Prologue
Shielded by sheets of rainand lost to the darkness of night, a hooded figure slid down the roof of the castle and landed with a gentle thud on the stone of a circular parapet wall. He darted along the narrow ledge, curving around the tower toward the window he sought. Years of keeping to the shadows and seeking out hiding spots to spy on others had proven useful to him as an adult. Being presumed dead had its advantages.
A balcony came into view, the same balcony where the king fifty years before had walked off and fallen to his death due to a sorcerer’s magical influence. A law had been put in place as a result: all magic-wielders were to be executed.
Rain beat a staccato rhythm on the windowpanes as the man spotted a dim light cutting through the black. Powerful influence over an unsuspecting servant had ensured the latch would be undone. He pressed his gloved hand against the smooth glass, and the window swung open, effectivelyannouncing his arrival. Lightning flashed at his back as he stepped through the opening.
The King of Marran jumped from his chair at the intruder’s arrival, the book he’d been reading crashing to the floor. Alarm pulled his eyebrows upward toward his graying hairline. King Mervyn stumbled back, tripping over the chair leg, and clutched a hand in the loose shirt at his chest.
“Guards!” he shouted, but no one came. No flurry of movement sounded outside the room.
“Your guardsdecidedto step away for a moment, I’m afraid.” The intruder’s low, menacing voice echoed the storm outside.He kept his hood down, rainwater running off his cloak in streams and soaking the plush patterned rug under his feet. Thunder rumbled as he took two steps forward, and the king untangled himself from the chair.
“Stay back!” King Mervyn reached to the table on the other side of the chair and grabbed a lit candlestick, holding it high, his steel gray eyes feverish in the dim light.
A single amused chuckle came from the intruder’s throat. The King of Marran hadn’t even bothered to be armed. He truly was a fool. The intruder’s right hand dropped to his belt, and he brandished something sharp and shiny, gleaming in the light of the flame.
The candle shook as a tremor overtook the king’s body. He took another step backward but met a wall, and his deeply lined face drained of all color. “Who are you? What do you want?”
The intruder pulled back his hood.
Disbelief mingled with fear in King Mervyn’s eyes as they roved the face of the man before him. In a shuddering breath, he whispered, “It’s not possible.”
“That I’m alive? That you are at my mercy?” The intruder stepped about the room, twirling the weapon in his hand.
“You tried to have me killed.” The all-too-familiar fury rose in the man’s throat, but he shoved it down. The mouse was caught in his trap. Hehad no need for rage here, now. “You want to know how I survived? The very thing you wanted me dead for. Magic. That forbidden sorcery passed down through my blood saved me in the end.”
The king’s throat bobbed, his wide eyes locked on the man before him. Light from the candle caught on a thin line of sweat beading across his brow.
“And as for the second question,” the intruder continued, angling his head to the side. “What do I want from you?” His voice dropped to a deadly decibel, rough as stone and sharp as a knife. “I want you to suffer. I want you to watch your kingdom crumble, helpless to do anything about it. I want you to know the same misery you inflicted on me.”
In a flash, the man closed the distance between himself and the king, gripping King Mervyn by the hair and jerking his head back to display his neck. The king didn’t put up a fight, powerless to resist with the magic that controlled his mind—a victim of the sorcerer’s influence.
“How poetic that a sorcerer is again the downfall of a king.” The intruder didn’t hide his sneer as he nearly whispered the words. “You may kill all the magic-wielders you can find, but it can’t save you. It only takes one.”
He brandished a long silver needle and pierced a vein in the king’s neck. “What do I want, you ask?” The man leaned forward, his thumb pressing the plunger to dispense the poison as his lips curled beside the king’s ear. “I want you to go to hell.”
The king’s eyes bulged as the poison mingled with his blood. The intruder withdrew the needle and wiped away the drop of blood that remained on the king’s neck before he collapsed to the ground. The dose wouldn’t kill him, but the man didn’t want it to. It would incapacitate the king enough for him to witness the fall of his kingdom until the time came for his end.
Without a glance back, the man turned to the window, leaping through and disappearing into the storm.
One
Captain Jade Ni’ihm wasn’t inthe habit of going against orders, but she had vital information her commander didn’t. Unfortunately, she feared she was already too late.
She slid her knife in the seal of the ground-floor window, unlatching it and swinging it outward. About fifteen seconds remained before the guard on patrol came back around and had this window again in his line of sight, so she had to move quickly. Jade listened for three heartbeats before flinging a leg over the windowsill and into the room. No sound came from the other side of the thick curtain, though she’d have preferred to visually clear the room before ducking inside.
Finding the edge of the curtain, Jade peeked out and confirmed that, aside from ghosts, she was indeed alone. She pulled the window to a soft close behind her and stepped around the curtain.
Plush burgundy carpets and ornate furnishings provided a sense of luxury to the room. Fully stocked bookshelves lined the walls of the nobleman’s library, not a single tome out of place. Flames roared in the fireplace—odd, considering it was nearly midsummer.
A body slumped in a leather chair on the opposite side of the room. The fire provided the room’s only light, casting flickering shadows across the corpse. An open book lay on the man’s lap, his hand slack against the pages.
Jade strode across the room, her footsteps featherlight and soundless. Count Aubergine’s head tipped back against the top of his chair. His open eyes stared at nothing, cold and glassy. Regret consumed Jade. She should’ve moved faster. What good was inside information if she was too late?
She had been commanded to stay outside, to survey the grounds for a potential threat, tonotengage. The military had obtained information that Count Aubergine might be the next victim in a string of murders. Jade’s assignment was to scope out the estate for clues that might lead to the unidentified killer. Aubergine had previously been alerted to the development but had insisted he didn’t need added security from the military, maintaining that his guards were sufficient protection. And if Aubergine chose to refuse the service, the military would utilize its resources elsewhere. So, technically, Jade was trespassing.
But Jade knew something the rest of them didn’t, so she’d chosen to go against her orders. She managed to convince the two troopers sent with her as backup to stay behind while she moved closer to investigate. It would all work out in the end if she caught the killer and possibly saved Aubergine’s life.
