Praise for Shield of Sparrows “Shield of Sparrows is a delight of immersive worldbuilding, characters who spoke to my heart, and an intense slow-burn romance that held me captive. I'm incredibly excited to read the next book in the series!” —Nalini Singh, New York Times bestselling author of the Psy-Changeling and Guild Hunter series, for Shield of Sparrows “Vibrant and visceral, this world of Perry's is absolutely fantastic! Tickles all the romantasy sweet spots for me!” —RuNyx, New York Times bestselling author of Gothikana, for Shield of Sparrows “A riveting world, a twisty plot, and a smoldering romance. I burned through this epic romantasy.” —USA Today and international bestselling author K.A. Tucker, for Shield of Sparrows “Shield of Sparrows is the best fantasy romance I’ve read in years and my top read of 2025. This story is unlike anything I’ve read before with lush, unique world building, thrilling adventures and an epic love story.” —USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Giana Darling, for Shield of Sparrows “This book is everything! The world building and main characters were so refreshing and empowering, and that simmering slow burn was so worth the wait. Devney absolutely slayed it with this romantasy, and I can’t wait to read book two!” —New York Times bestselling author Shanora Williams, for Shield of Sparrows “Devney Perry writes romantasy like she’s been doing it her whole career, filling the pages with vivid world building, unique storylines, and delicious tension. This book is all-consuming and nothing short of binge worthy!” — USA Today bestselling author CE Ricci, for Shield of Sparrows OceanofPDF.com
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Copyright © 2026 by Devney Perry LLC. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher. Entangled Publishing believes stories have the power to inspire, connect, and create lasting change. That’s why we protect the rights of our authors and the integrity of their work. Copyright exists not to limit creativity, but to make it possible—to ensure writers can keep telling bold, original stories in their own voices. Thank you for choosing a legitimate copy of this book. By not copying, scanning, or distributing it without permission, you help authors continue to write and reach readers. This book may not be used to train artificial intelligence systems, including large language models or other machine learning tools, whether existing or still to come. These stories were written for human connection, not machine consumption. Entangled Publishing, LLC 644 Shrewsbury Commons Ave., STE 181 Shrewsbury, PA 17361 rights@entangledpublishing.com Red Tower Books is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com. Edited by Liz Pelletier Cover design by LJ Anderson Edge design by Bree Archer Case design by Elizabeth Turner Stokes Case images by yukitama/Shutterstock Endpaper original illustration by Juho Choi Map design by Elizabeth Turner Stokes Interior map frame images by MassyCG/Shutterstock and DestinaDesign/Shutterstock Jacket design by Liz Wayant Interior design by Britt Marczak Hardcover ISBN 978-1-68281-675-2 Ebook ISBN 978-1-64937-809-5 Printed in the United States of America First Edition April 2026 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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MORE FROM DEVNEY PERRY SHIELD OF SPARROWS SERIES Shield of Sparrows Rites of the Starling THE EDENS SERIES Indigo Ridge Juniper Hill Garnet Flats Jasper Vale Crimson River Sable Peak TREASURE STATE WILDCATS SERIES Coach Blitz Rally Merit CLIFTON FORGE SERIES Steel King Riven Knight Stone Princess Noble Prince Fallen Jester Tin Queen CALAMITY MONTANA SERIES The Bribe The Bluff The Brazen The Bully The Brawl The Brood
JAMISON VALLEY SERIES The Coppersmith Farmhouse The Clover Chapel The Lucky Heart The Outpost The Bitterroot Inn The Candle Palace LOST LEGENDS SERIES Bluebird Gold HAVEN RIVER RANCH SERIES Crossroads Sunlight MAYSEN JAR SERIES The Birthday List Letters to Molly The Dandelion Diary LARK COVE SERIES Tattered Timid Tragic Tinsel Timeless RUNAWAY SERIES Runaway Road Wild Highway Quarter Miles Forsaken Trail Dotted Lines STANDALONES Clarence Manor
Rifts and Refrains A Little Too Wild OceanofPDF.com
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Contents Author’s Note Content Warning Prologue PART I: DIVISION One: Ransom Two: Odessa Three: Caspia Four: Odessa Five: Caspia Six: Odessa Seven: Caspia Eight: Odessa Nine: Caspia Ten: Odessa Eleven: Caspia Twelve: Odessa Thirteen: Caspia Fourteen: Odessa Fifteen: Caspia Sixteen: Odessa Seventeen: Caspia Eighteen: Odessa Nineteen: Caspia
Twenty: Odessa Twenty-One: Caspia Twenty-Two: Odessa Twenty-Three: Caspia Twenty-Four: Caspia Twenty-Five: Odessa Twenty-Six: Odessa Twenty-Seven: Caspia PART II: DISCOVERY Twenty-Eight: Odessa Twenty-Nine: Caspia Thirty: Odessa Thirty-One: Caspia Thirty-Two: Odessa Thirty-Three: Caspia Thirty-Four: Odessa Thirty-Five: Caspia Thirty-Six: Odessa Thirty-Seven: Caspia Thirty-Eight: Caspia PART III: DYNASTY Thirty-Nine: Odessa Forty: Caspia Forty-One: Odessa Forty-Two: Caspia Forty-Three: Odessa
Forty-Four: Caspia Forty-Five: Odessa Forty-Six: Caspia Forty-Seven: Odessa Forty-Eight: Caspia Forty-Nine: Odessa Fifty: Caspia Fifty-One: Odessa Fifty-Two: Caspia Fifty-Three: Caspia Fifty-Four: Odessa Fifty-Five: Caspia Fifty-Six: Odessa Fifty-Seven: Caspia Fifty-Eight: Odessa Fifty-Nine: Caspia Sixty: Caspia Sixty-One: Andreas Sixty-Two: Odessa Sixty-Three: Odessa Sixty-Four: Odessa Author’s Note Acknowledgments About the Author One Mission. One Curse. No Escape. Connect with us Online OceanofPDF.com
Author’s Note Dear Reader, Writing in the romantasy genre has been a dream of mine for years, and the love for Shield of Sparrows continues to fill my heart each and every day. Thank you for going on this adventure with me. From the very beginning of Odessa’s story, I had an idea of where I wanted to take this second book. It’s one of those ideas that has been in the back of my mind for a long, long time, just waiting to be told. You’re going to meet some new characters in this book. I hope they steal your heart the way they’ve stolen mine. And I hope that a few of the twists and turns in this story are as unexpected for you as they were for me. The unexpected journeys are usually those I love most. Again, thank you for reading. I am beyond grateful for your trust in telling this tale. Now I invite you to turn the page and return to Calandra for Rites of the Starling. Devney OceanofPDF.com
Rites of the Starling is an epic romantasy set in a world of monsters and mysteries. As such, the story includes elements that might not be suitable for all readers, including combat, violence, blood, gore, death of humans and animals, injury, dismemberment, illness, hospitalization, arson, alcohol use, poisoning, trafficking, threat and mention of rape, graphic language, and sexual activity. Readers who may be sensitive to these elements, please take note. OceanofPDF.com
S Prologue parrow Wolfe’s fate rested in the hands of five men. The five kings of Calandra. They stood around an oval table, their focus on the treaty splayed across the grooved wooden surface. The ink on the parchment was still wet. The cleric who’d penned the document hurried to collect his belongings, then scurried out of the room now that his task was complete. The underground cellar was cloaked in shadow. The scents of dank rock and acrid smoke filled the air. One of the lamps was sputtering out, the oil in its reservoir nearly gone after hours and hours of negotiations. Sparrow stood against the stone wall as a silent observer of the discussion. A fire crackled in the hearth, but its heat could not chase away the cold that had crept into her bones. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. A numbness was taking hold of her body, creeping into her fingertips and toes. With the Goddess Daria’s luck, that numbness would soon dull the ache in her heart. Not one of the five kings paid her any attention, not even her father. They were too busy debating who she would marry. The Voster High Priest hovered behind the men. His bare feet hadn’t touched the floor since he floated into the cellar. The dim light leached any hint of color from his pale white skin. His eyes, those solid, dark pools, stayed locked on the treaty. The moment the kings came to an agreement, he’d seal their oaths in blood. The priest’s hands were clasped in front of him, and the thick, dark- green nails protruding from his fingers were so long they curled into his robes, the burgundy fabric as dark as the storm cloud over her heart. The kings were dressed in bold fabrics, reds and greens and blues and teals, each proudly representing their respective kingdoms in color and the emblems stitched into their clothes. Sparrow was dressed in gray, a shade as empty as she was of hope. This treaty was a necessity. She’d told herself that countless times. It would end the wars that had plagued their continent for generations. It
would bind the five kingdoms of Calandra together forever. Either they would find a way to live together. Or they’d die trying. The logical princess her father had raised, the fledgling politician, knew this was essential for survival. But the young woman with dreams of finding love had begun to wither the moment marriage stipulations had entered the conversation. There was a reason Sparrow was in this cellar, something she hadn’t realized until it was too late. She was not here as her father’s heir. She was not here to observe and learn. She was a token to be traded in the name of peace. These kings of men were worried that exchanging goods alone was not enough to maintain the accords. What better way to tie kingdoms together than to bind them by blood? By future generations. By the children she would someday bear. Children tied to two kingdoms. A silence settled around the table, making the hairs on the back of Sparrow’s neck stand on end. She stood taller as the kings nodded. “Do we have agreement?” the High Priest asked, his voice as silky as her chestnut hair. Every king, including her father, murmured, “Yes.” The moment this treaty was signed, each king and their future heirs would be expected to maintain its stipulations. To break their oaths would mean death. It went against her nature as a Turan to give up her free will. Her father likely felt the same. Yet Turah had no choice but to participate. Their kingdom was strong but not strong enough to stand against the rest of Calandra. Especially while they were trying to recover from the crux migration. Her father couldn’t stop this treaty, but that fact didn’t make her fate any easier to accept. One by one, each king drew a dagger or knife from a sheath. They sliced open their palms, dipped their quills, and scrawled their names in blood. Her father went last. With his pen poised over the treaty, its tip glistening in red, he cast her a long look. The pity and apology in his steely gray eyes made it hard for her to breathe. The green starbursts in his irises flared for a brief moment before he dropped his gaze to the parchment. The
harsh scratch that came with his signature was quick, like an arrow through her heart. Sparrow dropped her chin so the kings would not see the tears in her eyes. Done. It was done. Calandra was in ruins from the crux migration. Now the kingdoms would rebuild together. Trade together. Live together. Breed together. Tonight, Sparrow had become a brood mare like her favorite horse, Helena. Would she ever see Helena again? Would she ever return to Turah? Or would she be taken directly from this miserable cellar in Ozarth to a city in Genesis, where she’d be paraded as their new queen? Would the people of Genesis hate her the way their king, Tanis Oak, hated her father? The idea of spending the rest of her life tied to a man who loathed her family, her people, made her stomach drop. Would Tanis take his anger out on her? Would she be made to suffer for a rivalry that went back far beyond her years? The treaty forbade him from killing her, but there were fates worse than death. Tanis, at least ten years her senior, was the only unwed king in this room. And she was the only princess in Calandra of age to bear children. Maybe after she birthed him a son he’d forget about her. If the gods were merciful, she’d be left alone. Sparrow squeezed her eyes shut as dread and sorrow threatened more tears. No doubt Tanis would not take kindly to a simpering wife. And she was a Turan. She would not cry. The gods were to blame for this. Bastards. The Six had cursed Calandra with their monsters. With the crux. She’d survived this past migration only to trade one nightmare for another. The gods could rot in their shades. And so could the Voster, with their oaths and magic used to manipulate men. With her teeth gritted so hard they cracked, she steeled her spine and lifted her chin. The High Priest’s gaze was waiting.
She loathed him more than anyone else in this room. He would trap her in this treaty without remorse. She could taste the hate for his magic on her tongue, like the coppery tang of blood. With a slight incline of his head, he summoned her to the table. “Your name?” “Sparrow Wolfe.” Her voice was steady and calm, not betraying her racing heart. He stared at her for a long moment. “This treaty shall be known as the Shield of Sparrows.” Another princess might have appreciated having a treaty named in her honor. Sparrow swallowed a scream. “Do you, Sparrow Wolfe, princess of Turah, vow to uphold the Shield of Sparrows with your union to Tanis Oak, king of Genesis?” the High Priest asked. Every king in the room seemed to hold their breath, waiting for her reply. Tears filled her father’s eyes as he gave her a nod. “I, Sparrow Wolfe, make this vow,” she whispered. Without meeting her gaze, her father passed her his knife. She opened a palm, refusing to wince as the blade cut through her flesh. Signing her name in blood was done with a quick flick of her wrist. Then Tanis’s name was beside hers, his own vow spoken aloud. His voice was smooth and deep. Emotionless and cold. A shiver raced down Sparrow’s spine. The High Priest placed both of his hands on the treaty, closing his eyes. There was no sensation. No visible hint of his fluid magic. But when he opened his eyes and lifted his hands, there was no doubt in her mind that she was now bound to this treaty. The Shield of Sparrows. “It is done.” The High Priest’s declaration stole the air from her lungs. Tanis marched out of the cellar. The other kings swept out after him, climbing the stairs that would take them away from this secret chamber beneath Ozarth’s capital city. The High Priest pressed both of his hands over his heart and gave her a slight bow. She bit her tongue to keep quiet.
Then he rolled up the treaty into a neat column. The ink, her blood, had barely dried as he left. Her father deflated once they were alone. A breath rushed from his lungs as his shoulders curled inward, his broad, towering frame shrinking before her eyes. It cleaved her spirit in two. None of this would have happened if there were no crux. If there were no more migrations. “Why have the Six cursed us with these monsters? Why do they hate us?” “Because they are petty gods,” he said. “Because only humans have the power to make the gods insignificant.” Sparrow stared at her father, taking in his strong profile. “I will never worship them again. And I will never trust the Voster.” “Neither will I.” He gave her a sad smile, opening his arms. “I am sorry, my daughter.” She collapsed into his chest, into the strong embrace that had held her since she was a baby. “What do I do?” He kissed her hair. “Be bold, my Sparrow. Be brave.” OceanofPDF.com
PART I DIVISION OceanofPDF.com
T One RANSOM reow was a tomb. The commons were deserted. No guards were posted in the watchtowers. A breath of wind caught the rungs of a rope ladder, swaying it back and forth with a creak. The treehouse above was as empty as the rest of the encampment. Where was Odessa? She should be here. The panic coursing through my veins was making me dizzy. I lifted my fingers to my lips and whistled. The shrill call ricocheted off trees before it was swallowed by the forest. And as it faded, there was nothing but silence. A chill skated down my spine. Something was wrong. She might have gotten lost in the dark after leaving Ellder, but she would have found her way at daybreak. The thunder of hooves echoed from afar. I held my breath, hoping it was Odessa and Evie, except the rider sat alone and her hair was stark, sleek white, not wild red curls. Cathlin slowed her dappled mare to a stop and swung to the ground. She tied the horse to the same tree trunk where I’d tethered Aurinda. My stallion’s black coat was still damp with sweat from the punishing ride from the fortress to the encampment. “You should have stayed in Ellder,” I told Cathlin. She stood at my side, a tendril of her white hair lifting in the breeze. “You were angry. I was worried that…” “That I’d harm my own wife?” My nostrils flared. Yes, I was angry. Scared. Frantic. Confused. But I’d sooner drive a knife through my own heart than hurt Odessa. “No.” She pressed both hands to her flushed cheeks. “I was just worried. I don’t know what to think, Ransom.”
“Neither do I.” The image of the crux, a woman, was burned into my mind. How was it possible? What kind of magic was this? Or was my mind playing a trick on me? I’d walked out of the fortress certain I was trapped in a nightmare. Even after I found Aurinda and saddled him for the ride to Treow, it had felt like moving in a fog. Going through the motions until I woke from the dream. “Her hair,” Cathlin whispered. The crux had shifted from beast to beauty. To a woman who shared enough features with Odessa, from her hair to her nose to her delicate chin, that I couldn’t unsee the resemblance. And her blood… “Do you think Odessa knows?” “No.” I refused to believe she’d keep that kind of a secret from me. Reaching into my vest, I pulled out a lock of the shapeshifter’s shorn hair. I twisted the silky curl around my finger, letting the orange and strawberry and copper colors catch the light. Then I released the strands into the wind. “Did they burn the corpse?” I asked. “Yes.” “Good.” “Where is everyone?” Cathlin asked, searching the trees. “The watchtowers were empty as I rode past.” “Gone. Treow is deserted.” Where are you, Cross? Where the hell are you? I’d already lapped the encampment twice. I’d shouted for Odessa and Evie until my voice had cracked and my throat had gone raw. If my father had taken them, if he hurt them, I didn’t care what blood oaths I’d sworn, I would rip every limb from his body. And if a different kind of monster had found them in the night, I prayed Odessa had a safe place to hide. “Odessa and Evie should be here,” I said. “I sent them to the dungeons and told them I’d meet them here.” The color drained from Cathlin’s cheeks. “Where the fuck is she?” I dragged a hand over my face. “I never should have let her leave.” Cathlin put her hand on my shoulder. “We’ll find them.”
I would find them. Here, or in the shades. “I saw these in the street on my way to the paddock.” Cathlin moved to her saddlebags and took out two knives. Odessa’s knives. Blood stained both blades. Fuck. I hated that she didn’t have them. That she was out there somewhere without protection. Without me. The crack of a branch had both Cathlin and me whirling in the direction of the commons. My heart stopped, then sank when Mariette came walking through the trees. “Guardian.” The caretaker bowed. “Cathlin.” “Where is everyone, Mariette?” Cathlin asked. “Gone.” Her hair hung limp over her shoulders, the graying strands having escaped a severe knot. Her dark-brown eyes were weary and bloodshot. She wore a thick, gray cloak and carried a bag, stuffed full, on her shoulders. “I was the last to leave. I was past the final watchtower when I heard a whistle and came back. The king and his soldiers rode through before dawn and warned us of the crux scout. We’re following his caravan to Allesaria.” “Were Odessa and Evie with him?” I asked. She shook her head. “I didn’t see them. The king didn’t arrive with many. Only twenty or so soldiers. They gathered supplies but didn’t stay long.” “Fuck.” I clenched my jaw. “You should go. Catch up to the traveling party.” Get the hell out of Treow while she had a chance to escape. Mariette hesitated a moment, her gaze lifting to the treehouse above my head. Odessa’s treehouse. She stared at it for a moment like she was uncomfortable abandoning Treow. Like she wouldn’t see it again. But the hesitation faded, and as quickly as she’d appeared, she hurried off, weaving past thick tree trunks until she was gone. “If she’s not with your father, then where?” Cathlin asked, turning in a slow circle. Where? Where the fuck was my wife? A terror unlike any I’d ever known settled deep in my bones. It chilled my blood. “How many people know of the crux?” “Not many. Few survived the night.”
“Go back to Ellder. Pay the guards for their silence about the crux, the woman. Anyone else if necessary.” I walked to Aurinda and fastened Odessa’s knives to my saddle with a spare length of leather. “Stay with Zavier. Watch over him. If he wakes, send word. If he doesn’t…bury him beside my mother.” Tears filled Cathlin’s eyes. “And where exactly should I send word?” I swung onto the saddle, turning away from the path where Mariette had disappeared. Turning away from the road that would eventually take me to Allesaria. There was a chance Odessa would use the etchings on my cuff and go in search of the capital city. But I had a feeling she’d take Evie somewhere else. A place where she could hide my sister from our father. A place where she felt safe. “Quentis.” OceanofPDF.com
W Two ODESSA hat if I ran away? Sitting on the shore of a lake with no name, I stared across water as still and smooth as glass, willing myself not to break. Not to give in to the heartache and fear. Not to crumble into a thousand tiny pieces like the round pebbles beneath my seat. The lake was a mirror of snowcapped mountains, lofty evergreens, and a pastel sky. A flawless reflection of a realm turned upside down. This meadow was the picture of serenity. A haven for the weary soul. A cell without bars or locks. What if I ran away? I wouldn’t get far. We wouldn’t get far. Besides that, I was lost. Entirely lost. Evie was curled in my lap, fast asleep. She’d finally stopped shivering from the bath I’d forced her to take in the frigid water. Her clothes were filthy and covered in dried blood, but at least it was out of her hair and off her skin. Despite rinsing off in the lake, we still reeked of smoke, of death. It had been five days since Ellder, and I was beginning to fear the smell would haunt me forever. I pressed a kiss to Evie’s wet hair as a hawk swooped overhead and loosed a sharp caw. My entire body flinched. Evie whimpered, curling deeper into my arms. I kissed her hair again, rocking her gently back and forth until she relaxed. Faze purred as he nuzzled against my leg. Water lapped at the shoreline. My stomach growled.
Small noises to break the silence, but noises too quiet to chase away the screams. The beat of massive wings, the piercing screams of the crux, still rang in my ears. I opened my hand and traced the pink scar on my palm with a fingertip. A scar with a mirror on Ransom’s palm. Twins cut into our flesh on the day we signed the Shield of Sparrows treaty in blood and vowed to be husband and wife. Maybe if I touched my scar enough, he’d find his way to my side. Maybe I’d feel the echo of his pulse and know he was still alive. “Praise Ama. Beloved Mother,” I whispered, “let him live. Let us find our way to each—” My prayer was cut short by the prickle of Voster magic at my nape. Brother Dime walked through the grasses that surrounded this lake, his burgundy robes swishing against the golden green stalks. He reached for a yellow wildflower, skimming its blossom with a thick, grooved fingernail. The early-morning sun cast the meadow in soft, creamy light. It was the only time of day that the priest’s pale skin seemed to hold a hint of peach color. He came to a stop where the grass ended and the rocks along the shoreline began. Far enough from where I was sitting that the sting of his magic wasn’t unbearable, yet close enough to hear each other speak. With his hands clasped behind his back, he bowed. “Have you rested?” “No.” My voice didn’t sound like my own. It was too flat, too lifeless. Too numb. There were too many horrors to face at the moment. Learning of Jocelyn’s betrayal. Killing General Banner. Watching Brielle’s death. Hearing Evie scream as Zavier bled out on the street. Later. Those nightmares weren’t going anywhere. I’d deal with them when I wasn’t traipsing through the wilderness with a Voster who may or may not be trying to save my life. “We cannot linger,” he said. We’d been riding for five days, stopping only long enough to keep from hobbling Freya. Evie and I were both on the verge of collapse, and these short reprieves were barely long enough for us to catch our breath, let alone rest. I needed a lifetime to recover from that night at the fortress, not five days and a few stolen moments beside a godsdamn lake, even if it was
breathtaking. “We cannot keep going at this pace.” “You must, child.” I ground my teeth together to keep quiet. As hard as we’d pushed, he never seemed to tire or sleep. Brother Dime had walked these past five days while Evie and I rode Freya. Not once had his energy waned as he led us farther away from Ellder. From Treow. From Ransom. “Where are you taking us?” I asked for the hundredth time, and for the hundredth time, he did not answer. “I will fetch your horse.” He turned and retreated to the meadow where Freya was grazing. When we stopped before sunrise today, I took off her saddle, using it to lean against, but I left her halter on so she’d be easier to catch. Not that Brother Dime ever had trouble catching my horse. As he approached, she swished her black tail and walked to his outstretched hand, letting him stroke her gray cheek. Maybe the reason I hadn’t fought harder to escape Dime was because I feared Freya wouldn’t leave his side. Or because I was scared to return to Ellder and witness the aftermath of what we’d left behind. I was terrified I’d return and learn there was a reason for this aching hole in my heart. He’s alive. Ransom was alive. He wouldn’t die, not when we had so much left to experience together. He was probably in Treow, furious I wasn’t. When he found us, I’d gladly suffer his best glower and an epic ass-chewing. As long as he was alive. If going back to Ellder meant learning any other truth, meant losing him to the shades, then maybe I’d stay in the Turan wilds forever. On a sigh, I stroked Evie’s cheek. “Time to wake up, little star.” It took a moment for her gray eyes to flutter open. Her cerulean-blue starbursts flared bright, then faded with every blink until they were nearly engulfed by the gray. I gave her a smile she didn’t return. She simply stared up at me, hopeless, like she was waiting for me to rewind time. To take her back to a life where Zavier was alive. A life where
her father’s blood wasn’t crusted on her shirt. He’d given his life to save ours. Mine. It wasn’t fair that she’d lost so much. A father. And her mother. What would Luella say to Evie? How would she help her daughter move past this pain? Help me. I sent the silent prayer to the shades, then swallowed the burn in my throat, refusing to give in to the tears. I couldn’t break, not yet. Not while she needed me to stay strong. “Are you hungry?” I asked. Evie shook her head. She wasn’t eating enough. Neither was I. Not only had the long, endless days sapped my strength, but the constant bombardment from Brother Dime’s magic had dwindled my appetite. He worked to keep a distance, always careful not to touch my skin with his. He held the long ends of Freya’s reins as he led us through the forest, but those reins were only so long. And he had yet to let us out of his sight. What if I ran away? Would he stop us? I feared his magic enough not to try. He hadn’t treated us like captives, but I wasn’t fool enough to believe we were free. The night we rode away from the dungeons in Ellder, I asked Dime to take us to Treow. Ransom had told me to follow the moon, Aurinda, and it would lead me to the encampment. I’d been so relieved that we’d have an escort, even if it was magical. When we turned the wrong way, away from the twin moons, I told Dime we had to turn back. He’d taken Freya’s reins from my grip and continued on into the dark. I’d learned over the past five days that the Voster delivered most of his orders without a word. “Up we go.” I brushed Evie’s hair away from her face, then helped her stand before getting to my feet. Faze stretched out his front legs, his claws digging into the pebbles as he flicked his tail in the air. Then he pounced forward, jaw snapping at a bug. His ribs were more pronounced than they’d been in Ellder. I’d been feeding him bits of the dried meat that Brother Dime gave to Evie and me, but Faze was used to drinking milk, too. And he was as sick of
riding as we were. It had been too many days tucked in his carrier. The constant jostling and his own lack of freedom meant he was grumpy. When I fished him out earlier, he’d bared his fangs and hissed. I’d flicked him on the nose. Evie trudged to the shoreline, her arms limp at her sides. My hand came to my heart, rubbing at the ache. How did I do this? How did I help her? I had no idea how to tell her about Luella’s death or help her cope with losing Zavier. She was too young to have seen so much blood and violence. “Ease the burden on her heart, Goddess Carine.” I signed the Eight, circling my hand around my face and around my heart. “Give her peace.” If the prayers for myself went unanswered, I would survive. But I hoped, for Evie’s sake, there was a god or Eight listening. Faze bounded forward, winding around Evie’s legs. There were times when I was sure he felt her pain. Despite the growls and snarls he sent my way, he’d rarely left her side these past five days. He was always close, always patient. When she’d pull him into her arms and bury her face in his pink fur, he didn’t so much as squirm. I turned away from the lake, mentally summoning the strength to lift Freya’s saddle, when movement at the trees beyond Brother Dime made me go still. A rider on a black horse trotted into the meadow. For a single heartbeat, I thought it was Ransom. I thought he’d found us and could lead us somewhere safe. But then my eyes caught up with my hopeful heart and I realized the horse wasn’t black but another blue roan. And the person in its saddle was another priest. In one gnarled hand, he held the roan’s leads. In the other was a rope haltered to a brown horse trotting close behind. Brother Dime led Freya to me, careful, as always, not to touch my hand as he transferred the reins. Did Dime know why I could feel Voster magic when others couldn’t? I’d been too dazed since leaving Ellder to pester the priest for information, but if we were going to be traveling together, maybe I could get some answers. “Who is that?” Evie appeared at my side, staring up at Brother Dime. He dropped to a crouch, but he was so tall that even on bended knee she had to lift her chin to keep his gaze. “Brother Skore. He will be accompanying us as we ride to Ozarth.”
“O-ozarth?” I blinked. “Wait. We’re going to Ozarth? Why?” He ignored me. Maybe I needed to have Evie ask the questions from now on. She had better luck getting answers. Brother Dime lifted a hand, drawing the water from her hair and spinning it into a crown. It seemed like a lifetime ago he’d done the same for me outside an art gallery in a castle in Quentis. A stinging sensation crawled up my skin, but I held back a cringe, not wanting to take a moment of magic away from Evie. Except she didn’t stare up at the shimmering crown in wonder. No smile lit up her face. Instead, her gaze fell to the dirt. She stepped out from beneath the ring of water, moving closer to my side so her arm could hook around my leg. Brother Dime sent the water away with a flick of his wrist. It wasn’t easy to read his expressions, but the line of his colorless lips softened in what had to be pity. He stood and backed away a few paces, far enough that the bite of his magic lessened. The other priest rode to Brother Dime’s side, coming to a stop and dismounting his horse. He wore pale blue robes that draped around his bony frame. His nose was the same hawkish shape as Dime’s. Brother Skore let the animals free to graze as he came to Dime’s side. Both priests pressed their hands over their hearts and bowed. Their combined magic rocked me on my heels. “Go wait with Faze,” I told Evie, watching as she walked to join the tarkin at the water. If Dime thought he could keep up this breakneck pace, the priest was dreaming. Evie needed a place to sleep that wasn’t in my lap. She needed a meal and a real bath and a safe space to cry. And Freya needed longer breaks than she’d been given. “We must leave,” he said. “No.” I raised my chin, hoping I looked braver than I felt. “Not until you tell me why we’re going to Ozarth.” “It is the path you must take.” “That’s not an answer to my question.” “It is the only answer I can give.” I scoffed. “Then we’re leaving. We’re going to Treow to find Ransom.”
The priests shared a look that made my heart drop. A look that said I wouldn’t find him there. “What? Is he…” I couldn’t finish the question. My head began spinning too fast, and the ground beneath my boots seemed to tilt sideways. He’s alive. Ransom was alive. I wouldn’t let myself consider any other outcome. If anyone could survive the crux, it was the Guardian. I gripped the leather cuff on my forearm, the cuff Ransom had given to me, letting this piece of him steady me. “I do not know his fate, child.” Brother Dime spoke gently, like he knew I was moments from collapsing to my knees. “But this is where your paths divide. He is loyal to the High Priest.” “Aren’t you?” I certainly didn’t trust the High Priest, or Dime for that matter, but weren’t they all a part of the same brotherhood? “This is a journey you must take alone. It is the only way to discover your dynasty.” “My dynasty? I don’t have a dynasty.” I pointed behind me. “I have a terrified little girl who saw her father get murdered. So answer my question. Why Ozarth?” Brother Dime nodded to my saddle on the ground by my feet. “Turah is not safe for you. And I promised your father I’d keep you safe.” “Then take me to him.” Ransom had told me that if something happened to him, to Zavier, to get Evie out of Turah. To take her to Quentis. To put the entire continent of Calandra between her and King Ramsey. If he didn’t find us in Treow, Ransom would look for us in Quentis, so that’s where we were going. My father would protect us, and we could shelter with my family during the migration. “We don’t need to cross the border to Ozarth,” I said. “There’s no reason to travel east. We should ride south to the coast, then sail the Krisenth.” “We will not be sailing to Quentis.” I tossed up a hand. “Why not? It’s the fastest route.” The priests shared another look. “What aren’t you telling me? Why do you need to go to Ozarth? Unless you’re planning on riding the entire length of this continent, then there’s no point in…” Oh, gods. The realm tipped sideways as realization dawned.
“No. It’s too dangerous. It’s too far. What about monsters? What about the migration? It will take weeks.” From Turah to Ozarth, then Laine and Genesis. I couldn’t even fathom the idea of making that journey. I shook my head, heart pounding. “We’re not going with you.” “You are.” Brother Dime moved closer, the sting of his magic intensifying. “Do I have a choice?” “No.” I glanced over my shoulder to Evie. Why hadn’t I left the Voster days ago? He wouldn’t have been able to catch us on foot. But now that this new priest was here with two horses, we’d never get away. Unless I fought them. My gaze shifted to the sword beside my saddle. “Should the girl ride with me instead?” Brother Dime asked. “No.” I stepped sideways, blocking his path to Evie. “She stays with me.” “Then saddle your horse.” This bastard was going to use her to manipulate me, and until I came up with a plan to escape, I was stuck. “Fine.” “This will not be an easy journey,” he warned. “But you must find the strength to endure. For all of Calandra.” “And if I can’t?” “You must.” With that, Dime walked away. Brother Skore cocked his head to the side, studying me for a long moment. Then he raised a hand and snapped his fingers. A gust of wind came rushing from behind, nearly blowing me over. I lurched forward to catch myself, tripping over Freya’s saddle. Damn these Voster. I really should have run away. OceanofPDF.com
A I Three CASPIA man with silver eyes drives his sword through Emery’s heart. Feathers turn to flesh. Wings collapse to arms. Talons transform to toes. She falls from the stars with the silver-eyed warrior. My sister plummets to the earth. Until there is nothing but blood and dust. … woke from the vision with a jolt. My hair was stuck to the sweat on my brow, and every bone in my body felt as if it had been crushed, like I’d been the one to fall from the starry sky. There was a punishing ache in my chest, like the sword had gone through my heart, not Emery’s. “Not again.” My hands gripped the bedsheets as I closed my eyes, giving my heart a chance to sink back down my throat. Then I kicked the blankets from my legs and stood, shuffling across the stone floor to the open windows of my room. The salt breeze kissed my cheeks. The cool air filled my lungs. The scents of spice and sweet smoke floated to my nose. The vision of Emery’s death would haunt me for hours, and as the weight of her loss settled on my shoulders, I sagged against the open sill, staring down at the sleeping city sprawled beyond the palace’s feet. Moonbeams bathed Showe in gray and white. The streets were empty. The city was quiet, though that silence wouldn’t last long. Soon, the sun would rise from the ocean’s depths to kiss the sky good morning. By dawn, the coastline would be dotted with fishermen steering boats with colorful sails. Wagons would stream toward the countryside fields to collect a harvest. Herdsmen would ride their steeds beyond the
city’s walls to tend to their flocks. And miners would pile into carts bound for the elfalter mines, where they’d reap the precious metal from Nelfinex’s rock. The noise and chaos from Showe’s streets would filter through every open window in the palace, making it impossible to sleep. Not that I’d have time. Not with my chores and strict training regimen. I’d be smart to crawl back in bed and rest until dawn, but I knew the moment I closed my eyes, I’d see Emery and the silver-eyed warrior. Who was he? Where was she? I shifted to a seat in the wide windowsill, hugging my knees to my chest. In my heart, I knew she’d left for a good reason. But if my vision was true, if Emery had been murdered by that man and called to the afterlife by the Divine, we’d never know why she’d met that horrible fate. I’d never have the chance to say goodbye. “Emery,” I whispered to the wind, hoping the vision was wrong. Hoping the sun would come when she’d whisper back. It wasn’t my first sleepless moon spent in the window, soaking in the light from the stars. By the time golden rays shone on the horizon, my back was stiff and my eyelids heavy. My body would be sluggish during training, and I could already hear the lecture from my tutors. Footsteps sounded in the hallway beyond my bedroom. A moment later, knuckles tapped on the door and the knob turned. Xandra never waited for an answer or invitation. “Caspia, are you awake? If not, wake up.” My cousin walked into my room and clapped twice. Her long, coppery red-and-orange curls were pulled into a tight knot at her nape. She was in uniform, her ecru pants molding to the lean curves of her hips and thighs. The matching sleeveless vest left her strong arms bare. Wrapped around her biceps and forearms were the elfalter metal bands that indicated her station. Our station. Quiescent. Xandra and I were both waiting to go through the ritus. Then we would be Starling, and those gleaming armbands would be replaced by rings on each finger. Rings to represent loyalty to our country. To the Nelfinex people. To our family.
