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Chapter One

Raevina

Raevina raced down the cavernous hall, her black boots echoing off the stone walls where her people’s home had been carved inside the grand mountain ages ago. Her dark braids bounced with every stride, hitting the backs of her elbows, and the knives in her belt clinked with her quick pace, drawing the gazes of those she passed. She bared her teeth at them without slowing, and they quickly turned away.

Sweat rolled down her golden brown skin and Raevina flexed her shoulders in an attempt to work the morning’s training tension from her muscles.

Her attention returned to the elaborate halls and their magnificent carvings. Legends of their home’s creation were numerous. Some in Fiadh claimed shadow weavers were responsible for melting the stone smooth, while others said their ancestors had chiseled the massive dwelling by hand.

Then there were the fanatics. Those who swore the nations had once been united beneath a single monarch. A time before High Lords and Ladies existed. Those devoted to the ancient texts—a version of them anyway—sang lullabies to their children about the nations working alongside one another. They even told stories about how magic wasn’t separated back then as it was now.

She snorted. She’d believe the four countries could work together as soon as peace formed between humans and Fae.

Raevina glanced up, allowing herself a rare moment to appreciate the smooth stone and glittering jewels within the grand chamber. It reflected the dozens of braziers’ firelight like a black sheet of glass, and eight columns of solid stone as thick as Nàdiar’s redwoods rose toward the ceiling to hold it all in place.

The ceiling arched at the top and the doorways mimicked the architecture. Harsh and cold and empty, some called it, but to her and everyone else in Púróg it was a glistening gem city full of iridescent lights that promised stability and protection. Something they desperately needed with the dark creatures prowling the mountains of late.

She kept moving, trying not to think about her father’s negligence as her muscular legs carried her across the main hall. Whispered voices drifted up from the rows of tables crowded with both Fae and their slaves. Typical for the afternoon hour.

She wrinkled her nose when a human limped past and wondered how long it’d been since the creature had bathed. Or eaten. Its frail body was hunched from the weight it carried and the clothes hanging from its body were tattered and far too loose. She noted the bones jutting out from its shoulders and shook her head. She’d tried to mention lightening the humans’ load to her father once, but he’d threatened to label her a sympathizer.

Raevina clicked her tongue. She’d never sympathize with a human. They deserved their fate after what they’d done, but dead slaves couldn’t work and purchasing new ones was an unnecessary expense. It’d be far more efficient to care for them properly and extend their lives another decade than to keep replacing them.

Raevina turned her attention away from the slaves. Four exits led out of the grand room, at least on floor level, but only one led to her father. He wasn’t a male one kept waiting.

She followed the enclosed hall, the space built large enough that she could swing a sword without hindrance if need be, and turned right before pausing at the throne room.

A guard bowed before her and rushed inside to announce her arrival.

Raevina knew her father’s summons had something to do with the rumors floating around.

The Divine.

Those within Brónach and Móirín claimed to have found a female with the ability to heal. A magic only the queen of their continent was prophesied to possess.

Their queen.

Raevina couldn’t imagine the four countries uniting. Who did they have to fight except for themselves? The humans to the north posed no threat. The continent to the south had yet to be explored and it was believed no other land stretched around their world. None that could pose a threat anyway.

She sincerely doubted that.

Raevina had felt a calling once. A need to set sail and see what else might lie beyond the land they dwelt upon. But she’d been young and foolish then.

The guard hurried back. “He waits for you.”

Raevina brushed past him and heard another voice echoing from within.

“Lady Raevina, Your Grace.” The male bowed at the waist, his head low, and didn’t rise until she’d passed him.

Fire surrounded the inside of the throne room, warming the space enough that sweat was already beading on her brow. Intricately carved chests sat open on the tables, all full of glittering jewels. A show of power and a taunt for any who craved it.

She hated this room. Torches and braziers lined the walls and corners in unnecessary numbers. They made the shadows tug and pull in a menacing dance.

Her father sat in the large, stone chair carved from the rock itself at the back of the room, with more chests and jewels on either side of his throne. A glass of wine rested in one hand while a plate of food sat on the opposite arm of the chair.

Raevina knelt. She didn’t lift her eyes to look at his face but she knew that hideous crown still sat upon his head as it always did when he was in here. Five jagged spikes rose from the top of the wretched thing with large jewels inlaid between each. Other stones decorated the rest of it, all of them finely crafted and without flaws.

She swore she’d melt the blasted thing as soon as she took her place as High Lady.