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This book had two amazing teams of people behind it who made this dream come true. Thank you, Hannah VanVels, for your edits and feedback. These characters were carved out, in part, by your watchful eyes. Thank you, Colleen Sheehan, for turning my manuscript into the first book I ever published. Karin Wittig, thank you for drawing Elverath so readers could follow along. And thank you, Kim Dingwall, for your incredible cover design. You brought Keera to life in a way I never thought possible.
This version ofA Broken Bladewouldn’t exist without the team at Union Square & Co. I would like to thank my editor, Laura Schreiber, for believing in this book and helping it shine even brighter. Thank you Stefanie Chin for catching plot holes I would have never noticed. And thank you Hayley Jozwiak for perfecting this story and navigating my questionable comma use. I am so excited that Keera’s story made its way to all of you.
My last thank-you is to the BookTok community. I wrote this book midway through 2021 after seeing videos on book series I’d never heard of and the insightful discourse that pulled me in. I wrote this book for you, combining all the things BookTok loves, with all the missing parts I craved. This community has been so lovely to be a part of, to learn from and explore, to escape into again and again. I hope you found some escape between these pages too.
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CHAPTER FROMRIVEN’S PERSPECTIVE . . .
ILED NIKOLAI THROUGHthe sandstone buildings of Cereliath. We passed the port where the city canal system merged into a small bay, and where we had found the boat left in plain sight. The shipment of goods Curringham’s assistant was meant to get out of the city. Rylan had flashed the lord’s seal dozens of times, steering stolen food down the tiny man-made waterway toward Silstra. He had never had a problem.
Untilher.
We arrived at the outskirts of Cereliath, our hoods drawn so no one could see our faces. Nikolai stepped through the ruined temple, his boot shifting on shards of broken glass that were once a window. His gaze scanned along the beams shrinking with rot and the damaged pews time had left behind. Nikolai’s tongue prodded the inside of his cheek as he took another step inside, then lowered his hood.
“You want me to lure herhere?” Nikolai’s finger swiped along the pulpit. He flitted the thick layer of dust onto the floor. “Of all the places you could pick to die Riv . . . is this truly the last room you want to see?” He raised a brow at a patch of mold on the wall.
I ground my teeth. “I won’t die,” I repeated for the seventh time that day. “And if I do, you know what must be done.”
We didn’t have time to argue. Nikolai needed to leave before the suns finished setting.
Any remaining humor hardened in Nikolai’s eyes as he turned to face me. “I know I made a vow to you Riven, but I did not think I was agreeing to follow youandyour stupidity.”
“It’s not stu—”
“It is absolutely ludicrous, and you know it.” Nikolai took out a piece of linen from his breast pocket and rubbed the dust off a pew. He sat down slowly, wincing as he did so. “Playing into the Blade’s game. Accepting her invitation to kill you . . . ridiculous,” he mumbled to himself.
I cleared my throat and he stopped grumbling. “I wish Syrra was here.” He sighed, looking up at the bend in the ceiling. “You wouldn’t daresuggestthis to her, let alone go through with it.”
I held back my smile. “Why do you think I sent her to Myrelinth?”
Nikolai’s head snapped back to me. His eyes narrowed, but then softened as he rubbed his brow. “Rylan is dead, Riven,” he said gently. “There is nothing that we can do to change that. Sacrificing yourself to avenge his death will not bring him peace. Accomplishing what we promised him, what we’ve promised the Halflings—that needs to be your focus.”
I leaned against one of the pillars. The plaster that had once decorated the beam was beginning to crack. “It is my focus.”
Nikolai’s lips transformed into a stern line across his face.
“Am I just supposed to forget that a young man is dead?” I spat. “A man who helped us for months? Who helped feed hundreds?”
“Riven, we’re at war—”
“I will not use those who follow me as pawns in a game,” I yelled. Heat flooded my body. A brutal mix of rage and fear that stirred my magic. “Their lives have meaning. I won’t forget that. Ican’tforget that . . . I thought you of all people would understand.” The power ripped against my skin, like daggers poking through flesh. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. My magic had been harder to control since we reached Cereliath. Now it spiraled through me with enough force that my vision blurred from the pain. I hadn’t felt this unsteady in years. Not since Syrra and Feron had started training me.
Nikolai waited patiently for me to get the surge of emotion under control. I cleared my mind like Feron taught me—pushing my magic back into whatever depths existed inside of me. A moment passed. Then another. Finally, my breath settled. I gave a small nod to Nikolai, signaling to him to continue.
His eyes lingered on me before he resumed his argument. “Riven, if you die tonight, who will be there to protect the next Rylan from Aemon’s wrath?”
I folded my arms, still aware of my breathing. “Sheis not the king.”
Nikolai shook his head. “No, she is not. But even if you manage to kill her tonight, Aemon has a line of Halflings ready to take her place. You would never stop avenging Rylan—or the whichever innocent life Aemon sets his new Blade on.”
My anger flared again. Small shadows swirled against the sunlit wall, casting intricate patterns made of darkness onto the wood. I took another breath. “If I have to kill every member of the Arsenal—every Shade—then I will.”
Nikolai crossed his legs and opened his mouth to continue, but I cut him off.
“She’s the best of them. She would be replaced in title alone.” I took another breath. “She’s a monster, Nik. Aemon’s monster. When she dies tonight, it will be weeks before the Arsenal recovers. We can use that to further our cause. We can be better.Ican be better.” The last words caught in my throat as I thought of Rylan crying over his brother’s grave. I’d promised him I would change Elverath for the better. That he would see a world without hungry children. Halfling or Mortal.
But he was dead. And I, a liar.
