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Chapters (61)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. Ashyn: One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Moria: Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Ashyn: Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Moria: Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-one
  24. Twenty-two
  25. Ashyn: Twenty-three
  26. Twenty-four
  27. Twenty-five
  28. Twenty-six
  29. Twenty-seven
  30. Twenty-eight
  31. Twenty-nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Moria: Thirty-one
  34. Thirty-two
  35. Thirty-three
  36. Thirty-four
  37. Thirty-five
  38. Thirty-six
  39. Thirty-seven
  40. Ashyn: Thirty-eight
  41. Thirty-nine
  42. Forty
  43. Forty-one
  44. Forty-two
  45. Forty-three
  46. Forty-four
  47. Forty-five
  48. Forty-six
  49. Forty-seven
  50. Forty-eight
  51. Forty-nine
  52. Moria: Fifty
  53. Fifty-one
  54. Fifty-two
  55. Fifty-three
  56. Fifty-four
  57. Fifty-five
  58. About the Author
  59. Back Ad
  60. Credits
  61. About the Publisher

It would have done little good to give them privacy anyway. Gavril sat across the fire, as silent and still as the rock he’d settled on. But he was listening to the conversation. When Moria stretched out her arm, explaining something to Ronan, and her cloak swung a little too close to the fire, it was Gavril who noticed first, scrambling up with, “Watch it!” and sweeping it away from the flames.

“You don’t want to damage that,” he said as they both moved back a step.

Moria murmured, “I know,” her gaze dropping slightly.

Gavril hesitated. He glanced at Ashyn, then he bent and whispered something to her sister. Moria shook her head. Gavril said something else. She hesitated and then nodded.

“Ashyn?” she said. “I need to stretch my legs. Will you come with me?”

Tova was on his feet even before Ashyn. Moria made a stop at her pack and pulled something from it, then they began to walk.

Forty-three

Forty-three

They headed toward the horses. At night, Ashyn could look out at the landscape and think she was still in the Wastes. It was flat land, with distant, irregular shapes that could be heaps of stone and rubble. But the ground here was soft underfoot. Earth, not lava rock. As they walked, their steps swished through new grass, and those shapes were trees and distant mountains.

This was what the Wastes had looked like before the Age of Fire. It was so different. Normal for other people, she supposed—the rich smell of grass and soil, the chirp of crickets and night birds, the unseen creatures that scampered out of Tova’s path. There were spirits here, too, quiet ones whispering past. She ought to revel in her surroundings, in the sense of life swirling all about them, so unlike the Wastes, so unlike her home.

But it wasn’t home. It felt odd and alien, and she knew part of that owed to the circumstances—there was no way she could enjoy her surroundings given the situation. Whatever the reason, it was not what she’d expected. She’d always dreamed of rich, vibrant, living land, and now she almost yearned for hard rock underfoot.

When Ashyn shivered, Moria started undoing her cloak. “Here, wear this.”

Ashyn shook her head. “It was just a breeze.”

Moria stopped walking and pulled her cloak off. Ashyn protested again, but Moria didn’t pass it over. She just stood there, fingering the supple leather and fur lining.

“It’s beautiful,” Ashyn murmured. “I’m glad you found it.”

Moria nodded.

Ashyn pressed on. “Whoever was supposed to have it would be pleased that you found it, too. That it went to such good use.”

“It’s mine,” Moria whispered, gaze down.

“Exactly. It’s yours now and—”