To the Starling. “I’m awake.” I unfolded my knees and swung my legs over the windowsill to hop down. Xandra took in my unmade bed and flowing white robe. My own fiery- red curls were loose and hanging to my waist. Normally when she barged into my room, I was fast asleep, drooling on a pillow. Those two claps of hers had become my morning call to arms. Her eyebrows knitted together as I slumped on the edge of my bed. “You had another vision, didn’t you?” “Yes.” There was no point denying it. I didn’t need a mirror to know my eyes were haunted. “Was it the same one? About Emery?” I nodded, picking at my thumbnail. “Vexx,” she cursed. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that word.” Cursing was strictly forbidden for the Quiescent. We were to be the epitome of stoicism, and cursing was an emotional crutch, according to my aunt. Xandra frowned. “I know you don’t want to tell her about the visions again, but—” “I don’t.” I stood and walked away from my cousin—from this conversation—and into my dressing room. Aunt Oleana didn’t want to hear about my visions, especially this one. No matter how many times I told her they were more than dreams, she’d only ever considered them my imagination run wild. She dismissed them as nonsense, as moon terrors that would stop after the ritus. Even when the visions were true, when I had proof that what I saw had happened, she didn’t believe. I’d stopped telling Oleana about them when I was sixteen. For years, I’d acted as her dutiful Quiescent, and if she wondered whether or not I still had dreams, she hadn’t asked. But after this vision of Emery had come again and again, I’d decided to break my silence. She’d dismissed it with a flick of her wrist. So no, I wasn’t going to tell her about it again. Clothes littered the floor of my dressing room. There was a towel in the doorway to my bathing chamber. The chest of drawers against the wall was nearly empty, its contents strewn in various piles.
I stripped off my robe, tossing it onto the nearest heap that I’d sort through later. Then I rummaged through the mess for the cleanest of my uniforms. All were wrinkled and had been worn at least once. Instead of sitting in my window, I should have done my washing. But laundry was my least favorite chore and the least of my worries, so I donned my pants and vest, the same as Xandra’s, and began braiding my hair in twin rows. Xandra was making my bed when I emerged from the dressing room. “You didn’t have to do that.” “I don’t mind.” She shrugged and straightened a pillow. “Where’s Hop?” “Graciella asked if he could sleep in her room.” “If you’re not careful, she’s going to steal your fenek.” “You’re probably right.” I laughed, righting a corner of the linen blanket, running a hand over the saffron-colored fabric. Then I sat on the bed’s edge to pull on my knee-high leather boots. Xandra took a seat at my side. “If you tell her, she might believe you this time.” “She won’t.” Of that, I had no doubt. “But this is the only vision that has repeated. That must mean something.” “Yes,” I murmured as a sinking feeling settled in my belly. I’d had visions my entire life. They’d come infrequently when I was a child, but as I’d grown from Nestling to Quiescent, as I’d matured into a woman, they’d come more often. Sometimes every four or five suns. Yet in all that time, the vision of Emery and the silver-eyed warrior was the only one I’d had more than once. Last moon’s marked the sixth time. Nothing good came from the number six. “You must tell her, Caspia. If not for your own peace of mind, for Graciella. If it’s true, she has the right to know her mother isn’t coming back. And if Emery has been murdered, there must be retribution.” She was right. We both knew she was right. Vexx. For Graciella’s sake, I needed to tell my aunt. And Emery deserved vengeance. It was the Starling way. “Fine,” I muttered.
“Thank you.” Xandra took my hand, holding it tight. With her other, she lifted the elfalter pendant hanging around her neck and brought it to her lips. The red-and-orange metal glimmered in the sunlight. The silver wing inlaid into the circle sparkled like a star. “By the grace of the Divine, she will listen.” I lifted my own necklace, pressing a kiss to the emblem of Nelfinex, of the Starling, as I gave a silent prayer. By the grace of the Divine, give us the rite. By the grace of the Divine, turn us true. “We should go.” I stood, tugging at the hem of my vest in the hopes of it working out a few wrinkles. “To speak to Aunt Oleana?” Xandra asked. “Yes. Before I lose my nerve.” “Make a vow. Then your courage won’t wane.” The Starling honored loyalty. We believed in vengeance and strength and discipline. But above all else, we kept our vows. Or died trying. So I pressed two fingertips to the center of my forehead. “You have my vow.” “Thank you.” I went to the tray on my vanity where I kept my elfalter bands and quickly slid them on my forearms and biceps. Then I followed Xandra out of my room. She and I took the nearest staircase, jogging up eight flights. When we reached the palace’s top floor, we passed a servant coming out of Saskia’s suite. “Princess Caspia. Princess Xandra.” His caramel eyes were bright as he passed us for the stairs, carrying a tray with Saskia’s half-eaten breakfast. “Good morning.” I returned his warm, kind smile. Once we were through the ritus, once we were Starling, the servants and attendants would be required to drop to their knees and bow when we met them in the halls. They would treat us as they did the Starling. As they did Aunt Oleana, the queen. For once we completed our ritus, we would be royalty. But we weren’t Starling yet. I’d miss the easy smiles and casual greetings. I’d miss the informality of being a Quiescent. I’d miss my room on the middle level of the palace, where I was closer to the city. I’d miss visiting the Nestlings each afternoon in the libraries.
At least as Starling, I wouldn’t have to do my own laundry. Xandra and I walked past a row of arched openings that overlooked the city and the Marixmore Ocean beyond. The scents of sage and citrus and salt wafted into the hall, and I drew in a deep breath, holding it in my lungs. Emery once told me that her senses had sharpened and changed after the ritus. She’d lost her love of crystalized lemon and candied honey. I hoped that when my transformation was complete, I still loved the smell of the sea. We passed door after door as we walked the length of the palace. Each belonged to a suite occupied by a Starling. Sisters. Cousins. Aunts. Great aunts. Grandmothers. A giggle echoed from an open room. A girl with wild, bouncing red curls—Starling hair—came racing out and into the hall with a fenek giving chase. “Graciella.” I smiled and bent to a crouch, arms opening wide. She crashed into my chest, laughing as I swept her up and spun her in circles. “Hi, Aunt Caspia.” “How is my sweetling girl?” I kissed her cheek and tapped her freckled nose before setting her down. She pushed a stray curl out of her face. “Bored and hungry. We’re sneaking into the kitchens for a treat. It was Hop’s idea.” “Oh, was it?” I reached to scratch behind Hop’s ears. “Hello, my pretty pet.” He nuzzled against my leg and purred. His cinnamon fur was nearly the same shade as the tiled floor, rich and warm and soft. The white tusks that extended below his jaw were as bright as the walls. Hop swished his bushy tail, then nudged Graciella’s hand, a silent order for her to follow him into mischief. “Don’t get caught,” Xandra warned. Graciella laughed, her gold eyes dancing as she skipped after my pet. “I never get caught.” Xandra shook her head as we continued down the hallway for the staircase that would take us to the mews. “That girl is too much like her mother.” The ache in my chest was instant. “That she is.” Graciella was only six summers, but even this young, she was Emery’s in every way. They were mirrors of each other in looks and personality.
It surprised no one that Aunt Oleana had taken over care of Graciella after Emery’s disappearance. Oleana had done the same when my mother left Nelfinex, leaving three daughters behind. And Emery had always been Oleana’s favorite niece. The niece she now refused to discuss. Maybe she’d listen this morning. For Graciella’s sake, for Emery’s honor, I would try. One last time. We reached a set of curving stone stairs and climbed to the level above. The sounds of beating wings and chirping notes greeted us when we reached the landing. The mews were still full this early. Nearly every nest was taken by a swift. As the sun rose higher in the sky, by the time the temperature reached its peak, these nests would all be empty. The massive birds would leave the palace to hunt the large elk and goats that inhabited Nelfinex’s rocky mountains. But for now, they were crowded and noisy. I walked to the closest nest, to a young female with glossy black feathers. “Hello, pretty girl.” She lifted her enormous beak to my outstretched hand, then nuzzled closer so I’d stroke the feathers between her dark eyes. Most swift lived in the wild, but a select few of the smartest and strongest stayed in the mews. Xandra wandered to the opposite end of the space to find Bisten, her favorite male and the largest swift who called this palace home. His auburn feathers had a golden sheen in the early-morning light. “Caspia.” My aunt’s voice rang through the room, carrying over the other noise. She stood at the mouth of an open archway, hands clasped behind her back, staring out over Showe. Her expression was blank and unreadable. Oleana’s hair was bound by thin straps of leather. The plait they formed fell down her spine in a thick line. She was dressed in an amber gown, the light fabric swishing in the breeze above her bare toes. She’d never had children, choosing instead to raise me and my sisters as her own. Of her three nieces, it was said that I took after her most. That when she’d been my age, we would have been mistaken for twins. We had the same straight nose and bow-shaped lips. The same oval face and delicate chin.
In appearance, we might have been similar. But in spirit, we were as different as the sun and the moons. Aunt Oleana wasn’t a loving woman. She was a leader, a ruler, and a politician. She was bound by duty to her people, to this country, and to our bloodline. She viewed my tender heart as a weakness. A queen could not afford affection. Not even for the girls who were raised as her daughters. As I joined her, the female swift I’d been petting stood, stretching her wings as much as the space would allow. She hopped to another archway, and with a single push off her strong legs, she leaped from the ledge, her wings stretching wide. The spikes at their leading edge sliced through the air. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Aunt Oleana asked as I took the place by her side, both of us watching as the female flew higher and higher. “Yes.” “If Graciella isn’t able to shift after her ritus, I’ll pair them as riders.” She spoke so quietly it seemed more of a passing thought than a statement she’d meant to share. A dread she hadn’t meant to voice. “Why don’t you think she’ll be able to shift?” “A contingency plan.” Oleana gave me a small smile, her eyes dropping to the bands clasped around my arms. That hint of a smile vanished. At twenty-five summers, I was long overdue for my ritus. Oleana had shifted at fifteen. Emery and Saskia both by sixteen. My mother left Nelfinex when I was a baby, and since no one in my family spoke of her, I wasn’t sure if or when she’d gone through her ritus. Every Starling felt the calling at her own time, and there was no rushing or forcing the change. We simply prayed to the Divine that it called. Xandra’s mother, my aunt Ophelia, had never gone through a ritus. Neither had her eldest daughter, Hara. They’d been born with Starling blood, yet they could not shapeshift. They would forever be Quiescents, flying on the backs of the swift rather than wings of their own. Xandra’s biggest fear was that she’d never go through a ritus. So was mine. In the Starling’s written history, there was no record of the gift ever failing to manifest. To my aunt’s knowledge, Ophelia had been the first. Hara the second.
As much as I hated to think there was a chance I’d never be a Starling, it was possible. The gift in our blood might have passed me over. It could happen with Graciella, too. “Emery shifted at sixteen,” I told Aunt Oleana. “Her gift was strong. I’m certain she gave it to Graciella.” The queen stayed quiet. As always, any mention of Emery was met with silence. Just like the mention of our mother. The only thing Aunt Oleana had ever said about my mother was that she’d been a dreamer. Part of me wondered if my mother’s “dreams” were visions like mine. A piercing scream carried from above a moment before a huge male swept down from the palace’s towers. Then came a shout, free and joyous, as the bird leveled out, wings outstretched. Hara rode on his back, her saddle harnessed around his chest. My cousin, with a beaming smile, twisted to wave. Oleana lifted her arm to wave back. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought the moisture in her eyes was tears. But I knew better. She did not cry. My aunt was not a woman to accept unfortunate fates. Instead, she’d built these mews so that the swift we tamed could be Ophelia’s and Hara’s wings. So that my daring cousin could fly, even if that meant doing so on the back of her precious bird. In two or three or four generations’ time, maybe the Starling gift would have dwindled to nothing more than a memory. Maybe by that time, whatever it was in our blood that made my lineage special would be so diluted that we’d lose the gift entirely. But this way, we could still fly. Hara and her male flew beyond the city walls, his horns gleaming beneath the sun as they raced into the distance. “You must begin to tend to Bisten.” Aunt Oleana turned and nodded to where Xandra stood, stroking the swift’s feathers. “Why?” Bisten’s temper was legendary, and he snapped at all the keepers except for Xandra. My cousin loved his prickly temperament, but I found it irksome. “He’s better suited to Xandra.” “Possibly. But I have chosen him for you.” I nodded, knowing better than to argue. Oleana had a reason for every decision.
Like Bisten could sense we were going to be stuck with each other, he let out a low chuff and set off for an archway window, leaving his nest empty as he flew away from the palace. Xandra went to the rack of tools to get started on her chores. For those of us who had not gone through the ritus, our suns started with chores. Xandra and I were assigned to the mews, and when we were finished here, we’d move on to lessons and weapons training. “If necessary, she can choose a different male,” Oleana said. “She gets on well with most.” “I hope it won’t be necessary. For either of us.” “So do I.” Our country was vast, the largest on the continent of Kenn. But Oleana was not the only ruler, and the three southern countries were controlled by tyrants. If they suspected the strength of the Starling was weakening, they wouldn’t hesitate to strike. The kings from the south were as hungry for power as they were for land. We needed to stand strong. We needed to ensure that anyone who harmed a Starling was dealt a fast death. “Aunt Oleana, I must tell you something.” She turned to face me, her attention fixed so firmly I nearly shied away. “Your ritus? Do you feel it calling?” “No.” Not yet. “I see.” Disappointment flashed over her face before she schooled her expression to cold indifference. “What must you tell me?” I steeled my spine. “I had a vision of Emery’s death again.” If there was any hint of warmth in Oleana’s golden eyes, it vanished. “Emery is not dead.” “I don’t want to believe it’s true, either. But what if—” “She’s not dead.” Her voice was as sharp as a blade. “She left us to go on some ridiculous journey with that man. She abandoned her family, her daughter, when I expressly told her she was not to leave. She defied my order. She has forsaken her duty. But she is not dead. She will return and take her rightful place.” “But the vision—” “Enough.” Oleana sliced a hand through the air.
I hid my fists behind my back. “I’ve had the same vision of Emery six times, Aunt Oleana. It’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt. There is a man with silver eyes who—” “I said enough,” she shouted, so loud I rocked back on my heels. “You will not speak of this again. I forbid it, Caspia.” It wasn’t an order from my aunt. It was a command from my queen. I ducked my chin, ever the obedient princess. “Yes, Majesty.” She hooked a finger under my chin, tilting up my face until I met her gaze. “They are only dreams, Caspia. That’s all they’ve ever been. Nothing more. Your sister is alive. And by the grace of the Divine, she will return soon.” Dreams. No matter how many had come true, no matter how often I pleaded with her to believe, they’d only ever be dreams. “Yes, Aunt Oleana.” She cupped my cheek. “We must focus on our family. This country. The Beesan king has been pushing against our southern border. If he learns that Starling blood is wilting, he may get reckless ambitions. I will not let a single Nelfinex person suffer the same fate as the Velvi’os-telfer. We will not be driven from our own land and hunted to near extinction. We must stand strong. Together. Do you understand?” “Yes.” I nodded. “Good. Now, get on with your work.” She swept past me and walked to the stairs, lifting the hems of her skirts as she set off for her auditorium, where she’d spend the sun ruling our country. I waited until she was gone before I let my shoulders sag. Xandra abandoned her shovel and crossed the room, joining me at the open archway. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you to tell her. I thought… I thought she might listen.” “It’s not your fault.” It wasn’t my aunt’s, either. She didn’t want to believe Emery was gone, and my visions were something she simply could not understand. Only two people had ever believed they held merit. Xandra. And Emery. When—if—I went through the ritus, would the visions stop? Part of me hoped I’d never dream again.
Turning away from Xandra, I let my gaze wander to the ocean, where waves crashed against the shore. The coastline was as blue as an azure jewel, the sand as bright as our uniforms. The water was endless, darkening as it stretched toward the unknown. A tingling sensation crept up my arms, raising bumps on my flesh. My blood stirred. Something inside me tugged toward that dark blue, pulling so hard I took an involuntary step forward and gasped. The ritus. “Caspia?” Xandra asked. “What is it?” “Nothing,” I lied, not ready to name the sensation quite yet. I lifted my hand to the pendant resting over my heart, and the elfalter metal warmed as I covered it with my palm. There were answers across the sea. Answers for Emery. Answers for myself. Oleana had told me the ritus beckoned us in different ways. Some were called to journey into the mountains. Others would trek across the desert. My future was beyond Nelfinex’s shores. “Oh, I don’t like that look,” Xandra muttered. I tore my gaze from the sea, feigning surprise. “What look?” Her mouth flattened into a thin line. “The look that says you’re going to get us into trouble.” OceanofPDF.com
A Four ODESSA tree branch slapped me in the face. “Ouch.” I batted it away, tasting pine needles and sap. I carefully touched the sting on my cheek, and my fingers came away wet. Just when I thought this night couldn’t get worse, now I was bleeding. Son of a bitch. Shades, I hated this. I hated trees. I hated nature. I hated my saddle, and I hated this night. The faint light from the crescent twin moons, Aurinda and Aurrellia, was barely enough to see my own hand in front of my face, let alone oncoming tree branches. Trying to see in this darkness was giving me a headache. And Brother Dime, riding ahead of me, couldn’t be bothered to warn me to duck. I silently glared into the darkness, hoping he’d feel my irritation the same way I could feel his magic. If not for the sound of his horse’s hooves and the prickle of that magic, I wouldn’t have a damn clue that he was in front of me. The same was true of Brother Skore. He trailed behind, probably to make sure I didn’t get any ideas about leaving our delightful little parade. It had been three miserable days since we left the mountain lake, and I ached from head to toe. Not even my first journey across Turah, riding beside Tillia, had been this painful. Thinking of her beautiful face made my heart ache. Was Halston alive? Had he survived losing his leg to the crux? Would he get the chance to meet their baby? What would Tillia do in this situation? Would she continue riding with the Voster? Or would she say to hell with it and try to escape? Evie wiggled in the saddle, tearing me from my thoughts.
Her body was pressed against mine, her weight in my arms with her head on my shoulder as she slept. Even if it cost me everything, I would find a way to get this girl to Quentis. To keep her safe. So I stared ahead, catching the occasional glimpse of Brother Dime’s shadowed figure as we rode into the night. With my hands loose around the reins, I traced the scar on my palm. The hole in my chest felt bigger at night. It was too quiet, too lonely, in the dark. He’s alive. He was alive. He had to be alive. He wouldn’t have waited long in Treow before returning to Ellder to retrace our path. Would he catch up to us soon? Or did Brother Dime have a way to hide our trail? Maybe they were using wisps of wind to blow dirt over our tracks. Gods, I hated the Voster. I hated their magic. I hated their vague statements about fate and destiny. I hated their creepy fingernails and eerie eyes. The hate simmered under my skin, a constant burn in my chest. And stoking this rage made the heartache easier to forget. Ransom trusted the priests. That had seemed like enough of a reason to follow Brother Dime out of that dungeon in Ellder. But maybe my husband was wrong. Maybe I’d been right all along to be skeptical of the brotherhood. Doubt and fear were wearing me thin. We’d stopped more frequently over the past three days to let the horses recover. It should have been enough time for me to rest, but each time I closed my eyes, I’d panic that the Voster would take Evie while I slept. Our last stop had been at midday. I’d finally managed to sleep for a few hours, until a dream had jolted me awake. Long after the sun had set, the nightmare of Luella’s death still haunted my thoughts. In this darkness, it was hard to block out the memory of her body being cleaved in half by the crux. Another tree branch swung for my face, but this time, I managed to swat it away. After we left the lake, Brother Dime had warned me that we’d have to ride through the night. He’d insisted these mountains were crawling with
grizzur. Zavier had once told me the monsters don’t see well at night, so it was safer to travel after the sun went down. Were there monsters in these woods? Or was the threat of death by fangs and claws another one of Dime’s ploys, because traveling by night was the most effective way to ensure I stayed lost? We could be in Turah or Ozarth or the Evon Ravine for all I knew. Brother Skore murmured something from behind me, the low hum loud enough to reach my ears but too quiet for me to understand the words. After three days and nights listening to those quiet words, I’d come to the conclusion that he was praying. Except he never signed the Eight. He didn’t speak to any of the Six. Instead, he kept invoking the Divine. Was that another term the Voster used for Ama and Oda? As tempting as it was to ask, Brother Skore did not seem overly fond of this princess. In fact, I’d say he was about as happy to be trekking through the mountains at night as I was. Maybe we could bond in our shared misery. A blast of wind came from behind, Skore’s signal I was going too slow. Maybe not. I twisted over my shoulder, pulling free the smelly curls he’d whipped into my face, and gave him my fiercest glare. Could he see in the dark like Ransom? Oh, I hoped so. “Papa.” Evie’s body jerked, her leg kicking. The jolt was enough to stir Faze awake in his carrier. He squirmed, his paws pushing into my ribs so hard I winced. “Shh.” I rocked Evie. “It’s okay.” She whimpered and kicked again, her mouth turning down in a frown. Her nightmares were getting worse, and these long, dark nights weren’t helping. Last night she’d fought me so hard I’d nearly dropped her. It was like she was reliving Ellder again. Like she was fighting me as I’d dragged her away from Zavier’s body. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” She kicked harder, squirming to be free. “Wake up, Evie.” As much as she needed to sleep, my arms were too tired to hold her while she thrashed. “Wake up.” Her eyes popped open, wide and terrified. She blinked up at me, like she was still stuck in the past. Then reality came crashing down.
A reality where her father was gone. Fat, soul-crushing tears spilled down her cheeks. “I want Papa.” “I know, little star.” Her body shook as she buried her face in my chest, letting free the sobs that had been building for days and days. I didn’t care if it pissed off the Voster. I pulled hard on Freya’s reins, forcing her to stop. Then I wrapped both arms around Evie, holding her while she cried. “I want Papa.” Her tears coated my shirt. The sound of her heartbreak filled the night, echoing off trees until it floated above their tops like smoke, destined for the shades. “I’m sorry, Evangeline,” I whispered into her hair. “I’m so sorry.” A gust of magical wind hit my back. I ignored it. Brother Skore could rot while we took this one godsdamn minute to mourn. I curled around Evie, stroking her hair as she cried, shielding her from the wind. He could blow and blow and blow. The asshole. I wasn’t moving. Only when the sound of hooves stopped at my side and the prickle of magic intensified did I finally look up. In the dark, his white skin and pale robes glowed. “What?” I snapped. “Just give us a few—” A roar sounded in the distance. A roar that was close enough to stop Evie’s sobs in a snap and make her sit up straight. Oh, hell. I knew that roar. Grizzur. Skore pointed to the trail ahead. If the other gusts of wind he’d sent were subtle hints, the blast that slammed into my shoulders now was an order. I was already moving, gripping Freya’s reins as I kicked her forward. We bolted into the trees, quickly catching Brother Dime as we sped from a walk to a canter. I adjusted my seat, the muscles in my legs screaming as I struggled to find a rhythm at the faster pace with Evie in front of me and Faze in his carrier against my ribs. My satchel full of books and the dagger Ransom had given me bounced where I’d secured it to the saddle. My sword in its sheath smacked me against the spine. “Hold on,” I told Evie. Told myself. “Just hold on.”
Another roar sounded, loud enough to hear over my pounding heart and Freya’s hooves and Evie’s cries. Brother Skore’s wind was relentless, pushing us forward as he stayed at my side, his robes flowing off his gangly frame. We rode hard and fast for what felt like days until finally we broke through the trees and into a clearing kissed by moonlight. Brother Dime drew his mount to a halt, waiting as we came to a stop at his side. He panted, and for the first time, it seemed that this grueling pace had finally caught up to the priest. “We can’t keep going like this.” My lungs burned, my voice hoarse. Something wet hit my forearm, and it took me a moment to realize it wasn’t a raindrop but one of Evie’s tears. “Please. We need to stop.” “You masked our scent?” Dime asked Skore, earning a nod. The wind. It wasn’t to push me forward but to hide our trail from the grizzur. “We’re nearly there.” Brother Dime urged his horse forward, thankfully at a walk. I sucked in a deep breath and wrapped my arms around Evie, giving her a hug and a kiss. Then I reached into Faze’s carrier, scratching his head as I nudged Freya forward. We followed Brother Dime through the clearing and into more trees. When we emerged into a rolling field, a light shone in the distance. It grew steadily larger as we rode to a cabin at the edge of another wood. The house reminded me of the homes in Ravalli, built from rough-hewn logs and sunken into the ground. There were no spikes on its roof. I hoped whoever lived here would add them before the migration. Beside the house was a barn built level with the earth. A horse with a white stripe down its nose grazed in a fenced corral. The front door of the house opened, and a man climbed the stairs, a lantern in one hand, a crossbow in the other. He was a colossus with brown skin and black hair braided in rows. His eyes were hard and focused as he raised his weapon. Then his stern expression vanished and he let the crossbow drop to his side. “Brother Dime.” “I am sorry for the intrusion, Damon.” “No apologies. Welcome.” He quickly rushed down the stairs to the house, shouting through the door, “Sally. We have visitors. Put on a kettle.” Both priests swung off their horses.
“A “Are we staying here?” If we were leaving again, there was no way I was getting down. I’d never get back up, not tonight. Brother Dime nodded. “Thank the gods.” I signed the Eight and got down, then helped Evie out of the saddle. She hurried to hide behind my legs. Weeks ago, she might not have been the first to introduce herself, but she wouldn’t have cowered. I blamed this newfound wariness on Banner. On the pride and violence of vengeful men. Banner could rot in Izzac’s hell for all I cared, and I wished him constant torment from the God of Death. Damon walked to Brother Dime, bowing to the priest before taking his horse’s reins. “What do you need?” “Shelter for the Sparrow.” Damon’s eyes darted in my direction as he lifted the lamp. He took in my wrinkled, filthy clothes. His gaze lingered a moment too long on Ransom’s cuff before he offered the same bow he’d given the Voster. “Of course. It would be an honor.” “Thank you.” I shifted, forcing Evie into the light. “This is Evangeline.” Damon gave her a smile. “Hello, dear one.” “And this is Faze.” I fished the tarkin from his carrier, bending to set him on the ground. If we were going to be staying in this man’s home, he should know we came with a pet. Faze’s steps were wobbly, like he was still shaken up from the harrowing ride. He let out a growl, then sniffed the air. “Th-that’s a…” Damon sputtered. “Tarkin.” I gave him a sweet smile. “Do you have any milk?” nother bowl?” Sally asked, stirring the pot of stew with her ladle. “No, thank you.” I dabbed the corner of my mouth. “It was delicious.” The meal was rich with meat and vegetables, and their home smelled of savory spices. But after too many days with too little food, my stomach protested being full. Evie had barely eaten half of her serving and was nibbling a yeasted roll as she leaned against my side. Sally gave me a kind smile before going to tidy her kitchen.
It was almost strange to be clean and fed. Strange and wonderful and energizing and draining. While Damon had stayed outside to help the Voster with our horses, Sally had ushered us inside the house. She’d taken one look at us in the light and immediately shown us to the small bathing chamber attached to their house. She ran a hand pump that sent a spray through a hose in the ceiling, and though the water was cold, most of the dust and dirt washed down the drain. As I combed out Evie’s hair and my own, Sally found us fresh clothes. I was wearing a pair of her pants, slightly too big, but I’d cinched them with a rope. The tunic I’d borrowed was a simple tan. Ransom’s cuff was hidden beneath my sleeve. My necklace was tucked under the collar, the metal warm against my skin. Evie was dressed in a blue shirt that had been Damon’s when he was a child. It smelled stale from the cedar chest where it had been for years, but it was clean. There hadn’t been any pants in Evie’s size, so I’d washed hers in Sally’s laundry tub, then hung them to dry. The door swung open, and Damon ducked inside. He’d gone out to dispose of our dirty wash water and check on the Voster, who were staying in a loft in the barn. For the first time in days, I didn’t feel the crackle of their magic. It was bliss. Faze was in a corner of the room, licking his paws after his own meal of milk and meat scraps. Damon crossed the room to Sally, kissing her honey-colored hair, then took the bench seat across from the one that Evie and I shared. A necklace I hadn’t noticed earlier swung free from the collar of his tan tunic. Evie sat up straight, eyes locked on the black claw tied to a string of leather. “What’s that?” “Oh, it’s from a lionwick. My father gave it to me.” Damon lifted it to catch the room’s light. “The story goes, he found the monster in a trap. As a gift for setting the beast free, the monster gave my father this claw. He wore it like this, around his neck, and never fell sick. He never felt pain. He gave it to me the day he decided to take his place in the shades. Now it keeps me healthy and strong. And someday, I’ll give it to my son.”
The bench might as well have been pulled out from beneath me. No. Fucking. Way. I fought to keep my jaw from dropping as Sally slid into the space beside her husband. Damon’s hand splayed across her rounded belly. “A fanciful story.” Sally tapped the claw necklace. “I think they both just like how it looks.” Damon laughed, his dark-brown eyes alight with love. “Maybe you’re right.” Or maybe it was magic. How was it that, not so long ago, I’d sat around a different table and heard this same story? Luella had said it was in the journal with the emblem of my own necklace on the cover. A journal that had led her to create the elixir that played its role in Lyssa. A journal in my satchel. Had the person who wrote that story known these people? Had Luella met them before? Maybe tomorrow, I’d pull Damon aside and ask. But right now, I didn’t want to mention Luella’s name with Evie so close. I wasn’t ready to tell her that Luella was dead. Evangeline yawned, her mouth stretching wide. “I think I’d better get her to bed.” I stood, picking up my bowl. “Leave that.” Sally waved me off. “Get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning.” I collected Faze so he wouldn’t shred their armchair in the night. Then I whisked Evie to the spare room where we’d be sleeping. Once she was tucked into the cot and asleep, I tiptoed to my satchel and took out the black leather journal. My fingertips skimmed the embossed wing inlaid in a circle. Then I opened the clasp and cover to pages filled with sentences I couldn’t read. The old language. I wasn’t sure how or when, but even if it took me months, I’d read every page of this journal. If there was a chance it held the clue to a cure for Lyssa, I’d memorize every page. OceanofPDF.com
M Five CASPIA oonbeams streamed through the windows as I took a final look around my room. The floor was spotless, the bed neatly made. The vanity top was clear save for three letters on its wooden surface. One for Aunt Oleana. One for Xandra. And one for Graciella. By the grace of the Divine, I’d see them again and those letters wouldn’t be my final farewells. But in case I didn’t get that chance, I’d penned them each a note goodbye. I prayed that I’d return. That soon I’d fly home as a Starling and have summer after summer with my family, soaring over my city. And when—if —I returned, I’d happily suffer Oleana’s wrath for disobeying her orders. Maybe her anger would be tempered if I completed my ritus and avenged Emery’s death. Since the moon when I’d seen Emery’s death for the sixth time, the calling I’d felt standing in the mews had only grown stronger. My blood was stirring. Something beckoned from across the sea. In my soul, I knew the vision and my ritus were linked. And it was time to answer the call. Maybe Aunt Oleana was right, and after I completed my ritus, the visions would stop. Until then, I’d use what the Divine had shown me to bring honor to my sister’s death. I’d follow this calling to learn the truth of her fate and kill the silver-eyed man who’d dared take a Starling’s life. The leather pack at my feet was stuffed with a spare change of clothes, a canteen, and a healing salve. The pockets held a bone comb, two books, and one tiny canister of hair oil for my curls. And tucked in every empty space I could find were various teas I’d bought from an apothecary in Showe. A tea for seasickness. A tea for headache. A tea to help me sleep and another to keep me awake.
My kukri was secured across my spine, hidden by my hooded cloak. My sharpest knives were strapped to my forearms and around each of my thighs. I picked up the pack, slinging the straps over my shoulders. Its weight was as heavy as my heart. There was a chance that I was wrong and this journey would prove to be a mistake. And even if I was right, if this was my ritus calling, there was a chance I wouldn’t be strong enough for the change. Not every Quiescent survived her first shift. The rite was as dangerous and deadly as it was powerful. Was that why my mother had left Nelfinex? Maybe she’d been called by her ritus after birthing three daughters, and the change had taken her life. I would always resent Aunt Oleana for not speaking of my mother. The secrets in our family would be our demise. My pulse pounded as a tug drew me toward the windows, like a rope tethered to my chest, pulling me away from Nelfinex. A thrum vibrated through my body, spreading from my heart to my hands and feet. It was like a chord being strummed on a guitar, the notes in perfect harmony. Beyond my sleeping city, the ocean stretched to meet the moonlit sky. The waves glittered in the starlight. Every time I looked toward that unknown place on the horizon, I felt that thrum. It was time to go. Before I lost my nerve, I crossed the room and opened the door, pausing on the threshold to take one last look over my shoulder. “Goodbye,” I whispered, hoping my farewell would linger long enough for Xandra to hear in the morning. When she came to wake me, clapping twice, she’d take one look at the tidy room and know immediately that something was wrong. By that point, I’d be a league away, sailing into the dawn. Divine, guide my path. I closed the door and moved on silent feet to the nearest stairwell. The ship I’d hired had cost me a fortune, nearly all of my elfalter armbands, but it was fast, and more importantly, the captain, an infamous pirate, hadn’t asked questions. There was a chance Aunt Oleana would fly out over the Marixmore and fetch me. When she shifted into a swift, there wasn’t a vessel in Nelfinex that could match her speed. But I hoped that when she read my letter, when
she realized this was not simply a quest for vengeance, she’d let me take this journey for my ritus. My boots whispered on the stone stairs as I hurried to the main level. When I reached the palace’s vestibule, I flipped up the hood on my charcoal cloak, hiding my hair from view. When I became a Starling, I could come and go as I pleased. Saskia’s favorite time to fly was at moons’ peak. So was Oleana’s. But as a Quiescent princess, I was under a strict curfew. To leave the palace, I was required to keep with a company of guards. It didn’t matter that I could best any of them in combat. Until I could shapeshift, until the time came when I could take the form of any animal to defend myself against a threat, I was under the protection of the queen’s Royal Blades. I walked softly on my toes. I kept my hood drawn low. The sounds of footsteps and male voices drifted from a hallway ahead. I scurried to the closest wall, tucking myself into an alcove just as a pair of guards rounded a corner and stepped into the vestibule. Both men were dressed in ecru uniforms and armed with swords, knives, and daggers. The Royal Blades were aptly named. I held my breath, waiting until they passed, none the wiser to my presence. As their hulking figures rounded another corner, I slipped away from the wall and scurried for the hall that led to the gardens. The moment I was out the door, a cool breeze kissed my face. The overwhelming urge to cry burned in my nose. Not once in my life had I spent a moon outside this palace. A small part of me had doubted I’d even make it this far. An even smaller part hoped that I’d be caught. That I’d miss the ship waiting for me at the docks. I swallowed the lump in my throat, then quickly crossed the garden’s stone pathways, weaving past vibrant blooms and drawing in their fragrant scents as I set off for the nearest iron gate. As it came into view, I took a fortifying breath and squared my shoulders, flipping the hood off my hair. The guards in the gardens were not Royal Blades. Only the best warriors were allowed inside the palace halls. The men and women stationed outside were simply sentries, tasked primarily with keeping people out, not in. And unlike the Blades who trained with the Quiescents every sun, the sentries were not familiar with my face. In the dark, I was counting on them mistaking me for Saskia.
