Chapters (70)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Map
- Epigraph
- BEGINNINGS
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- PART II
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- TRICKSTER
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Also by Susan Dennard
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
“You would hurt a boy to get to me,” she said, voice surprisingly steady, as if she’d pulled on Vaness’s iron mask. “That is a new depth of craven, Yoris.”
The Master Huntsman gave a croaking laugh. “I would use anyone if they’re a traitor to the throne. Even you.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, gaze roving up and down Vivia. “Well, ‘traitor’ is the nicest word they’re calling you these days.”
Vivia smiled, a cold thing that did not bare teeth and did not reach her eyes. She had never liked the Nihar family’s Master Huntsman. He hated anyone who was not Nubrevnan, anyone who was not male. “Hoping to get that reward?” she asked. “I heard it was up to two thousand martens now, though I promise he’ll never pay.”
Another croaking laugh and Yoris limped her way. He’d always claimed his scars came from a fight with a sea fox, but Vivia had always found the idea laughable. People did not survive fights with sea foxes.
They also did not survive fights with her, and her magic itched to be set free. She ached to use the waves battering against the cliff, but with that knife against Cam’s throat—she couldn’t risk it.
“Rewards are trivial,” Yoris said once he’d stopped before her. “What I’m hoping for is to please my king. Now if you’d be so kind as to give me your hands.”
Vivia’s mouth twitched, but she obeyed. Not that the ropes Yoris bound around her wrists would stop her magic—which he seemed to realize, for once they were knotted with painful tightness, he said, “Now here’s how this will go, Princess. You are gonna walk in the middle of our line. Your boy here will be just behind, a knife at his back and crossbows aimed at both of you. If there’s any sign of trouble, we’ll drug you. I’ve got a nice sleeping dart ready. Do you understand?”
“You can try that.” Her eyes locked on his. “But I have a ship filled with a loyal crew and loyal witches. You won’t get far.”
“You mean had a ship.” Yoris winked. His scar gleamed. “They’ve been dealt with, just like we’re dealing with you, and no one will be coming to your aid.”
Vivia did not react. Somehow, though the water shouted at her to be used and though her stomach had fallen all the way to her toes, she let nothing reach her face. “Did you kill them?”
Yoris grinned. “Only the ones who wouldn’t bend. Now walk.” He pointed toward the forest with his three-fingered hand. “And remember that crossbow aimed at your head.”