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Back The Endless Skies
Chapters (57)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. Map
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. EPILOGUE
  54. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  55. Also by Shannon Price
  56. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  57. Newsletter Sign-up

“This is hardly a moment for flattery, warrior.” I exhale with a smile. “You have to ask me a question.”

“Is the cure what the scholars say it is?” Seth asks.

“Skies, I hope so.”

“And will you wait for me?”

I can’t keep back my smile. “Yes, of course.”

Seth smiles, and I try to memorize the kindness in his eyes, the stubble at his chin, and the thin scar near his left eye that I gave him early into our training days. I felt awful about it back then, but now that I’ve traced it with my fingertips on many moonlit nights, I thank the skies he didn’t take care of the wound as the healers instructed.

“Will you have a moment,” he asks, “before we leave?”

“I have to go into the city now,” I say. Well, the Princess Garden first. “But there should be time. We will have time.” To say goodbye and to make him promise to come home at any cost.

The love of my life smiles. “We will have time.”

6

ROWAN

I go to the spot right away, though I know Shirene won’t join me for a while. I need answers.

Sheltered from the ever-present winds, the Princess Garden is a beloved place for Leonodai. Today, families wander through the lush greenery while couples find solace in the garden’s shady alcoves. Sprigs of violet flowers jut into the air between dots of soft yellow blossoms. Pale green stalks reach their fingers skyward, their sturdy blooms curling outward.

I take a seat on a low stone wall that divides one part of the garden from another, shifting so that I remain in the sunlight. My mind spins as I try to build up my argument for Shirene, just as children build up castles in the coarse sand on the banks of the Crescent River. I have to go with a team. I have to do something other than sit still.

I wait for the better part of an hour. Finally, Shirene appears, stepping around the corner with the fine fabric of her dress flowing like water behind her. We share our parents, but that’s where the resemblance between me and my sister ends. Her fine, pale blond hair falls straight to her shoulders, while my dark brown waves go nearly all the way down my back. Where she can hold her tongue, I never want to. With seven years between us, we aren’t as close as some sisters are, but she is all I have.

“Shirene,” I say, the desperation rising in my voice as I hop off my makeshift seat. I don’t use her title. Here, she is just my sister. Here, she is my last chance. “Put me on a team. I can help.”

“We have to do as the king commands,” she replies.