The ten rings on my fingers should help. Only the Starling wore elfalter rings, a symbol of status and ability. They were wide, spanning the lower half of each finger. The rings on my hands were Emery’s. I’d stolen them from Aunt Oleana’s room when I went to visit Graciella—to leave Hop in her care and hug her goodbye. When my sister left Showe with Max, she’d left her elfalter rings behind. Just like she’d left Graciella. It was probably intended to be a slap in our aunt’s face after their horrible fight about Max. Since Oleana had no daughters, Emery was supposed to be her heir. My aunt had forbidden Emery from taking a Beesan as consort and delivered an ultimatum. Leave Max or forget becoming queen. The next morning, Emery was gone. And she’d left her rings—gifts from Oleana upon completing her ritus—at Graciella’s bedside table. I didn’t blame Emery for choosing the man she loved. But to leave her daughter? That, I didn’t understand. We’d been abandoned by our mother. Emery knew how it felt. How could she do that to her own child? Despite her quarrels with Oleana, Emery loved Graciella. I had to believe that my sister wouldn’t have left unless she’d planned to return. Maybe Emery had been on her way home when she’d been killed by the silver-eyed man. I intended to find out. It felt wrong to wear her rings, but at least they would grant me my freedom. I hardened my steps so the thwack of my boots would catch the sentry’s ear. Then, with my chin lifted, I extended my hand so the rings would gleam in the moonlight. “Starling.” The man bent at the waist, eyes cast downward. “The gate, sir.” It was only by the grace of the Divine that my voice remained steady. He lifted the rail that barred the gate closed and, with another bow, pushed open the iron bars. The hinges creaked as it swung outward. If he wondered why I’d leave through a gate rather than fly over the walls, he didn’t ask. Without a word, I marched through the opening and onto the nearby street.
The sentry’s gaze was hot on my shoulders as I walked away with measured strides. Not too fast, not too slow, until the street sloped away from the palace, and I ducked behind a building, pressing flat against its rough white stone. “Vexx.” I slapped a hand over my racing heart, and the rings resting against my knuckles clinked together. One by one, I slipped the thick, smooth bands off my fingers and into the pocket of my pants. This pirate I’d hired would earn my elfalter bands as payment, but I didn’t want him to know I had these rings. I didn’t trust him not to change the price of this voyage if he knew I had more to offer. Quiescents had very little wealth individually, despite our family’s vast fortune. That would change after I went through the ritus and became a Starling. My inheritance of elfalter, gold, silver, and jewels would make me one of the richest people in Nelfinex. But I wasn’t rich yet. With the rings safely stowed, I pushed off the wall and hastened through Showe for the docks. The streets were empty, illuminated by the light of the two moons and the occasional house lamp. The white stone used for every building gave off its own faint shine, allowing me to make out different colors. Red tile roofs. Mahogany wooden doors. Umber brick roads. And over my shoulder, a palace the color of pale peaches with shining lamps and gleaming elfalter roofs. The temptation to turn around, to return to my room, was so overpowering I tripped over my own feet. But I caught my balance and kept going, not letting myself look back again for fear the palace would lure me home. By the time I reached the entrance to the docks, my stomach was in a knot and my head was spinning. This was my ritus. It had to be. I refused to believe I’d fallen victim to a meaningless dream. Still, my steps slowed as doubts spread like poison through my mind. Was I wrong? A short, shrill whistle rang through the dark. Another moon, I would have been annoyed that a pirate had summoned me like a dog. But right now, I needed that whistle to keep me going.
Cap leaned against a lamppost, chewing on a toothpick. His bulky arms were crossed over his barrel of a chest. He stood with one ankle casually draped over the other. His blond hair was long on top and shaved on the sides. A row of golden hoops decorated the shells of his ears. He looked like Emery’s Max, handsome and roguish with a devilish glint in his cobalt eyes. I could see why my sister had fallen for her own pirate and why she’d let Max take her away from Nelfinex. “Ready, Starling?” he asked, pushing off the post and tossing his toothpick aside. “I’m not Starling.” Not yet. “As long as I am paid by your Starling elfalter, I don’t care what you call yourself.” He held out a meaty hand. I took the elfalter bands from my cloak’s pocket and passed them over. “Your payment, per our agreement.” He inspected the jewelry, tilting each band from side to side so the metal would catch the light. “They’re real.” I rolled my eyes. “Of course they’re real.” “Can’t be too careful.” Cap flashed a dazzling smile, then led the way through the maze of wooden walkways, taking me past stalls and huts where fishermen and merchants would trade their goods at dawn. Our footsteps mingled with the sound of water slapping against the dock’s pylons. Once we reached the outermost row, we passed ships and boats of all different sizes until we came to a stop beside a ship with lofty black sails. Cap swept out an arm for the plank that bridged the gap between the boat and dock. “After you, Princess.” “Thank—” A piercing scream rent the air. My gaze whipped to the sky, searching for beating wings. I found her soaring around the castle’s tallest spire, circling the mews. Aunt Oleana. Even in the dark, even from this distance, I knew her beautiful silhouette as it blotted out the stars. I pressed two fingertips to the center of my forehead. “I will avenge her, my queen. You have my vow.” Cap cleared his throat. “Your ship, Starling.”
I didn’t bother correcting him again. With a nod, I crossed the plank and stepped aboard. The ship rocked beneath my boots. And before I was ready, we set sail into the black. OceanofPDF.com
A I Six ODESSA scream rips through the night. Brielle stares at me, tears streaming down her face. Blood coats her hands. Two knives glint in the firelight from where they lie in the dirt. Smoke clouds the air. One moment, Brielle stands in the street. The next, she is gone. … gasped awake, sitting upright so fast the small bedroom began to spin. It took a moment for me to remember that I wasn’t on that street in Ellder. That I was safe in this house, far away from the fortress. Shit. I pressed my fingertips to my temples, rubbing small circles as I gave my heart a few moments to stop pounding. If Evie’s nightmares felt as real as mine, it was no wonder she jerked and kicked and whimpered in her sleep. She was curled against my hip, her hands clasped beneath her cheek. Her eyelashes were dark crescents above her soft cheeks. A lock of her wispy brown hair had curled beside her temple. Careful not to wake her, I slipped out from beneath the patchwork quilt and stood from the cot. The floor was cold on my bare feet as I crept to the corner chair where I’d piled my pants and socks. I pulled them on, then took a seat, picking up the stack of books I’d left out last night. They seemed heavier this morning, like the weight of their words was growing by the hour. The journal with the emblem from my necklace was unreadable until I learned the old language, so I set it aside. Then I fanned through Luella’s other two books that I’d found hidden in the compartment in the stairs of the migration cellar. Each was full of Luella’s handwriting.
One contained the detailed ingredients and instructions for creating the elixir she’d given Ransom and taken herself. It included her notes about where and how she’d harvested supplies. From korakin to cave ginger, it had the recipe to create her elixir and a list of every person who’d had it injected into their body. The other journal wasn’t as organized. It was full of notes and scribbles about how to find a cure for Lyssa. It was her theories and tests. Some were circled. Others were crossed out with angry lines. I hoped that if I gave these two books to my father’s alchemists and healers, they’d be able to take Luella’s notes and find a cure. And that with the help of the clerics in the castle’s sanctuary, I could decipher the journal with the winged emblem. Did the Voster know the old language? I loathed the idea of asking Brother Dime for help, but maybe he could teach me on our trek across Calandra. I put Luella’s journals aside and opened the last of the books I’d stuffed into my satchel. My own journal, filled with sketches of monsters and an incomplete map of Turah. Now that I had Ransom’s cuff, I could finish the map and plot the road to Allesaria. For generations, the Turans had kept the city’s location a secret. Most suspected it was hidden deep in the mountains—or a myth altogether. Perris had once been the capital, but after it was decimated during a migration, the king had left the former castle in ruins and moved his stronghold. Turah’s wealth, knowledge, and history were now in Allesaria. I pushed back my tunic’s sleeve, studying the cuff beneath. My fingertips skimmed over the lines and etches that Ransom had carved and notched into the brown leather, some grooves soft and faded while others were fresh and bright. A map. Possibly the only complete map of Turah in existence. Maps were forbidden in Turah, and to be found with one was punishable by death. Yet Ransom had made this cuff anyway. He’d plotted towns and villages along with notches for the monsters killed with Lyssa as he’d tracked the infection’s spread across his kingdom. And he’d cut a thin line that marked the path to a hidden city. The road to Allesaria.
A capital guarded by blood oaths and magic. Yet, somehow, Ransom had circumvented the nuances of a blood oath. Every king in Calandra would kill for this cuff, including my father. Father had sent me to Turah not only as the Sparrow to fulfill Quentis’s obligation to the treaty, but also as his spy. He’d tasked me with finding the way into the Turan capital. Except I wasn’t a spy. I’d failed spectacularly at gleaning information from the Turans. The only reason I knew Allesaria’s location was because of Ransom. He trusted me enough to take this cuff and safeguard its meaning. He trusted me not to betray his people. Our people. I wasn’t sure what my father wanted in Allesaria, but until I learned his motives, my map would stay unfinished. After closing the book, I tucked it into my satchel. Then I pulled down the sleeve of my tunic, covering the cuff. One by one, I put the other books back into my satchel, praying the seams of the bag were strong enough to hold until Quentis. Faze uncurled himself from the cot where he’d slept on my feet all night, keeping them warm. He jumped down and stretched, then prowled over and hopped into my lap, nuzzling a hand. “Still spoiled,” I whispered, scratching behind his ears. He gave a quiet rawr. Two new rows of red-and-orange scales were forming along his spine. Four rows were becoming six. His fur was still pink, but it was slowly darkening, and the stripes at his ribs were more pronounced with every passing day. “What am I going to do with you?” I asked, my voice low so I didn’t wake Evie. “We can’t keep you forever. Maybe we should leave you here. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to take you to Quentis.” As if he knew exactly what I was saying, his vibrant, violet eyes locked with mine, and he gave me a pleading look that reminded me so much of Evie it was uncanny. “Do you two conspire against me when I’m not looking?” He purred. “Thought so,” I muttered, giving him another scratch before setting him on the floor. I grabbed my boots from beside the folded pile of our dirty clothes, then slipped out of the room.
Sally was in the kitchen, shaping a mound of dough. The room smelled of sage and yeast and sweet smoke. My stomach growled. “Good morning.” She smiled, her cheeks rosy. “Morning.” I went to the table’s bench, pulling on my boots. “Thank you for letting us stay.” “My pleasure. We are originally from Westor, and there was always a family member or friend who’d pop by. We’d have visitors every day. It was rare for Damon and me to share an evening meal alone. But now that we’ve moved away from the city, we don’t get many guests. I’m still learning to cook for only two. It’s lovely to have you here.” “And where exactly is here?” I peered out the window, but with the house sunken into the ground, all I could see was grass and dirt. “We’re at the southern end of the Axmar Mountain range. About half a day’s ride from the Ozarth border.” Shades, no wonder my entire body ached from day after day of riding. We’d crossed nearly the entire kingdom of Turah in eight days. The Axmar Mountains acted as the border between Turah and Ozarth. It was the longest and most treacherous range in all of Calandra. And somewhere in those mountains, if I was reading Ransom’s cuff correctly, was Allesaria. “Damon always wanted to live in the countryside,” Sally said, smiling as she plopped the roll of dough into a cast-iron dish. She covered it with a lid and carried it to the hearth, sliding it onto a rack so the bread could bake. “It’s taken some getting used to. We only go to town every few months for supplies. In the winter, it will be even less. But we both thought it might be safer during the migration if we weren’t in a city full of other people. The couple who lived here before us survived two migrations.” She went to the center of the room and tapped a carpet with her foot. “There’s a tunnel here that leads to an underground cave. There’s fresh water, and we’ll stock the cellar with supplies. It’s large enough that we’ll be comfortable with the baby. By next spring, he’ll be old enough to stay underground.” Except the migration wasn’t coming next spring. The crux scout in Ellder meant the migration was months—or worse, weeks—away. The crux horde would be here before winter. “You should prepare now. Don’t wait.”
Her eyebrows came together. “But it’s not even winter.” I opened my mouth to tell her about the crux scout, but before I could warn her, Evie emerged from the bedroom, dressed in the bloody, dirty nightshirt she’d worn before her bath. “Evie, what are you wearing?” “My shirt.” She looked down at the stains, then to Sally. “Can I have my pants?” Sally nodded, moving to the line where they’d hung all night to dry. I stood and took them from her, then waved Evie into the bedroom, closing the door before kneeling in front of her with the pants in my lap. “How about we wear the clean shirt you slept in last night?” “I wanna wear this one.” “It’s too dirty.” I lifted the hem, but she pushed my hands away and stepped back. “Evie—” “This is my shirt.” The shirt marred with Zavier’s blood. “You can’t wear this, little star.” “Yes, I can.” She stomped her foot and crossed her arms. I closed my eyes, summoning strength for a fight that would hurt. “Take it off, Evangeline.” She shook her head as tears filled her big, gray eyes and she backed away. “No.” “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and this time when I reached for the shirt, I didn’t let her push me away. “I’m so sorry.” “No!” she wailed as I stripped it off of her and tossed it aside. She kicked and squirmed, fighting me every moment as I swiped the clean shirt from the floor. Her hands pushed at my jaw, and her head whipped back and forth. But somehow, I managed to get the shirt over her head. “I’m sorry.” I repeated the apology over and over, hoping she could hear me through her screams. By the time the clean shirt was on, she was a sobbing mess, her whole body shaking and limp as the fight drained from her body. “I want Papa and Luella. I wanna go home.” “I know you do.” I hauled her into my arms, rocking her in my lap. “I know.” She crumpled, burying her head in my shoulder.
As long as I lived, I’d never forget the sound of her heartbreak. It went so deep, it etched itself on my bones. The burn in my throat, the sting in my nose, was unbearable. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. Not yet. I’d have my chance to break down, but not yet. Not in front of Evie. Beyond the bedroom, the door opened and closed, Sally likely leaving to give us some privacy. The sweet smell of baking bread infused the house. A horse whinnied outside. And Evie cried and cried until finally, she slumped in my arms, hiccupping as I dried the last of her tears. When I helped her stand, she took a long look at the discarded shirt on the floor. For a moment, I expected her to try to put that shirt on again. I wouldn’t have the strength to rip it off her a second time. But she left it on the floor, her shoulders drooping, and shuffled to where Faze was licking his paws. She hefted him into her arms and carried him to the cot, curling up on the pillow with her back facing me. I didn’t blame her for being mad. I’d be angry with me, too. Snatching the filthy shirt from the floor, I left her alone and returned to the main room, where Sally’s loaf of bread was cooling on the table. The house was stifling, the air thick with grief and guilt. Gods, I needed air. I marched outside, jogging up the steps and into the field of grass. My body felt too hot, my heart beating too fast, my chest too tight. What did I do? How did I ease her pain? If only Ransom were here. She needed him. I needed him. The cool Turan air filled my lungs but did nothing to chase away the fire in my throat. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and the sting in my nose was twice as sharp as that from Voster magic. Don’t cry, Odessa. Not yet. “I lost my parents when I was a child.” Sally came to stand beside me, her gaze fixed on the snowcapped mountains in the distance. “It will take time, but eventually, she’ll find her way through the sorrow.” “She needs her mother.” My voice wobbled. “I’m a poor replacement.” “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Sally took the shirt from my hands, holding it up to the morning sunlight. “You know, we might be able to salvage this. Damon gets horrible stains when he’s working with cattle. I’ve got a soak that works wonders on dirt stains.”
“It’s not dirt. It’s her father’s blood from the night he died.” Sally didn’t so much as blink. “Well, let’s see what I can do.” If she managed to get those stains out, if she could save Evie’s shirt so my little star had a piece of home, I’d be eternally grateful. “She has a stuffed rabbit. Its name is Merry. Would you mind trying to clean it, too?” With a nod, she left me in the field and returned to the house. No sooner had her footsteps faded than a tingle crawled up my neck and the hairs on my forearms stood on end. I groaned, knowing what I’d find when I turned. One night without Voster magic wasn’t enough of a break. I scratched at my forearms, rubbing at the crawling sensation. On a sigh, I turned my back to the breathtaking view and found Brother Dime walking my way. His hands were clasped in front of him, his burgundy robes swishing in the grass and over his bare feet. He came to a stop a few paces away, bowing at the waist. “You will stay today to rest. Then you will continue on. Brother Skore will accompany you and keep you safe. I will be leaving now. The High Priest is expecting me, and I’ve delayed long enough.” “You’re leaving?” I resisted the urge to clap. With Brother Dime gone, maybe we could slip away from Skore. Escaping one priest had to be easier than two. And now that I had a better idea of where we were, Evie and I could make our way to Perris and hire a ship to take us to Quentis. “Do not test Brother Skore’s patience. Stay with him,” he warned, like he could read my thoughts. I nodded. “Of course.” Not. He studied me long enough that I started to squirm, but then he bowed again to leave. “Wait.” I held up a hand, but it was shaking so badly I dropped it to my side. “You said Ransom was loyal to the High Priest and made it seem like a fault. But you’re going to meet him?” “We all have our role to play.” Shades, these vague answers were about to make me rage. “What role are you playing? Be specific. Is Ransom in danger?” “This is not the time for questions.” “Then when? You’re leaving. This is my last chance. What do you want from me? Why couldn’t we sail to Quentis?” He turned and started walking away.
“Why did the High Priest ask about my mother? Why can I feel your magic?” I called both to his back, knowing he’d ignore them. He did. “I need to learn the old language.” That seemed to get his attention. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder, holding my gaze for three pounding heartbeats. “Brother Skore will teach you.” “How? Can he even talk?” Or was he going to teach me a nearly dead language by blowing wind gusts in my face? “He speaks when necessary.” That didn’t make me feel better. “He’s terrifying.” “Yes.” Brother Dime smiled. Well, the Voster equivalent to a smile. He looked marginally less creepy and frightening. “We will meet again, child.” “Can’t wait,” I deadpanned as he walked to the barn, where Damon emerged, leading his horse. I tilted my face to the blue sky, watching a puff of white clouds limned by yellow sunlight float by as the sound of a horse galloping away filled my ears. As it faded to nothing, I closed my eyes and traced the scar on my palm. I miss you, Ransom. Another shiver ran down my spine, like I was being watched. I turned to find Brother Skore behind me. With a gasp, I took one step, then another, putting some distance between us. He’d snuck up on me without a sound. Not a hint of his robes brushing the grass or his feet on the dirt. Could he levitate like the High Priest? The sleeves of his robes were so long they covered his fingertips, the hems fluttering in the slight breeze. He didn’t blink as he stared down at me. He didn’t so much as move. “Um, Brother Dime said you’d be taking us to Quentis.” Skore said nothing. “And he said you could teach me the old language.” Still no reply. Well, if he could speak, I guess this wasn’t one of those necessary moments. But creepy. Definitely creepy.
“I, um…” I backed away another step, hooking my thumb over my shoulder. “I’d better go check on Evie.” It took until I was in the house, sitting beside Evie at the table as she inhaled a piece of bread, to realize that the reason Brother Skore had snuck up on me was because I hadn’t felt his magic. Not a tingle. Not a prickle. Nothing. If he was weaker than other Voster, maybe there was a chance we could actually escape. We’d ride from the Axmar Mountains to the coast. If we could get to Perris, then I could find a ship to sail the Krisenth. And maybe, just maybe, find my husband. Ransom had promised to find me, here or in the shades. Well, not if I found him first. OceanofPDF.com
T Seven CASPIA he sea breeze tangled my hair into knots and flipped an errant curl into my eyes. My hands gripped the ship’s wall, my nails digging crescents into the wood as I fought the temptation to turn away from the bow and look over my shoulder to Showe. Dawn’s chill was fading as the sun lifted higher and higher above the Marixmore. My stomach was as knotted as my hair, my insides churning, not from the constant rocking of the ship on gentle waves but from the great unknown stretched across the sea. There was nothing but endless waters and clear skies. But something was out there beyond all that blue. Something calling me closer. The tug in my chest felt stronger. Steadier. Like every beat of my heart was a reminder that I was traveling in the right direction. It was exactly how Emery and Saskia had described the lure of the ritus. Divine, give me strength to endure the journey ahead. I might not be seasick, but I was already homesick. By now, Xandra would have already barged into my room, clapping twice to rouse me from bed. Had she alerted Aunt Oleana that I was gone? Had she delivered my letters? Had she read her own? Were we still in view of the city? If I turned, could I still see Nelfinex? My nails dug in deeper, to the point of pain, refusing to let me turn. We’d sailed through the moon, and I’d stayed rooted to this very spot, staring into the darkness. Even when Cap had offered to show me my quarters belowdecks, I hadn’t wanted to move. He’d promised my room had a lovely view out of the back of the ship. But I didn’t want to watch my home disappear, so I’d stayed here instead, eyes aimed forward.
“Cap!” a man shouted. “Got a problem.” A commotion stirred behind me, bootsteps thudding on the wooden boards as the sound of a struggle came from the main deck. The sound of the woman’s yelp made me stand taller. I was supposed to be the only woman on this ship. Before I’d hired Cap for this voyage, he’d made it a point to inform me that his crew was entirely male. It hadn’t been a warning, simply a statement. He’d assured me I would be safe, that these men would be respectful. I’d caught enough wary glances when I walked onto the ship that I was certain this crew had a healthy fear of the Starling. Even a Quiescent. “Let me go,” the woman ordered. No. My heart stopped. She wouldn’t dare. Except she would. I knew that voice as well as I knew my own. I released the ship’s wall and turned toward the scuffle. Two men dragged Xandra across the deck. She was dressed in black pants and a matching vest belted at the waist. A dark cloak hung loose over her arms and shoulders. Apparently, we’d both donned the same attire to sneak out of the palace. “What’s this?” Cap asked, coming down from the quarterdeck, where he’d been at the helm. “A stowaway, Cap.” One of the men gripping Xandra’s arm sneered. She could break out of that hold and have him on his back before he could blink, but she was playing nicely. Cap’s eyes narrowed as he came to a stop in front of my cousin. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, biceps flexing. Most of the men on the ship had stripped off their shirts this morning, though none were as brawny and built as Cap. He stood at least three inches above the rest, his body honed from the physical exertion it took to run this ship. “Stowaways are thrown overboard,” he told her. “Unless they can pay for passage.” Xandra’s gaze swept up and down his body, and the sly smile that stretched across her mouth made me huff a dry laugh. Cap had every right to toss her into the ocean depths. He looked like he might be tempted, too. But was she frightened? No. Not Xandra. She
looked at him and saw her next lover. “Then I guess I’ll have to pay.” She gave both of the men still caging her between them a pointed stare. After a nod from Cap, they released their holds. She flipped back the fabric of her cloak, revealing the elfalter bands wrapped around her biceps. “How many?” Cap grinned. “All of them.” “Half,” she countered. He took a step closer, bending until his nose nearly brushed hers. “All. Quiescent.” “Say please.” She snapped her teeth like she was about to bite his mouth. Cap laughed, his blue eyes locked on hers. “I say we throw her overboard.” The men clustered around them gave grunts of agreement. Xandra’s smile only widened as she stripped off her bands, placing them one by one into his wide palms. “All of them it is.” “Welcome aboard the Cirrina. Your name?” “Do you really need it?” “No.” He winked at her, then jerked his chin for the men to get back to work while he returned to the wheel. Xandra stared at Cap’s retreating form, her gaze locked on his muscled ass, before she smiled and sauntered my way. I pitied the man already. By the time we reached wherever it was we were going, she’d have crawled under his skin and into his bed. She’d probably leave here with all of her elfalter bands and his heart in her pocket. “I should order him to turn this ship around.” I crossed my arms as she ascended the stairs. “You could at least have the decency to appear guilty.” She walked straight into my space and wrapped me in a hug. “Guilty for what?” “You’re impossible.” I sighed and hugged her closer. When we finally let each other go, we went to the bow, turning our backs to the crew to talk quietly. My fingertips skimmed the wooden wall, finding the crescent grooves I’d gouged with my nails. “You should not be here, Xandra.” “Neither should you, Caspia.”
“This is my ritus.” “What if it’s my time, too?” I stared out at the ocean ahead, feeling that tug in my chest. For her sake, I hoped she felt the same call. “Is it?” “No,” she whispered. “Not yet. Maybe not ever.” “I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I’ve made peace with it. If the gift has not graced my blood, then at least I’ll take this journey with you to wherever you must go. This is more than your ritus, isn’t it? You’re going because of the vision. To seek vengeance for Emery.” “Yes.” I was too exhausted from a sleepless moon to pretend otherwise. “Then this silver-eyed man will face us both.” She took my hand, clasping it between hers. The ritus was a journey each Starling took alone. Having her along wasn’t at all customary. Aunt Oleana would insist that Xandra return to Nelfinex. But maybe our customs needed to be broken. Maybe the Divine knew we’d be stronger together. “Do you know where we’re going?” she asked. “No, but I feel it.” “So that pirate will just sail at your command?” She twisted to look over her shoulder and grinned. “I wouldn’t mind giving him a few orders myself. He is…wow. Do you want me to stay out of his bed?” I laughed, something I hadn’t thought possible this morning. “Better you sleep in his bed than crowd me in mine.” Xandra leaned in and kissed my cheek. “This is why you’re my favorite cousin.” I closed my eyes, resting my head against her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.” “Me, too.” Our quiet moment together was interrupted by a shout from one of the crewmen. “Marroweels. Starboard side. Two of them.” The crew burst into action, unhooking harpoons and spears from where they’d been mounted on the walls. Xandra and I shared an eye roll before she walked to the starboard side of the ship to lean over the wall, her arm extended toward the water.
I went to the port side, taking up a similar stance. Waves beat against the ship’s hull. The spray tickled my palm. And then sapphire scales tipped in turquoise broke from the water’s surface. The marroweel rolled along the ship, its spine dipping in and out of the water. An iridescent white fin glimmered as it caught the morning sunlight. The creature swirled, diving deep before it surged up from the depths, crashing through the surface with the bone that extended from its skull. It was a female, sleek and refined compared to her male companion. She touched my outstretched hand with her nose before diving back into the water. Then she surfaced again, once more seeking the stroke of my palm. My cousin’s laugh sounded across the deck as the male marroweel on the other side of the ship came up for a playful nudge against Xandra’s hand. “Starling,” one of the men whispered from over my shoulder. Not Starling. Not yet. But Starling blood filled our veins. And after the ritus, that blood would let us take on the shape of any creature in the world, including this beautiful ocean beast. The sailors were smart to fear the marroweels and their five rows of razor-sharp teeth. But their weapons wouldn’t be necessary, not with Xandra and me aboard this ship. The Divine had bonded our bloodline to the creatures of this world. I’d never once feared an animal, no matter how dangerous they might be. The marroweel returned again, her scales rippling as she rolled them against my hand. “Swim free, beauty,” I murmured as she dropped below the waves, not to surface again. Then I turned from the wall, shaking the water from my hand, the droplets landing on the deck. The crew, all armed and ready for battle, stared at Xandra and me with slackened jaws and stunned expressions. Cap stood behind them, his gaze locked on Xandra. A coy smile played on his lips. They were going to be insufferable, weren’t they? Divine willing, my quarters did not share a wall with his. He let out a short whistle. “Back to work.” The men obeyed, and as they stowed their weapons, I returned to the bow, closing my eyes and letting the sun warm my face.
“Do you think Emery turned into a marroweel to swim alongside Max’s ship?” Xandra asked. “No.” I smiled. “She loves to fly too much.” “I hate flying,” Xandra said on a dry laugh. “I can’t believe I said that out loud, but it’s true. I hate it. Hara took me once. She laughed the entire time, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted the ground beneath my feet. If I ever go through the ritus, I want to change into something with a little more bite.” “A marroweel?” I asked. “Depends on how things go with your pirate.” She gave me a mischievous grin. “Oh, I think he’s your pirate now.” “Was it intentional, choosing Max’s brother?” I scrunched up my nose. “I didn’t think you’d notice.” “Please.” She huffed. “Give me some credit. They look exactly alike. Are you hoping Max might have told Cap where he and Emery went?” “Yes,” I admitted. “That, and Cap agreed to do this without many questions.” “Do you think he’s searching for Max while you’re looking for Emery?” “It’s possible.” Xandra tapped her fingers on the ship’s wall. “Let’s say your vision is wrong. That Emery wasn’t killed by the silver-eyed warrior. And let’s say that we find her and Max.” I didn’t like the seriousness in her voice. Or where she was going with this hypothetical scenario. “What if she doesn’t want to leave him? What if she refuses to come home?” “I pray to the Divine my vision is wrong,” I told her. “But if it’s not, and if she won’t return with us, then I don’t know. I hope, for Graciella’s sake, she does.” I hoped, for Graciella’s sake, that Aunt Oleana was wrong about Max’s influence over Emery. Oleana believed Max had corrupted Emery’s fidelity to the Starling. That he’d poisoned her mind against our family and traditions. Maybe my aunt was right. Max was not Graciella’s father, nor was he Nelfinex. He was from Beesa, and though he’d left his homeland as a child when his parents
deserted their country, they were our sworn rivals. I had faith that Emery would not be deceived by a handsome face. She was five summers older than me and had always shared Oleana’s pragmatism. She was realistic and logical in almost every way, usually agreeing with our aunt on most topics. The only exception was my visions. When I was five, I dreamed of a theft in the palace. A man disguised as a Royal Blade had stolen one of the bejeweled elfalter eggs on display in the queen’s auditorium. The robbery had been such a shock that the entire castle had been abuzz. I’d told Emery of my vision and described the man. He had a long, jagged scar that cut from his ear across his cheek. When my aunt’s Blades caught the thief, he had that scar. When I was twelve, Saskia was called to her ritus. Two lunes after she left, she still hadn’t returned. We’d all begun to fear that the rite had taken her life. Then I’d had a vision of my sister in the desert, flying over the western sands. She returned two suns later. Other visions had come and gone, some I could prove and others I could not. But Emery had always believed I had a special gift to see glimpses of the past. She believed my visions were more than mere dreams. It was the only thing I’d ever seen her argue with Aunt Oleana about. Then Max came into her life. And the arguments became a constant. I didn’t blame Emery for needing an escape. But I wished Graciella had not lost a mother. I wished I still had my older sister. “Do you think she went to find the swift’s mating grounds?” Xandra asked. “She was always curious where they went. Maybe that’s where she met the silver-eyed warrior.” “It is forbidden.” “All the more reason that she might have gone there. Simply to spite Oleana.” Every generation, the swift left Nelfinex to breed. They flew across the Marixmore and returned to lay their eggs. The swift were only born once every thirty summers. The mystery of where they went to breed was one never solved. Maybe they simply flew to the edge of our world and back. The few times a Starling had attempted to follow the flock, the shifters had never returned. In my lifetime, it had always been forbidden.
“But Emery didn’t leave during their migration,” I said. “She wouldn’t know which direction to fly.” “Unless Max had an idea.” The Starling weren’t the only ones curious where the swift migrated. If they’d found a place unknown beyond the horizon, it might be an opportunity for the Beesan king to expand his tyranny to a foreign land. “I don’t know what to think about Emery. All I know is that I mourn for her. And in my heart, it feels as if she’s gone.” “Then our quest remains unchanged. Vengeance.” I nodded. “Vengeance.” The silver-eyed warrior’s suns were numbered. A yawn stretched my mouth as a fresh wave of exhaustion crashed against me like water against the ship. Xandra put her hand on my shoulder. “You should get some rest.” “What about you?” “I also need some rest.” She batted her eyelashes, then turned to scan the deck. “I guess that means I’ll have to talk to that pretty pirate about my sleeping arrangements.” OceanofPDF.com
“‘A Eight ODESSA man with golden hair stands on a…’” I studied the next word in the book, trying to translate it from the old language. “Clelvi’if-selfayd.” Brother Skore urged his horse closer, peering at the page. The sting of his magic was worth his help in translating this journal. “Cliffside.” “Cliffside,” I repeated. “Got it.” With a grunt, the priest moved away. Skore had begrudgingly agreed to teach me the old language, and for the past three days, if he wasn’t instructing or correcting me, he was his normal, silent self. We’d started deciphering this journal the day Brother Dime left Damon and Sally’s house. The lessons were short—not only was there a limit to how long I could stand being around his magic, but Brother Skore seemed equally bothered by my company. Though not bothered enough to leave us alone so we could escape. Since we’d left the cabin, the only time he gave Evie and me space was so we could relieve ourselves in the trees—he made sure to always keep Freya in those moments. So while I bided my time and waited for an opening to bolt, I was learning the old language. Thankfully, it wasn’t all that complicated. It was more of a dialect that Calandrans had shortened and simplified over time. We’d made it nearly halfway through this journal, and I stumbled over words less and less frequently. There was a music to the old language, a cadence I’d started to hear when I read it aloud or whispered phrases to myself. Mostly, I struggled with the handwriting in the journal. Some pages were clear and crisp, the elegant, swirling scrawl a work of art. But on
others, the writing was sloppy and smudged. The pages were wrinkled, too, like Luella had spent more time studying some than others. “‘A man with golden hair stands on a cliffside,’” I continued. “‘A ship is anchored in an ocean bay, the waves rocking it back and forth. Seven circles of women sit huddled together on the deck, their heads bent in quiet prayer. But one woman with unbound red hair stands apart from the others. She keeps post at the stern, watching as the last rowboat of her sisters pushes away from a sandy beach beneath the cliffs. Only when those women are aboard, nestled in their own prayer circle, does the woman look to the golden-haired man. The call to raise the anchor rings out, mingling with the caw of seabirds. Tears stream down her face. The man stands on the cliffside until the sun sets, crying for his beloved as she sails into the unknown.’” Like most of the tales in this book, the story was short. But reading it took forever as I paused to interpret the sentences and squint at the illegible sections of script. Cathlin had said the book read almost like a person’s dreams. Like Sonnet’s Ninety. I wished my friend was here to talk about it with me. To help me understand how Luella had taken inspiration from these tales to create an elixir that contributed to the most deadly and dangerous infection our continent had ever known. Was Cathlin alive? Had she survived the night of the crux in Ellder? Gods, I hoped so. I signed the Eight, praying that one day, we’d meet again. “Do you think she ever came back to the man with golden hair?” Evie asked, staring at the journal in my hands. “I think so.” Evie thought about it for a moment. “Me too.” In truth, I had no idea if they had ever seen each other again. But right now, I needed to believe in lovers reunited. That the man had found his beloved before they went to the shades. “I’m hungry,” Evie muttered, looking to Brother Skore. “Can we stop?” He didn’t reply. That meant no. “That means no,” Evie mumbled, making me laugh. Day by day, she was clawing her way back to herself. We still had plenty of tears and sad moments, but my brave, sassy girl was breaking
through her sorrow. “When we get to Quentis, you’ll get to meet Arthalayus,” I said, hoping to distract Evie from her hunger. “Who’s that?” “My brother. We call him Arthy. He’s about your age, and I bet you’ll be friends.” It was a small hope for us both. We were clinging to small hopes at the moment. Anything to look forward to. Anything to keep us going until we reached Quentis. I closed the journal and tucked it into my satchel. I’d learned the hard way that reading too much while riding meant a miserable headache and dizzy spells. “How about another story? One I read about in a book of myths and legends? Did Cathlin ever tell you the tale of Sora?” “No. Who’s Sora?” “Sora was a woman who sailed across the realm. She was gone for one hundred years, and when she returned, she brought with her creatures we’d never seen before.” “What kind of creatures?” Evie twisted to look up at me. “Animals? Or monsters?” “Monsters,” I whispered. “In Sora’s story, they were created by a powerful god. A god we don’t know. And she brought them to Calandra.” Evie gave me a sideways stare. “Luella told me that monsters were created by the Six.” “They were.” “But who is this other god? What’s his name?” “I’m not sure. I only know of the Eight. Maybe his name was Harry. Or Hank. Or Herman.” “Herman?” Evie dissolved into a fit of giggles that filled my heart. “Okay, maybe not Herman.” Sora’s legend was just a story, likely a farfetched children’s tale. But if it earned me a laugh, then I’d spend hours listing silly names for a make- believe god. “I bet Luella would know. She knows lots.” Evie faced forward and hummed. “I miss Luella.” “I miss her, too.” Keeping Luella’s death a secret felt more and more like a lie, but I couldn’t bear to add more to Evie’s grief, not yet.
