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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

Amaris procured something green, offering it to Nox. “It’s so pretty though. I knew you’d want to see it. Look at the pattern. It looks like writing in a distant language, doesn’t it?”

Nox took the leaf and smiled, agreeing. “It’s from a bug’s language. A worm does this.”

Amaris rolled her eyes. “I know it’s from a worm. I’m just saying it looks like writing from a far-off land, like in those books. I thought you might like it.”

“I do like it,” she promised, tucking it into her pocket. Amaris had the sort of habit that Nox was quite certain she’d die without. Whenever Amaris found a particularly twisted stick, a pretty drawing, a new book, a spare pastry, or a pretty rock, she’d bring the object of tangible affection to the dorms and offer it to Nox. There wasn’t a lot of room at Farleigh to keep odds and ends, but Nox had dedicated a sock to storing the treasures that could be effectively hidden from the matrons.

Amaris smiled with some degree of victory.

“Come on,” Nox said. She led the way, and Amaris followed wordlessly along the length of the hall before they let themselves into the Gray Matron’s study. Nox hung up the bishop’s cloak but was nowhere near ready to leave the room. It was far from her first time in there, but every visit felt like a special adventure. There was something about forbidden spaces that gave them an added weight of importance.

Agnes’s private study looked nothing like the rest of the orphanage. While Farleigh was a mundane mix of gray stone, simple linens, and cotton dresses, this was laminated with fleur-de-lis wallpaper and a plush carpet that existed only within the confines of her study. A gaudy painting of Farehold’s royal family, an embroidered tapestry of Gyrradin, and several decorative objects were mounted on the wall. Each time Nox entered never failed to conjure a jarring sense of incongruity. It was a bit like traveling to a foreign land that remained hidden within the always locked study of their very orphanage.

“Where do you think all this stuff came from?” Amaris asked, wandering around the room. “I’ve never seen anything new added.”

Nox shrugged. “Her past life as a dragon sitting atop a treasure hoard.”

“Are dragons real?”

Nox shrugged again, answering, “I don’t think so, but I know Agnes is real, and she’s enough of a monster for the continent, don’t you think?”