, salty air filled them, but I could not stop. I did not know how much time I had, but I knew it was limited. I ignored the clanging of bells. As an able-bodied man, I should have rushed to see what was wrong, but tonight was not like most nights. Tonight, my only thought was to get to Doctor Warren’s house, quickly.
I was out of breath when I finally reached the doctor’s house on Hanover Street. I pounded at the door, letting my fear release itself on the rough wood. “Dr. Warren!” I pounded. “Joseph!” I called for the man who was our family physician as well as my friend. I continued to pound until the door swung inward, nearly sending me toppling.
“William, what is it?” Joseph Warren took a step forward, his concern evident in his tone.
“It is my mother and my sister-in-law. I think…” I swallowed my fears. I did not dare speak the words. Mother was the only one who understood me. Father wanted me to be just like him, but Mother had loved me for who I was. The thought of losing her was too devastating to say aloud.
“I am coming.” Joseph’s words were as comforting as his calm presence. He disappeared and came back with his coat and bag. Closing the door, he started down the street, not slowing his pace as he wiggled into his coat. He would need many layers to ward off the chill in the night air.
“Mother cannot stop coughing,” I choked, wishing the bells would stop clanging. They seemed like the echo to the fear in my own heart. The look on my mother’s face as she struggled to breathe had terrified me. My brother’s wife, Tabitha, did not look much better.
Joseph placed his hand on my arm as we hurried down the street, his warmth seeping through my sleeve. “It will be all right.”
I concentrated on picking up my pace, and did not bother to reply. I knew that Joseph meant well, but he had not seen my mother. He had not seen her pale face and blue lips. He had not heard the constant hacking in our home as my mother and Tabitha fought against this illness.
Musket fire grabbed our attention. Screams and terrified shouting greeted our ears while the bells continued to clang.
“What is happening?” I asked.
Joseph shook his head. “I do not know. Nothing good, to be sure. Come, we must make haste to your mother.” His feet continued toward my home, but his eyes searched the direction of the musket fire. The moment we reached my door, he turned his full attention toward the house.
I knew something was horribly wrong the moment we entered. I could tell that the atmosphere of the house had changed since I had left to fetch Joseph. I heard someone crying. Was it by father or brother? I could not tell.
“Mother?” I breathed.
Without waiting for an invitation Joseph bounded up the stairs to the living quarters. He visited often and knew the way.
My father met me at the top of the stairs. “Tabitha is dead.” His voice was gruff.
My heart stopped. “Mother?”
My father shook his head gravely. “She is not well. I think she will join Tabitha soon.”
I pushed past him and entered my mother’s room. Warren bent over her, his face grave. Mother looked even worse than when I had left her to get Joseph. She lay under the sheets; each breath an agonizing struggle.
“Mama! Mama!” My niece cried from in the hallway.
I looked from my mother to the door.
“Go see to your niece.” This was a gentle command from Joseph.
I reluctantly did as he asked. I went into the hallway and found my niece beating her tiny fists on the door to her mother’s room. “Mama! Mama!”
“Katherine?” I spoke my niece’s name softly.
“Uncle William?” She looked up at me with wide eyes, and then she threw herself at me.
I knelt down and pulled the girl, only four years old, into my arms. “It will be all right, Katherine.”
“Mama’s gone,” she sobbed.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back my own grief. “I know, Sweetheart. I know.”