Evie didn’t even know she’d lost her mother. To her, Luella had always been a caregiver and a teacher. When the time came to tell her the whole truth, I wanted it to come from Ransom. There were secrets upon secrets wrapped in this girl’s identity. She had no idea that Ransom was her brother. That she was the daughter of the king and queen of Turah. And she didn’t know that Zavier was not her real father. Hell, Zavier wasn’t even his name. It was Dray. Dray was Ransom’s cousin, and because of their resemblance, he’d been the prince’s royal double for over a decade. Yet I couldn’t seem to make myself think of him by any other name than Zavier. The name might have been given to Ransom, but it belonged to his cousin. Zavier was the man I’d thought I’d married. Zavier had introduced himself to my father as the crown prince. Zavier was Ransom’s most loyal ranger. But he was not a prince, nor was he Evie’s father. That was King Ramsey, a man I loathed with every fiber of my being. Someday, Evie would need to know the truth. But I was in no hurry for that day to come. Not when it meant she’d lose her papa all over again. “Do you think we’ll ever see Damon and Sally again?” she asked, tearing me from my thoughts. “I hope so.” And I hoped someday, we could pay them back for their kindness and hospitality. Sally had made sure our bellies were full, and she’d managed to get most of the bloodstains out of Evie’s shirt—only a hint of discoloration remained. Even Merry, the fuzzy rabbit with floppy ears, looked as good as new. Damon had spoiled Freya, giving her grain and a bath. He’d found a set of saddlebags so that I didn’t have to carry everything in my satchel. And when it was time for us to go, they’d sent us on our way with spare clothes, food, and canteens for water. Without gold or coin, the only way I’d been able to repay them for their generosity was with a warning. As I bid Damon farewell, I’d told him about the crux scout and urged him to prepare for the migration sooner rather than later.
The day we left their cabin, we rode around the southernmost tip of the Axmar Mountains. That night was the last I’d slept beneath the Turan sky. We’d crossed into Ozarth today and had since been traveling along the other side of the Axmars. The landscape was much the same as it had been, an evergreen forest at the base of towering, jagged mountains. But it wasn’t Turah, and all day, I’d had this nagging feeling that we were going the wrong way. We were too far from home. And to get to Quentis, we had a long, long way to go. Evie tipped sideways, holding on to the saddle’s horn as she craned her neck to stare up at the trees. She scrunched up her nose. “What?” I asked at the same time I caught an acrid scent. “Brother Skore, is that smoke?” He lifted a finger to his thin lips, then veered off our current path, riding through the trees. The scent grew stronger as we followed. Past trunks and limbs, a slight haze rose in the distance. Skore was leading us straight toward it. “Is that a good idea?” I whisper-yelled. He kept riding. I frowned, gritting my teeth as we followed him toward the smoke. It got thicker and thicker, enough to singe my nostrils and make Evie cough. Then, with a gust of magical wind, it was gone, floating up past treetops and into the azure sky. With the smoke cleared, a fire came into view, orange flames bright against the brown-and-green landscape. A loud pop boomed off the trees, followed by a constant crackle. A woman with stringy gray hair tossed a heaping pile of pine needles on a blaze built as tall as Brother Skore. She wore a dingy tan dress that might have once been white. The sleeves were gone, cut off at the shoulders to reveal thin arms and pink, wrinkled skin. She stared at the fire as a cloud of gray smoke billowed, oblivious to us riding up behind her. Another pop snapped her out of her trance, and she hurried to a nearby blanket, swaying as she walked. She dropped to a seat beside a wicker basket, a pail of water, and a knife. Brother Skore held up a hand for me to stop as we drew close enough to feel the heat from the fire. He dismounted his horse, tossing me the reins as
he walked toward her. The woman finally noticed him. The corners of her mouth turned down as she looked at the Voster and extended an arm. There was blood on her wrist, two dark streams trickling from twin puncture wounds. Brother Skore took a step closer, but she waved him away and twisted to remove the lid on the wicker basket. With her uninjured arm, she lifted out a rope. No, not a rope. A snake. Evie tensed in front of me, her body leaning deeper into mine. The reptile didn’t coil or slither or worm to get away, because, as I saw when she finished lifting it from the basket, it was missing its head. “Where there is poison, there is a cure.” The woman set the snake’s body in her lap and faced the fire. “It’s not hot enough.” My stomach dropped. Not because of her wound or the dead snake, but because I knew this. I knew what happened next. It was a tale I’d translated from Luella’s book the first night after my first lesson in the old language from Skore. Once the woman deemed the fire hot enough, she’d throw the snake’s body at the edge of the blaze. And after it was charred and black, she’d take the blistered, charred skin and apply it to the bite. Where there is poison, there is a cure. “Gods,” I murmured, unable to tear my attention away from the woman as she waited until the pine needles were ash and the flames grew so hot Freya shied away. My eyes watered from the shock and smoke. Just as I’d read about in that journal, the woman forced herself to her feet, staggering as she walked to the fire. The heat from the flames blew back her hair, singeing the fragile ends. With both hands, she tossed the snake’s body into the base of the fire. Her legs tangled in the skirt of her dress as she backed away, but somehow, she managed not to fall. Without taking her eyes from the burning snake, she went to the blanket and retrieved the knife and pail of water. She waited one breath before rushing toward the fire, so quickly I feared she’d fall into the flames.
Brother Skore must have thought the same. He reached for her, but she was already on her knees, slicing away the snake’s crispy skin. “Close your eyes.” I reached to cover Evie’s eyes, but her hands were already there. She twisted, burying her face in my chest as I cupped my hands over her ears. I pressed hard, hoping to block out the old woman’s agonizing scream as she laid the snake’s skin on her arm, her flesh sizzling from its heat. She sank down on the dirt, sobbing as she endured the pain. Then, when she’d had enough, she plunged her arm into the pail. The noise from the fire was too loud for me to hear the hiss of steam, but I saw the brief puff of white before it evaporated. In the story from the journal, the woman lived on for years, surviving a bite that should have killed her. She taught her granddaughter about poisons and cures. She wore the wrinkled, mottled scar on her forearm with pride. But the story told nothing of how Brother Skore hauled her away from the fire, laying her on the blanket. How he soothed the burn by summoning water from a nearby tree and encasing her injury in ice. The only Voster I’d seen conjure ice was the High Priest. Who exactly was this traveling companion of mine? Where did he rank in power with the brotherhood? I’d thought he was weaker than Dime when I hadn’t been able to feel his magic, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe he had a stronger leash on his powers. He left the woman, asleep on the blanket, as the flames began to subside, the fire already collapsing in on itself. As he walked to his horse, he didn’t spare her a backward glance. If not for that journal, I would have refused to leave her side. But she would live. I knew it down to my bones. Without a word, I followed Skore as he turned his horse around, retreating from the fire and back into the forest. By the time my head stopped spinning, I could no longer smell the smoke except for the scent that lingered in my hair and clothes. “Brother Skore, I read—” He silenced me with a raised hand and tapped the pointed shell of his ear. It was as colorless as his skin and shaped closely to his head. I closed my mouth, straining to hear whatever had caught his attention.
Click. Click. Click. Terror, cold and paralyzing, ran through my veins. My heart stopped. No. Freya tensed. Faze squirmed in his carrier like he knew exactly what those clicks meant. Bariwolves. “No.” I tightened my grip on both Evie and Freya’s reins. Brother Skore’s lip curled. “They’re hunting us.” “Dess?” Evie whimpered. “Oh, gods. What do we do?” “Ride. Hard.” He pointed forward. “Go. Now.” “Hold tight,” I told Evie, then with a tap of my heels to Freya’s flank, I gave my horse her head. She took off running, picking up speed as we weaved through trees, my heart pounding as loudly as her hooves. I risked a quick glance over my shoulder to see Skore following behind, his light-blue robes whipping around him. It was all too familiar and all too unwelcome. We were exposed, and this time, it wasn’t a grizzur chasing us but a pack of wolves. “Dess!” Evie cried as a streak of black came out of nowhere, the wolf emerging from the trees, teeth bared. Shades, it was huge. The top of its back was as high as the bottom of my saddle. No matter how many times I saw the monsters, their size, their teeth, and their claws always took me by surprise. The front half of the beast was covered in black fur molded over powerful muscle. Its rear half was covered in scales, each with a protruding, razor-sharp spine. These were monsters designed by the Six for one purpose and one purpose only. Death. I clicked my tongue and urged Freya faster, using every bit of strength to keep Evie and myself in the saddle with Faze squeezed in between. The bariwolf changed course, running alongside us. With every stride, its spines contracted and flexed, and I knew that if we got too close, they’d slice into Freya’s flesh. I steered her away, hoping it was enough distance. And only then did I realize the monster was playing with its food.
It was herding us. It took me a moment too long to realize the bariwolf was pushing me toward another member of its pack. The other monster came racing for us on our other side, trapping us in the middle. “No,” I cried, searching for any way to break us free. My hands were full. There was no way for me to reach for my sword, not without dropping the reins, Evie, or both. All I could do was hold tight and ride. A blast of wind so powerful it nearly flung me forward whipped past my shoulder, slamming into the oncoming bariwolf. The beast lost its footing and rolled three times, slamming into a tree trunk. Its fur and scales were covered in dirt and needles, but it scrambled to its feet, its black eyes still locked on us as we sprinted ahead and into the forest. Brother Skore sent another blast of wind to the bariwolf still giving chase, but it only faltered a step before it kept coming. I rode as hard as I could, my eyes watering from the wind and tears. A gap in the trees ahead gave me hope that we might have a chance to break away. Except three more monsters appeared, coming from the exact place we were racing. A pack of five. We were dead. Freya came to a skidding stop, rearing up so quickly we nearly toppled out of the saddle. It was only Evie’s hold on the horn and my hold on her that managed to keep us seated until Freya was back on all fours. The bariwolf on our heels growled and lunged, but the moment its feet were no longer on the ground, Skore sent another blast of wind that knocked the beast off its trajectory and sent it flying to the side. I yanked on the reins, steering Freya away from the oncoming wolves and kicking her back to a run. When bariwolves had attacked in Ellder, the High Priest had killed them with spears of ice. We needed spears. We needed anything, because this wind of Skore’s was not working. We raced through the trees, and I didn’t dare look back for fear the monsters would be right behind us. I kept riding, faster and harder, until the forest seemed to disappear ahead, opening to nothing but sky. Dirt and earth
turned to rock, and I managed to pull Freya to a stop before she took us careening over a sheer ledge. The drop wasn’t all that far. It would be like jumping from a house’s roof. But I knew we’d never stay on Freya, and if we fell, the wolves would pounce. Brother Skore stopped at my side, staring over the ledge. He must have come to the same conclusion because we turned our horses around at the same time. Five snarling bariwolves prowled our way, their ears pinned and teeth bared. If we’d been trapped before, we were fucked now. “Save us, Oda,” I prayed, a tear sliding down my cheek. Even if I drew my sword and dagger, there was no way I’d be able to fight five monsters. Gods, I hated that this would be our end. That Evie would feel pain. That I wouldn’t see Ransom’s face one last time. “I love you, little star.” I dropped the reins and wound my arms around her, holding her close. “I’m sorry.” “I love you, Dess,” she cried, her shoulders shaking as she clung to me. “Praise Ama. Beloved Mother,” I prayed, “bring us to your shores of starlight. Grant us quick deaths, Izzac, and let us know peace, dear Carine. Give our love to those we leave behind, Arabella, and take us quietly into your shade.” I held tighter to Evie and Faze, closing my eyes as I waited for the strike. But it never came. And a heartbeat later, the growling stopped. I sat straighter, opening my eyes to see Brother Skore’s arms stretched wide. He splayed his fingers, and something changed with the wolves. They seemed to withdraw. Or try to withdraw. They were frozen in place, like statues pinned to the earth. Brother Skore murmured something I couldn’t understand, and then a wounded howl came from the pack. One of the wolves collapsed, its legs curling as it writhed on the ground. Two more dropped, then the fourth and fifth. Their whimpers and screams were born of pure, undiluted pain as thin streams began to trickle from their eyes and nostrils and mouths.
Blood. It didn’t pool on the ground or seep from their bodies. It formed a web in the air, veins that floated and twined as they flowed toward a single source. Brother Skore. “By the mother.” I held Evie’s face to my chest, keeping her eyes hidden as I watched, unable to look away. The Voster leeched the monsters’ blood, drawing it from every opening in their bodies. Thin, viscous rivers flowed past his outstretched hands and over his head, the horror disappearing somewhere over the ledge. The bariwolves kicked and twitched as their bodies were sucked wholly dry. Skore didn’t stop until the monsters lay lifeless on the ground, eyes empty and sunken. Five husks. Only then did the blood stop flowing. The last drops floated overhead. The last green drops. Those monsters were infected with Lyssa. It had spread to Ozarth. After everything Ransom’s rangers had done to keep the infection from moving past Turah’s borders, it hadn’t worked. And if Lyssa had made it this far, it was only a matter of time before the infection stretched across Calandra. His worst fears were about to come true. When the crux came, it was inevitable that they’d be bitten. They were vicious without Lyssa. With it? It could mark the end of our realm. Even if we found a cure, it might be too late. The notion was as terrifying as the Voster at my side. I stared at Skore, unable to speak. A shiver rolled down my spine, and the shock of what I’d just witnessed dulled some of the sting of his magic. “Do all Voster have that power?” Brother Skore dropped his arms, not answering. His shoulders slumped as he heaved a breath. But whatever exhaustion he felt was short-lived. He held my gaze for only a moment before he sat tall and urged his horse forward, riding past the monsters left to decay. My stomach lurched. “Who are you?” I whispered. A gust of wind hit my back.
It was answer enough. OceanofPDF.com
M Nine CASPIA y fingertips traced the crescent grooves in the ship’s wall. They were deeper now from so many moons spent at the bow, staring out over the water. And their once rough edges had been smoothed by my constant touch. Hopefully, when this voyage was over, Cap wouldn’t be too angry that I’d marked the Cirrina. The two moons hung low in the sky, their light dimming as dawn neared. It had been suns and suns since we’d left Nelfinex, and we had yet to see land. Yet still, the ritus called, as steady a beat as my heart. The harsh clip of boots on the deck behind me was my only warning before Cap appeared at my side. His jaw was still clenched, and he looked as angry this morning as he’d been last moon. The linen fabric of his shirt pulled tight over his wide shoulders and muscled arms. It had grown colder the farther we’d sailed, and the suns of the crew going shirtless were gone. “Good morning.” Maybe some cheer would defuse his anger. “We’re turning back,” he barked, crossing his arms over his chest. So much for cheer. On a sigh, I turned away from the sea and squared my shoulders for a repeat argument with the pirate. “Not yet.” “There is nothing out here, Princess.” He stretched an arm over the ship’s wall, shaking a pointed finger at the endless expanse of waves and water. “This is the farthest I have ever sailed from Kenn, and there is nothing.” “There is. I can feel it.” The pull of the ritus was getting stronger and stronger each passing sun. “I don’t give a damn what you can feel. We’ve been sailing according to your feelings for too long. We’re past the halfway point on our rations. If
we don’t turn back now, you’ll condemn us all to death.” “One more sun.” “No. We turn back now.” I shook my head. “One more sun.” “You’ve said that three suns in a row.” “Yes, I have. Please, just give me one more. Tomorrow, I won’t argue.” I pressed my fingertips to my forehead. “You have my vow.” He frowned. “Your vow will mean very little when we die of thirst.” “You may have my water rations for your crew.” “It won’t be enough.” “It might. And it could rain.” “By the grace of the Divine,” he muttered, running a hand over the beard he’d grown during our time at sea. Surrounded by water and yet we were running short. Cap wouldn’t place the blame on Xandra, not after all the time they’d spent together, sharing his bed. The man was entirely infatuated with my pretty cousin. But she was another person on this ship who needed food and water. A person who they had not planned on having for this journey. The food shortage had been an easy enough problem to solve. The men fished to replenish the stores. But fresh water was not as easy to come by without rain, and the barrels stored belowdecks were beginning to wane. We needed a storm. Or we needed to reach land. Was this the direction Emery had gone with Max? Cap didn’t know where his brother had taken my sister. But there had to be something out here. We couldn’t turn back, not yet. “Please. One more sun?” He growled. “One. Tomorrow, I will not ask.” I sighed. “Thank you.” Cap muttered something under his breath before he marched away, barking orders at a crew as grumpy as their leader. We were all more than ready to get off this ship. I covered a yawn as Xandra joined me at the bow, taking Cap’s space. She leaned her elbows on the wall and stared at the horizon. We were dressed the same, in charcoal pants and vests. It was cool enough this morning that she’d donned one of Cap’s jackets. “Did you sleep?” she asked. “No.”
Sleep had become a luxury as of late. Visions plagued me the moment I closed my eyes, nearly every moon. The people and places I saw were unfamiliar, and the visions came so frequently that the details were beginning to blend together. All I wanted was for them to stop. “What did you see?” Xandra asked. “There was a boy sitting on a floor. He had silky black hair and eyes so dark they shone blue. All around him were books. He picked one up and tossed it into the air. But the book didn’t fall. It floated higher and higher.” “Floating books?” Xandra raised her eyebrows. I nodded. “Floating books. Maybe that one was just a dream and my imagination running wild.” “Did it feel like a dream?” “No.” There was a realism to the visions that made them sharp and clear. Dreams had fuzzy edges, and the moment I woke, they began to fade. The visions lingered like memories. “Then I had a vision of a young man in a forest. He was hunting with a bow and arrow. His cloak was as green as the trees. He came across a golden cat snared in a trap. The trap’s teeth had pinned the beast’s leg and severed its toe. No matter how hard the cat struggled, it couldn’t get free. The man approached the cat, and the beast whipped its barbed tail, warning him away. It hissed, flashing sharp, black teeth. But the beast had been trapped for suns, and its strength was fading.” I’d never seen an animal like the cat from my vision. There were rumors of golden cats that lived in the southern countries in Kenn, but beasts like the one in my vision didn’t roam the Nelfinex wilds. Its coat was leathery and sleek, the color as pure and vivid as the yellow light of sunset. “It collapsed,” I continued. “And when the man approached, it did not struggle or try to fight. He pried open the trap and backed away with his hands lifted in surrender and peace. The cat did not attack him, but before it wandered off, it nudged its own severed toe toward him. Then it disappeared into the forest. The man took the black claw and wore it around his neck.” I’d seen him return home from that hunt to his lovely young wife. I’d watched as he became a father to an adorable boy with brown eyes and curly black hair. The man spent his life smiling until he eventually grew old, his black braids speckled with gray.
“He wore the claw for the entirety of his life. He was never sick or feeble. He was never in pain. Then one sun, he gave the claw necklace to his grown son. The father then left his home to explore a nearby forest. He sat down beside a tree to rest and died.” “So this golden cat’s claw prolonged the man’s life?” Xandra asked. “Possibly. Or maybe it kept him strong. Or maybe it was just a claw he wore around his neck as an ornament. I don’t know. I don’t know what any of these visions mean.” A crease formed between her eyebrows. “It is the ritus. It has to be.” “Or too many suns aboard this ship have addled my mind.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Tomorrow, Cap is turning us back.” “I’m impressed. You talked him into another sun?” “More like begged. We’re close. I can feel it.” Xandra exhaled, looping her arm with mine. “I can feel it, too.” My face whipped to hers. “You feel it? The ritus?” A shy smile spread across her mouth. “I feel it. Finally. It’s strange. I can feel the very blood moving through my body. It’s urging me forward. And there’s a different beat in my chest, like another heart.” “A thrum.” She nodded. “Yes. It feels like a reward for going in the right direction. Even the idea of turning around…” “Hurts.” That gentle, soothing strum vanished, and in its place was a sharp twist. An ache so uncomfortable it would be impossible to ignore. The ritus called, and we were driven to answer. “I made Cap a vow. This sun is the last. Then we must turn back. He’s worried about the crew.” “You made a vow. I did not.” Her smile widened. “If we need more time, we’ll see how persuasive I can be.” “My biggest regret is not packing cotton for my ears.” She laughed, her cheeks turning pink as she glanced behind us to where Cap stood at the stern. “He is incredible. Did I tell you that his cock is pierced along the shaft? Divine, it feels good.” “Stop. Now. I beg you,” I groaned. “It’s bad enough sharing a wall with his quarters.” She laughed again, louder and carefree. It had been a long time since I’d heard her laugh without restraint. Either Cap and this relationship of theirs was more than a way to entertain themselves on this journey, or it was the relief that the ritus had finally called. Probably both.
A T “You and Cap. It’s more than a tryst, isn’t it?” She shrugged. Yes, it was more. I leaned my head on her shoulder, another yawn pulling at my mouth. “You should try to sleep,” she said. “Okay.” Maybe I was finally so exhausted that I’d crash. I let go of Xandra’s arm and made my way to my quarters. The room was cramped with a small bed and chest where I stashed my few belongings. After pulling off my boots, I settled on top of my thin quilt, closing my eyes as I relaxed into the pillow. Sleep came easy. So did the vision. … man with brown hair and a broad frame sits astride a bay stallion. In front of him in the saddle is a young girl with gray eyes. She smiles up at him and beckons him closer. Once she has his ear, she whispers something that makes them both laugh. Still smiling, he urges the horse forward with a tap of his heels. The pair rides away, trotting through swaying grasses, weaving a path toward indigo mountains capped in white. … he sound of the girl’s laugh echoed in my ears as I stirred awake. The final frame of the vision lingered like a portrait painted on the wooden ceiling. I’d never seen mountains so blue or tall. They towered into the sky with jagged peaks. What was the white on their tips? Sand? Or rock? The landscape of this vision was familiar from others. But the man and the girl were entirely new. He was handsome, with a chiseled jaw and straight nose. The girl was one of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. Something about her reminded me
of Graciella. Maybe it was that they looked to be about the same age, six or seven summers. Maybe the familiarity was the girl’s infectious laugh. Graciella’s laugh never ceased to make me smile. I pressed a hand over my heart as it ached for my niece. For my home. Even for my aunt. Was Oleana angry at us? Was she worried? Already, we’d been gone far longer than was normal for a ritus. Had she dismissed us like she had Emery? Or was she still holding out hope that we would return as Starling? The thrum in my veins surged so strong it pulled me up to a seat. It swelled higher and higher until my chest felt so full, I could barely breathe. Thrum. Thrum. Thrum. I lifted off the bed, like invisible wings pulled me to my feet. To my toes. My arms floated up at my sides, weightless. My fingertips tingled. My gasp filled the room. And the thrum went quiet. I sank to my heels, frozen as I waited for it to return, but it was gone. My gaze shot to the ceiling as a shout came from above. A single word that explained why the pull was gone. “Land.” OceanofPDF.com
B Ten ODESSA rother Skore added another branch to our campfire, sending orange sparks into the night. They vanished beneath the bright glow of the twin moons. He sat cross-legged on the other side of the flames, his robes spread out around and beneath him. He placed his wrists on his knees and opened his palms to the starry sky as he closed his eyes. Was that how the Voster slept? Tonight was the first time he’d stayed close after dark, and though the sting of his magic made it impossible for me to sleep, I was grateful for his protection. Evie was asleep, draped over my side, while Faze had claimed the other. After the bariwolf attack today, the ride to our camping site had been a blur. It had taken hours for my hands to stop trembling and for Evie to stop shaking. When the fright finally started to fade, a bone-deep exhaustion had taken its place. When Brother Skore stopped riding, informing us we’d camp here for the night, I’d practically slid off Freya’s back. Shades, I was tired. Sore. Cranky. Scared. Was it my fault the monsters had hunted us? Were they drawn to us in the forest because of whatever was wrong with me, the thing that made my eyes gold and allowed me to feel Voster magic? If I asked Brother Skore, he might give me an honest answer for a change. An answer I wasn’t quite ready to hear. Now what? As much as I wanted to escape Skore, his display of magic today was something I couldn’t ignore. If he could leech the blood from those monsters, what was stopping him from doing that to Freya? To Faze? To Evie?
Just the thought made my stomach roil. So much for making an escape. But I couldn’t risk them. And if not for Skore, we’d all be bariwolf food. I closed my eyes, tracing the scar on my palm. Where was Ransom tonight? Was he on his way to Quentis? Had he already reached the coast and hired a ship to sail the Krisenth? Gods, I only hoped that he wasn’t hurt, trapped in the infirmary in Ellder and fighting for his life. The not knowing was beginning to fester like a putrid wound, growing and sucking away hope with every passing day. He’s alive. Every time I began to doubt he was alive, I’d say it over and over again in my mind. He’s alive. “By the grace…” Brother Skore’s murmur made me open my eyes. His words were so low I couldn’t make out the rest of his prayer. His lips and tapered chin moved, but otherwise, his body was entirely motionless. His chest didn’t even seem to rise and fall as he breathed. It felt like an intrusion, watching as he prayed, so I stared into the fire as a yawn tugged at my mouth. “You should sleep.” Skore’s dark-green eyes were waiting when I glanced up. “Who do you pray to?” “The Divine.” “Oda?” There were some who considered the Father the greatest of all the gods, though I preferred to speak to Ama, the Mother. “No. The Divine.” “Is that a god?” “There is only one god, girl.” A chill raked down my spine, and I fought the urge to sign the Eight. Was this god of his the deity who’d granted him such extraordinary powers? That allowed him to manipulate wind and water and blood? To suck the life out of a monster by his own sheer will? Another shiver trickled over my shoulders, and I pulled Faze closer for his warmth. “There is a story in that journal written in the old language about a woman and a snake. It’s told exactly how it happened today. How is it possible that I read a story before witnessing it with my own eyes?”
I Skore held up a finger, twirling it in a small spiral. The smoke from the fire mimicked the motion, swirling above. “Magic?” I guessed. “No. By the grace of the Divine.” “I don’t know what that means.” I sighed, too tired to be angry or annoyed. “You and Brother Dime share the same talent for answering questions without actually giving answers.” He sent a puff of smoke into my face. I batted it away and glared across the fire. “Where are we going?” “Orson Canyon,” he said. It felt precious, asking a question and getting an answer. Like a gift. Too bad I didn’t have a godsdamn clue where Orson Canyon was. t took four days to reach Orson Canyon. The endless hours of riding through the forest meant those four days blended together with nothing to set them apart, and I was so tired of staring at trees, I could scream. The rocky canyon would have been a welcome change of scenery except for the fact that it was creepy as hell. We rode through a narrow channel bordered by sheer rock walls that towered above us. It was as if Oda had struck the earth with all his might, cleaving it in two. There were stretches of the gorge where we had to ride single file and the tips of my boots skimmed along the cliffs. The light was dim but not dark. Was the Evon Ravine like this? I’d never traveled to the gulch that separated Quentis from Genesis, but it was said to be terrifying and as black as death at the bottom. Brother Skore rode ahead of us, his body swaying with the movement of his horse. In such a tight space, his magic should have been punishing. I should have been able to feel it zinging off these rock walls. But from the moment we entered the canyon, the stinging had stopped. It should have been refreshing, except I couldn’t stop worrying about why I couldn’t feel his magic. Was he channeling it somehow? Stockpiling it up to use later? Could the Voster even do that? I nudged Freya to get closer, hoping it would encourage Skore to pick up the pace. But he seemed entirely unbothered by the fact that we were
A trapped. We could be attacked by monsters and have nowhere to run. Though I guess he wouldn’t be afraid, not when he could suck the blood from every living creature in his presence, myself included. “I don’t like this place,” Evie said, struggling to sit still. “I don’t, either.” I shivered, gritting my teeth against the sensation that the walls were closing in on us. “How much longer?” Skore ignored me. “Are you sure you’re going the right way?” Shouldn’t we be leaving the mountains for the Ozarth plains that would take us south to the Harrow River? I glanced over my shoulder as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. There was no one and nothing behind us. Above was only gray rock. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. “Brother Skore, where are we going?” The sting of his magic hit me at the same time as a gust of wind. I grimaced, rubbing at my arms. “You could have just answered my question.” “I did.” His voice echoed off the walls. Bastard. Evie stuck out her tongue at his back. Desperate for a distraction, I pulled the journal out of a saddlebag, flipping it open to an entry I hadn’t read yet. After the incident with the gray-haired woman, I’d been more reluctant to plow through the journal, almost afraid of what I might learn. But I forced myself to read at least one story every day, only sharing them with Evie once I’d deemed them safe. … man with three raw gashes on his face skins a beast hanging from an iron hook. The animal’s hide is a shade of lime green, almost as bright as the sun in some places. The scutes fit together in raised, hard squares. Blood drips from the beast’s severed neck. Its head has been separated from its body, lying on the ground. Its open maw is full of jagged white
A teeth. The creature’s long tail is draped over the hook and falls the length of its body. Even then, it’s still long enough to curl in a circle on the ground. Its four legs are short, its feet tipped in gray claws. Three claws, like the three cuts on the man’s face. The knife the man uses to flay the creature is sharp, but the hide is so thick and hard, he has to constantly stop and sharpen the blade. He starts at the tail and makes his way to the head. He slices and cuts, taking to the carcass the way the creature took to his face. Without mercy. Only when the skin is hung on a line, the blood washed away, and the leather left to dry does the man finally set down his knife. The hide becomes fabric. The man sews an overcoat and cobbles a pair of boots. He creates a mask to cover his scars and conceal the empty socket of his lost eye. And the next time he encounters a lime-green beast, it does not attack. For in his disguise, the creatures cannot see the path he walks. … n alligask. That must be the monster described in this entry. I closed the book, deciding to keep this story to myself. Evie sighed and squirmed. “How much longer?” I opened my mouth to wager a guess, but Brother Skore beat me to it. “We’re nearly there. Listen,” he said. A faint rush of noise tunneled down the canyon’s base. The sound was like wind rustling through leaves, except there were no trees. “What is that?” Evie asked. “Water.” Waves but without a pulse. The steady flow was either a roaring river or a waterfall. The trail’s incline steepened, shifting me back in the saddle. The rock walls became shorter as we climbed, opening up to the sky above and letting in more light. And with every step, the sound of the water grew louder until it was so fierce that Evie cupped her hands over her ears. I held my breath as we reached the mouth of the canyon, passing between the rock columns onto a platform. Across a hole so deep I couldn’t see the bottom was a waterfall that towered to the sky. The water fell from another sheer cliff on the opposite side of the hole. It formed a curtain of white that vanished into an abyss.
Freya shied away from the edge, following my tug on her reins. The air was damp, the spray cool on my face. It smelled of wet stone and moss. The noise wasn’t as loud now that we were out of the canyon, but as Brother Skore’s mouth moved, I couldn’t make out his words. He continued on, riding a narrow path on the outer rim of the hole, seemingly unbothered by the fact that a single misstep would have us falling to our deaths. “Shit,” I hissed, urging Freya to follow Skore’s mount. Don’t slip, girl. Please, don’t slip. As we approached the waterfall’s cliff, Evie held out her hand, fingertips dragging along the rock as she leaned away from the hole and open air. Every time Freya lifted her leg, I held my breath and tensed. Skore was as relaxed as if he were riding through a flat meadow of wildflowers. My grip on the reins tightened as we drew toward the waterfall, the path narrowing until we were all but hugging the rock. The closer we got to the water, the faster my pulse raced. An ache bloomed behind my eyes, and each drop of water that hit my face felt like it cut, like they were ice crystals biting into my skin. In a blink, Brother Skore disappeared in the spray, swallowed by a cloud of mist. “Dess?” Evie clung to my wrists. “Damn it.” I pulled back on Freya, making her stop. There wasn’t enough room to turn around, and a quick glance over the edge made my head spin. We had no choice but to go forward, so I relaxed my hold on Freya and let her follow the priest. Drops poured down my face, falling into my eyes, blurring my vision. Water soaked through the fabric of Faze’s carrier, making him wiggle. I held tight to Evie, bending over her in an effort to save her from the onslaught of water as we rode behind the falls. One moment, we were being soaked in a torrential rainstorm. The next, the water stopped, the light dimmed, and I wiped my eyes dry to see a rounded cave. “What are we doing here?” I shouted over the noise.
Skore swung off his horse and pointed to a tunnel I hadn’t noticed at the back of the cave. The darkness and the noise only seemed to make the pounding in my head louder, and I was in no mood for his silent orders. “Answer the question. What are we doing here?” He waved for me to get off Freya. I shook my head. His lip curled. My nostrils flared. “There is something in this cave I need to retrieve,” he said, shouting over the roaring water. “Great. We’ll be here when you’re done.” “You’re coming with me.” “Why?” “Because I cannot find it. And I need your help.” I brushed water droplets from my forehead. Now it made sense why we were going the wrong way. Was he ever going to take us to Quentis? “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” “I’m telling you now.” I gripped the reins to keep from giving him an obscene gesture. “After I help you find whatever it is that you’re looking for, we are going to Quentis. No more unexplained detours. Understood?” It was the first time I’d had any leverage in this relationship. If he wanted my help, then he was going to make me a promise. “Agreed.” He pointed to the tunnel. “Come.” “Take Faze,” I told Evie, pulling him out of his carrier. A drop fell from the ceiling and landed on his nose. He growled and jumped to the ground before she could take hold. “Faze, no.” Her voice echoed in the cave. “He’s okay.” My legs felt weak and stiff as I dismounted, my head spinning faster. My boot slipped on the wet rock, and before I could catch myself, I crashed. Hard. Pain exploded along my hip as I hissed. “Dess,” Evie cried. “I’m okay.” I took a breath, letting the ache dull. Then I slowly got to my feet. Skore’s magic felt different in here. It didn’t sting on the surface, crawling up my skin. Instead, it seemed to drive straight to my bones,
making me dizzy and sick. “It’s slippery,” I told Evie. “Be careful.” She nodded and held tight to my shoulders as I lifted her out of the saddle. Once she was on her feet, she hurried to Faze as he lapped water from a puddle. After a fortifying breath, I held out my hand for Evie. “Okay. Let’s go.” “Evangeline stays with the horses,” Brother Skore said. “What? No. I’m not leaving her alone.” “This is no place for a child.” “Then you should have thought about that before bringing us here,” I snapped. “Please.” It was the first time he’d used that word, and it surprised me enough to listen. What the hell was down that tunnel? “Will she be safe here?” He nodded. Fuck. I sighed and dropped to a crouch as Evie came to my side. “No.” Her eyes were blown wide as she shook her head. “I don’t wanna stay by myself.” “We’ll be fast. I promise.” I pushed a lock of wet hair off her forehead. “Can you be my brave girl and watch Faze and Freya for me? Make sure they don’t wander off?” She shook her head, clutching my hand with both of hers. “No.” “You can do this.” I kissed her head, then wiggled my hand free. “We’ll be right back.” The corners of her mouth turned down as tears filled her eyes. “We’ll be right back.” I stood and stepped closer to Skore, leveling him with a glare. “If anything happens to her, no amount of magic in this realm will save you from my wrath. I’ll rip your fucking heart out.” He dipped his chin. “No harm will come to the girl.” “Good. Let’s go.” With a swish of his robes, he set off through the tunnel’s opening. I followed, and before we were out of sight, I glanced back to Evie. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clutched Faze to her chest. Watch over her, Ama. Keep her safe. It didn’t take long for the tunnel to narrow. The ceilings lowered enough that Brother Skore had to crouch as he walked. The sensation of his magic
was so strong, so draining, that I swayed, pressing a hand against the wall. “What do you feel?” he asked. “Your magic.” I gritted my teeth, breathing through my nose. The light from the cave was all but gone, and I couldn’t see a thing but the faint outline of his bald, white head. “Do you have a torch?” “We won’t need one.” “Can you see in the dark? Because I sure as hell can’t.” A growl came from the priest, sounding so much like Faze it was uncanny. “Keep walking.” I obeyed, skimming one hand on the wall as I tested each step before planting my foot. It took ten paces before a strange glow came from ahead, and after another ten, I understood why we didn’t need a torch. Veins of iridescent aqua blue threaded through the rock, illuminating the space. “What is this?” I pulled my hand away from the wall, seeing the blue on my fingertips. It was almost like paint. “I do not know. In all my years and travels, I have never found anything like it. But it will light our path.” “If you’ve been here before, why do you need me?” He waved me forward, taking me to a place where the tunnel split in three. “Which one?” I asked. “That is for you to decide.” Now it was my turn to growl. “Speak plainly.” I was drenched and cold. The throbbing in my head seemed to get worse with every passing moment. If he wanted this miserable adventure to continue, he was going to have to be specific. “Follow the pain,” he said. “What?” “If you can feel my magic, you can feel the magic in this tunnel. Follow it.” This was why he’d wanted me. Because I could feel magic. “What is this place?” “Ancient,” he answered. A chill snaked down my spine. “The longer you fight me, the longer that girl is alone.”
