Chapters (63)
- Dedication
- Map
- A Note to the Reader
- PART ONE
- The Keeper
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- PART TWO
- The Keeper
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- PART THREE
- The Keeper
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- PART FOUR
- The Keeper
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
- Chapter Thirty-four
- Chapter Thirty-five
- Chapter Thirty-six
- Chapter Thirty-seven
- Chapter Thirty-eight
- Chapter Thirty-nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-one
- PART FIVE
- The Keeper
- Chapter Forty-two
- Chapter Forty-three
- Chapter Forty-four
- Chapter Forty-five
- Cast of Characters
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Don’t miss any of THE GRACELING REALM novels
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As Lovisa led the queen to the easy rocks at the back of the property, she could hardly believe she was leaving her own mother like that, crumpled on the ground. At the wall, she showed the queen where to put her hands and feet. The queen took forever to climb. Finally, Lovisa started up behind her, then froze in alarm as that guard, the sister of the one she’d hurt, came running around the corner of the house. The guard stopped. Gaped at Lovisa, gaped at the queen. The guard saw Ferla lying on the ground.
Then the guard looked over her shoulder, turned back, and made a sweeping motion with her hands that conveyed a clear message. Go, she was saying. Run.
With one last, heartbroken thought for her brothers, Lovisa scrambled over the wall behind the queen, jumped, and ran.
PART FOUR
The Keeper
When the four silbercows explained to the creature what they wanted her to do, she was not impressed.
Why would I do that? she said. How could I do that? It would draw the attention of everyone in the ocean, just when all the other silbercows are finally starting to forget about me.
The silbercows told her that no one in the ocean was forgetting about her. All the silbercows talked about her, all the time. The only reason she didn’t see them was that they were careful not to get too close to her singing range.
Good, said the creature, who actually found this to be terrible news. She started singing, putting all her refusal into it. It made her feel so brave. Once, long ago, she’d been happy. She’d had treasures and no one had come near them. She’d hid, and watched the water above, and loved her treasures. It had been all she’d wanted. Then one night, because of a terrible attack on the surface that hadn’t been her fault, her life had changed, and now she had silbercow friends she missed when they were gone, and her tentacle hurt, and they wanted her to do things she didn’t want to do.
When she finished her song, ruffled and triumphant, the silbercows sat silently, staring at her. She waited for them to agree amongst themselves that she was very different from the Keeper, therefore unsuited to heroics.
Instead, as they continued to stare at her, she began to notice the way their shoulders slumped and their whiskers drooped.
She felt her own body droop. What’s wrong? she said. Is it my singing?