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Back Witchshadow Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Map
  5. Epigraph
  6. BEGINNINGS
  7. PART I
  8. ONE
  9. TWO
  10. THREE
  11. FOUR
  12. FIVE
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. EIGHT
  16. NINE
  17. TEN
  18. ELEVEN
  19. TWELVE
  20. THIRTEEN
  21. FOURTEEN
  22. FIFTEEN
  23. SIXTEEN
  24. SEVENTEEN
  25. EIGHTEEN
  26. NINETEEN
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. THIRTY
  38. THIRTY-ONE
  39. THIRTY-TWO
  40. THIRTY-THREE
  41. THIRTY-FOUR
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. PART II
  45. THIRTY-SEVEN
  46. THIRTY-EIGHT
  47. THIRTY-NINE
  48. FORTY
  49. FORTY-ONE
  50. FORTY-TWO
  51. FORTY-THREE
  52. FORTY-FOUR
  53. FORTY-FIVE
  54. FORTY-SIX
  55. FORTY-SEVEN
  56. FORTY-EIGHT
  57. FORTY-NINE
  58. FIFTY
  59. FIFTY-ONE
  60. FIFTY-TWO
  61. FIFTY-THREE
  62. FIFTY-FOUR
  63. FIFTY-FIVE
  64. FIFTY-SIX
  65. FIFTY-SEVEN
  66. TRICKSTER
  67. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  68. Also by Susan Dennard
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  70. Newsletter Sign-up

Vivia pushed to her knees, then sank to her haunches. There was no one on the ocean. No one to see her or Cam. It should have been a relief, but instead, Vivia’s nerves twanged higher by the breath. Why hunt her ship across a sea only to abandon chase once the Iris vanished? And why hunt her at all? No Voicewitch messages had come in. No threats or explanations.

Cam clanked shut his spyglass and shoved into his own seated position, cross-legged beside Vivia, hands over his knees. He had a floppiness to his movements that was both graceful and puppy like. “I found Merik near here, you know.”

Vivia stiffened.

“I tended him back to health in a hut nearby, then we went to the capital. He hated you.”

“Ah,” she breathed, and for some reason, her stomach hollowed out. She wished Cam hadn’t said that. She wished she hadn’t heard the words so directly: He hated you. It didn’t matter that she had always hated him right back, and it didn’t matter that the last time she’d seen Merik they had parted on solid terms. Not loving, not even good, but solid.

What mattered was that he had hated her, and she’d deserved it.

She picked up a rock, palm-size and dry as sun-bleached bone. It was rough against her fingertips. “Why are you telling me this, Cam?”

“Because he was wrong.”

Vivia dug her thumb into the rock. A corner crumbled.

“Merik wanted to lead Nubrevna, and I think he will make a good king. One day. But you make a good queen now, and wherever you lead us, I’ll stand beside you.”

Vivia crushed the rock in her hand. It fractured to sand and she watched it fall from her palm. A moonlit trickle of earth that had once held life.

After several moments with only wind and sea to fill the silence, Cam clambered to his feet and offered Vivia a hand.

She didn’t take it. “Head back to the Iris,” she told him. “I’ll join you there soon.”

His hand dropped. He bowed. “Hye, Majesty.” And soon, his footsteps sifted into the night. He returned shortly, though, a soft crunch upon the earth. Vivia assumed he’d lost his bearings. And after rising and dusting off her breeches, she turned to face the boy.

But it was not Cam who came prowling out of the white trees before her. It was a lean man with a scar across his face and skin weathered to dark, seamed brown. “Hello, Princess.” Master Huntsman Yoris waved, revealing only three fingers upon his left hand. “It has been a long time.”

Four more people emerged from the ghost forest: two women and two men, each dressed in the same yellowish-white shade as the land. And each with a crossbow aimed at Vivia’s head.

EIGHTEEN