We turned our separate directions. Him, toward the darkness of the forest. Me, back to my parents in Maripol. I dragged my feet the whole way, hoping with each step that everyone lay deep in sleep.
That particular night, when I faced my childhood home, acrid smoke filled my lungs. The rabbit’s body dropped forgotten from my hand. Everything I knew had burned to the ground. Life, as I knew it, was reduced to ash. The curse I’d voiced earlier to Dom echoed in my mind.
My mother’s favorite scarf mocked me as it draped across the embers. A charred hole sizzled at the edges, mimicking the hollowed out space in my chest.
I didn’t even notice when a young wolvin prowled around me, nor when she nuzzled my hand as I stood paralyzed in shock. She sat down beside me and helped shoulder my pain.
A single tear fell. It was the last time I let myself cry. Dark rage clamped down, strengthening me. It severed me from my grief. In that moment, I knew everything had changed. And I was utterly alone.
I once had a friend. He promised he would protect me. But it was the last time I ever saw him. When I needed him most, he disappeared.
I’ve always wondered what happened to him.
Chapter One
THE SPY
Adistant tremor disturbed my sleep, the tinkle of crystals from the overhead chandelier splintering my awareness. When the sharp scrape of claws coursed down my arm, I jolted upright. Maelic stared with his reptilian eyes and smug smile. I swallowed my hatred toward the Good King’s second-in-command. Only he would have the audacity to enter my bedchamber unannounced. I lifted my chin despite my vulnerable position.
“There’s been another earthquake. You’re to report to the Rivellan Wood at once. Lock down the area and search for any rebel activity.”
I managed a nod. He waited.
“United in Strength,” I forced out the proper soldier’s response before bringing my arm across my chest and thumping my shoulder in a deferential salute. The realm’s mantra tasted sour on my lips.
Maelic pivoted on his heel. A piercing alarm sounded right before he exited my room. His chuckle echoed in his wake. I winced at the noise. Bastard.
I always slept in my fighting leathers when I stayed at the Keep, for intrusions just like this. I raced to the alarm to turnit off, the sound pounding in my temples. I glared at the clock while I gathered my blades. Only three hours of sleep. Precise movements readied me for potential battle despite my lingering fatigue.
Leaning over the basin in my bathroom, I splashed water on my face. The mirror reflected the ghost of a woman. Black circles under desperate eyes. A bone-deep sigh escaped me. These earthquakes had been increasing in frequency, and I had been sent on numerous missions to capture the rebels involved. I needed to get ahead of them; I always felt two steps behind.
I finished putting my hair into a ponytail, the tiny braids behind my ears swept up with the rest of the mass, while water dripped off my jawline. The braids were the one thing I could not release from my past. They served as a perpetual reminder of my mother and all that I’d lost. I grabbed a cherry candy from my nightstand, before popping it into my mouth. With a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and left my room.
A soldier of lower rank met me outside. He thrust a canteen at me filled with water from the castle’s spring—the only water soldiers were permitted to drink. I took it from him, single-mindedly focused on my objective. He raced to keep up with me.
He handed me a map, briefing me in the deserted hallway. “There’s been a disruption to an incoming Berine shipment. A warden has a portal waiting.” I glanced down at the map, noting the location within the wood. Frost built at my fingertips. I hoped I got there before the rebels scattered.
I emerged from the portal amid plumes of dust. They rose in phantasmic waves, mirroring the agitation radiating off me. Fog enveloped my movements as I surveyed the forest on the outskirts of my infected, though cherished, city. I absorbed every nuanced detail of the chaos before me.
The violence of another earthquake left cracks in the forest floor of the Rivellan Wood, set between Haluma’scapital, Maripol, and the bordering Auren Mountains. Felled trees, like scattered matchsticks, obstructed the terrain. These earthquakes had the reputation of rearranging the topography of the land. New rock formations and relocated trees left a confusing aftermath.
Remnants of sleep clouded my eyes as dawn crept beyond the horizon. The eastern mountains’ looming peaks and the spires of pines blocked out the meager light of morning. Wind rustled around me as I continued to scan for any signs of the Berine transport supposedly disrupted by tonight’s tectonics.
I lived near this forest, and knew it well, but the rearrangement of the land kept me in a constant state of reassessment. We adjusted our maps weekly when landmarks disappeared and the forest reconfigured itself. Importing Berine from the mountainous mines proved trickier every month.
This was my fourth investigation where land movements thwarted a Berine supply shipment. Coincidence could no longer be blamed. Our realm relied on Berine—a rare mineral extracted from the depths of Auren’s jagged peaks. The journey from the heart of the mountains to the arms of Maripol enticed only the most rugged of men. I knew the group in charge of this evening’s transport, so spying out a rebel should be simple. If I could find one in this hazy darkness.
I refused to blink, waiting instead for my dried-out eyes to involuntarily water. When my water affinity had manifested, I learned my tears revealed auras. They wafted off of people like colored smoke. Too bad I had committed to never feeling grief again; true tears eluded me as much as the rebel group I suspected was behind the earthquakes.
The rebellion, flowing in from the neighboring realm of Yarit on the other side of the mountains, had tightened their grip on our supply routes. They stalked the Berine caravans, hoping to choke us out. I yearned to return the favor.
The rebellion had shifted tactics recently in an attempt to dismantle our power from the inside, led by their general—whom no one had ever seen firsthand. First they introduced the addictive drug Glint to our citizens, the telltale golden dust it left behind lending to its name. Now they sought to reduce our access to Berine.
My fingers clenched, my anger always churning right below the surface when I thought of Glint or the rebels. My steps grew more urgent as my bloodlust increased. Kaida’s shadow trailed me, keeping other wolvin at bay so I had no need to protect myself against their vicious attacks.
The magic in Haluma had been decreasing across our realm and no one knew why. Magic entwined with our lifeblood; therefore, the loss of it was terminal, as evidenced by our teeming graveyards. When ingested, Berine would bind to the magic in blood, sustaining it. Unfortunately, it required daily ingestion to maintain, thus our need for a constant supply. It’s one of the reasons King Nolan provided Maripolians with fountains throughout the city—they would never have to worry about sustaining their magic.
I hadn’t noticed my own affinity being affected, but I worried nonetheless. Instinctively, I pulsed water magic out the tips of my fingers. My shoulders relaxed. Still there.