“You’re a manipulative bastard,” I hissed, but the warning worked. I marched past him and down a tunnel. It wasn’t until the ache behind my temples began to ease and the pressure in my chest lessened that I realized I was alone. That the only sound was my ragged breath and pounding heart. Follow the pain. There was no pain, not down this tunnel. So I retreated to the entrance where I found Skore waiting. I took the second tunnel, walking alone until the pain eased. “Damn. A little help, Daria?” If there was ever a time I could use help from the Goddess of Luck, it was today. The air felt different as I made my way down the third tunnel. It was hot and thick. Every inhale felt shallow, like my body was protesting the path. Guess I was on the right track. “It’s this way,” I called back to Brother Skore. He appeared moments later, his body still hunched to not scrape his head on the tunnel’s roof. “Now what?” I asked. “Keep going.” We walked deeper and deeper, winding around corners and stepping over puddles. The eerie blue light began to hurt my eyes, and the headache became so unbearable I bent forward and retched. “Ugh.” I wiped spittle from my mouth and sagged against the wall. My groan was swallowed by the caves. I summoned my strength, and when the tunnel split again, I took the path to my left. When the pain didn’t stop, I trudged forward. Another divide. Then another and another. Each time, I’d test the path, and if the pain stopped, I’d retreat. It was a maze designed to make me lose my mind. There was no way these tunnels were created by the water. Someone must have carved them into the cliffside, using the waterfall to hide the entrance. What was this place? I saved that question for when I wasn’t coming apart, my insides twisting and every fiber of my being screaming to leave, leave, leave. This place was wrong.
My toe caught on a rock, and I toppled forward, landing with a crack on my knees. Tears sprang to my eyes. “Fuck.” “You must keep going.” “Going where?” I shouted, using the surge of fury to stand. “What the hell is down here? We’ll be lucky if we don’t get lost.” Silence. I let out a frustrated scream that I hoped hurt his ears as much as it did mine. Then, only because I knew he wouldn’t let me leave and there was a girl waiting on me, I kept going. We walked and walked, so far I was sure we’d step through to the other side of the mountain. The tunnels were like worm trails, winding in all directions. My legs were so heavy that each step felt like ten. Until I turned a corner and stopped. The end. The tunnel came to a close with a wall of solid rock. There was nothing but blue lines and nowhere else to go. “There’s nothing here.” Brother Skore’s disappointment filled the chamber. “You took a wrong turn.” “No, I didn’t.” I rubbed my temples. “I did exactly what you asked. Now take me back to Evie.” He lifted his hands, frantically feeling over the wall like he was searching for something. “Please,” I begged, and when my plea went unanswered, I sank to the floor, leaning against the rock as the Voster examined the tunnel. There was a small pool beside me, about the length of my arm. Its surface was black and smooth like so many others we’d leaped over or stepped aside. I reached for the water, skimming my fingertips over the glass. Piercing agony ripped through my hand, shooting up my arm like a slash from the sharpest blade. I screamed, scrambling away from the water as I clutched my wrist against my heart and sobbed. Brother Skore was in front of me in an instant. “What did you touch?” “Please,” I begged, tears leaking free. “Please let me go.” Brother Skore glanced to the puddle, then back at me. “Well done, girl.” Before I could shy away, he touched my hand.
And the realm went black. OceanofPDF.com
C Eleven CASPIA ap was the last man to board the Cirrina. He climbed a rope ladder as the rowboat that had ferried us all to this land was hoisted to the deck. Once both were aboard, he walked to the stern and looked to the shore. To Xandra. She pressed one hand to her heart and stretched the other out at her side, her arm extended straight with her palm facing forward. Then she bent at the waist in a bow. A Nelfinex farewell to a loved one. Cap mirrored the gesture. Then he touched the center of his forehead with two fingertips. Xandra did the same. “I vowed I’d fly across the ocean and find him when my ritus was done.” “What did he vow?” I asked. “To listen for the beat of my wings.” Her chin quivered as he turned away and strode across the deck for the helm. I took her hand, holding it tight as we stood together, side by side on a narrow stretch of sand. With waves lapping at our boots, we watched as the crew raised the ship’s anchor. Tears dripped down her cheeks as the Cirrina’s black sails caught with wind. Xandra sniffled, wiping her cheeks. “I cannot believe I’m crying over a pirate.” “You’ll see him again.” I put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I hope so,” she whispered. Cap had offered to stay, but Xandra had insisted he return to Kenn with his crew. He would only be a distraction for her ritus. And if by some
chance it took her life, she did not want him trapped across the Marixmore, far from his home. We reached this foreign land two suns ago. The shore had been nothing but towering, rocky cliffs. It had taken hours of sailing along the coast to find this stretch of sand. By then, it had been too late to ferry over, so we’d spent a restless moon on the Cirrina, each person aboard anxious for dawn. The crew had rowed to shore at sunup, the men armed with spears, knives, and harpoons, ready to defend against any attack. But all they’d found past the beach were lush green hills and a fresh stream to replenish their drinking barrels. Once the crew had deemed it safe, Xandra and I had rowed over with Cap to explore. I’d been ready to say farewell to the pirate and his crew, but Xandra had asked for one last moon. So while she and Cap slipped away to his quarters, I’d stood at the ship’s bulwark, staring at this strange place. Was this where Emery had come with Max? Was this land home to the silver-eyed warrior? Was this where my sister had died? Soon, we’d find out. The Cirrina was well on its way to the horizon when I turned away from the sea. The blades strapped to my arms and legs felt heavy as I trudged up the beach. But there was a comfort in wearing them again, knowing they would keep me safe until the rite was complete. The pack on my shoulders was stuffed as full as it had been when I left Nelfinex. I walked in no hurry, enjoying the softness of boot sinking into sand, knowing Xandra needed a few more moments alone. By the time I reached the line of grass and started up a hill, following the stream, she was jogging to catch up. The grasses beyond the beach were thick. Their green was so vivid it almost hurt my eyes, and stomping through the knee-high stalks was like wading through water. “What is this place?” Xandra skimmed the stalks with her fingers. “It smells like nothing I’ve ever known before.” I inhaled, holding the air in my nose. There were apothecaries in Showe with countless herbs and teas and oils and perfumes. But not once had I experienced a smell like this, cool and fresh and clean. Earthy, yet sweet. It lacked the spice and salt of Nelfinex.
“Do you think that since neither of us can feel the thrum any longer, now we’re supposed to follow our noses?” “Maybe.” Xandra laughed, nudging my shoulder with hers. “Are you nervous?” “Yes.” “So am I.” Xandra took a step and tipped sideways, her shoulder crashing into mine before she caught her balance. “Vexx. Sorry. I am not used to walking on ground that isn’t swaying beneath my feet.” “I feel unsteady, too.” My knees felt wobbly and my legs weak. The sensation was strange enough that I stopped walking, giving myself a moment to adjust. “We should find a shelter before the moons rise.” “Where?” She shielded her eyes from the sun as she turned in a slow circle, taking in our surroundings. The rolling hills of green were endless, stretching before us like another ocean. “Where do you think we are?” I asked. Xandra shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never read about a continent other than Azzon or Eliam.” They were the two continents south of Kenn, both within a lune’s sail. Except we’d sailed north. “This must be where the swift migrate.” “If it is, Aunt Oleana is going to be livid when we get back.” Starling did not do the forbidden without extreme consequence. But that was a worry for another sun. We were trapped here until we went through the shift. Our only escape was to change and fly home. A shiver rolled down my spine as the hairs on my arms stood on end. A sense of dread I couldn’t explain made my stomach churn. “Do we stay by the ocean? Or continue inland?” Xandra asked. “Let’s follow this stream and see where it leads us.” She nodded, then together, we set off through the grass. We were dressed in matching pants and vests with our dark cloaks fastened around our shoulders. Xandra had left her curls loose while mine were fastened in a tight knot. By the time the sun was directly over our heads, she’d pulled up her hair and we’d both shed our cloaks. The noise of waves crashing against cliffs
had vanished, replaced by the swish of grass and the steady thump of our boots. “My ears feel empty without the sound from the ocean.” “Mine, too.” Xandra slowed to a stop and shook her head. “I can’t seem to catch my balance.” “Neither can I.” I dropped my hands to my knees, closing my eyes. The unsteadiness of my feet only seemed to get worse the farther we walked. But I’d never spent time aboard a ship. It would probably just take a few suns for my body to adjust to being back on land. Xandra let her pack swing off one shoulder, taking out a canteen of water for a drink. “Divine, I’m dizzy.” “So am I.” My head was beginning to ache. “Do you think it’s the beginning of the ritus?” “Maybe. If it is the start, do you think it will take long?” “I hope not.” My hands trembled as I took out my own canteen. Each ritus was different, an experience unique to every Starling. Emery told me once that she’d never been more scared than the sun she left for her ritus. But that was the point of this rite. We left alone so that we could give in to the fear and anxiety. The ritus called so that it could eventually break us down. We were stripped of our comforts and finery, drawn into the unknown, where we learned to embrace the fear. We let it transform our bodies into something powerful. Something fierce and bold. The Starling could shapeshift into any beast of their choosing, though most chose the swift. Not only were they beloved and beautiful, but there was no creature in the world with as much might. The massive birds were gentle, affectionate, intelligent beings. And the Divine had gifted them with bodies of size and strength unmatched by any other. But transforming into such a large animal came at a cost. Before we could take on the shape of a swift, we must endure agony. Saskia warned me that the pain of the first shift was excruciating and slow. She said it felt as if her entire body was being turned inside out. Thankfully, it got easier after the first time, and after a few shifts, the pain became nothing but a brief pinch. Xandra and I were no strangers to pain. Quiescents were pushed, both mentally and physically, with their training regimens so that our bodies
were strong enough for the shift, our minds sharp enough to control the beasts we’d become. “I’m scared of how much it will hurt.” I was scared that I wouldn’t survive it. She put her hand on my shoulder. “By the grace of the Divine, give us the rite.” “By the grace of the Divine, turn us true.” I finished the Quiescent prayer, then spun in an easy circle, gaze sweeping the surroundings. Far in the distance, the green came to a stop, the hills giving way to a line of tan cliffs. But there wasn’t a sign of other people. Of a city or township. “It’s so…empty.” “Where are all the people?” Xandra shielded her eyes with a hand, scanning the hills. Showe was the largest city in Nelfinex. Every ten or fifteen summers, the wall was expanded to make more room for homes and buildings. Beyond the wall, towns dotted the countryside. On any road, in any direction, a person could walk from one town to another in less than a sun. This place seemed entirely void of people. “Let’s head toward the cliffs and see if we can find a place to make camp,” I said. We filled our canteens in the stream, then set off for the cliffs. As they drew closer, the foliage became thicker, forcing us to weave past bushes and trees. My pack got snagged on a branch, and as I tugged it free, another branch smacked me in the face. “Gah.” I drew my kukri and hacked it to the ground. Xandra was short of breath, sweat dripping down her temples as she leaned on a tree trunk. “Thank the Divine we’re almost there. My head aches.” “Just a little farther.” I pushed on, taking the lead. Every step felt like my body was betraying me, expecting the motion of waves instead of unmoving dirt and grass. A clap of thunder rolled from the rain clouds gathering, covering the sky in a haze of gray. “We need to find shelter before it rains.” The words were no sooner out of my mouth than the clouds burst, drenching our clothes, plastering the fabric to our bodies.
“Vexx,” my cousin and I said in unison. Water dripped from my hair and down my face, getting in my eyes and mouth, as we pressed on. The drops pelted my head and shoulders, and the next boom of thunder was so loud I flinched. “Caspia,” Xandra shouted over the noise. She pushed her soaked curls out of her face and pointed to the cliffs. “Is that a cave?” I followed her finger, squinting as I searched. A dark arch marred the otherwise light-colored rock. Please, be a cave. We shared a nod, then changed direction, hurrying through the trees. The closer we got, the larger the opening loomed. Definitely a cave. It sat above a crumbling heap of boulders and fallen rock. They shifted and slid as we climbed, the rain making solid footing nearly impossible. But finally, I made it to the top, reaching back to help Xandra crawl inside. “Divine,” I whispered, taking the satchel from my shoulders and letting it drop to my feet as I stared up at the towering ceiling. The stone was a yellowish brown, like the cliffs outside. The cave was as wide and tall as the palace’s grand vestibule. The scent of dank rock filled my nose as I took in the odd statues around us. It was as if the stone had liquefied, melting into piles, like candlewax before it hardened. From the ceiling, cones and columns narrowed to tapered points, each dribbling water. The same cones covered the cave’s floor, pointing upward. “Teeth,” I said. “It’s like this cave has teeth.” And each tooth had a mirror. Each column on the ceiling dropped water onto its counterpart on the floor. Where the columns met against the cave’s walls, they formed a lattice maze, almost like twining roots and branches. “What is this place?” Xandra asked, her voice echoing in the dark space. “I don’t know.” I touched a fingertip to a column, testing its slick, smooth surface. “But I think we should stay in here until the rain stops.” Outside, it continued to pour in a thick sheet. “We won’t be able to light a fire,” Xandra said. “It’s too wet in here and out there. I doubt our clothes will dry, either.” “Probably not.” I sighed, stripping off my cloak. I scrunched it into a ball to wring out the water. “Emery once told me that her ritus was misery and anguish.”
Xandra laughed. “Well, then I guess we’re doing it right.” “I guess so.” Let the ritus begin. OceanofPDF.com
“D Twelve ODESSA o the orange ones next.” A sweet, musical voice pulled me from a dreamless sleep. My eyes were slow to open, my lids heavy. Above me was a cerulean sky and treetops with green and yellow leaves. The last thing I remembered was an iridescent tunnel and a black pool. Where the hell— “Evie,” I gasped, sitting up too fast. Blinding pain shot through my neck, turning my vision white. I winced and rubbed at the ache. “Ouch.” “Dess!” A small body crashed into mine, sending me flat onto my back again. “You’re awake.” My arms wrapped around her as the pain faded and the spots cleared from my vision. “You’re okay?” I felt up and down her shoulders and back, her head and arms, making sure she was whole. “You’re okay.” She climbed off of me, grabbing my elbow as she hauled me up to a seat. “You’ve been asleep forever.” There was a log behind me, a backrest to my bedroll. I sagged against it, blinking away the last of the fog as I took in Evangeline. She looked…fine. Perfectly dry and alive and unscathed. She plopped down on my lap, her knees on either side of my legs. “I got kind of scared, but Brother Skore promised you’d wake up.” “I’m sorry.” I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then took in our surroundings. We were camped in a grove of pretty trees with white trunks and spade- shaped leaves. The grass around us was spotted with wildflowers. The horses were drinking from a stream that cut through the grove, and our saddles were hitched over the log at my back.
Seated on a log of his own, across a smoldering pile of ash and coals from last night’s campfire, was Brother Skore. “What happened? Where are we? And how long was I asleep?” “Two days.” Evie climbed off my lap and went to Skore, plucking a bundle of white flowers from his hand. Their stems were braided together. Beside Skore on his log was a pile of orange blooms she must have picked from the field. The apprehension she’d shown before the waterfall was gone. She seemed as comfortable around Skore now as she was around me. Still, I didn’t want her anywhere near the Voster, not after what had happened in the tunnels. “Evie. Come sit with me.” I waved her back, breath held until she was at my side. She handed me the white flowers as she knelt on my blanket. “These are for you.” “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” The relief that she was unharmed, that there was even a smile on her face, was as welcome as it was exhausting. Part of me wanted to curl up and go back to sleep. “Where’s Faze?” “Hmm.” She tapped her chin as she scanned the grass, eyes narrowed. Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a cooing noise, not quite a whistle, more like a birdsong. A few moments later, Faze bounded over the log. “Where did you learn to do that?” I asked, scratching Faze’s ears. “Brother Skore taught me. We’ve been practicing. Faze gets a treat when he comes.” She leaped up, and before I could grab her, she went to the priest, Faze following close behind. She took a piece of dried meat from Brother Skore’s hand and gave it to the tarkin. The entire time, the Voster’s endless gaze stayed locked with mine. “Why don’t you get me another bouquet of flowers while I talk to Odessa?” he said. She frowned but obeyed, trudging through the grass with Faze on her heels. “What happened in the tunnels?” I asked once Evie was far enough away she couldn’t hear. “What was wrong with that water?” “The way you phrase your questions always interests me.” Brother Skore stood, shaking out his robes.
“What. Happened?” I shoved to my feet but swayed, the blood draining from my head so fast I had to sit on the log so I wouldn’t fall over. “Rest a while longer. This is a safe place.” He walked away and toward the horses, taking the rope around his mount’s neck. I stood again, slower this time, as he brought the horse over to his saddle. “Where are you going?” “Follow this stream. It will take you south to Norcrest. If you leave soon, you’ll be there by nightfall.” “Wait. You’re leaving us?” “Yes,” he said. “I must go. I’ve already delayed too long.” It seemed too good to be true. I’d been dreaming of a way to escape. Now, we were free. Lost. But free. “Wait.” I rushed for his saddle to stop him from lifting it off the ground, but with a sharp sting of his magic, a gust of wind rocked me on my heels. “Where do we go after Norcrest?” “South, across the Harrow. When you reach the bogs, you will find people who know the way to Quentis.” He saddled his horse as he spoke, not sparing me a glance. “Do not delay.” We’d be gone as soon as I could load Freya. But if this was the last time I saw Skore, I wasn’t losing my chance to ask about the tunnel. Not caring how much his magic hurt, I marched to his horse and ripped the lead rope from the priest’s grip. “What was in that tunnel?” “Liberty.” A frustrated growl rumbled in my throat. “That’s not an answer.” “Tell no one of the waterfall. Your father’s life depends on your secrecy.” “What does the waterfall have to do with my father?” He pulled the rope so hard I had no choice but to let go so it didn’t rub my palms raw. We stood close enough his magic should have been uncomfortable at the very least, but other than that single moment, it was gone. “Why can’t I feel your magic right now?” He raised a hand, bony fingers opening wide. One breath, I felt nothing. The next, it was as if a thousand spiders were crawling up my arms and legs.
I scrambled backward three steps, jaw dropping. “You can stop your magic. H-how?” Brother Skore went back to saddling his horse. “There is a warrior in Calandra. A warrior who will save this realm. Find her.” It was almost comical that he was leaving me to traverse the continent alone yet still delivering orders. “Sure. Do you have a message you need me to deliver to this all-powerful warrior? Does she have a name?” Surprise to no one, he ignored me. Gods, my headache from the tunnel was coming back. “I am not your enemy, girl.” I scoffed. “You touched me, and I was unconscious for two days.” “I’m letting you go, just as you asked. I ended your pain in that tunnel and brought you here.” “Where exactly is here?” “We are half a day’s ride from the waterfall. I brought you and Evangeline down from the mountain to rest.” Did he expect a thank-you? Well, he wasn’t getting one. “We will meet again,” he said. “It is my destiny.” “When?” Not that I was looking forward to that reunion. “After you fulfill yours.” It had been a while since my destiny and fate had entered the conversation. I hadn’t missed it. The only thing I cared about for my future was that Evie survived and I found Ransom. “Are you returning to the High Priest like Brother Dime?” “Heed this warning.” He looked down his hooked nose to make sure I was listening. “Stay away from the High Priest.” “But Ransom trusts him.” “You cannot.” I swallowed hard. “He asked about my mother. Why? Could she feel Voster magic, too?” “Very few in the brotherhood knew your mother before she died.” “Did Brother Dime?” “Follow the stream. Find the warrior.” The sting of his magic returned, pricking my skin like needles and sending me back another step as he swung into the saddle. He kicked his bare heels into his horse’s flanks. And then he rode past me, forcing me out of the way. Skore galloped through the grasses where Evie stood with two hands full of orange wildflowers.
Then, he was gone. It should have been a relief. It should have loosened the knot in my stomach. Except now we were alone and vulnerable. The only person who could save Evie from a monster was me. So we were not sticking around. I hurried to the log and my blanket spread out over the ground, then quickly balled it up. “Evie, come on. We have to go. Get Faze.” She dropped the flowers and ran for the tarkin, scooping him up and bringing him over. “Put everything in the saddlebags,” I said, stuffing in the blanket. While she collected her things, I hurried to catch Freya and get her saddled, then I stomped out the last of the fire. “Where are we going?” she asked as I lifted her onto Freya’s back. I turned away from the trees and toward the stream. “What happened in the tunnel? When Brother Skore came out?” “He was carrying you,” she said. “He put you on his horse and said he had to tie you up so you wouldn’t fall. Then he made me ride Freya and carry Faze while he walked.” “Did you go back through the canyon?” She nodded. “It was really scary at night.” “I bet it was.” I gave her a sad smile, wishing I hadn’t blacked out for so long. “Then what happened?” “We came here, and he said we’d camp until you woke up.” “Other than me, did you see him bring anything else out of the tunnel?” “No.” Damn. “But he did take something out of his bag and sneak away to the trees last night. He thought I was asleep.” Pride swelled in my chest. Gods, this girl. My tiny little spy. “What was it?” “Something round and shiny. Kind of clear, too. It was this big.” She showed me with her hands, making a shape about the size of a melon. An object that size could have easily been in the bottom of that pool in the tunnels. But if he’d had it with him, shouldn’t I have felt it today? Unless he’d taken it into the forest and my body had finally recovered enough to wake once it was gone.
Was it a source of magic? Did it bolster his own powers? My stomach knotted at the realization I’d helped him find it in that cave. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.” I climbed into the saddle behind her, settling in for another day’s ride. “Where are we going?” “South,” I told her. “Where’s south?” I barked a dry laugh and urged Freya forward to follow the stream. “Your guess is as good as mine, little star.” OceanofPDF.com
X Thirteen CASPIA andra clung to my hand as we staggered through a forest. Her palm was clammy, her face pale gray. I stumbled a step, my ankle rolling, but her grip kept me from falling. My head was spinning so fast the world looked like a streak of green and brown and blue sky. My breaths were coming in shallow pants, and the sweat soaking my body did nothing to cool the fire raging in my veins. For three suns we’d been trekking across this strange land, waiting for the ritus to change us. Xandra and I had worried the dank, moldy air from the cave had made us both ill, but maybe we should have stayed. With every passing sun, we’d both gotten sicker and sicker. I’d hoped we’d find a shelter where we could rest until the illness passed. But the only thing we’d found were trees and more trees. “I need to stop,” I murmured. Xandra released my hand, and like it had been the only thing keeping her on her feet, she dropped to the mossy forest floor. Her arms wrapped around her middle as she rocked back and forth, curling on her side. Tears welled in her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. My knees buckled, slamming into the ground as I collapsed. And just like Xandra, I curled into a ball on the wet, green earth. It rained constantly, from thundering downpours to gentle drizzles. I couldn’t remember what it felt like to wear dry clothing. We were soaked to the bone, but the water was a minor inconvenience compared to the pain. Divine, it hurt. My insides were being shredded by invisible claws. My head was throbbing, every pulse of my heart was a hammer cracking against my skull. Neither of us had been able to eat since that first moon in that strange cave. The dried fish we’d packed from the ship was untouched, though
probably not so dry anymore. That moon, we slept against the slippery rock walls, and in the morning, we both woke to stomach cramps. The first sun, we’d managed to gain quite a bit of distance, both of us pushing through the discomfort as we traversed past the cliffs and into this dense forest, hoping to find a town or village to rest and ask about a silver- eyed warrior. As we walked, I marveled at the intensity of the green, so bright and vivid it was unlike any forest in Nelfinex. Now, the color was an assault to my eyes. It was as blinding as the noontime sun, and all I wanted was to find another cave where the darkness could block out this nauseating green. Even when I squeezed my eyes shut, all I could see was green. All I could feel was pain. The cramping in my stomach was ten times worse than it had been in the cave. My skin was hot to the touch and every muscle sore. Breathing ached. “I don’t think this is the ritus, Xandra,” I murmured. “What if something is wrong?” “I don’t know,” Xandra whimpered. “I’m sorry.” A sob escaped my lips, but it hurt too much to cry so I swallowed the next. “I never should have brought us here.” We should be in Showe, in our palace, with our family. “It is not your fault.” Xandra reached to take my hands in hers. “The ritus called to us both.” “What if this is not the ritus?” “It is. It has to be. We must endure it.” Her eyes fluttered closed, the tears still streaking down her face as she began to cry. “Caspia?” “Yes?” Her breath hitched. “I don’t want to die here.” “Neither do I.” The pain was nearly unbearable as I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we both cried. There was a reason it was forbidden to follow the swift to their migration lands. There was a reason no Starling came this far for the rite. We were going to die here. Never again would I return to my beloved homeland. Never again would I hear Graciella’s laugh. Never again would I cuddle with Hop and pet his fluffy tail. And Xandra would not have the chance to find Cap on the Marixmore. We would die in this green forest.
X We would be lost to the Starling. “At least we are together.” “By the grace of the Divine.” Xandra opened her eyes and gave me a sad smile as she cupped my cheek with her palm. “By the grace of the Divine.” There was something wrong with her eyes. The gold hue was dull, and her irises had a milky-white sheen, like the flame within her was sputtering out. Like the life force in her blood was waning. My fault. If I’d never come on this journey, Xandra would be safe at home. She’d be in the mews this morning, stroking the soft feathers of the swift we were supposed to become. Except there would be no shift. There would be no flying, not for us. My tears blurred my vision. “I’m sorry.” Xandra’s thumb stroked my cheek. “I’m not.” I rested my forehead against hers, and together, we cried for the life we would not lead. Until blackness stole away the pain. And erased the cursed green. andra’s claps woke me from sleep. My eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, I was home. Warm in my bed with the spicy scents of Showe drifting through the castle’s arched windows. Except as I pushed up off the mossy earth and stared into the surrounding forest, the harsh reality came crashing back. Home was across the world. The noise came again, not Xandra’s claps, but a string of sharp and crisp notes, like the click of a tongue. The clicks were so loud that they bounced off the trees and sent a chill down my spine. “Xandra,” I whispered, shaking her shoulder. “Wake up.” She groaned, curling forward around her stomach. “Xandra, hurry.” With the little strength I had, I stood, swaying on my feet. Then I bent to take her arm, jostling her until her eyes cracked open. I was too weak to haul her off the ground, but I managed a strong tug. “W-what?” Her eyes fluttered open. They were milky white. “Get up. Now.”
She glared at me, like she’d been lost to a dream of her own. Like I’d stolen her away from Cap’s bed on the Cirrina. But then the clicks came again, and she jolted fully awake. “What is that?” “I don’t know. But we can’t stay here.” With a grip on her hand, I helped her to stand. Neither of us had bothered to take off our packs when we collapsed earlier, so with her hand in mine, we set off through the forest, weaving around rocks and stepping over branches, as those clicks seemed to follow us on our path, getting closer and closer. The air was sticky and damp. The thick moisture made every breath a chore, and sweat dripped down my brow and into my eyes. “We should hide.” “Where?” Xandra panted. “There is nothing. Where are all the people?” We were surrounded by trees, but their branches and trunks were too slippery to climb, not that either of us had the strength. Rocks and boulders were sprinkled through the trees, large enough to make stepping over them difficult. But they wouldn’t conceal our forms. Maybe we could pry up heaps of moss to cover our bodies. Except as those clicks got louder and louder, I knew that whatever was following us would not be easily fooled. The sound was so close it rattled my bones. Xandra trembled, her eyes meeting mine. “Caspia?” I pulled my kukri from where it was secured across my spine. Xandra took a dagger from a sheath on her thigh. “Ready?” She shook her head. “Run.” We tore off through the forest, stumbling as we ran side by side. Terror chased some of the haze from my mind as we pushed harder and faster. If the clicks kept coming, they were drowned out by the roaring of my pulse and heavy, labored breaths. This forest was too thick for much speed. At our fastest, if something was chasing us, we would still be too slow. Then, by the grace of the Divine, a narrow trail of brown interrupted the green. A road with twin wheel tracks cut through the trees. So glad to see a clear path, I misplaced a step and tripped on a rock. My ankle rolled, my knee bent, and I flew forward, landing on the road, my face and belly sprawled on the dirt.
“Caspia.” Xandra rushed to my side, taking my arm. “I’m okay.” Pain shot through my ankle, but I pushed it aside as I let her help me to my feet. “Come on.” Xandra looped her arm through mine. “Maybe this road will take us somewhere safe.” Every step was agony as I limped to hurry along, constantly checking over my shoulder. The clicks seemed to fade away as we clambered down the path, until the only sound was our ragged breaths. “What do you think that was?” Xandra asked. “I don’t know.” I slowed to a walk, pressing a hand to the cramp in my side. “How is your ankle?” It throbbed, and putting pressure on it sent a bolt of pain through my leg. “It’s fine.” “Don’t lie to me.” I sighed. “In the scheme of what hurts at the moment, the ankle is not on the top of my list.” “Fair.” She planted her hands on her hips, tilting her face to the sky, looking past treetops and branches. The blue skies from this morning were being overtaken by gray clouds. “It’s going to rain again.” “By the grace of the Divine, this road will lead to a town.” I wasn’t sure what kind of coin the people of this land would accept, but Emery’s elfalter rings were in my pocket. Even though I hated the idea of giving them away, if sparing one meant survival, then so be it. I limped forward, and Xandra fell into step at my side, moaning as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I think I’m going to ret—” Click. Click. Click. We stopped, turning slowly as the sound came from somewhere in the trees. “Vexx,” I whispered. We were fools to have stopped running. Fools to think we might survive. Xandra drew a knife as a dark streak shot through the forest. A four-legged beast leaped onto the road, its curved claws sinking into the earth. It stared at us with eyes as black as its hide. “What is that?” A shudder ran over my shoulders as it took a step closer. The creature was similar to the jackals that roamed the Nelfinex wilds, with a long snout and pointed ears. Though this animal was twice as large,
nearly the size of a horse. Its fur stopped past its ribs, giving way to scales that rippled as it prowled our way. And each of those scales ended with a pointed quill. Xandra took a step toward the beast, her hand shaking loose of mine. “What are you doing?” Her answer was to take another step forward. The beast snarled and bared its white fangs, the spines on its back bristling. She raised her hand, palm out like she was waiting for the creature to come closer so she could scratch behind its ears. In Nelfinex, I would have been right beside her. The Starling did not fear beasts. But this was unlike any creature that roamed my homeland. It wasn’t a fenek or marroweel or swift. And the sinking feeling in my stomach said this was not a wildling that any Starling could tame. “Xandra,” I hissed. “Stop.” “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, entranced by the strange jackal. “No.” I took a step with my uninjured leg, stretching out a hand to take hold of her elbow. “Something is wrong. They are not like the beasts from home.” As if to confirm I was correct, the animal lifted its head, pointing its nose to the sky. With its throat exposed and bobbing, it let out a series of those clicks. A snarl came from the trees. Xandra and I both whirled toward the noise. Another black beast prowled through the foliage, its teeth bared. Those clicks were to call its pack. To hunt us from all sides. “Xandra.” With a yank on her arm, I pulled her out of her stupor. She jerked, like she hadn’t even realized I’d been touching her. “Come on.” I urged her backward. There was no way we could outrun these creatures, not with my injured ankle and the weakened state of our bodies. But I wasn’t sure we stood a chance in a fight against those claws and fangs. Xandra’s gaze shifted to me and past my shoulder, staring down the road. Her eyes blew wide as she gasped. I followed her gaze to see a third beast closing in, this one having snuck up behind us, moving with such stealth it could have attacked without any warning.
Dead. We were dead. By an animal of all things. “Do we run?” I let my pack slip from my shoulders, not wanting the weight of it to slow me down. Xandra shook her head. “We’ll never survive.” “Then we fight.” I took my kukri’s grip with both hands, finding my center so that when I had to strike, it would be quick. And if I missed… By the grace of the Divine, make our deaths quick. A growl, low and menacing, came from the beast still prowling through the forest. The other two crept closer, lowering their heads and shoulders, preparing to pounce. Xandra shook her head so fiercely her hair whipped into her face. “No.” The scream tore through her throat as she closed her eyes, her hands fisting at her sides. It grew louder and louder, morphing from a woman’s shout to an animal’s roar. The ritus. Tears sprang to my eyes as I brought a hand to my mouth, watching as my cousin dropped to her knees. Finally. If she shifted, she could save us. The sound she made was so raw and savage that the beasts stopped their pursuit, the two on the road backing away. Xandra bent forward, dropping to her hands as her back arched. She twisted to stare up at me, her eyes no longer gold or milky white. They were black as ink, the whites entirely erased. “Run,” she ordered between gritted teeth. “What? Xan—” “Go. Now.” Another roar came from deep in her chest, her mouth stretched wide as she sank back to sit on her heels. She rocked back and forth, hands digging like claws into the ground. I took a step closer, reaching for her, but instead of taking my outstretched hand, she bared her teeth. Teeth that were not part of her normal, lovely smile. They lengthened as I stared at her, growing into tapered, razor-sharp fangs. Was this why we went through the ritus alone? Because we were not safe to be around during the change? “Xandra?” The growl that came from her throat was not human. Her eyes flickered to gold, the black receding for only a moment. “Please. Run.”
“But—” “Go, Caspia.” The gold vanished in a blink, and the feral snarl she unleashed made me stagger backward. Terror took hold, and I whirled for the trees, running as fast as I could, despite the pain in my ankle. Xandra’s scream followed me into the forest. I lost track of the other beasts as I kept running, heart in my throat. Risking a look over my shoulder, all I could see was green. When I faced forward, I turned too quickly, and my balance faltered. My toe caught on a stick and sent me crashing forward. My palms slammed into a mossy rock, the impact jarring enough I dropped my kukri. I let out a single cry, snatched my blade, then pushed myself to my feet, checking behind me once more. The sight of a black beast perched on a rock, its eyes locked on me, made my blood run cold. “Xandra?” Or was this another one of the creatures? Had I left my cousin on that road to die? The beast lifted its nose like it was searching for my scent. I backed away, weapon raised. “Xandra, if that’s you, please know me.” Its ears twitched. Click. Click. Click. The noise from the other creatures filled the air, and the beast’s attention shifted to the side. With its focus elsewhere, I spun around and did as Xandra had ordered. I ran until my lungs were bleeding and my legs were on fire. The sound of rushing water cut through my terror. The trees opened up, then stopped at the edge of a sheer cliff. The river below raged with rapids. The ravine was too wide for me to jump. “No.” I came to a sliding stop at the edge, peering down the long drop. Then I backed toward the forest to run another way. My curls stuck in my face as I turned. Three beasts came at me like a wave, crashing from all directions, leaping over fallen logs and rocks. By the grace of the Divine, turn me true. The only way I was surviving those beasts was by becoming one of my own. I ripped a knife from a sheath at my wrist, and with a flick, sent it flying toward the nearest beast.
