Chapter One
Kallias
Darius is dead.
The ink was smeared in haste, bleeding into the torn parchment, proof that it was rolled before it dried. Blots of crimson dotted the weathered scrap.
Despair settled in my gut, heavy as stone. Whispers of defeat hummed through my ears, and I took a seat at the rocking table before I collapsed like a fool. The ship’s lilt offered no comfort as I stared at the words. Vain hope slithered through me—this had to be a nightmare.
“What does it say?” Nienna’s voice was hushed, her eyes ringed with shadows that mirrored my own. She placed a hand on my forearm as my gaze drifted to the map nailed into the table.
“Darius has fallen.” My words held steady, stripped of inflection. The general I entrusted with Radaan’s defense was gone. There was no softening that truth. I lost my friend. Countless Velli failed to kill the stubborn old man, yet Tallon? The bastard prince clawing for Radaan?
My palm dropped to the table, fingers splayed over my kingdom’s name. Tallon wasn’ttryinganymore. He succeeded. He was carving his way across Radaan, and all we possessed were frantic messages carried by doves.
And judging by the state of the parchment, this one might be the last.
I recognized the neat script. Clean lines. Precise runes. Each letter began with a sharp stroke before easing into the next.
Clay was risking everything for me.
“And his Threshers?” Nienna asked. Her soft voice carried the only sympathy appropriate for a public setting.
A king did not mourn the loss of his friends while his kingdom splintered.
But a man would.
“Without Darius, they would’ve returned to the temple of Nyryn,” I said. “Unless Tallon had a measure of sense. If he does, he bound them all upon Darius’ death.”
“They’re loyal to you?” The inquiry lingered heavier than she intended. It was the question on every man’s mind. Did I have allies waiting at home, or was I sailing toward my own execution, destined to be slaughtered upon arrival?
“The Threshers serve Nyryn, God of Vengeance. The gods bless the mantle.” I glanced at her then. Lanternlight swayed across the golden scales draped over her shoulders. “Tallon may sit the throne, but he lacks the yoke. I can’t be certain, but I expect the Threshers to answer my call.”
Which opened an entirely different wound.
We knew nothing of Radaan’s condition. Civil war? Quiet submission? Blood in the streets? When we landed, would blades greet me, or banners? Would I be dragged in chains, or escorted through Reem’s gates?
Tallon was clever. Radaan hadn’t fallen by chance. He planned this. Took his time. Every move deliberate. Part of me wonderedif he had an advisor whispering in his ear. Deceit came easily to him, but youth dulled his patience. I wouldn’t depend on that flaw.
Still, I stored it away—let it linger in the back of my mind. A blade kept sheathed, waiting for the right moment to press my advantage of age and hard-earned wisdom.
Heavy footfalls echoed through the hold, underscored by the wet slosh of water, and we both turned toward the dark stairwell leading above deck.
“The storm is getting worse. No flying today.” Ronan’s voice carried its own fatigue, and the gray bruising beneath his eyes reminded me I wasn’t the only one enduring this journey.
“It has to break eventually.” Nienna sighed. Both hands came up, palms bracketing her face as she stared down at the map.
The evening we set sail for Radaan, the first drops fell. By nightfall, waves rose in anger, battering the Dragon Ship built for speed. Days slipped by, the storm growing in intensity. Without Gyrak pulling us through the sky, the crossing would stretch into weeks.
“Gyrak would fly if not for the lightning,” Ronan grumbled as he crossed the room and dropped into a chair, water streaming from his riding leathers. Every spare moment found him on deck with the ill-tempered beast.
Though, to be fair, three days soaked to the bone would sour anyone.
“Could your magic bend the winds or clear the clouds?” I asked, leaning back. The ship lurched hard to starboard, and I braced against the table.
Ronan blinked, his lip curling in open disgust.
My gaze shifted to Nienna. She would offer an explanation instead of treating me like an ignorant child.
