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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

“Ancestors bless you, Moria!”

Gavril sighed as they resumed walking. “So much for a quiet and subtle entrance.”

“If you wanted either, you needed to give her a sleeping draught,” Ashyn said.

Moria rolled her eyes. “The street is lined with people gaping at us. We were hardly passing unnoticed. Gavril couldn’t respond to the insult, so I did.”

“Which I appreciate,” he murmured. “But I’m going to ask you not to repeat it, Keeper. You would do well not to align yourself with me.”

“I already have.”

“I’m serious, Moria,” he said, voice lowering as he moved beside her. “You cannot—”

“Ashyn, is the city what you thought it would be?” Moria asked.

Ashyn glanced at Gavril, but he only shook his head. He’d have the conversation with Moria at another time, she was sure. For now, he let the subject drop, and they continued on to the court.

Moria: Fifty

Moria

Fifty

Moria looked at the palace ahead. It was imposing—she’d give it that much. The wall around the compound was said to take four thousand steps to circumvent and it was so high they could only see blue-tiled roofs beyond. Ashyn had always talked about wanting to see this, not because she was truly interested in court life, but because she’d read of it and heard of it so often that she wished to see it for herself.

Moria wondered if it was what Ashyn expected. Or if Ashyn still cared. No matter what their message brought, it would not return their village.

The Imperial Way ended at the Gate of the Crimson Phoenix. Which sounded terribly impressive, until one realized that it simply meant “the south gate”—the crimson phoenix being the guardian of the south. It was not even a proper gate, but rather a gatehouse two stories tall, with flared roofs at each level, in the imperial tradition. It was made of cypress wood, painted red, with a red tiled roof. The first floor was for the guards. The second was a tearoom, where the emperor would meet dignitaries from enemy nations, which allowed them to be on the palace grounds but not truly within the palace proper.

Once again, guards spotted them long before they arrived. This time, though, they stayed inside the walls of the gatehouse as if they didn’t notice the party approaching, though Commander Alain had sent a runner ahead.

When the party reached the gatehouse, the men bowed deeply and respectfully to Moria and Ashyn.

“Welcome, Seeker and Keeper of Edgewood.”

There was no greeting for Gavril. Not a glance his way. He’d told her to expect that, as he’d told her to expect the overly warm greeting from some warriors, like the commander, and an uglier one from some bystanders, like the man who’d spat and jostled his sword.