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Chapters (50)
  1. Praise for
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. City of Mariit: Capital of Maynara Map
  5. One
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Two
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Thirteen
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Three
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Twenty
  28. Twenty-One
  29. Twenty-Two
  30. Four
  31. By Order of General Ojas,On Behalf of Her Majesty Hara Duja
  32. Twenty-Three
  33. Twenty-Four
  34. Twenty-Five
  35. Twenty-Six
  36. Twenty-Seven
  37. Twenty-Eight
  38. Twenty-Nine
  39. Thirty
  40. Thirty-One
  41. Thirty-Two
  42. Thirty-Three
  43. Five
  44. A Coronation Prayer
  45. Thirty-Four
  46. Epilogue
  47. Acknowledgments
  48. Thank You
  49. About the Author
  50. Violetear Books x Bindery Books

Luntok had spent years climbing to precipices beyond his reach. He was ready. He wasn’t afraid.

The gods called his name, and Luntok was ready to meet them.

Thirty-Two

line

Imeria

No.

Imeria watched, open-mouthed in horror, as her son flew over the edge of the cliffs. She had watched Luntok fall countless times before: sparring with Vikal at sunrise, barreling down the streets of Mariit to answer Laya’s beckoning. He stumbled often, but never without grace, and always⁠—always⁠—within Imeria’s reach.

Her breath caught in her throat. I can reach him. I can save him.

In the split second before he fell, she lunged for him. But Imeria was too slow, too feeble. By the time she blinked, Luntok was already an ocean away.

“My lady.” She heard it as a low, distant whisper. “My lady, please!”

Dimly, she became aware of a pair of strong arms holding her up. Holding her together. Vikal pressed her face to his chest, shocked tears spilling down his blood-splattered armor. He held Imeria no longer than a heartbeat before he took her hand and started pulling her away.

“We must leave now,” he said, choking back a sob. “And Luntok⁠—gods help us. If we wait any longer, they won’t let us get away.”

Panic gripped the base of her throat. She jerked her arm back. “No,” she said. “We’re not going anywhere.” Her stomach twisted in grief. Not without him.

Datu Gulod darted toward them from the other side of the cliffs. He was ashen-faced, his waxy features stretched wide in terror. “Are you insane?” he hissed at Imeria. “What are you waiting for? Run.”

She cast her gaze at the flattened grass where her son had been lying mere moments earlier. Laya was kneeling at the cliff’s edge. The last orange tones of twilight glinted dimly off the golden plates radiating from her temples, her head bowed as if in prayer. Her right arm hovered above her head, cupping the air she’d used to strike Luntok. Her fingers trembled. The rest of her remained hauntingly still.

Monster, Imeria thought, clenching her hands into fists. “No,” she said again, as white-hot rage flooded her veins. Not before I kill this bitch.

She thought only of Luntok’s face as she barreled toward the edge of the cliffs.

“My lady!” Vikal yelled, his desperate cry piercing the shocked silence.

Metal flashed at the corners of Imeria’s vision. She glimpsed green sashes, stained scarlet at the hems⁠—the threat of Gatdula warriors closing in. She paid them no heed. She charged forward, thrusting her hand out in Laya’s direction.

I will make her hurt. I will make her pay⁠—

“No!” A broken voice rang out.