Chapters (63)
- 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
Staying still would not serve them. Amaris may not have had the luxury of training with Gadriel before this moment, but they had the shorthand of warriors. The two sprinted for the far end of the arena as the quadrupedal serpent galloped for the center of the stadium, lurching backward against the night-dark well of its dungeon as its right hind leg caught on an iron manacle, the clamp and chains thicker and heavier than any work of rock or metalsmithing Amaris could have fathomed. Remaining pressed against the far wall offered them no safety, for the remaining distance could be closed by the black snake’s neck. Its neck alone was the equivalent length of its body, and that was before one even considered the monstrous tail it possessed. The creature beat its wings again, nearly sending the pair off their feet with its hurricane force. The enormous dragon was a worm, serpent, demon, and monster all at once. Its shrieks were the legions of the undead, its teeth the thing of nightmares. Amaris couldn’t look at it for too long or she’d lose her resolve. It may as well have been a large horse. A horse with millions of needlelike teeth. And wings. And one that knew no death.
“What do we do?” Gadriel asked, bracing himself against the gust. He was a general. He gave commands, not asked them—yet reevers were known for their studies of beasts and magic. If anyone would have an inkling of hope against one of the continent’s demons, it would be a reever. So few of the draconic beasts existed that Amaris’s only instructions had been, should she come upon one, to say her parting prayers to the goddess.
Yes, she was the reever. Still, incredulity surged through her. Gadriel was a leader. She should be asking him for battle plans. Yet whatever had led him to trust that it would be for the good of the continent if she killed him emboldened him to ask her now.
“We buy time,” she grunted before abandoning him.
Amaris took off with foxlike agility. She hugged the stadium’s edge as she moved. The dragon’s serpentine eyes followed her as she sprinted, and she sensed the beast coiling up to strike. The moment she felt the tension snap and the needle-toothed maw propel toward her, she used a move she’d perfected at the reev: she dove toward the enemy, tucking the drive into a roll and continuing her sprint toward its legs while the face of the beast careened into the wall of the coliseum. Its face hit the wall with the loud crack of thunder. The ag’drurath winced from the great force of its impact, unleashing another scream meant to melt the bones and minds of its prey with terror. There was one thing Amaris knew about being small when facing a large enemy: weight and size were as much a disadvantage as they were an asset.