Chapters (64)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Pronunciation Guide
- Prologue
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Part Two
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Part Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Part Four
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Epilogue
- Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
- The Night and Its Moon Playlist
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Cover
The river they discovered was fast but not treacherous. Its chilled, crystal-clear waters were shallow enough to wade into without fear of being swept off one’s footing. The horses enjoyed it nearly as much as the reevers. Both man and beast splashed into its waters, dunking themselves against the heat of the road and washing the dirt from their faces. Cobb’s snout dripped from the exuberant way he continued to dip his whole nose into the river to drink.
The line of trees stopped a few arm’s lengths away from the banks of the river, allowing grass and stones to stretch between the bending trunks and the rippling water. They took idle turns kneeling on the gentle slope of the bank and filled their waterskins, each disappearing from the group for stretches at a time to rinse the grime of travel from their bodies. While Malik warned them that the babbling of the river’s current might drown out sounds they needed to hear from the forest, his caution was overruled by the other two. The lure of clean, fresh water took precedence over better judgment. They decided to sleep along its banks for the night.
The three had laid out their blankets and were gnawing off bites of salted meats with the watery light of the moon illuminating the river’s surface before them. A dark shape shot above them, blotting out the stars. The reevers noticed immediately, eyes trained on the sky. The shadow like that of a large bird passed overhead once, then twice. The dark figure felt terribly foreboding against the indigo of the late hour. Ash set his sorry dinner down and reached for his bow, gripping its limb.
“Do you see that?” he asked cautiously.
Amaris spoke quietly. “I think that’s the northern fae.”
“And they’re ominously circling as a greeting?” Malik asked, voice ripe with distrust. The man was not a coward, nor would anyone believe the title if it were ascribed to him. His worry came from his education, training, and instincts when it led to battle. He knew fear for what it was: an intuition that kept champions alive when an enemy approached.
“If I had to guess, I’d think they’re doing it so we see them. That way they won’t startle us when they land.”