The knife drove into the jackal’s black fur, but the horror kept running at me with an ear-splitting roar. It opened its jaw and pushed off all four legs, ready to slam into my body. I raised my weapon over my shoulder, ready to strike down with all my might, but then another beast came charging from the side, slamming into the animal that had been a heartbeat from making me its lunch. A ball of black fur and scales rolled in front of me, slamming into a tree trunk. Then came the snapping of teeth, followed by the sickening gurgle of a throat slashed. Xandra. No. My eyes swam with tears as the larger of the two beasts stood over a lifeless body. Blood seeped from four deep gashes in the dead animal’s throat. Time seemed to slow, to move in languid images, almost like my visions. The other two beasts backed away, heads lowering like they were cowering before a new leader. Xandra. It had to be Xandra. When Starling died, we returned to our human form. The beast bleeding over the forest floor was still an animal. She growled at the others, then raised her head and let out a series of those clicks. Was it a warning? An order? They seemed to bow to her, dropping to a crouch, giving her allegiance. I lowered my blade, my entire body trembling. “Xandra?” She looked like she was about to come close and nuzzle against my hand. Until her lips curled up at the sides. Until a low, menacing growl came from her throat. Until she took one prowling step my way. “Xandra.” I backed away from her and the other two beasts. “It’s me. It’s Caspia.” For every step I took, she followed, five steps, then ten. Until she’d pushed me to the edge of the cliff with nowhere to go. “Xandra.” I repeated her name again and again. “Xandra.” She only snarled. “Xandra.” My voice cracked as tears streamed down my face. “Don’t do this. Come back. Shift back. Xandra, remember who you are.”
The other two beasts lurked behind her, awaiting her command. “Xandra!” I screamed, hoping it would break through to the woman, my best friend, somewhere beneath the beast. She lowered her shoulders, eyes locked on mine. “Xandra.” I sobbed, my chest racking as I cried. “Xandra, please.” Except Xandra was gone. She was lost. She was nothing but the beast. And I would not let my cousin destroy me. If this was my end, then it would be my own doing. She leaped, maw opening wide, claws outstretched. But I was already gone, jumping over the cliff’s edge. Flying, for the first time in my life. Flying, for only a moment. Until I fell. OceanofPDF.com
T Fourteen ODESSA here was a rock under my bedroll that had grown larger and sharper overnight. It dug into my hip, waking me from a fitful sleep. “Hey. Woman. Wake up.” Not a rock. A boot. Someone was kicking me. I gasped and shot upright, pushing the damp hair out of my face as I peered up at the person standing over me. An old man with hooded black eyes frowned as he prodded me with his boot again, his gloved hands fisted on his hips. His hair was wrapped in a blue silk scarf that matched the starbursts in his irises. His chin was covered in long, wiry gray whiskers that bounced as he spoke. “Get up.” “W-what?” I squinted against the sunlight streaming through the tree branches overhead. “Get up. Get yourself on the road before the town patrol finds you here. Norcresters don’t take too kindly to outsiders sleeping in their gardens.” Warning delivered, he turned on a heel and walked to a horse-drawn cart waiting on the road. As he drove away, I pushed the blanket off my legs and stood, taking in our surroundings. It had been nearly dark last night when we chose to camp against this tree. I hadn’t realized that it marked the entrance to a vegetable garden. Rows and rows of different plants stretched across the fields around us. “Evie.” I bent and gently shook her shoulder, rousing her from sleep. “It’s time to wake up.” “No.” She frowned, squeezing her eyes closed as she shook her head. Last night had been too short for both of us. I left her to wake up slowly as I got Freya saddled and loaded. My back and legs protested the idea of another long day of riding, but the last place I
wanted to be was in an Ozarth jail cell. Just as Brother Skore had promised, the stream Evie and I had followed out of the mountains yesterday had led us to Norcrest. The ride had taken the entire day, and for the last hour, I’d been certain we were lost. But then the town lights had sparkled into view, and I’d nearly cried. Norcrest was built in a basin encircled by steep, terraced hills. The town square was located in the center of the bowl, with an inn, livery, mercantile, and other businesses. Its homes were all built into the hillsides, their roofs covered in thick grass. Their doors were all wide and sturdy, some arched to follow the curvature of the terrain. It was as if each enclosed a private cave, likely dug deep enough into the land to protect their owners during the migration. We’d ridden into Norcrest as the sun was setting, and I’d followed the road that spiraled to the basin’s bottom. The town might have been charming if not for its people. They were as welcoming as the wet blanket I’d slept under that night. Not a single person had offered a warm smile. Most only sneered and glared. And without any coin or gold, the innkeeper had slammed his door in my face. So we’d retreated out of the basin, and when I’d spotted this large tree, I’d decided we could sleep here for the night. No sooner than we’d unsaddled Freya, the skies had opened in a deluge. The tree had provided us some shelter but not enough. I was tired of being wet and cold. I was tired of sleeping on the ground and wearing these clothes. And mostly, I was tired of hearing Evie’s stomach growl. How were we supposed to keep going? We’d gotten to Norcrest, but now what? We had to continue south and find a way across the Harrow River that divided Ozarth down the center. But from there, I didn’t know the best way to Quentis. Once we made it out of Ozarth, I’d have to ride through Laine and Genesis. If we made it that far, if I managed to keep both of us alive, we’d have to get through the Evon Ravine. Did I keep riding? Should I try to get to the coast? Maybe if I sold Freya, I could pay for passage to sail the Krisenth. Except I didn’t want to sell my horse. She was nearly as precious to me as Faze. She’d kept us alive, kept going without complaint. I rubbed the scar on my palm, closing my eyes. What would Ransom do? Keep going. All we could do was keep going.
A Shades, I missed him. I missed the strength in his arms. I missed the softness of his lips and sleeping on his bare chest. I missed his arrogant smirk and gravelly voice. I missed feeling safe simply because he was near. Evie’s groan pulled me out of my thoughts as she stood with a scowl. “I’m sorry we can’t sleep longer,” I said, holding out my hand. She took it and let me pull her into a hug. “Want to steal some vegetables with me?” I asked. Her sly smile made me laugh. fter weeks of traveling through the forests and mountains, riding through the Ozarth grasslands was unsettling. We were too exposed in the open. Too vulnerable. But at least we were on a road, and at least we weren’t alone. “What’s in this box?” Evie asked Wells, tapping the lid of the crate she was crawling over in the back of his wagon. He didn’t look over his shoulder to answer. “Lard.” “More lard? Is that all you have?” “Yes.” “Why didn’t you just say that earlier?” “You didn’t ask.” “Oh.” She sighed, drawing in her knees to sit cross-legged. Wells, the old man who’d woken me up at dawn, was now our travel companion. It hadn’t taken long for us to catch up to his cart after we raided the garden, stuffing our pockets and bags with carrots and tomatoes and beans and peas. I’d even dug up a handful of round potatoes. Wells was on his way to the Harrow River, and when I’d asked if we could ride alongside him, he’d agreed and even offered to let Evie sit in the cart. It was strange not to have her in front of me. My arms felt empty and too big, but she seemed much happier with room to squirm. And Wells, while a bit gruff, indulged her string of questions. “What is lard?” she asked him. “Fat from a pig. It’s cooked down and melted, then put in jars.” Evie grimaced. “Sounds gross.” “Gross?” Wells harumphed. “My lard makes the best pie crust in all of Calandra.”
“Where are you taking it?” I asked. “Ripfell. It’s about a day’s ride once I cross the Harrow. This is my last trip over for a while. Should be back in Norcrest in a few days if I sell quickly. Then I’ll stick close to home until next summer.” Until after the migration. “Do you have a good shelter?” “Yes. It’s already stockpiled and has been for months.” “Good.” When the crux came, he’d be ready. Wells glanced over, taking in my dirty, wrinkled clothes for the tenth time. “Where are you going?” “Quentis.” He frowned and shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Evie yawned and lay down on the crates, tucking her hands under her cheek. It didn’t take her long to doze off. “Do you worry about monsters?” I asked Wells. “I’ve crossed paths with my fair share of tarkin.” He gave the carrier slung across my body a wary look. I shifted Faze to my other side. “Have you ever been attacked?” Wells reached over the edge of his bench seat, tapping the crate secured beneath. “She didn’t ask me what was in this crate.” “Weapons?” I asked. “Piglets. Three of them. The minute I see a tarkin, I’ll let them loose. They’re easy enough prey and make enough noise that the monsters forget about a thin, old man.” Unless the monster had Lyssa. Then I doubted any number of piglets would be enough of a distraction to quell its bloodlust. We rode through the rest of the morning in comfortable silence, following the two-track road through sweeping fields and over rolling hills. Not long after Evie woke from her nap, she heard a squeal and discovered the piglets. And as the afternoon bled into the evening, she was back in the saddle, riding in front of me as the road widened and merged with other trails. Another wagon appeared ahead of us as two fell into line behind us. They were all merchants like Wells, hauling goods in carts. I hoped most had heard news of the crux scout and were fleeing to shelters and cities.
With strangers nearby, Evie’s questions stopped, and the only noise came from the clop of hooves and the crunch of wheels on dirt. The grasses grew taller and thicker the closer we got to the river. The road was still muddy in certain patches from last night’s rain. The smell of smoke greeted us not long before we reached an expanse of tan canvas tents. Clustered along the road and trampled grass, they stretched as far as I could see, forming a makeshift city alongside the Harrow River. Everyone ignored us as we rode past, busy with their own tasks. People bustled in and out of their tents and tended to horses. Some were busy cooking beside ringed firepits. It reminded me of the first camp I’d ever seen, a camp made on the Turan plains not long after I’d sailed across the Krisenth to my new kingdom. It was the camp where Ransom had first started training me to fight, all because I’d demanded a sword. That camp had been a lifetime ago. Before I’d fallen in love with Turah. Before I’d learned the Guardian’s true identity. Before I’d fallen in love with Ransom. My heart twisted, and I stroked the scar on my palm. A bell rang out, clanging so loud Faze poked his head from the carrier. “What’s that?” I called to Wells. He snapped his horse’s reins. “Last ferry for the day. Hurry.” We kept pace as he raced for the Harrow, trotting toward the river’s edge where a flat wooden boat was tied to a sturdy post. Two thick planks connected it to the shore. Wells dug into his pants pockets, pulling out a coin. He flipped it to the ferryman and drove the cart onto the boat’s platform. I urged Freya to follow, but the ferryman—a broad, hulking figure wearing a leather oilskin coat—stepped into my path, holding up both hands. “That’ll be two darrics. One for each of ya.” My stomach dropped. “I don’t have any coin.” The man crossed his arms over his chest. “Then be gone.” “Please,” I begged. “We have to get across.” The river cut from one coast of Ozarth to the other. There was no going around. His gaze drifted over my shoulder to the hilt of my sword. “I’ll take that from you.”
“No.” Not a chance I was giving up my only weapon and a gift from Ransom. Besides, it was worth well more than two darrics. “Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “Back away.” “Here.” Wells took two other coins from his pocket. “Let them cross.” The ferryman walked over and took them from Wells. He bit one, making sure it was real, then he waved us onto his ferry. “Thank you, Wells.” I swung off Freya, helping Evie out of the saddle as the ferryman untied the boat. “I will repay you.” “Keep that sword. Keep that girl alive. Payment enough.” The old man walked to the edge of the boat, taking a seat on the floorboards as he pulled off his boots and rolled up his pants. As the ferryman hauled in the planks and pushed away from the shore, Wells dropped his feet into the river. The Harrow was so wide I could barely see the other shore in the fading light. But the water was calm, lapping against the boat’s sides. We flowed downstream for a bit until the boat caught the current. Then the ferryman steered us with a large oar off the stern. “How does he get back upstream to the other side?” I asked Wells. “The ferrymen float from side to side, dropping passengers along the way. He’ll pick up others and cross back tomorrow, always working downstream. Usually they go about ten landings. Then they’ll dismantle the boat, load it into wagons, and come back to the top. This is the farthest landing from Skanshon.” “Are there boats that go straight to Skanshon?” “Yes. But they aren’t cheap. And there are too many men on this river who’d let you keep that sword to take payment in other ways, if you know what I mean.” “Yes.” It wasn’t only monsters I had to fear on this journey. Men could be just as cruel. “Don’t stay long in the camps,” Wells said, his voice low. “When we get there, whatever way the ferryman walks, you go the opposite.” “Understood.” I glanced over my shoulder, finding the ferryman’s eyes waiting. The hungry look in his gaze made me shiver. I pulled Evie closer, keeping a hand around her waist as she skimmed her fingers on the water’s surface. It was nearly dark when we made it to the opposite shore.
Fires burned in barrels, lighting the landing. Like the other side of the river, tan canvas tents were clustered in the grass, most with their own campfire burning, too. “May Daria grant you luck on your journey.” Wells gave me a single nod farewell, then climbed on his cart and drove through the camp. The ferryman was still busy with his boat, so while he was distracted, I put Evie in the saddle with Faze, leading them as I walked through the tents, keeping my head down as I passed. Ahead, Wells’s cart rolled past a small wooden cabin. He twisted back and pointed to the building, and then he was gone, swallowed up by the tents. I quickened my steps, walking straight for the house. The sound of children’s laughter erupted as the door blew open and five kids streamed outside. A round woman with olive skin and long, brown hair shooed them away, lingering in the door’s frame to smile at the brood. She was about to turn back inside when she spotted me. Her eyes narrowed as she wiped her hands on a threadbare apron. “Um, hi.” I offered a kind smile, hoping she’d take pity on us tonight. “My name is Odessa. This is Evie. We’re just passing through, and I was wondering if you have a safe place where we could sleep tonight. We traveled this way with Wells. From Norcrest.” Shades, I hoped she knew Wells, because I’d forgotten to ask if that was his first or last name. The woman’s gaze was inscrutable as she gave me a once-over, then Evie. Only then did her expression soften. Maybe it was the blue starburst in Evie’s eyes that matched the woman’s own. Or maybe she simply had a gentle heart for children. “You can sleep in the lean-to off the side of the house. It’s not much, but it’ll keep the rain off.” “Thank you.” I sighed. “I don’t have any coin.” She waved a dismissive hand, then led us to the lean-to. It wasn’t more than a wooden roof and a few piles of straw. But there was a post to tie up Freya and a trough of clear water. An oil lantern hung from a hook on the wall. “Water pump is around back to wash up before dinner.” “Oh, you don’t need—” “Wash up before dinner,” she ordered.
“Of course.” I dropped my chin, feeling like I’d just been chided by my stepmother. If only Margot could see me now. She’d be aghast at the state of my clothes and hair. Who knew what we’d look like by the time we made it to Quentis. The mental image of her horror-struck face when we walked into her pristine, gleaming castle almost made me laugh. Evie and I unloaded our things and left Freya to graze while we washed our faces and hands at the water pump. Then we went inside the cabin, where the woman handed us each a loaf of warm bread and a bowl of stew. I opened my mouth to say thanks and ask her name, but she pointed to the small table. “Eat.” Then she was gone, marching out the door. So we ate. As soon as our bowls were empty, I washed them in a tub of soapy water, set them aside to dry, and took Evie back to the lean-to. We saved the bread for a hungrier day. Not once in my life had I feared for food. If I was hungry, all I’d ever had to do was ask. A meal was not something I’d take for granted again. I lit the lantern and hung it to illuminate the space, then spread out our blanket over the straw, tucking Evie beside me as the prattle of the children returning home carried inside. Shouts and singing drifted from the tents, a few peals of feminine laughter mingling with the voices of men. The mood was jovial and light. No one seemed panicked or worried about the migration. Maybe word of the scout hadn’t reached this part of Ozarth yet? Tomorrow, I’d mention it to the woman so she could take her children somewhere safe. Evie yawned as Faze explored the lean-to, sniffing and marking his new territory. The fangs on his lower jaw were beginning to protrude above his lip. His stripes seemed more pronounced each day. And I’d felt another row of scales growing in along his spine when I pet him earlier. There were more tarkin in Ozarth than there were in any other of the five kingdoms. Maybe this would be the safest place to let him go. Let him find his way back to being more wild than tame.
H But I couldn’t imagine leaving him behind. Not just for Evie’s sake, but mine, too. Besides, he was too young. It was too dangerous. “Dess?” Evie said, snuggling into my side. “Will you read me another story?” “Sure.” I reached for my satchel, taking out the journal in the old language. I flipped to one of the entries I’d already translated and knew was safe for her small ears. It was an entry I’d been pondering ever since Brother Skore’s mysterious instructions yesterday. There is a warrior in Calandra. A warrior who will save this realm. Find her. “‘A woman sits atop a brown horse,’” I read, squinting in the dim light. … er body is covered in gray leather and metal armor, the silver pieces reflecting the afternoon sun. Her braided hair is as pale as the clouds. Her cheek is inked with a row of four-pointed stars, their thin black points as sharp as needles. They stretch from the side of her nose, beneath her eye, to the largest that covers her temple. She is surrounded by sand and dunes. Her eyes are lined with kohl and are as bright as flames as she searches the sky. She hears the caw before she sees the falcon, and as the bird soars over her head, she extends her arm, wrapped in leather from wrist to elbow. The falcon lands on her arm, adjusting his perch as she unfastens a ribbon tied to his leg. She sighs at the message written on a small scroll, then crumples it into her fist and tosses it at her horse’s feet. She strokes the bird’s wing, then releases him back into the wind. With a fluid swing, she is off her horse and walking through the sand, shedding her weapons and armor piece by piece. By the time she sheds the last of her uniform, a heavy breastplate laced at her ribs, the other pieces are being swallowed by the sand. She stops and looks to the sky. She lifts both arms, stretching them wide like wings. And the smile on her face says she’s finally free.
E … vie touched the corner of the page as I finished reading. “Who do you think she is?” “A warrior.” Was she the person Brother Skore intended for me to find? “Cathlin has white hair.” “She does.” I smiled down at Evie. “I miss Cathlin.” “So do I.” A throat cleared from the dark, making us both jump. “Sorry.” A man in a long overcoat with a hood pulled over his head stepped warily into the light, both hands raised in peace. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” “What do you want?” I reached for the sword on the ground at my side. “Wells is a friend. My name is Sryker. You met my wife.” He pointed to the cabin. “Edda.” “Oh.” The breath I’d been holding came out in a rush as I set down my sword. “Thank you for letting us stay here tonight.” He nodded, about to turn away, but stopped. Slowly, like he didn’t want to scare us, he lifted off his hood. And when he stepped farther into the light, Evie’s body went rigid. So did mine. Three large scars marred his face. A black patch covered a missing eye. And the coat I hadn’t seen clearly until just now was made of a fabric I’d never seen before. A fabric of lime-green scutes. This was the man from the journal. The man who’d killed an alligask and used its hide for his clothes. “Wells told me you’re going south. To Quentis,” Sryker said. “Yes.” “Then you’ll need a guide through the bogs. We’ll leave at first light.” “Thank you.” A part of me wanted to ask why he was offering his help. But the other part was simply grateful to accept it. “We’ll be ready.” He walked away, toward the house. “Wait here,” I told Evie, hurrying to stand and chase after him. If he was in the journal, maybe he knew this warrior, too. “Excuse me, Sryker?” “Yes?” He turned.
“I’m searching for a warrior. A woman.” “The only warriors around here are the Mavins. I don’t know if there are any women, though.” “Mavins? Who are they?” “Mercenaries, mostly. For the right price, you won’t find a better lot of fighters.” He chuckled. “They’re almost as famous as the Guardian. Have you heard of him?” I traced the scar on my palm. “Once or twice.” OceanofPDF.com
A Fifteen CASPIA woman with wild orange, red, copper, and caramel curls sits alone in the dark. Her hair is the same as mine. As Saskia’s. As Emery’s. Her feet are bare. Her clothes are in tatters. The stone floor beneath her is cold and wet. She rests her head against iron bars as she prays to the Divine. But she is not alone. In the cell beside hers is a man with light hair, his clothes as dirty and soiled as her own. He is too thin. They both are. The man grunts as he points to a dark hall. Someone has cut off his tongue so he cannot speak. She shakes her head and reaches through the bars, taking his hands in hers. Where there once were five fingers on his right hand, only three remain. Blood still seeps from the stump where the last was severed. She will not leave him until the Divine has called him home. She cannot shift with a child growing in her womb. She hasn’t decided if she’ll tell the man yet. Or if she’ll let that secret follow her to Gloree. And so she sits in the dark, praying for their lives. Praying for death. Until the enemy drags her off the stone floor for another experiment. When they strap her to the table, when they slice open her wrist to steal the gifted blood in her veins, she doesn’t even bother to fight. … woke to a scream—my own.
I Pushing up off my pillow, kicking loose the blanket tangled around my legs, I wrapped my arms around my knees and closed my eyes, breathing through my nose. A dream. It was only a dream. I couldn’t bear the thought that it was real. That before Emery had been killed by that silver-eyed warrior, she’d suffered, not only the loss of Max, but of a daughter. I refused to believe that vision was real. My throat was on fire, my heart racing. As much as I wanted to curl up in bed and go back to sle— I gasped. A bed. I was on a bed. My eyes flew open, and for a single heartbeat, I was sure that I’d see my room. That I’d be in Showe and everything that I’d experienced since leaving Nelfinex would be no more than an awful dream. Except I wasn’t in my room. And this was not my bed. The heartbreak was instant. A cry tore from my lips as I closed my eyes again, not wanting to face this new reality. Xandra. The black beasts. She was one of them now. And she’d tried to kill me. I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep another sob from escaping. The last thing I remembered was falling. Then…nothing. Was this Gloree? Would I walk out of this room and into the open arms of the Divine, finding him waiting to welcome me to an eternal paradise? But I wasn’t ready to be a part of the afterlife. I hadn’t avenged my sister. I hadn’t completed my ritus. And now, I had to save Xandra. As much as I wanted to give in to the anguish and grief, I was on a bed that was not my own, so I forced my eyes open and swung my legs to the floor. The wooden boards were cold as I eased to my feet, testing my ankle. It was tender, and the moment I gave it my weight, a sharp pain shot through my calf, sending me back to a seat. “Vexx,” I hissed, lifting it up to see my skin mottled with purple and blue. Blue, like the color of my pants. I gasped and took in my wardrobe. A blue shirt, much too large, with sleeves that draped past my fingertips. Pants equally as loose and long but
cinched at my waist with a cord. Someone must have found me in the river. They must have brought me here and changed me out of my wet clothes. Who? How long had I been asleep? A shiver raced down my spine as I pushed myself up again, this time careful to keep off my sore ankle. Was it Xandra who’d brought me here? Had she shifted back and come to my rescue? “Xandra?” My voice was hoarse and weak. The room was practically empty, with only a narrow bed pushed against the wall. There were no windows, only walls made out of beige stones and held together by plaster of the same shade. The yellow hue reminded me of the cave Xandra and I had stayed in our first moon. I limped to the door, then twisted the knob to ease it open. The room beyond was bigger than the bedroom, though still small and crowded. There was a round table with two wooden chairs. A kitchen held a washbasin and a few narrow cupboards. A small stack of clay dishes rested on a shelf. In the corner was a leather cushioned chair with a pillow and blanket folded on its seat. The footstool was tucked neatly beside a fireplace. Whoever lived here must have given me the bed while they slept in that chair. “Hello?” I stepped deeper into the room, peering out a square window. The forest outside appeared to be the same one I’d trekked through with Xandra. The green wasn’t as offensive now that my head wasn’t spinning and my skin wasn’t on fire. It was almost…lovely. Almost. That vivid, verdant color was tainted from the sickness and Xandra’s shift. Now, that color made me heartsick. Where was my cousin? Was she alive? Had she survived the rite? There was only one way to find out. Where were my boots? My clothes? I was about to retreat to the bedroom and make sure I hadn’t overlooked something when footsteps outside made me freeze. My hand went to my hip where I usually carried a blade. Where were my weapons? My eyes stayed locked on the door as my entire body began to shake.
I wanted—needed—it to be Xandra. But something in my heart said I was going to be disappointed. The knob rattled, and the door swung open. A man with sandy hair stepped into the room. He was dressed in brown leather pants, and his shirt was a rich greenish blue. It was the color of the dragonflies that flittered around the palace in Showe. He was tall enough that he had to duck to clear the threshold. His broad, muscled physique reminded me of Cap, but this man’s wavy hair was much shorter. The moment he spotted me, his tawny eyes went wide and he lifted his hands like he was trying to tame a wild beast. When he spoke, it was in a language I didn’t understand. His voice was gentle and soothing, but it did nothing to quell the fear. I was trapped in a house, alone with a man I did not know, on a continent across the world from my home. And even if I escaped this room, where would I go? I had nothing, not even my shoes. The man kept speaking, his voice low and calm, but whatever he was trying to communicate, I hadn’t a clue what language he was using. I shook my head, backing away until my shoulders hit the wall. Tears filled my eyes as I stared at this stranger, his mouth still moving. He kept talking and talking, the words crashing on me like stones, until I couldn’t take it any longer. “Stop.” He blinked, mouth snapping closed. Then he lowered his hands and studied me, eyes narrowing as he cocked his head to the side. “Stelvi’op?” Stop. Stelvi’op meant stop. It wasn’t Nelfinex, not exactly. It was more closely aligned to a dialect from Beesa. But it was familiar. I’d said stop. And he’d understood me enough to say it back. Hope that I might find a way to understand this man soared. “Who are you?” I asked. He pondered my words as he ran a hand over the stubble dusting his chiseled jaw. It looked like he was replaying my question in his head, shuffling the words into something he could interpret. Then he gave me a single nod and touched a hand to his heart. “Andreas.” “An-dre-as,” I repeated, enunciating each syllable.
He nodded. I mimicked his gesture and placed a hand on my heart. “Caspia.” “Caspia.” A shiver, involuntary and not at all unpleasant, ran down my back at the sound of my name in his thick accent and rugged voice. Andreas held up a finger and went to the kitchen, where he bent to open a cupboard. He lifted out a stack of neatly folded clothes and a pair of boots. My boots. My clothes. When he brought them over, he stretched his arms long, keeping as much space between us as possible. The moment I had my things clutched to my chest, he lifted his hands again and backed away, like he knew I was scared. I dipped my chin in a silent thanks, then hurried into the bedroom, never turning my back on Andreas as I closed myself inside. There wasn’t a lock, so I changed with one hand, keeping the other on the door itself as I stripped out of the oversized shirt and pants, swapping them for clothes of my own. When I went to pull on a boot, there was something inside. I tipped it upside down, letting my necklace and ten elfalter rings drop into my palm. In the other boot were two knives that had survived the river. With my pack gone, lost on that forest road, these pieces were all I had left. My only remnants of home. I clutched the necklace in my fist, breathing through another wave of pain. Then I straightened my spine and fastened it around my neck, tucking it beneath my vest. After slipping the rings in a pocket and strapping on my blades, I wrapped my cloak around my shoulders, flipping its hood over my unbound hair. Without my pack, I felt underdressed and unprepared to leave this home, but I raised my chin and opened the door. Andreas was in the kitchen, carrying two bowls to the table. He nodded at one chair while he sat in the other, its legs scraping across the floor. He plucked a berry from his bowl and popped it into his mouth, his jaw flexing as he chewed. My stomach growled so loudly the noise filled the room. His eyes softened as he pointed to the empty chair.
The food was too tempting to ignore, so I took the seat, unsheathing a knife and setting it on the table as a warning. He chuckled, the deep vibration like tingles on my skin. I sat across from him, chair as far away from the table as it would allow, and silently ate berries, nuts, and seeds. Andreas mostly focused on his own meal, but from time to time, he’d glance up. An amber starburst mingled with the tawny striations in his eyes. The flecks were so bright a yellow, his eyes seemed to glow. I’d never seen eyes like that before. They were as striking and mesmerizing as they were unsettling. They were another reminder that I was far, far away from home. A reminder that stole my appetite. I pushed the bowl aside and dipped my chin in a silent thanks. But when I moved to stand, he held up a hand and gave me a pleading look. I sighed and sank into the seat. Andreas set his own bowl aside, wiped his hands on his pants, and leaned his elbows on the table. He opened his mouth, then closed it, like he was struggling with what to say. So was I. There were so many questions to ask, but I wasn’t sure where to even begin. Which left us both speechless, staring at one another. He had angular, handsome features. The symmetry of his face, from his square jaw to his full lips to the straight bridge of his nose to the strong line of his brow, made him arguably the most arresting man I’d ever seen. Something about him felt familiar, yet I would have remembered his face from a vision. Maybe Andreas had visited me in a dream. “Elvi’old lelvi’ang-gelfwij,” he said, breaking the silence. “Old language.” The first two words were spoken in the Beesan dialect I recognized. The second pair must have been his attempt to translate into his own tongue. So I did what he had earlier and repeated them back—or tried. “Old lan-uge.” “Language.” “Lan-guage.” “Yes.” The corner of his mouth turned up as he grinned. His eyes crinkled at the sides, and my belly fluttered.
Vexx. This was not the time to be enthralled with a man. The sooner I left this house, the better, even if I had nowhere to go. The call of the ritus had faded since the Cirrina. I hadn’t felt the thrum since we came ashore. I wasn’t ready to accept that my rite had failed. Which left me with only one choice. To avenge Emery. To find Xandra. If nothing else, this journey could at least secure justice for my sister’s death. And if I found Xandra, at least she could fly me home. Which meant it was time to find the silver-eyed warrior. For that, I would need to learn the language of this land. “What is this continent?” I asked Andreas. It took him a moment to parse my question. “Calandra.” OceanofPDF.com
E Sixteen ODESSA vie gagged and plugged her nose. “It stinks.” “Yes, it does.” I breathed through my mouth, but the odor was so powerful I could taste it on my tongue. I inhaled. And heaved, slapping a hand over my mouth. The smell permeated the valley before us, the scent so heavy it thickened the air as we rode toward the bogs. My friend Samuel Hay had once told me that I’d never enjoy the sweet, spicy candy they made from crystalized cave ginger after smelling a bog. And oh, how he was right. How were the paperman and his son? Were they still in Ellder? Had they survived the crux attack on the fortress? After the death of his wife and the fire that had taken his home in Turah, Samuel had endured enough hardship. I hoped he’d found somewhere safe to wait out the migration. I hoped that someday our paths would cross again and I could tell him about this foul trek through a cave ginger bog. “You’ll get used to the smell,” Sryker said as he rode beside us, seemingly unbothered by the stench of rotten flesh and rancid milk. “I’m not so sure about that.” “You sound like Edda.” He chuckled. “She hates the bogs. But by nightfall, we’ll be through the thick of it.” “Thank you for taking us.” “That’s the tenth time you’ve thanked me this morning. You don’t need an eleventh. It’s no hardship. And it wouldn’t have been right to send you off alone.” Maybe if I had more confidence in my abilities to keep Evie safe, I would have taken offense. But I’d take all the help I could get from people like Sryker and Edda and Wells if that meant getting through Ozarth.
If I focused on crossing one kingdom at a time, traveling the continent didn’t seem quite so daunting. The bogs marked the middle of Ozarth. The swamps stretched through a valley that ran parallel with the Harrow River. This area was the only place in Calandra where cave ginger was grown. It thrived in these bogs that the alligasks called home. While it certainly would have smelled better, traveling around the bogs was not without risks. Sryker had warned me that the lush riverlands were crawling with tigercats and tarkin. It would have added a week to our journey, and with the migration quickly approaching, a week seemed too precious to waste. Cutting through the bogs was the shortest way across Ozarth and south to Laine. One day with this stench seemed our best choice. Edda had bid us farewell this morning after a hearty breakfast of boiled eggs and hard cheese. Their children had clung to Sryker’s legs, giggling as he shuffled outside, dragging them along. And his family had stood outside their home, waving as we rode away. “Do you miss farming?” I asked Sryker. “Not even a bit.” Sryker had once been a cave ginger farmer, but after he was attacked by an alligask, Edda had begged him to find another job. So he’d traded his farm for a small mercantile along the Harrow, where he sold supplies to travelers crossing on the ferries. “Why do they call it cave ginger?” There was a note in one of Luella’s journals she’d made about the plant. Not a cave in sight. I smiled at the idea of her riding through these bogs, scribbling details about the bogs and monsters within. “I’ve always wondered that myself.” Sryker shrugged. “I have no idea. Have you ever tried the candy?” “It was a favorite.” Until now. “And what about you, lass?” Sryker asked Evie. “Have you tasted it before?” “My teacher gave me some once.” She scrunched up her nose. “It was spicy.” “My kids don’t like it, either,” he said. The ginger had a sharp flavor, a taste I hadn’t acquired until I was older. “Dess?” Evie twisted to stare up at me, and the serious look in her eyes made my heart sink. I knew before she asked exactly what her question
would be. “Where is Luella? Is she in the shades with Papa?” As much as I wanted to say no, I couldn’t lie. “Yes, my love.” Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered, “And Ranse?” “No. He’s not in the shades.” If I had to believe that truth into existence, so be it. “We’re going to find him. I promise.” She nodded, falling sideways into my chest. I’d never heard Evie call Ransom by his nickname before, but it made sense. Zavier had called him Ranse. She spoke the name low enough for only me to hear, just like she’d been taught. Just like she knew not to acknowledge Zavier as Papa. Like she knew never to tell anyone she was a Turan princess. This girl was the keeper of too many secrets. She buried her face in the arms I had wrapped around her middle and clung tight as she softly cried. Sryker gave me a worried glance. “It’s been a long journey. From Norcrest,” I added quickly. With Evie’s blue starbursts, I hoped that people would think we were from Ozarth. If it meant they’d help us get through their kingdom, they could think anything they wanted. “As we get into the bogs, keep that crossbow close.” Sryker pointed to the weapon he’d given me before we left the riverside today. “It won’t kill an alligask, but a bolt through an eye will slow it down.” The end was secured to a leather strap that I’d looped around my torso, the crossbow dangling at my hip. But at his warning, I tucked it under my arm, took the pouch of extra bolts from my saddlebag, and handed them to Evie. “Can you be in charge of these?” “Okay.” She wiped her face dry and nodded. “That’s my brave little star.” I stroked her hair, then made sure Faze was tucked in his carrier in case we had to ride faster. He’d been wiggling more than usual today, and twice I’d had to stop him from trying to squirm free. “We’ll go single file through the bogs,” Sryker said as we approached a narrow, beaten trail that wound through the valley. The grass was so thick I feared we’d never see an attack coming. “Alligasks are not stealthy monsters,” he said, likely reading the worry on my face. “You’ll hear the grass rustle and see it move. In the water, they’re lightning fast. But on land, their legs are too short to give them
much speed. The fences slow them down, too. If you see a monster, just keep riding.” “All right.” I swallowed the rise of panic as he maneuvered in front of us, adjusting his own crossbow so it was easy to reach. The smell got worse, but the fear of where we were headed pushed it out of mind as the fences came into view. The dark, rusted posts were spaced closely together, the gaps as wide as my foot. They were taller than the grass but short enough that we could peer over the top to the bogs. Countless small ponds filled the valley. They were surrounded by tufts of grass. Some were glassy enough to reflect the blue sky while others were covered in a haze of green algae. A splash sounded beside us, and I jumped, searching the water for a monster, but all I saw were ripples. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end from the feeling of being watched. Hunted. Evie’s body trembled. “How is it harvested?” I asked Sryker, needing something to break the quiet. “The cave ginger?” “We bring bait to the bogs, usually pigs or sheep.” He twisted to speak over his shoulder. “It gives the alligasks something to hunt. Then we use a special rake to skim the ginger berries from the top. I was harvesting one day when an alligask came at the fence. It managed to break through a weak section and attacked. Daria’s luck was on my side.” “And now you wear its skin.” “I do. It started as more of a trophy, and a reminder that I’d survived when most would have fallen. I was still farming then, and I noticed if I was in this coat, they didn’t pay me much attention.” Exactly like the story in the journal. There was a cart and horse stopped against a fence ahead. A man was quickly drawing a rake through a gap in the fence posts as a woman scooped the berries into baskets and loaded them into their cart. Neither paid us any attention as we approached, too focused on their task. The squeal of a pig rang out from where it was stuck in the mud in the next bog over. The bait. Evie looked up to me, her eyes wide.
