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Chapters (53)
  1. Map of Kingdom of Finfalla and Surrounding Area- Western Half
  2. Map of Kingdom of Finfalla and Surrounding Area - Eastern Half
  3. Map of Kingdom of Finfalla and Surrounding Area - Full Map
  4. Important Trigger Warning
  5. Prologue
  6. PART I
  7. One
  8. Two
  9. Three
  10. Four
  11. Five
  12. Six
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Interlude: The River of Life
  20. PART II
  21. Thirteen
  22. Fourteen
  23. Fifteen
  24. Sixteen
  25. Seventeen
  26. Eighteen
  27. Nineteen
  28. Interlude: Fallow Fields
  29. PART III
  30. Twenty
  31. Twenty-One
  32. Twenty-Two
  33. Twenty-Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Interlude: Of Man and Monster
  37. PART IV
  38. Twenty-Six
  39. Twenty-Seven
  40. Twenty-Eight
  41. Twenty-Nine
  42. Thirty
  43. Thirty-One
  44. Thirty-Two
  45. Thirty-Three
  46. Thirty-Four
  47. POSTLUDES
  48. Postlude 1: Lana Vica
  49. Postlude 2: Ludo Vica
  50. Postlude 3: Cainan
  51. Acknowledgments
  52. An excerpt from Heartsworn, Volume II in The Forsworn Oath, available for preorder now!
  53. PART I

He sat up, staring at his dead wife. The sound hadn’t come from her blue lips, that was for damn sure. Then he saw it: a foot. It was protruding from her drenched dressing gown, tiny toes still nice and pink. Healthy-looking.

Kernan fought at the fabric, which had become thick and folded over itself like a slab of dough. And hidden beneath all that fabric, still tucked in the crook of his wife’s arm, as though she’d never stopped protecting him, even at the very end, was Ludo. His mouth was wide open, tiny tongue stuck out, gums on full display.

His wail was the most beautiful sound Kernan had ever heard.

Postlude 2: Ludo Vica

Last Dawn, Finfalla

Fifteen years later

As Ludo waded deeper into the pond, he wondered whether the sun was shining as brightly on the day his mother died. He reckoned so, for springtime in Last Dawn almost always enjoyed cheery weather, more so than Marchessault, which was known for being rather dreary eleven months of the year. Not that he would know—Ludo had never been more than a mile away from the heart of his village.

Two hundred and forty seconds, he thought. Four minutes. According to Little Tommy Mack, who’d heard it from Winston Kerrigan, who’d overheard his mother telling his father, it was how long Ludo’s mother had held her breath before succumbing to the waters.

But Ludo had survived. Somehow. Impossibly. He still heard the whispers from time to time, what they called him when they thought he wasn’t listening—miracle baby—but he didn’t understand. Why had the gods chosen him, a helpless infant, over his mother, by all accounts a strong, capable woman?

The water was up to his chest now, but he still took a moment to fidget with his eyepatch, adjusting it slightly so it wouldn’t scratch and itch. Anyone else who’d lost an eye to a fiery ember would be called unlucky or cursed, but not him. The fact that all he had lost in the blaze was his eye only adding to his legend.

Miracle baby. Miracle child. When he was a full-grown man, would it change to Miracle Man? Gods, he hoped not.

So what did that make his brother, Gado, then? Cursed? Unlucky? A tragic tale that could only be spoken of in hushed voices behind closed doors?