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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

The coliseum at the Castle of Aubade was ten times the size of the ring at Uaimh Reev in the most modest of estimations. The ring at the reev had been a friendly place, with granite stairs leading all the way from its top to its bottom. Anyone training could easily run from the center of the ring to the crest of its stairs and back again. Here, flattened walls nearly forty—no, fifty—feet high surrounded every inch of the coliseum, save for another large door on the opposite end and a few other latched and bolted wooden openings, presumably to cells elsewhere in the dungeon. What mastery of masonry and crazed architect had decided on this smooth, cream fishbowl for its fights? The grandeur was absurdist at best, a display of the royal family’s madness at worst.

She continued her slow, careful rotation, assessing the stadium while her swimming equilibrium settled from the centurion’s impact. She couldn’t let her guard down again.

Those in attendance weren’t merely the courtiers from the throne room but the entire city, which seemed to buzz with excitement as they watched Amaris, child of snow and silver, stumble from her edge of the enclosure. Tens of thousands of voices and bodies screamed and roiled like insects in the stadium above. The heat of the blue, clear day felt suffocating as it reflected brightly off the sand. It was utterly disrespectful that the sun would bake down on them during a moment like this. This was not a day for cloudlessness but an occasion that called for the goddess’s rain, thunder, and wrath.

Amaris shook off her insultingly hideous juggler’s jacket and dropped it to the ground, leaving herself only in the bare shoulders of her linen shirt, bustier, and black tights. She would not die in the puffy sleeves of a court entertainer. The sun was directly overhead, which was something of a blessing as it did not shine into her eyes, allowing her to scan the stadium. She rotated, soaking in every detail of the enormous circular structure.

Only one small object accompanied her in the entirety of the great oval sands. The item was too far for Amaris to see what was with her on the arena’s floor. If it wasn’t moving, then it didn’t matter. She ignored the dark blotch on the sand as she continued to look for a way out.

There had to be a way to escape. She thought briefly of the winged fae. Could they save her? If she looked to the skies, might they fly in and grab her? She squinted into the bright sky overhead, hopes dashed before they even had a chance to take root. No, there were no shadows to offer them cover. This was the high-noon heat of a blistering summer day. There would be nothing to shelter them here.