“Don’t look,” I said. She twisted the other way just in time to miss the alligask. The monster surged from the bog, unhinging its jaw to swallow the pig whole. “By the mother.” They were enormous, larger than I’d expected. Out of the water, their bold hides were as bright as the overhead sun. But as it sank down in the water, giving its thick, long tail a swish, it vanished beneath the surface. As we rode past, the water was already calming, concealing the monster lurking in its depths. I tightened my grip on the crossbow. Faze wriggled so hard he almost worked himself free of the carrier. “What’s wrong?” I let the crossbow hang by its strap and lifted him up, checking his paws and belly to make sure he wasn’t hurt. He bared his fangs and hissed, not at me but toward the water. Lime green flashed at the corner of my eye an instant before a loud thwack and roar filled the air. An alligask slammed into the fence beside us, snarling and thrashing against the bars, trying to get free. “Ride,” Sryker ordered, urging his horse into a gallop. Freya jumped away from the monster, then took off, chasing after Sryker. Except my feet weren’t set in the stirrups, and I wasn’t holding tight enough to the reins. In a blink, I lost the control I’d been clinging to for weeks. I pitched sideways, sliding to the farthest edge of the saddle as I bounced hard, my head whipping back and forth. Evie’s scream mingled with another roar from the alligask as it banged into the fence again. Pain exploded through my muscles as I clung to Evie and the saddle horn, dragging myself into the seat. Our bodies crashed together, jostling to the other side as we barely hung on and, somehow, managed not to fall. But something had to give. And that something was Faze. He flew out of my hold, yelping as he hurtled to the ground. “Faze!” Evie yelled, reaching for him.
“No,” I gasped as she toppled to the side, keeping her with me as I pulled with all my might on Freya’s reins. But my horse didn’t want to stop. She kept running, until I pulled her head so hard she had no choice. “Sryker,” I called. He slowed his horse and turned, his eyes going wide as he looked past me to the trail. I twisted, following his gaze as I forced Freya around. She bucked, coming up on her front two feet, just as the alligask broke through three fence posts, making enough room for it to claw free. It opened its jaws, flashing sharp teeth the size of my fingers. “Faze!” Evie’s shout filled the air as my stomach dropped. “Gods.” I fumbled for the crossbow, lifting it up and firing at the beast. But we were too far away, and my hands were shaking so badly my aim was shit. “Give me a bolt.” Evie kept screaming Faze’s name, holding her arms out for him to run to her. The alligask might have been slower on land than water, but it was still faster than our little tarkin. “No.” I kicked at Freya, forcing her to move toward the monster even though she was shaking. I ripped the bag of bolts from Evie’s hands, my fingers trembling as I fished one free. It slipped and fell to the ground. “Damn it.” Panic surged as I took out another, the tip slicing through my flesh. Blood poured, coating my fingers and making it almost impossible to load the bolt. But I managed to get it notched and loaded. Then I forced a steady breath as I lifted the weapon and fired it at the monster. The bolt sank into the alligask’s milky-white eye. But it didn’t stop coming toward Faze. It snarled in my direction, like a promise that I’d be next. “Faze!” Evie’s voice cracked as she screamed at the top of her lungs. I pulled Freya to a stop, not willing to get any closer as I took out another bolt. Please. I prayed a god was listening. Please don’t take him from her. From me. I loaded the bolt and lifted the crossbow, holding my breath as I fired. It bounced off the monster’s thick hide and into the grass.
Evie fell forward, screaming and hysterical as the monster’s tail flicked forward over its head toward Faze. It swiped his body to the side, knocking him off his feet. I reached for my sword, knowing there was nothing I could do. I wouldn’t risk Evie by taking her any closer, but I couldn’t just stay here and watch as that monster devoured Faze whole. Don’t even think about it. Ransom’s voice echoed in my mind, like he was sitting beside me, knowing exactly what I was about to do. “I’m sorry.” I shifted sideways, about to swing off the saddle, when a horse and rider blew past me, nearly hitting my shoulder. A blur of white and silver and steel flew through the air as an ax glinted beneath the sun. Then that ax drove through the alligask’s skull, cleaving its open jaw in two. I blinked, sure I was dreaming. A woman with hair as pale as snow knelt on the beast’s twitching corpse —a warrior dressed in gray leather and metal armor, the steel pieces gleaming beneath the sun. She looked up and met my gaze. Her light-brown irises and the persimmon starburst from those born on the soil of Genesis made her eyes appear like twin flames. She was as beautiful as she was intimidating. Younger than I’d imagined from the story in the journal. Older than me, but not by much. Her hair and kohl-lined eyes might have been enough to tie her to the journal, but the tattoos on her face were exactly as the book described. A row of five four-pointed stars was inked across her cheekbone. The largest covered her temple with thin lines that extended from top and bottom points. Evie’s quick inhale meant she recognized the woman from the journal, too. The thunder of hooves came from behind me a moment before we were surrounded by horses and riders, each clad in the same leather and metal armor as the woman. One man rode to retrieve her horse while two others went to the broken fence, picking up the fallen bars. Each had a star tattooed on his temple. The warrior pulled her ax free from the monster’s skull, frowning at the blood on its rounded blade.
Putrid, green blood. Lyssa. That monster would never have been stopped by a fence. The infection running through its veins, the infection that had turned its blood from red to green, that had clouded its raspberry eyes with a white film, had driven it to kill simply because it could. Or because it had felt me riding through the bogs. If not for that woman, Faze would be dead. “Another one.” Her lip curled as she wiped the green blood on a nearby tuft of grass. “Gods, it stinks. That’s three with green blood in as many months.” It was spreading, faster and farther. As hard as Ransom had tried to keep the infection from crossing Turah’s borders, it was too late. Lyssa was creeping across Calandra, and it was only a matter of time before it stretched from one side of the continent to the other. She stood tall and stared at me, her eyes narrowing. “Who are you?” I opened my mouth to answer, but Sryker appeared at my side, his hand going to my shoulder. “Are you all right?” I sighed, glancing down to Evie and then to Faze, who’d hurried over to stand beside Freya’s feet. “We’re okay.” “Your hand.” He shook his head at the blood, reaching for his saddlebags to take out a strip of cloth. “Thanks.” I wrapped the wound and was about to get down to collect Faze when a man dressed entirely in black leather walked up from behind us. He was built like Ransom, tall, broad, and muscular. His dark hair was short and neatly combed. He moved with grace and a confidence that made me take notice. His face was clean-shaven, the lines of his jaw and cheekbones as sharp as blades. Other than the three stars tattooed on his temple and cheek, he could have passed for a nobleman in a Quentin court. The man picked Faze up by the scruff of his neck, earning a snarl from both the tarkin and Evie. “I’ll take him.” I stretched an arm out for Faze, but the man swung him out of reach. My heart climbed into my throat as he tsked.
“Interesting pet,” he drawled, his voice as smoky as his eyes. The magenta starburst of Laine was barely visible in his inky gaze. “Give him to me. Now.” I infused as much authority as I could muster into my voice and snapped my fingers. It was as close to sounding like Margot as I ever had—my stepmother would be proud. A baby monster, live and relatively tame, would trade for an exorbitant price on the black market. The corner of the man’s mouth twitched as he studied Faze for another heartbeat, then handed him over. Evie hauled him into her arms, burying her nose in his fur. “Who are you?” I asked. His mouth stretched into a smirk. A smirk that reminded me so much of my husband that my heart ached. “She doesn’t know who we are, Thora,” he said to the white-haired woman as she came to stand at his side. Together, they were terrifying. The warrior—Thora—didn’t spare me a glance. Her focus was on Evie and Faze, her eyes hard like she was debating killing another monster today. When her attention shifted toward me, her expression was blank and assessing. My pulse boomed in my ears as she stared and stared. Then she dismissed me with a blink and walked away, as if I was nothing but a trivial inconvenience in her day of monster slaying. Wow, she was intimidating. The air rushed from my lungs before I could stop it, and the man’s smirk widened. There was only one smirking man in this realm I would tolerate, and it wasn’t this one. “What?” I snapped. “You really haven’t heard of us?” “No.” He took a step away and gave a flourishing bow, another reflection of a nobleman. “We, my lady, are the Mavins.” No sooner had he stood tall than another one of the men walked over. His hair was a rich auburn, shaved at the sides but unruly from the top to his nape. His starbursts were as blue as Evie’s. In his meaty grip, he carried a bloody crossbow bolt. The bolt I’d shot into the alligask’s eye. “Want this, Jodhi?” he asked.
“Thanks, Mathias.” Jodhi took it from him and touched the green blood at the pointed tip with his gloved finger. Then extended it to me. “Did you fire this?” “Yes.” I ripped it from his grip. He chuckled. “Nice try, doll.” OceanofPDF.com
A M Seventeen CASPIA woman with brown curls holds a broadsword at a man’s throat. Her nostrils flare as she stares down the blade. It is too heavy for her to wield. The strength in her arms wanes, her hands beginning to tremble. But she holds strong a moment longer, enduring his test as she glares at his hazel eyes. He bats the sword from her grip, sending it into the air, flipping it end over end. He catches it and turns it on her in a blink. He lifts her chin with the pointed tip of his blade. His eyes flash emerald green. She backs away from the sword, walks away from the warrior. With her back turned, she does not see the color shift in his eyes. Gone is the green. And all that remains is silver. … y eyes popped open as the vision jolted me from sleep. It was the first time I’d had a vision of the silver-eyed warrior besides the one of Emery’s death. Who was the brown-haired woman? Would she lead me to him? “I told you that book was dull,” Andreas said from his seat at the table. The gentle scrape of charcoal on paper filled the room from his sketching. “And you were right.” I was resting in Andreas’s chair in the cabin. When our eyes met, the corner of his mouth turned up before he returned to his sketch. The book I’d been reading when I drifted off was splayed on my lap. Well, the book I’d been trying to read.
After suns of fumbling through language lessons with Andreas, I’d wanted to try reading, hoping that written words would help bridge the three-part gap between Nelfinex, the Beesan dialect—what Andreas called the old language—and Calandran. As much as I wanted to learn about Calandra’s different sports, even with the challenge of translation, this book was drab enough to bore anyone to sleep. My eyes had started to cross when I reached the second chapter that listed rules of a popular game where a ball was kicked into various sizes of hoops. This book would be markedly better if the author had included illustrations. “Sorry I don’t have anything else to read,” he said. “That’s okay.” I stood and stretched my arms over my head, wincing slightly at the tenderness in my shoulders. When Andreas went outside last evening to chop firewood, I’d decided to help. Too many suns without training had gone by, and my muscles ached from the exertion. The soreness was a reminder that it was time to stop lazing around in this cabin. It was time to do what I’d come to this continent to do. The sun I awoke in Andreas’s bed, dressed in his clothes, I’d insisted on leaving. So he’d escorted me outside and waved goodbye. I’d set off into the forest, limping on my sore ankle, following the narrow road that wound away from the cabin. I’d barely made it an hour before my legs grew weak and my head started to throb. My ankle had given out again, and I’d stopped to catch my breath. The next thing I knew, I was waking in Andreas’s bed again, this time dressed in my own clothes. He’d found me unconscious on the road and carried me back. The next time I told him I was leaving, two suns later, he’d blocked the door with his towering frame and ordered me to rest. So I’d rested. As the strength slowly returned to my body, as the sickness passed, Andreas and I had spent most of our time stumbling through languages and stories, trying to understand each other. He’d found me washed up along the Coraness River, and after rescuing me from the riverbank, he’d brought me here, to his hunting cabin, to rest.
I’d spent five suns with a fever, delirious and on the brink of death. He’d forced me to drink broth and water. He’d tended to the scrapes and cuts I’d gotten in the forest and river. When he confessed to changing me out of my waterlogged clothes and into something dry, his cheeks had turned a handsome shade of pink. Without question, Andreas had saved my life. Not just after the river, but by keeping me here so I could recover. And by teaching me about his continent and the language of his land. I’d learned we were in Genesis, one of five kingdoms in Calandra. The Coraness River where I’d been found was named for the capital city on the other half of this kingdom. That city seemed as good a place as any to begin my search for the silver-eyed warrior. I walked to the table, taking the chair opposite his. He eased his sketchbook away, tilting it up so I couldn’t see the page. “What are you drawing?” “Nothing.” The corner of his mouth turned up as he kept sketching. I couldn’t help but stare. His hair was pushed away from his forehead. His jaw was dusted in stubble. I’d spent hours studying the perfect symmetry of his face. Vexx. He was perfect. My aunt had always said that the Starling were cursed with easy infatuation. She’d blamed that curse for Emery leaving with Max. Oleana had always refused a consort or lover, not wanting anyone to distract her from ruling Nelfinex. But to me, it didn’t seem like such a horrible thing to open your heart, even for a queen. I liked to believe that as Starling, we simply recognized a good person when we found one. And Andreas was a good man. An easy infatuation with a kind, generous, and handsome man didn’t seem like a curse. In another life, I’d stop letting him sleep in that chair and invite him to share the bed with me instead. Divine, I wished I could draw. When I left this cabin, I wanted something to remember him by. Maybe a sketch of him in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up his honed forearms as he kneaded dough for bread. Or
maybe a drawing of him chopping wood, his muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt as he swung the ax. Mostly, I wanted something to help me remember his tawny eyes. Andreas looked at me and the rest of the world would fade to gray. It didn’t seem fair that our time was coming to an end. As quickly as I could move, I reached for the sketchbook. Except I wasn’t fast enough. Andreas snapped it closed, though not before I caught a glimpse of my face. He’d drawn me in his chair. His grin made my stomach flip, and his laugh filled the tiny room. It was as enchanting as the man himself. And another reason that it was time for me to move on. If I didn’t go soon, I might never leave this cabin. “Are you hungry?” he asked, setting the sketchbook aside to rake a hand through his sandy hair. “Yes.” Hungry to touch his hair. To thread it through my fingers. To press my lips to his and find out if they were as soft as they appeared. I would give almost anything to feel the strength of his arms wrapped around my body. I wanted to kiss the hollow below his throat and taste his skin. When I met his gaze, it was hungry. His tongue darted out to lick his lower lip. My mouth parted, and my breath hitched. He cleared his throat, eyes dropping to the table. As much as I wanted to give in to this attraction, to let the tension between us snap, if I surrendered now, there was no way I’d leave. So I spoke the words I’d been dreading for suns. “I have to leave, Andreas.” The room went silent save for my pounding heart. The desire from a moment ago vanished from his gaze. With one fluid motion, he stood, the backs of his knees sending his chair scraping across the floor. “Nelvi’o.” No. He spoke it in the old language so there would be no doubt of what he was saying. It was exactly what I wanted to hear. And the opposite of what I needed to do. “I must find my cousin.”
Andreas paced the width of the room, running a hand over his face as he shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.” “I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been.” Strong enough to leave. Something had changed within my body since I arrived at the cabin. My vision was crisper, so clear I could make out veins on a leaf from ten paces away. Whenever Andreas left the cabin, I could hear his footsteps on the road well after he’d disappeared from sight. And there was a strength in my hands and arms and legs that had not been there before. In Showe, I would have struggled lifting Andreas’s ax and swinging it over my head. It was a heavy and cumbersome tool, made for someone his size, not mine. “You’re stronger because you’ve healed,” he said. “You’ve rested. But you’re no match for a monster.” Monster. We didn’t have that word in Nelfinex. Nor did we have a word for the black beast that Xandra had become. After I’d described them to Andreas, he’d told me they were called bariwolves. Xandra had said she wanted to shift into an animal with more bite than a swift. Well, she’d chosen wisely. Bariwolves were feared all across Calandra. “I will be cautious,” I told him. “But it is time for me to leave.” “No, not yet. There is still so much we can learn from each other. I want to know more about Nelfinex.” Andreas had never heard of my continent or any other before, and he’d been shocked to learn just how far across the Marixmore I’d traveled. To his credit, it hadn’t taken him long to accept that the world was bigger than he’d once perceived. Part of what made him so undeniably attractive was his acceptance. He’d believed everything I’d told him. I’d told him of the continent Kenn and the country Nelfinex. I’d told him that his old language was similar to a dialect from Beesa, another country in Kenn. I’d told him I’d made this journey with my cousin and that we’d been separated because of bariwolves. In our short time together, I’d shared with him enough to satisfy his curiosity about my homeland while gleaning everything possible about his world.
And while he was beautiful and kind and compassionate and charming, Andreas and I were closer to strangers than friends. So I’d kept much of my life a secret. If there were shapeshifters in Calandra, I hadn’t asked. Maybe, if we’d had more time together, I’d have told him everything. Instead, I’d say goodbye. “Andreas.” I crossed the room, standing in his path as he paced. When he stopped in front of me, eyebrows knitted in concern, I forced myself to stay on my heels, not to rise up toward his mouth. “I cannot stay.” “You will not stay. There’s a difference.” I gave him a sad smile. “I will not stay.” He let out a frustrated growl, jaw clenched as he glared at the wall. Then he closed his eyes and sighed, his frame deflating as he took my face in his hands. “Caspia.” I loved hearing him say my name. Almost enough to stay. Almost. His eyes searched mine before they dropped to my mouth. Kiss me. Please. I wanted just one kiss before I left. A first kiss. And our last. He shook his head, his teeth grinding as he let out another of those frustrated growls and dropped his forehead to mine. Then he let go of my face and hauled me into his arms. A first and last hug, too. “Can I change your mind?” “Nelvi’o.” I turned my nose into his chest, breathing in the crisp scents of wood, his botanical soap, and his own masculine spice. Andreas smelled like the best parts of Showe and Calandra combined. Like two worlds colliding in a dream. I breathed him in, soaking in the warmth and strength of his arms. Then I let him go and walked to the kitchen, picking up the drawing from the counter that he’d made me while explaining the five kingdoms. A map. “When will you leave?” he asked. “Tomorrow.” Before I lost my courage to walk away. “And where will you go?” “I don’t know yet. I’ll search for Xandra until I find her. And while I’m here, I’ll explore your continent. Maybe I’ll go all the way to Turah.” “Why Turah?” he asked. I shrugged. “It’s the farthest kingdom from here, isn’t it?” “Yes.”
“Then by the time I travel all the way there, I’ll have crossed most of Calandra. And if I still haven’t found her, then I’ll turn around and come back.” It was a half-truth. A veiled lie. Andreas didn’t know of my visions, either. He’d presumed that my cousin and I had come here by mistake while sailing, and I hadn’t corrected his assumption. He didn’t know that I’d seen Emery’s death or that the ritus had called us here. Just like the truth of the Starling, I was afraid that if I told him about the visions and he didn’t believe me, well… I’d had enough heartbreak since leaving Nelfinex. When I left here, Andreas would be a flawless memory. Untarnished and infallible for the rest of my life. If I failed at everything else, if I didn’t find Xandra or avenge Emery or return to Nelfinex, then at least I’d have the memory of this perfect man to cherish. I was going to Turah because he’d told me many of their people were lumbermen. In my vision of Emery’s death, she’d been in a fortress with towering walls made of thick, fallen trees. It seemed as good of a place as any to search for the silver-eyed warrior. “In my family, the women have a tradition. We have a rite. We leave home and travel into the unknown to find the person we were meant to become.” “And this is your rite?” “Yes.” Even if I never shifted, I knew in my heart this journey would change me forever. Lifting the map he’d drawn me, I plotted my course. “Tell me again about the starbursts. What are the colors?” “Amber for Quentis. Green for Turah. Magenta in Laine. Blue in Ozarth. And here in Genesis, it’s persimmon.” The color of the fruit that grew on a tree outside the cabin. “But no silver.” “No.” “And everyone in Calandra has starbursts?” He nodded. “Everyone. I’ve never seen a person without them until you.” Maybe the silver-eyed warrior was from a different continent, too. If his eyes were truly unique, then it should make finding him easier. People would talk.
Now that Andreas had taught me how to speak Calandran, I could begin asking questions and understanding their answers. “Thank you. I vow to repay your kindness.” “Stay alive,” he said. “That’s payment enough.” “Maybe I’ll come back here. I’ll bring you a more interesting book and a fresh sketchbook.” He gave me a sad smile. “Then you’d better make your way to Quentis.” “Why Quentis?” “Because when you leave here, I’ll return home.” Then I guess we’d both be saying goodbye to this tiny cabin. “Quentis.” I touched the center of my forehead with two fingers. “I vow it.” “I’ll pray to Ama and Oda to guide your path. And to the Six to watch over your journey.” I shook my head. “Nothing good comes from the number six. Pray to the Divine.” “I don’t know your god.” “Then I’ll have to find you in Quentis and teach you about the Divine’s grace.” His eyes crinkled at the sides. “I hope our paths cross again, Caspia.” “So do I, Andreas.” He lifted a hand, like he was about to reach for me. But before his fingertips could brush against mine, he backed away. And when he walked outside, when the door closed behind him, I knew we’d just had our goodbye. OceanofPDF.com
T Eighteen ODESSA he village beyond the cave ginger bogs didn’t have an official name or permanent spot on a map. But according to Sryker, some called it Middle, since it was almost exactly in the center of Ozarth. The people who lived here were mostly farmers who went into the bogs to harvest the berries from their plots. Most would leave Middle once the growing season was over, returning to their hometowns and their families. And when the next season began, the village’s location would likely have moved. Huts and tents were scattered across the grassy plain. The structures were flimsy and small. Temporary. Nothing that would survive the migration. There were no developed roads, just paths of dirt that grew wider depending on the popularity of the place to which they led. The path in front of the mercantile was as wide as the shanty itself. So was the path to the shed that served as a tavern. But most trails were only wide enough for a single rider. The boom of male laughter carried from somewhere in the village, probably the tavern. Just like the camps on the Harrow River, there was no urgency or panic about the coming migration. Why wasn’t word of the scout spreading faster? We’d arrived at the village just before dark, and there’d been enough time before the sun went down to pick a campsite, secure the horses, and build a fire. After a quick meal, Evie had rested her head on my lap and fallen fast asleep. Faze was tucked tightly under her arm. My stomach was so knotted from today’s journey, I still hadn’t eaten anything.
“Is it always like that? Traveling through the bogs?” I asked Sryker. “Today was…unusual.” He sat beside me, the scars on his face illuminated by the campfire’s flames as he poked and prodded at the coals with a stick. “I’ve never seen that many alligasks try to break through the fences.” Nine monsters had tried to break through the bars on today’s ride. Thankfully, only the one had made it through. Still, it had been a harrowing day. If the attacks on the fence were unusual, then it had to be my fault. In Ellder, it had just been a theory that monsters were drawn to me. But I couldn’t keep ignoring the signs. There was something about me that attracted these creatures. Ransom had refused to let me test our theory. Well, this journey was test enough. How many people would die simply because they were unlucky enough to be in my company? The list of names in my mind, the people who’d been killed by monsters, was growing. Sariah, the woman from a tavern in Ashmore. Witt, a boy from Ellder. Luella. Zavier. Jocelyn. Brielle. All killed the night of the crux. Was I the reason the scout had attacked the fortress? The pressure that had been building in my chest all day made it nearly impossible to breathe. I couldn’t take Evie to Quentis alone. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if her name was on my list. “Oda blessed us by having the Mavins nearby,” Sryker said, glancing toward the band of warriors at the campsite beside ours. There were eleven men and one woman—Thora—in this crew of Mavins. According to the rumors Sryker had heard, there were hundreds of Mavins in Calandra, though no one knew exactly how many. They were loyal to no king or kingdom but had pledged their allegiance to gold. I hoped they didn’t expect to get paid for their services today. The Mavins had ridden with us through the bogs, swinging blades and axes at the alligasks that had battered against the fences. “You should find out where they’re going,” Sryker said, setting down his stick and pushing to his feet. “See if you can ride with them. Stay safe,
Odessa. May Ama and Oda protect you on your journey.” “Wait.” I shifted, carefully moving out from beneath Evie. “Are you leaving? In the dark?” “It won’t be the first time I’ve ridden through the bogs at night. Though I do think it will be the last. But if I leave now, I’ll make it home for Edda’s breakfast.” “What about the monsters?” “They’ll leave me alone.” He flipped up the hood of his alligask coat. “Sryker.” I moved closer. “You should leave the riverside. Take shelter soon for the migration.” “But it’s not time. It’s not supposed to come until spring.” “There was a scout seen in Turah.” His forehead furrowed. “I’ve heard no warning.” No one seemed to have heard a warning. Why? King Ramsey should have sent his pony riders or soldiers with missives to every king on the continent. “Please, just trust me.” He studied me, then nodded. “All right. Goodbye, Odessa.” “Goodbye, Sryker. Thank you. For everything.” I watched as he walked away until I could no longer see the lime green of his clothes. I bent and pulled the blanket higher over Evie’s shoulders, then squared my own and walked to the Mavins’ camp. If Sryker was right about the Mavins, maybe they could deliver Evie and me safely to Quentis. The warriors lounged around the fire in a circle made from their saddles. Two of the Mavins were playing dice. One was reading a tattered book. The others seemed content to sit on their bedrolls and stare at the flames in silence. Thora sat with her legs crossed on a blanket and sharpened her ax on a stone. They looked as comfortable here, beneath a roof of stars, as they would have in a cozy sitting room with a warm hearth. Each of them had lines across their nose, either one or two. Jodhi was the only man with three. And Thora was the only one with five plus the dots on her forehead and line down her chin. Did the lines indicate their rank with the Mavins? Jodhi lounged against his saddle, his hands clasped behind his head, his legs stretched long with ankles crossed. Unlike his companions, he wasn’t
looking at the fire. He stared at me, wearing an arrogant smirk. It reminded me so much of Ransom my heart ached, and I traced the scar on my palm. In another life, I might have found Jodhi attractive, but there was only one man who made my pulse flutter. “Look lively, boys,” Jodhi said. “We’ve got a visitor.” The men spared me chaste glances, then went back to whatever it was they were doing. Thora glanced up, sneered, and continued sharpening her blade. She seemed like the person I’d have to ask for help, and the first person to tell me no. “What can we do for you, doll?” Jodhi asked. I forced a smile, ignoring the endearment, and stopped at the edge of their circle. “I was wondering where you’re traveling.” A few shared looks between themselves, letting out quiet laughs. Jodhi jackknifed to a seat, his grin spreading. “We travel wherever the coin leads.” Exactly the answer I expected. “We need to get to Quentis. I will pay you to take us.” “How much?” “Name your price.” That drew the attention of a few others. The men playing dice set their game aside. Jodhi looked me up and down, skepticism filling his dark-brown eyes. “Sorry, doll. I don’t think you can afford us.” “One thousand zillahs. Each.” They’d each need a chest to carry that much coin. A zillah was ten times the value of a darric, and that much gold would make them all wealthy. The offer should have been enough for me to be taken seriously, but all eleven men burst out laughing. “You’ve got twelve thousand zillahs in those saddlebags?” Jodhi asked. “Well, no. I’ll have to pay you once we arrive in Roslo.” “We get paid up front. No exceptions,” he said. “I-I don’t have anything.” “You’ve got a rather fancy sword.” “Yes, I do. And I’ll be keeping that fancy sword for myself.”
A Jodhi steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “How about that pet?” Faze? My nostrils flared. “Absolutely not.” “Then we can’t help you, doll.” “Odessa,” I corrected, hands fisting. “My name is Odessa.” “Your name could be Queen Kasan, and it wouldn’t matter. We don’t do anything for free. And we don’t do anything unless we get paid first.” The man with auburn hair, Mathias, chuckled. “We’ve got pockets to fill before the migration.” Well, you won’t have to wait long. I turned to retreat to my own fire. “Stop.” Thora’s voice cut through the silence. “What did you say?” Damn. I’d said that out loud, hadn’t I? I cringed before spinning to face the Mavins, and this time, I had their undivided attention. Jodhi patted the ground beside him. “Have a seat, doll.” It wasn’t a suggestion. hush settled over the group. It hadn’t taken me long to tell them about the crux scout that had attacked Ellder. There wasn’t much to say. It came. It killed. I left. “How long ago was this?” Jodhi’s teasing tone and arrogant smirk had vanished the moment I took a seat at his side. “Twenty days, I think? Give or take a few.” The days had blurred together since we left Ellder. “Fuck.” A bulky man with Genesis starbursts and spiked blond hair leaped to his feet and began packing up his things. “Mose. Don’t.” One of the men playing dice stood and went to stand in front of Mose as he picked up his saddle. “If he finds out…” Who was he? And what was he finding out? “I don’t care,” Mose snapped. “Get out of my way.” The other man didn’t move. “At least wait until dawn, Mose,” Jodhi told him. “You’ll travel faster in the day.” “My family needs to be warned. To hell with the rules. I need to get them to shelter. I’ll be lucky to get there in time as it is.” “Let him leave,” Thora ordered, and the other man moved. “Good hunting, Mose. To bloody blades.”
Mose gave Thora a nod, then stalked off into the night to fetch his horse. “Is it dead?” a man with smooth brown skin asked. “Did the Guardian kill the scout?” “I don’t know,” I whispered. All I could see was the crux flying into the night with Ransom in her talons. “Why haven’t we heard anything about this?” Jodhi’s jaw clenched. “People need to be warned. Fucking Turans and their fucking secrets.” I shot him a glare. Maybe Jodhi was right about the Turans and their secrets. But in this, I couldn’t believe King Ramsey wouldn’t send word to the other kingdoms. I didn’t particularly like Ransom’s father, but at the very least, he’d prepare his own people for the migration. And if the Turans were preparing, others would take notice. “The Turans aren’t purposefully keeping the scout a secret. This happened in a very secluded part of the kingdom. And that monster killed more than survived. Spreading news doesn’t happen overnight.” “Well, thank the Goddess Daria we were lucky enough to save your ass today,” Jodhi deadpanned. I really didn’t like this man. Yes, the Turans kept a lot of secrets. Yes, it was infuriating. Jodhi wasn’t wrong. Not that I’d ever admit it. And maybe Ramsey hadn’t acted as quickly as another king in his position would have, but I refused to believe Ransom was keeping the scout a secret. The only reason he wouldn’t have sent word was a reason I wouldn’t consider—that he wasn’t alive to deliver the message. He’s alive. “You’re sure it was just the one scout?” Jodhi asked. “Yes, I’m sure.” As long as I lived, I’d never forget the monster’s piercing scream. “There should be others,” he said, speaking to the Mavins. “There’s always more than one scout. The Turans might stay quiet, but other kingdoms won’t.” “Agreed,” another man said. “And Salem would have sent word. Besides, the migration isn’t supposed to happen until next spring.” I didn’t know the name Salem, but I did recognize the disbelief on the Mavins’ faces. My heart dropped. “You don’t believe me.”
Jodhi shrugged. “Not really.” Asshole. I huffed and shoved to my feet. “Why would I lie about this?” “To try to guilt us into escorting a woman and child to Quentis, since they can’t pay.” I opened my mouth. Closed it. Wow. “You think I’m manipulating you?” “Don’t take it personally,” he said. “I learned a long, long time ago not to trust a beautiful woman who bats her eyelashes and begs for help.” I did not bat my eyelashes. Without a word, I stalked away from the fire, more than ready to return to Evie and Faze. I could see her from where I’d been sitting, but I still didn’t like leaving her alone. “Stop.” Thora’s order thwarted my plan. I crossed my arms over my chest and turned, giving her my best glare. She arched an eyebrow. This couldn’t be the warrior Brother Skore had meant for me to find. Not this woman. There had to be someone else. Someone who would help me keep Evie safe. We were running out of time. They could all pretend like the migration wasn’t happening, but I knew the truth. Thora set her knife and sharpening stone aside, then stood, rounding the fire and stepping outside the ring. She walked to me and stopped an arm’s length away. “Who are you?” A Quentin princess. The Gold King’s daughter. The Sparrow. None of those seemed like the right answer. I was Ransom’s queen. “Odessa Wolfe.” She stared at me, studying my eyes. “All right, Odessa Wolfe. We’ll take you to Quentis.” The air rushed from my lungs. “Thank you.” “Thank me with a thousand zillahs.” She looked over her shoulder to the men. “We leave at dawn.” And just like that, I was traveling with the Mavins. OceanofPDF.com
T Nineteen CASPIA May Daria grant you luck on your journey. Stay alive, Caspia. Until Quentis, Andreas he note, written in Andreas’s neat script, was on the table beside a leather satchel. Inside was a loaf of bread, a pack of dried meat, a handful of persimmons, and a pouch filled with gold coins. I wasn’t sure how much it was worth in Calandra, but it was likely more coin than he could afford to lose. Beside the satchel was a new map, the lines cleaner and crisper than the one he’d originally drawn for me. He’d noted towns and cities and rivers as well as areas to avoid, like the bogs in Ozarth and the vast desert in Laine. He must have drawn it sometime in the moon, after I’d given up waiting for him to return and fallen asleep. Then he’d snuck back into the cabin and left it all for me to find before dawn. The cabin was empty and quiet. I took one last look around the room, grateful he was gone. We’d had our farewell. And without him, there was no temptation to stay. So I pulled up the hood of my cloak, covering my hair, and slung the satchel across my body. Then, before I lost my nerve, I walked out the door. “Until Quentis.” …
The narrow trail that led from the cabin came to a juncture with a road. In the suns that I’d spent with Andreas safe in his cabin, I’d forgotten the intense vulnerability of walking through a forest alone. Even on the road, I’d never felt more exposed. Every few paces, I touched the knife strapped to my thigh. The temptation to turn back made every step heavy and slow, but I kept putting one foot in front of the other, tracking the sun as it moved over the treetops in a sweeping arch. I missed Andreas already. I missed his quiet surety and steady strength. I missed his soft smiles and resonant voice. And I already missed his cabin, almost as much as I missed Showe. It was strange to long for a person I’d known less than a lune. But Andreas was a man not easy to forget. I didn’t really plan to try. This walk had given me plenty of time to think about my suns in his cabin. About my aunt. About this predicament. About where I was going. Turah. It was going to be a long walk. There was a dampness to the air that made my skin feel sticky, so I stripped off my cloak and tied it around my waist. Then I bound my hair in a knot atop my head to keep the curls out of my face. The road was narrow, only two tracks that cut through the wood with a mossy strip of green between them. I stepped over the occasional horse hoofprint in the dirt, but there was no sign of other people. Birds chirped as they flew overhead, winging from branch to branch. I’d spotted a chipmunk earlier, skittering across a fallen log. Every few steps, I scanned the forest, searching for any sign of predators or danger. Was this the same road that Xandra and I had been on? Would I find her paw prints in the earth? Would I stumble upon my lost pack? I tapped my pocket, feeling Emery’s elfalter rings. At least I hadn’t lost them. How much would they bring in Calandra? If I hired a ship to take me home, would I be able to find my way to Nelfinex? I should have paid more attention to Cap’s charts while aboard the Cirrina. If only I could shift. Flying over this continent as a swift would make my task so much easier. But with every passing sun that the thrum of the ritus didn’t return, I lost another sliver of hope.
