Page 1

PROLOGUE

The illusion of freedom is a trap I was once told.

It’s like trying to catch the wind.

Or taste the sun.

An impossible feat.

The elves thought they could cage me.

To use me for their own evils.

But I am the wind.

My kiss holds the warmth of the sun.

The legend was born with me.

Their greed ends with me.

1

WREN

Wren ran a hand over her face. “That’s the fourth “wanted” poster I’ve seen so far.” Her husband was relentless. Soon she’d not be able to travel without being recognized.

Leif flicked a glance her way. “There’s been seven, actually.”

“Where?” Bram muttered, his dark brown eyebrows slashed together. “Down by the harbor, the two taverns, the brothel…?”

“And outside the duke’s residence, the orphanage, and the fish market,” Leif said, pleased with himself. Bram looked like he wanted to curse at Leif for noticing something he hadn’t.

Bram’s scowl deepened. “We haven’t been anywhere near the duke’s residence, or the orphanage, or the fish market.”

“Ah, I may have scouted them privately in the early hours of the morning.”

Wren sighed as Bram’s face turned bright red. Leif knew just what to say to needle the man.

“You know you’re not supposed to go out alone right now!” Bram bit out through clenched teeth. The fact they were trying to stay unnoticed was the only thing preventing him from losing his temper entirely. “If you’re caught—”

“But I wasn’t. I know better than to get caught. Don’t I, Wren?” Leif grinned at her. She had watched their entire exchange with a now-familiar feeling of resignation. Over the last two months she’d gotten to know the rebellion as best she could, particularly her watery dungeon companion and her aunt’s point man for operations, Bram.

It was clear from day one that Bram did not like Wren at all.

Perhaps “trust” is more accurate than “dislike.” He doesn’t trust you.

Ever since Wren and Leif broke free from the Verlanti palace with the help of the miraculous blue dragon, she’d hardly had a single moment to herself. Her aunt, Vienne—the leader of the rebellion—had set Bram and Leif to be her constant companions. Leif she did not mind; she had grown to like and trust the boy. But Bram...?

If he had his way, Wren would have spent the last two months locked in a cell, away from trouble and any risk that she might contact her husband.

Her stomach twisted sickeningly, as it always did when she remembered the look on Arrik’s face when he realized she was fleeing.

Don’t think about Arrik.

“Perhaps you should listen to Bram,” Wren said, deciding it was wise to side with the seasoned spy over his younger companion. “All it takes is one mistake and that’s it, you’re done for.”

Leif stuck out his tongue. “As if I’d ever make a mistake.”