NIGHTFALL
THE WESTERN SHORE
He landed on the western shore of Vallenna under the cover of darkness on a midsummer’s eve. Black-cloaked. Hood drawn to hide the dark veins that scarred his pale skin. The crossing had taken a week longer than expected. Navyrian ships had been patrolling the bay. But he was here now. The first to land. The first Draken to set foot in Vallenna in over three hundred years.
Since the Dark War.
He’d been raised on the stories. The Vallennan scum had slaughtered thousands of his people. Left Draknor scorched and wasted. Severed his homeland from their source of magic – the Arcanth.
His hands fisted at his sides.
The Vallennans hadn’t suffered the same fate.
No, the Arcanth hadblessedthem.
He spat on the ground.
It was blasphemy. They were weak-willed, unworthy of such power.
But none of that mattered anymore.
He dropped low on the sand, listening. But the only sound was the gentle lapping of waves against the shore behind him.
He pushed himself upright. He had work to do.
He would learn their defences. Trace their troop movements. Map their weaknesses. He pressed his palm to his head. It throbbed with the whispers in his mind.
Renn. We are waiting. Do not disappoint us.
He stalked along the beach. The bay here was large with low tide; an ideal landing site. He headed towards the forests to the north. The soil was soft and held his tracks, so he kept to the rockier trails. He drew his dagger, shadows flickering at his fingertips as he did so, and carved a pathfinder’s mark into the stone for those who would follow. Unrecognisable to anyone but a Draken.
He walked on. The air smelled different here. Greener. Almost innocent.
It would not stay that way for long.
By autumn’s end, Vallenna would fall.
He would ensure it.
CHAPTER 1
THEDAUGHTER OF HOUSE HALE
It is customary for noble heirs of Vallenna to be betrothed no later than their twenty-fifth year.
–Principles of Vallennan Lordship, Article VII
Kara Hale’s hands were covered in the boy’s blood. Emerald magic seeped from her palms, trying to stem the bleeding, the scent of iron suffocating.
She felt his heart stop.
I’m too late.
He was barely full-grown. Eighteen at most. Long blonde hair. Dark eyes. She closed them herself. He had a dagger strapped to his belt – not drawn. A raider from the Ice Lands – only they would wear a heavy fur cloak during Vallennan summer.
Raiders attacked Hale’s borders occasionally, though rarely as far inland as Willowmere. Usually they’d take what they could carry and withdraw without bloodshed.
Not today.