Maybe I’d be trapped in Calandra. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing if I was in Quentis with Andreas. A low snarl yanked me out of my thoughts, and I slowed, sweeping my gaze left to right, right to left, searching for the source of the noise. Don’t be a bariwolf. Please, don’t let it be a bariwolf. I turned in a circle, my pulse racing, as another snarl carried through the trees. When I faced forward again, a fenek stood on the road, its tusks gleaming white. “Oh, thank the Divine.” I exhaled and pressed a hand to my pounding heart. Then I dropped to a knee, holding out a hand to the beast, palm up. “Hello, pet.” The fenek snarled and took a step forward. “Come here,” I cooed, waiting as it took another step. The cinnamon fur on its throat vibrated as it snarled again. It bared its teeth, dropping its head and shoulders lower like it was going to pounce. Its ears were tucked back tight. “Easy,” I murmured. “I won’t hurt you.” The fenek snapped and growled, prowling closer and closer. The hairs on my arms stood on end as I stared into its mint-green eyes. Fenek in Nelfinex were sweet, gentle creatures and our most beloved pets. Except this animal didn’t seem interested in getting a scratch behind its furry ears. All I saw was predatory hunger and primal rage. A chill ran down my spine as I slowly rose to my feet. “By the Divine, I vow not to hurt you.” The fenek opened its mouth, those tusks ready to sink into my flesh. No. This could not be happening. Those of the Starling bloodline could calm and soothe the beasts of this world. We could tame and ride. A tutor once told me I had a way with animals the likes of which she’d never seen before. I wasn’t going to run from this creature. So I held the fenek’s gaze, refusing to cower as it snarled. “You don’t scare me, little friend.” The beast stopped, tilting its head to the side. It lifted its ears and pointed them forward as it rose from the crouch. One swish of its bushy tail, but it was enough to give me hope that not all was lost. “That’s better.” I smiled, dropping my shoulders from my ears as I held out my hand again.
The attack happened in a blink. The fenek leaped toward me, jaw wide with teeth and tusks ready to tear my body to slivers. I moved faster than I’d ever moved before, twisting to the side so the beast flew past me. It crashed into the ground with a yelp, then its claws scratched at the dirt as it regained its footing and once more came at me with a ferocity I’d only seen once. With the bariwolves. Once more I dodged the little beast as it jumped for me, planting both hands on its ribs and pushing it away. My knives stayed in their sheaths. I’d made a vow not to hurt this beast. The Starling kept their vows. I spun around and ran. My boots thudded on the dirt, and though I was somehow faster in this land than I had been in Nelfinex, I was no match for the fenek. It snarled as it chased me down the road. With a leap, it hooked its tusks on the hem of the cloak tied around my waist, pulling hard enough to jerk me backward and nearly drag me down. But my feet seemed to work of their own volition, stepping and spinning, as I tugged the knot free and let the cloak fall away. It was tangled in the fenek’s tusks. While it shook and thrashed, trying to loosen the fabric, I made my break. With one arm pumping and the other holding the satchel so it didn’t bounce against my hip, I ran fast and hard. A familiar snarl made my stomach drop. When I glanced back, the fenek was after me again. My hand went to a knife, ripping it free. The beast’s paws seemed to float over the ground, its lithe body moving with such fluidity and speed, it was a streak of orange against a backdrop of green. “Stop,” I screamed as tears filled my eyes. I didn’t want to break my vow. I didn’t want to kill this creature. But if it meant my life, then so be it. The growl at my heels was murderous. I tightened my grip on my blade and turned, ready to slash the fenek’s throat. It bounded off the ground, but before we could collide, the whistle of an arrow shot through the forest and the bolt lodged into the fenek’s heart.
The beast squealed as it slammed into the ground, landing with a sickening crack. Its legs kicked, like it was still running, even on the brink of death. Then the air puffed from its black nose and it slumped, lifeless, on the dirt. “No.” A fenek was good fortune. Its blood should not be soaking the earth. “Caspia!” Andreas ran through the forest, a crossbow in one hand and spare bolts in the other. The worry on his face nearly broke me in pieces. I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sob. He slid to a stop beside me, dropping the crossbow and bolts as his hands roamed my body, searching for injury. “Are you hurt?” “No.” I shook my head, sucking in a ragged breath. “Ama and Oda.” With his hand, he made a sign in the air, twin teardrops that joined over his heart. Then he pulled me into his arms, holding me tight to his chest. Andreas had told me that gesture was called signing the Eight. It was a show of reverence to his gods. To the Mother and Father and their children, the Six, who’d cursed Calandra with monsters. Monsters like the fenek. Divine, take me from this place. “Are you all right?” he asked. “No.” I squeezed my eyes shut, not able to look at the dead fenek. “Where I come from, they are not monsters.” They weren’t vicious or bloodthirsty. They didn’t attack or bite. They were gentle and smart and steadfast. We let children pick their favorites from every litter because the fenek were loyal companions, through life and into death. “I had a pet fenek. His name was Helvi’op.” “Helvi’op,” Andreas repeated in Nelfinex. “Hop?” I nodded, clinging to him through another wave of tears. Never in my life had I cried as often as I had since arriving in Calandra. Vexx. What a mess I’d made of this life. Of Xandra’s. All because of a vision. Maybe I should have listened to my aunt, done as she’d done, and forgotten all about Emery. Except I couldn’t forget. Because if our roles were reversed, Emery would not forget about me.
I sniffled and leaned away, wiping my face dry. Then I turned my back on the dead monster and started walking down the road. “Where is your cloak?” Andreas asked, picking up his crossbow as I sheathed my blade. “Ruined.” Even if I could wear the garment again, I wanted nothing to do with it now. It could stay on this road forever, lost to me like the rest of the belongings I’d brought to Calandra. By the time I left here, this continent would have stripped me bare. “Caspia.” He put his hand on my arm, stopping and waiting until I faced him. The lure was too great. My gaze drifted past him to the brownish-orange body on the side of the road. I crumpled, burying my face in both hands as a sob escaped. “You’re okay.” Andreas hauled me into his arms, holding me close as he murmured reassurances in my hair. “It can’t hurt you now.” On the contrary. Its very death was the reason my heart ached. But Andreas only knew these animals as monsters. To him, they were only useful if dead. I took a moment to grieve, then stood tall. “Thank you.” “Come on.” He took my hand. “There’s a village along the road ahead. If we keep a good pace, we’ll make it before nightfall.” “We? You’re coming with me?” “Yes. We’ll go together.” I wasn’t going to argue, not after that attack. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” He tucked a curl behind my ear. “I haven’t been to Turah since I was a boy. It will be an adventure.” I blinked up at him, sure I hadn’t interpreted that correctly. “Turah? But —” Andreas pressed a finger to my lips. “You said the women in your family have a tradition. A rite. You leave home to discover the person you’re meant to be. Well, I’m rather fond of the woman you are now. I think I’ll be rather fond of the woman you become, too.” He spoke it all in the Beesan dialect, his “old language.” It was faultless, like he’d spent hours rehearsing exactly what to say so I wouldn’t miss a thing.
I fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him to me, taking the kiss I’d wanted for suns. He smiled against my mouth, giving me a moment to discover the softness of his lips. Then he took control, wrapping those strong arms around me as he hauled me off the ground, my toes dangling as he kissed me until I was breathless. I memorized the warm heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips, and the taste of his tongue. And when I swallowed his groan, the vibration trickled all the way to my toes. When Andreas finally set me down, I was dizzy and my body felt as if it had grown wings. Maybe I’d never shift into a swift. But with Andreas, I’d still know what it felt like to fly. “Ready?” He clasped my hand. “Ready.” Together, we set off to explore Calandra. OceanofPDF.com
T Twenty ODESSA raveling through Laine’s dry, harsh plains was as torturous as my childhood harpsichord lessons. We were too exposed in the desert. Too vulnerable. And time was running out. Whether the Mavins wanted to believe it or not, the migration was coming, and this journey was taking too long. My days were spent listening for piercing screams and searching the horizon for black wings. But all I saw was an empty sky and a vast expanse of rock and sand. We’d crossed through Ozarth days ago and were now riding through the heart of Laine. If I’d thought traveling with the Voster had been exhausting, four days with the Mavins had redefined that word. We left at dawn each morning, only stopping to give the horses a break. Camp was usually made at dusk. “It’s so hot.” Evie pushed a lock of sweaty hair off her face. “Can we stop?” “Not quite yet.” We were both drained, but I wasn’t about to ask the Mavins for a break. Where our bodies touched, her back to my front, our clothes were sticky. Faze panted from his carrier, equally as uncomfortable. The sun beat down on us, and as much as Evie wanted to roll up her pant legs and push up her sleeves, I made her keep her skin covered so it wouldn’t burn. My lips were dry and cracked. The split in the center was bleeding. “I hate Laine,” she said. “Me too.” All around us were rock formations. Most were weathered, beaten and rounded by the wind. Some had been worn through the middle to create arches of different sizes, probably from ancient rivers that had long since
evaporated. The ground was dotted with the occasional patch of dry, brittle grass. And otherwise, there was sand. Sand that blew into my eyes. Sand that I couldn’t shake out of my boots. Sand that I tasted on my tongue, its grit stuck in my teeth. I loathed sand. Shades, I wanted a cold bath. I wanted to rinse away the sweat, wash my hair, and burn these clothes. Jodhi rode up beside us, wearing his ever-present smirk. The magenta starburst in his gaze was brighter, like his eyes recognized he was in Laine. There wasn’t a single bead of sweat on his brow. How was he not sweltering dressed in all that black? “Not enjoying the desert, doll?” “Not especially,” I muttered. “We’re too exposed.” “This desert is mild. Be grateful we’re not in the dunes to the east.” “I meant we’re too exposed to the crux.” “Ah. Yes, the crux. The migration should be starting any minute now, according to you.” Asshole. He still didn’t believe me. In the past four days, we hadn’t encountered many people on the road, but every single merchant or traveler we passed, Jodhi made sure to ask if they’d heard anything about a crux scout in Turah. Not a single person had heard the news. Jodhi’s smirk had been growing for days. I wasn’t anxious for the migration, certainly not until we were safe in my father’s castle in Quentis, but I was looking forward to watching that smirk get wiped off his face. A drop of sweat dripped down my temple, and I wiped it away with my sleeve. “Take off your shirt.” My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?” “Your shirt. Laine is not the place to wear a wool tunic. You’ve got something on underneath, right?” A thin camisole that was none of his business. “My shirt is fine and staying exactly where it is.” He shrugged. “Just trying to help.” “I’m fine.” If fine meant miserable. “Do what you want, doll. I will say, that pink flush to your cheeks is rather lovely.” He flashed me a white, handsome smile. A smile I was
certain had lured more than one woman into his bed. I rolled my eyes. “Go. Away.” He winked and stayed beside me on the road, turning his attention to Evie. “Need me to take that pet, pet?” Evie growled. Or maybe it was Faze. Neither liked Jodhi. Both were excellent judges of character. Maybe traveling with the Mavins had been a mistake. We hadn’t seen a single monster since the cave ginger bogs. The biggest danger we’d faced was getting lost. But the road was fairly well established, one that Evie and I could have traveled alone. “Wouldn’t it be faster to ride to the coast and sail across the Krisenth?” I asked. “Faster. Expensive. We debated it the other night while you were asleep.” My lip curled. “Too bad I missed that discussion. You could have woken me up.” “We tried. Thora kicked you. And you just kept snoring.” No wonder my leg hurt the other day. “So why are we not sailing?” “In case you are telling the truth about the crux scout, none of us wants to be trapped on a ship in the middle of the Krisenth at the start of a migration.” “I am telling the truth,” I gritted out, wasting my breath. “So we’ll have to go through the Evon Ravine.” “Yes. Have you ever been?” “No.” The Evon Ravine cleaved Genesis from Quentis. The chasm cut so deeply into the earth, it was said to be nearly black at the bottom. So dark that nothing could survive except obsidian and the chiropti—the bat-like monsters that called the Evon home. “You’re in for a treat,” Jodhi muttered. I wanted to ask if it was as terrifying as I’d heard, if the chiropti were as deadly as marroweels and bariwolves, but Evie was listening. “So…why Quentis?” he asked. “You asked me that question yesterday.” “And I didn’t like your answer yesterday. Let’s try again.” Yesterday when he’d asked, I’d told him that I was sick of the snow and wanted to experience a milder winter. “My husband is in Quentis.”
Jodhi arched his eyebrows. “Now she has a husband? How convenient. And he is in Quentis while you’re traveling alone with a child, on the cusp of a migration. You’re not a very skilled liar, are you?” “I guess not.” I squeezed my thighs and urged Freya into a trot. If Jodhi wouldn’t leave on his own, we’d do it for him. We settled behind Golding, a mountain of a man with warm brown skin, a bald head, and two stars tattooed at his temple. His weapon of choice was a mace. From what I’d gathered, Golding and Jodhi were traveling companions but not friends. They never rode together or camped side by side. And I had yet to see them speak a word to each other. Which made Golding my new favorite person. “Dess?” Evie asked, her voice quiet. “Why did you lie to him?” “To Jodhi?” I didn’t, not really. I was holding out hope that Ransom was in Quentis. “Yeah. Papa is in the shades, not Quentis.” This girl picked up on more than I realized. She believed, like everyone else, that Zavier was my husband. It felt wrong to be the person to tell her the whole truth. It felt like something Ransom should do. But he would have other truths to give her. I could explain this one. “You know how you have to keep secrets,” I said, bending so low that only she could hear. “About Papa and being a princess.” She nodded. “I have to keep some secrets, too. And my secret is about Ransom. Your papa was a very special friend, but I love Ranse. He is my husband. But we don’t tell anyone.” She looked up, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re married to Ransom?” “Yes, I am.” Ransom and I were always careful to hide our relationship. In public, I was the Sparrow, married to the crown prince. He was the Guardian, famed warrior of Turah. I’d kissed him in Ellder before taking Evie away to the dungeons. Maybe she remembered. Maybe not. It didn’t matter. This was already more than a four-year-old should have to understand.
“Oh.” Her shoulders sagged, and then she sniffled and her body began to shake. “But if you’re not married to Papa, then you can’t be my mama. Where do I go?” “Oh, Evie.” My heart cracked, and the pain made it hard to breathe. I held her close, bending to kiss her hair. “With me. Always with me. No matter what. Okay?” She nodded as the tears kept falling. Someday, I hoped this would all be a distant memory. I hoped she’d smile more often than not. I wasn’t her mother, but I’d hold a mother’s hope that this beautiful girl would overcome her grief. And she might not know it yet, but she wasn’t alone. She had her brother. I touched my scar as I hugged Evie tighter. We rode until the sun touched the horizon. Thora, always at the front of the Mavins, broke off from the road, taking a path to a nearby outcropping of rock with a cluster of sparse trees. Only when she swung off her horse did the rest of us bother to do the same. By nightfall, the roaring campfire was surrounded by saddles. Evie and I had taken Mose’s place after he left the Mavins in Middle. Five of the bedrolls were empty, the men having spread them out before riding off to hunt. While the days were scorching, the nights were cold. I folded our blanket in half, the bottom to keep us out of the sand, the top barely enough to keep us warm. “Not too far,” I told Evie as she played with Faze outside of the ring of saddles. Then I took a seat, brushing the cursed sand from my pants. “You said your last name was Wolfe,” Jodhi said from his place across the fire. No matter which spot in the circle I chose, he was always in the spot directly across from mine so that whenever I looked up, he was there. Taunting me seemed to be his new favorite hobby. “Is that your husband’s last name?” “Yes.” “And what was your last name?” “Why does it matter?” He shrugged. “Call it curiosity. A woman who can pay a thousand zillahs for each of us should have a fairly recognizable last name.”
“Shut up, Jodhi. Your voice is giving me a headache.” Thora was sharpening a knife. “Besides, you already know her name. Stop tormenting the Sparrow.” My jaw dropped. Jodhi grinned. “Thora always ruins my fun.” “You knew?” I gaped at them both. “How?” “The Mavins make it their business to keep tabs on the happenings of each royal family. You’re the only Princess Odessa in Calandra. And if you were in Turah, you must have gone as the Sparrow instead of your sister.” Well, she wasn’t wrong. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “I don’t give a damn who you are, Princess. I’m after the Gold King’s coin. I have a debt to settle, and he’s going to help me do it.” I was simply a means to an end. For the past four days, I’d convinced myself that I’d taken back some semblance of control. That I was no longer being manipulated by the Voster. I was even proud of myself for hiring the Mavins and making it all the way to Laine in one piece. Except I was still just a pawn. Control was an illusion. Thora would use me for her own gain. Fair enough. I was using her, too. All I cared about was getting Evie to Quentis and finding Ransom. Jodhi crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze shifting past my shoulder to where Evie was still playing with Faze. The cunning gleam in his eyes was enough to make my stomach drop. “You weren’t much of a mystery. But I still haven’t figured out who the girl is yet.” “Mine.” I reached for the sword at my side, lifting it into my lap. Jodhi could pester and annoy me to his heart’s content. But if he so much as looked at Evie the wrong way, I’d drive this blade through his heart. Thora laughed. It was a raspy sound, a laugh rarely used. “I like her.” “Any other questions, Jodhi?” “Not tonight, doll.” He dipped his chin, then pushed to his feet, dusting his hands on his pants. “I’m going—” Before he could finish, the thunder of horses bounced off the rock, and the five Mavins who’d gone hunting stormed into camp. Golding came into the light first with a dead creature in his grip. He tossed it at Thora’s feet.
Thora sat taller, frowning at the dead beast. “I’m not skinning that.” “We’re not eating that.” Golding fisted his hands on his hips. I straightened, eyes wide as I took in the monster. A kaverine. They were nocturnal animals who lived in Laine’s sand dunes and could see almost perfectly at night. Its body was covered in thick brown-and- black fur, and its teeth and fangs and claws were snow-white. So were the two spiraling horns that extended from the creature’s skull. Their dung was called korakin. When boiled to mush and reduced to a paste, it was the strongest hallucinogen in Calandra. It was another ingredient in Luella’s elixir that had led to the creation of Lyssa. “We killed this one and another,” Golding said as the other Mavins joined the circle. “We’ll need to keep watch tonight in case there are more.” “Evie, come here.” I waved her back toward the fire. She scooped up Faze and came running. Jodhi scoffed. “A kaverine isn’t going to come near a fire.” Golding flipped the monster over, revealing a cut that traveled the length of the monster’s belly. It seeped green, putrid blood. Lyssa. The kaverine’s eyes should have been yellow, but even in the dim light, I could see the milky-white tinge. Dair, a tall and lanky man with shaggy blond hair, came to stand beside Golding. “Are you all right?” Golding nodded, bending to inspect the tattered remains of a pant leg. The leather was shredded and coated in blood. Red blood. He snatched Thora’s knife and sliced away the fabric. His calf was covered in claw marks. “It came at me in the dark. Left a few gashes on my horse, too.” “Kaverine are vicious,” Jodhi said. “Nothing like this.” Dair marched to his saddle to retrieve a healing kit. “The other one was just as bloodthirsty. I cut off its horns and a leg with my ax. Still kept coming.” My gaze was locked on Golding’s legs. “Did it bite you?” Everyone’s attention swung to me at once. Thora shifted to her knees, standing slowly. “Why do you ask?” “Did it bite you?” I repeated. “No.”
The air rushed from my lungs. “Good.” “All right, Princess.” Thora crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you know?” Maybe this was a story I shouldn’t share. Ransom had always kept Lyssa a secret because he’d feared it would only cause a panic. But people should panic. About this and the migration. Besides, there was a very real chance the Mavins wouldn’t believe me anyway. I swallowed hard. “It’s an infection. And it’s called Lyssa.” OceanofPDF.com
“C B E Twenty-One CASPIA aspia?” Andreas slipped his arm behind my shoulders. “Are you all right? You’ve been quiet today.” “Yes,” I lied. “Just tired.” Tired of last moon’s vision running through my mind on a loop. … odies litter a courtyard walled by towering logs. Fires rage all around me, smoke billowing like clouds. A chorus of growls and clicks mingles with harrowing screams. “Xandra.” Tears stream down my face as I watch death prowl over puddles of blood. This is not my cousin. This is not a Starling. Andreas’s lifeless body lies at my feet. His throat is missing. The ring I gave him during our wedding glows in the firelight. I close my eyes as death snarls. And let the Divine call me home. … very time I closed my eyes, I saw his dead body. I burrowed into Andreas’s side, willing the image of his death out of my mind, as I stared at the fire he’d built for camp. We were curled against a fallen log, our legs extended and covered by a blanket to ward off the cold. It was dark, the two moons obscured by a thick layer of clouds. Dark enough to hide the tears swimming in my eyes.
What did that vision mean? Never in my life had a vision been about me. And never in my life had I seen a glimpse of the future. It was always the past. Always events that had already taken place for other people. It wasn’t a dream. It had the same crisp, clear edges as a vision. The same lasting image that I’d remember until the end. “You’re shivering.” Andreas pulled the blanket higher. My entire body trembled, but it had nothing to do with the stormy weather. “It’s cold tonight.” “The seasons are changing,” he said. “It will be winter soon.” “Winter?” I didn’t understand that word. “The coldest of the four seasons. Summer. Spring. Winter. Fall.” “We don’t have seasons in Nelfinex.” “It’s not my favorite, but I love spring in Quentis,” he said. “It’s beautiful. Lush and green and bright. You’ll see when I take you there.” Would he? If we kept going on this path, traveling to Turah, would Andreas survive? Or was this vision a gift from the Divine? This could be a warning that I was on the wrong path. What if I found Xandra, but rather than me saving her life, she took ours instead? Another shiver ran through my bones. We’d been traveling across Calandra, and though the suns had been long and grueling, they were worth it for the moons we’d slept beneath the stars. Except there were no stars. Was that another omen of the death that awaited us at this journey’s end? We’d followed the road through the forests of Genesis to Coraness, the capital situated at the base of the Elroose Mountains. The city was a cluster of buildings with tall, pointed roofs. From red to blue to yellow to green, each structure was painted a bold hue. Even some of the city’s stone streets were stained with color. Coraness was a place I could have explored for summers, but we’d only taken one moon’s rest at an inn on the outskirts of the city before buying two horses and leaving the capital behind. But it had been nice to see that there were cities in Calandra. It was still unsettling how much open space there was between towns. How few people lived on this continent. Or maybe they simply resided in other places, like Quentis.
We’d ridden north, traveling along the foothills until we crossed into Laine. So far, this country seemed as sparsely populated as Genesis. It was so different from Kenn and Nelfinex. Trees had given way to barren rock. It wasn’t exactly like the landscape in Showe, but it was similar enough to make me homesick. When I’d asked Andreas why there weren’t more towns, he’d told me that people tended to cluster in cities, where they’d be safer from monsters. We had yet to see another monster since the fenek. And while Andreas had gone to buy our two mounts in Coraness, I’d asked the innkeeper if he knew of a silver-eyed warrior. He’d asked me, in turn, if I was drunk. Andreas lifted his hand to my face, dragging his knuckles along my cheekbone, stealing me away from my thoughts. “Tell me about your family.” “I have two sisters. Emery and Saskia.” “And your parents?” “My father died five lunes before I was born.” Emery and Saskia remembered him enough to tell me stories. He’d been the captain of the Royal Blades, nearly twenty summers older than our mother. He died in his sleep one moon. “And my mother is…gone. She left us when I was a baby. We were raised by my aunt.” “Ah.” “Do you have sisters?” I asked. “Only a brother. Arick.” “Do you get along?” “Nelvi’o.” Andreas used the old language when he was finished with a topic. I tilted up my chin and forced a smile. “I’m ready for a real bed.” “So am I. Maybe we’ll spend an extra day or two in Skanshon when we get there. There’s an inn I’ve stayed at before with the best clam stew you’ll ever taste. And each room comes with a bathtub large enough for two.” I hummed, snuggling closer. Every moon, Andreas would kiss me until I was dizzy, but before it went any further, he’d pull away. In Coraness, he’d gotten us separate rooms at the inn.
I hoped the mention of a bathtub meant we’d be sharing a room, and a bed, once we arrived in Skanshon. “You’ve traveled often, haven’t you?” “I have. Once I came of age, my father felt it was important for me to see as much of Calandra as possible. My family is wealthy, and I was fortunate that they could afford to let me explore the realm.” “You’re wealthy?” I sat up, trying to match this new piece of information to the man who was stealing my heart. “Yes. Does that change how you see me?” “No.” Rich or poor, he was still Andreas. “Why were you in that little cabin?” “To prove to myself I could walk away.” “Walk away from what?” “The wealth. My father. We are not on the best of terms. I haven’t spoken to him in a year, not since I left Quentis. I wanted to live a lifestyle that he’d loathe, so I chose a place I’d never been. The cabin belonged to a man from Clefton. I met him a long time ago, when I was just a boy. He offered to sell it to me. I accepted.” “Will you miss it?” “Yes.” He nodded. “It served its purpose. I’ll come back to visit someday, but I won’t live there again. I can’t avoid Quentis forever.” “What’s it like?” I asked, curling back into his side. “Quentis?” He toyed with a strand of my hair, twining the lock around his finger. “There’s an openness to the countryside. Fields of wheat and grain that make a man feel small. It’s like being on a ship in the middle of a golden sea. My favorite cities are on the coast, where you can hear the ocean waves from every open window. Where it smells like salt and sand and every spice imaginable.” Like Showe. The way Andreas talked about Quentis, with affection and adoration in every word, was the way I felt about my home. Maybe I’d find a piece of my Nelfinex here in Calandra. Enough to fill the void in my heart in case I never returned. “You miss it,” I said. “Every day.” “I miss my home, too.” “Nelfinex.” He spoke the name often, always with a curious lilt in his voice. Any time I told him of my country, he soaked in every word. For all
he knew, it could be a string of lies. But there was never a doubt, never a question that I was telling him a tale. His trust was as beautiful as his smile. The guilt of keeping the truth from Andreas had started to gnaw at my insides. He was risking his life to take me across this continent, and he didn’t know why. “There is something I haven’t told you,” I said. His body stiffened. “Xandra and I came to Calandra to avenge my sister’s death.” “What?” He looked down at me, forehead furrowed. I took a deep breath, shied away from his warmth, and told him my truths. “My aunt is the queen of Nelfinex.” His eyebrows lifted. “You’re royalty.” “Yes. I am Starling.” “What does that mean?” “It means I’m a Nelfinex princess.” As for the rest of what being Starling entailed, well…that was for another sun. “My family and our bloodline have many traditions.” “Your rites.” “Yes. We call it a ritus. And another we hold dear is vengeance. To kill a Starling is a death sentence. I believe my sister Emery’s murderer is here, in Calandra. A warrior with silver eyes. And I believe he is in Turah.” Andreas’s jaw clenched as he turned his attention to the fire, his gaze fixed on the crackling flames. “That’s why you’re going there. Not to explore and find your cousin.” “I do want to find my cousin. And also the silver-eyed warrior.” “Why didn’t you tell me this at the cabin?” “I was leaving and didn’t think I’d see you again.” “Then what about all this time together?” He flung the blanket off his legs, pacing in front of the fire. “You’ve had days to tell me the truth, Caspia.” “I’m sorry. It wasn’t a secret intended to hurt you.” I sat on my knees and closed my eyes. “I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.” “That you’re here for vengeance? You might be from Nelfinex, but that is a concept we have in Calandra, too.” I gave him a sad smile. “No, I was afraid you wouldn’t believe how I know Emery was killed by a silver-eyed man. And how I know it was in
I Turah.” He stopped pacing, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t have dreams, Andreas. I have visions.” He blinked, then came to sit on the log. And listened as I told him about my sister’s death. ’d learned enough about Andreas’s expressions to know that the clench in his jaw and intensity in his tawny eyes meant he was surprised. And Andreas was not a man who enjoyed a surprise. He’d been quiet as I told him about my visions of Emery being killed by the silver-eyed warrior, and how I knew they were not dreams but glimpses of the past. It was strange how something that had haunted me for so long hadn’t taken long to explain. It felt bigger than mere moments. Probably because I’d left out a few details. I hadn’t told him that she’d been in a swift’s form when she died. “I would give all the elfalter in the world to know what you’re thinking,” I whispered. “Elfalter?” I fished my necklace from beneath my tunic, letting the orange metal glint in the firelight. “You have gold in Calandra. We have elfalter in Nelfinex. It’s the purest and cleanest of all metals. It’s impossibly strong, yet it can be molded under exactly the right conditions. It’s as precious to us as any gem or jewel.” Andreas studied the pendant, taking it from my hand and turning it to inspect the silver wing. “What is this symbol?” “The crest of the Starling.” He studied it closely before setting it against my chest. His eyes searched mine, his amber starbursts glowing. His expression was still too serious, too contemplative. “Do you believe me?” I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. But it would be the end of us. I wasn’t ready for the end. “Yes.” For a heartbeat, I thought I’d imagined the word. “You do?” Andreas shifted off the log, kneeling in front of me. He took my face in his hands, his thumbs dragging over my cheeks. “I believe you.”
“Why?” He bent and kissed the corner of my mouth. “Are you lying?” “No.” “Then I believe you.” I’d never had such faith from another person, even Emery. Even Xandra. Tears filled my eyes. Divine, I was tired of crying. “Vexx,” I muttered, blinking them away. Andreas caught one that escaped. “Vexx?” “Oh, it’s just a curse.” He thought about it for a moment, then grinned. “Here, we say ‘fuck.’” “I like your version better.” “So do I.” He sealed his mouth over mine, his tongue dragging over the seam of my lips. I gasped as he slid inside, slanting for a deeper taste. His hands moved from my face into my hair. They skimmed over my shoulders and down my spine, settling on the curve of my ass. He groaned, tearing his mouth away. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded, fisting his shirt. “Caspia, there are things…” He trailed off, dropping his forehead to mine. “What?” He sighed, easing away. “Nothing.” I let the lie stand. He wasn’t the only one at this campfire with secrets. Sooner rather than later, I’d have to tell him what it meant to be Starling. But not yet. “Do you want me?” I whispered. “More than anything in this realm.” I urged him backward, until he was resting against the log. Then I crawled to straddle his hips, taking his face in my hands. “Then I’m yours.” “You are mine, darling.” The endearment made my belly flutter. I freed the clasp on his pants as I pressed my lips to his. And as we stripped each other bare beneath a blanket of stars, as our bodies became one, I let my other secrets get lost in the dark. OceanofPDF.com
F Twenty-Two ODESSA or two days, I’d answered countless questions about Lyssa, most three or four times. Where Thora had mostly avoided me after the cave ginger bogs, she was my constant companion now, riding at my side as we traveled through Laine toward Genesis. From sunrise to sunset, as the mountains on the horizon grew larger, she’d interrogate me for information. My father would undoubtedly reprimand me for being so forthcoming with a woman whose allegiances were entirely unknown. But I had a feeling even the Gold King would find Thora intimidating. I couldn’t have ignored her questions if I’d tried. I’d told her about each of my encounters with an infected monster, from the marroweel on the Krisenth Crossing, to the pack of bariwolves wreaking havoc on the Turan people, to the tarkin mother that had abandoned her cubs. And I’d told her about the Guardian’s hunting parties and their futile effort to purge their kingdom of the infection. Thora knew everything I was willing to share. But she didn’t know that the Guardian, the crown prince, and my husband were all one and the same. She didn’t know that Evie was King Ramsey’s daughter. And she didn’t know that Luella was responsible for the very elixir that had contributed to the infection. I still believed Luella’s intentions had been pure. She’d set out to create a medicine to protect her children, to make them stronger. If Ransom hadn’t been bitten by that bariwolf, she would have succeeded. “I’m not sure if I believe you about the migration,” Thora said. “But I do believe you’re telling the truth about Lyssa.” “Thanks?” That might be the closest thing she’d ever given me to a compliment. I’d take it.
Thora held up a hand, slowed her horse. I did the same as she brought her fingers to her lips and whistled. The Mavins circled around us, their expressions stern. “Jodhi, Mathias, Golding, and Dair, with me. The rest…you have your orders.” Orders? What orders? My eyes widened as one by one, the Mavins scattered, leaving only six horses on the road. “Um, where are they going? They’re coming back, right?” “No. They have another task,” she said. “Though I expect your father to pay their thousand zillahs as if they’d escorted you to Quentis. It’s not their fault the Turans have been concealing a plague.” Damn. I really liked the idea of traveling with eleven warriors, not five. “Don’t look so worried, doll.” Jodhi chuckled. “We’ll keep you safe.” “Let’s go.” Thora jerked her chin toward the road and mountains in the distance. “I want to get to the edge of the skeleton forest before dark.” What in the shades was a skeleton forest? I swallowed that question as we took off riding. Thora took the lead, riding alone. Apparently, her interrogation was finished. Jodhi and Mathias went behind her while Evie and I followed with Golding and Dair watching our backs. It was nearly dark when we crossed the invisible border of Laine into Genesis. Thora led us toward a towering formation of rocks with a split down the middle, the opening creating a cave. There was already a fire ring in its center and a stack of branches left behind. We weren’t the first to spend a dark night in this place, and I doubted we’d be the last. Our campfire circle was considerably smaller with only six saddles, but at least we had shelter. Thora and Mathias sat to my right. Golding and Dair to my left, their bedrolls touching. And Jodhi across the fire. Always watching. Always smirking. Faze sat beside me, gnawing on a piece of dried meat. Evie was asleep and curled into my side, her body shivering. Each night seemed to get colder than the last. “Here. Use this. Dair and I will share.” Golding tossed me a thick pelt. A ruby-red pelt with pink stripes. A tarkin pelt.
These pelts were prized among the rich. But I doubted Golding had paid the lofty price to buy this hide. No, he’d likely killed a monster and skinned it himself. It took everything I had to spread the fur blanket out over my lap and cover Evie. In the morning, I’d make sure it was folded and returned to Golding before she woke up. “Thank you.” Dair laughed at something in the book he was reading. He leaned closer to Golding, holding out the page. The two bent their heads together, sharing an intimate smile, and then Dair put the book aside and rested his cheek on Golding’s shoulder. I hadn’t realized they were a couple. Every other night, they’d kept their distance, sleeping on opposite sides of the camp circle. Except now the other Mavins were gone. And maybe this meant they no longer had to hide. “It is forbidden,” Thora said, gaze locked on the fire, reading my thoughts. “When we join the Mavins, we vow to give up all ties. Past. Present. And future. But some bonds cannot be broken or ignored.” The night I told the Mavins about the migration, one of the men, Mose, had left to warn his family. He’d said to hell with the rules. “What are the Mavins?” “Mercenaries, doll,” Jodhi answered. I had a hunch that name was simply part of their illusion, intended to keep people at a distance. “Who are you really?” “Shackled,” Mathias answered, running a hand over his auburn hair. “To who?” A king? The Voster? “Salem?” Jodhi’s mouth flattened. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget that name. And you’ll never speak of what you’re told or what you see tonight.” Meaning, I’d never tell anyone about Golding and Dair. “Salem gives…incentives,” Dair said. “For keeping one another on the path.” “You mean the other Mavins would tell him about your relationship?” “Yes. If it meant their own debt was lessened.” “Oh.” So much for loyalty among companions. I couldn’t imagine any of Ransom’s rangers betraying the trust they had with one another. Tillia knew Zavier wasn’t truly the crown prince, and that was a secret she would be willing to take to the grave.