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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

It’s seldom that a sound defines the course of history. A cannon might blast through a ship, its splintering contact a declaration of the early sounds of war. A bell could ring through a city to alert its citizens to invading forces, or a king might wail into the quiet of the night at the passing of his wife as his grief begins to slowly steer his kingdom. But this night’s course-altering sound was sharp knocks against wood as they reverberated off the stones just past midnight.

People weren’t supposed to visit the orphanage at such an hour. Nox was only three, but she knew a few things for sure. The first: Running in the halls made the matrons terribly angry. The second: Swimming in the pond was a very bad idea. The third: There was never, ever a reason to leave your bed after dark.

Until there was.

Rain tapped on the windowpanes, broken only by intermittent rumbles of thunder. Nox sat up in the warm folds of her sheets, listening intently as the house matrons stirred from their beds. The rhythmic pounding must have woken them too. She huddled against the high, whistling noises of wind on the windows, conjuring visions of ghosts and dark fae with sharp teeth and long talons. She blinked at the sleeping children who lined the cots around her. The storm’s haunting melody and the staccato percussion of knocking didn’t seem to bother them.

A new sound joined the storm. Not just the waking sounds of the matrons, but the grumbling of angry words. Nox slipped from her bed and followed the noise. The muted sounds of sleeping children disappeared behind her as the banging continued. Perhaps she wouldn’t be the only one awoken.

Nox wrapped her fingers around the edge of the door and peered into the hall.

Though she hadn’t made a sound, the unfortunate orange of a candle hurt her eyes. She lifted her forearm to shield the pain as the shadow gave way to light. The Gray Matron stilled at the top of the stairs. The matron peered down at her. If she had been anyone else, Nox knew the woman would have yelled. Instead, the matron frowned and her voice softened ever so slightly. “You shouldn’t be out of bed, Nox. It’s time to sleep.”

The Gray Matron walked away without waiting to see whether Nox obeyed.

No, she would not be going back to bed. She watched with wide eyes as the woman disappeared down the hall with only the candle’s flicker to betray her place in the dark. Something was at the door, and if the matron wanted to know, then she wanted to know too.