Prologue
Ten thousand years ago, the world was fire and frost.
From the volcanic peaks of the Emberfall Range, dragons ruled the skies—ancient, proud, their wings blotting the sun. In the endless emerald depths of the Verdant Glades, elves wove light and song into living magic, their cities grown from seed and starlight. Between them stretched the Ashen Marches, a wasteland of cracked earth and forgotten gods.
Then came the Harsh Winter.
Ice wights—mindless, endless—poured from the shattered north, freezing rivers, cracking mountains, devouring all in their path. Dragons fell first, their fire no match for eternal cold. Elves watched from crystal spires, debating intervention. It was Lirael who broke the stalemate, flying on wings of woven light to the Emberfall Aerie. There, she cut her palm over the Heartforge and offered alliance to Queen Veyra. “Together,” she said, “we are unstoppable.”
Thus was born the Pact of Ember and Vine.
Dragon blood and elf-song forged the Emberflame—a weapon of pure creation that turned wights to steam. For a millennium,the races were one people. Dragon riders bore elf mages into battle on wings of scale and light. Elf song-weavers tempered dragon fire into precision. Cities rose where none had stood: sky-bridges of living vine and stone, forges that burned with eternal flame. Children were born with scales and pointed ears, speaking both tongues.
The world healed.
But peace breeds complacency.
When the wights were gone, old grudges returned. Dragons hoarded knowledge; elves hoarded land. The Pact frayed. On the night of the Crimson Moon, elf High Mages lured the Emberfall clan to parley under false truce. They bound them with blood-chains and drained them to fuel a spell meant to sever the Pact forever. Queen Isolde broke free long enough to burn the spell—and herself—with it. The betrayal shattered trust. Dragons retreated to the high peaks. Elves sealed their borders. The Emberflame was lost.
Centuries passed.
The Ashen Marches birthed Revaster, a scribe who survived Isolde’s fire and stole the Emberflame’s echo. He twisted it into the fire stone—a soul-leech that siphons life to feed his immortality. With it, he conquered the southern kingdoms, cursing villages, binding bloodlines, seeking to finish what the Crimson Moon began: the annihilation of dragonkind and the subjugation of elves.
Now, in the shadow of the ruined Drak’Vahl, a thief and a dragon stand at the crossroads of history.
One cursed stone. One fragile bond.
The Pact of Ember and Vine hangs by a thread.
And the world waits to see if love can mend what betrayal broke.
Chapter 1
Gamble
“Can’t stop. Got to keep running. Eyes open. Listen to the forest,” I whisper, my heart thumping inside my chest as I duck underneath an old Lantern Tree branch. “Don’t stop… Revaster is coming.”
But with the snow falling harder than ever, I know that I can’t keep running forever. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I’m almost ready to collapse at any moment. I need to find somewhere to hide out, and I need to do it fast.
The sound of Lord Revaster’s Night Hounds is just about audible in the distance. If I slow down or stop, it won’t be long before they catch my sent. And as soon as they do, I know that my days are numbered.
“Think, Gamble,” I splutter, hopping over the stone bricks of a fallen forest cottage. “Use your intuition. You might only be twenty, but you’ve known these forests and the southern lands since you could crawl…”
And then it hits me.
If I pivot back on myself and cut through the undergrowth, I could navigate a path for myself across the Salan River and thenhead toward the cluster of villages that surround the base of the Great Mount Elan.
It’s cold and getting colder.
It won’t be easy.
But I think it might be my only choice…
With that, I zig and zag back toward the undergrowth and crawl through the snow-covered dirt until I am on the other side, the trees spindly and white in front of me and a pathway toward the Salan River in sight.
I take a moment to catch my breath. My thick green overcoat covers my mottled brown shirt and trousers. The overcoat’s thick inner lining will keep me from freezing, but only if I find myself somewhere to stay overnight. Time is ticking—and it has been ever since I stole Lord Revaster’s precious fire stone.
Few and far between steal from Revaster and live to tell the tale. But I know that my family’s future could depend on it. With this stone, I can seek out a mage who will use it to fight against Revaster’s cruel reign of terror. If, and only if, the mage can enact the ancient spell, there is a chance that we can all be rid of the most vicious, heartless and sadistic lord that our land has ever known.
