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Chapters (64)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  6. Pronunciation Guide
  7. Prologue
  8. Part One
  9. One
  10. Two
  11. Three
  12. Four
  13. Five
  14. Six
  15. Seven
  16. Eight
  17. Nine
  18. Ten
  19. Eleven
  20. Twelve
  21. Thirteen
  22. Part Two
  23. Fourteen
  24. Fifteen
  25. Sixteen
  26. Seventeen
  27. Eighteen
  28. Nineteen
  29. Twenty
  30. Twenty-One
  31. Twenty-Two
  32. Twenty-Three
  33. Part Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. Thirty-Two
  43. Thirty-Three
  44. Thirty-Four
  45. Thirty-Five
  46. Part Four
  47. Thirty-Six
  48. Thirty-Seven
  49. Thirty-Eight
  50. Thirty-Nine
  51. Forty
  52. Forty-One
  53. Forty-Two
  54. Forty-Three
  55. Forty-Four
  56. Forty-Five
  57. Forty-Six
  58. Forty-Seven
  59. Epilogue
  60. Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
  61. The Night and Its Moon Playlist
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. About the Author
  64. Back Cover

As a babe, Brel had been discovered as someone with one of the small magics. He possessed the power to speak to fire. Some of Brel’s first words aside from “mama” and “papa” had been the sort of magic that had caused the hearth in his home to spring to life under his crackling flame whenever he was hungry or cold. Brel’s village had been superstitious, with little knowledge of the magics or how they manifested in human bloodlines. On the advice of their church, his human parents had cut out his tongue to keep him from casting spells on the town.

When magic chose humans, she learned, it revealed itself in unexpected ways. The small magics did not pass through lineages and heritages the way height and eye color might but instead emerged in long, thin bloodlines with distant magical heritage whenever the goddess saw fit. There had been no way for his parents to have expected power in their perfectly ordinary child.

It had been a coincidence that Brel was discovered by a member of Uaimh Reev when the reever had been on dispatch to the little boy’s village. The reever had brought the young boy home to live in the keep, though he’d been scarcely older than four at the time, quickly becoming child, brother, and friend to all. Brel busied himself between lessons by helping in the kitchens. In the sanctuary of the reev, he could still train and grow in a place where his magic would be accepted, even if he would never again speak.

When Odrin had finished his story, Amaris had answered with the low, nauseated whisper that the world was a terrible place. Even as she said it, she couldn’t bring herself to fully believe it. In the midst of pain, there was good. While there was dishonesty and jealousy and agony, there was also strength, beauty, and power. She had seen this goodness every day in Nox, and she saw it now amidst the men of Uaimh Reev.

Brel’s parents had been afraid. His villagers had been ignorant. The man who had saved a mutilated child from a life of misunderstanding on society’s fringes had certainly been good. She wanted to see goodness in herself as well.

It happened so gradually that she had no way to mark its progress.