Chapter One

SACRED ARBOR REALM

RUNA

“They’re gaining on us. On foot! Can’t that infernal beast go any faster?” I shouted at Kronk, the muscle of our trio of bandits, as we raced along a narrow cliffside.

Shadows shrouded the winding trail. The only light was the glow radiating off a molten river that waited for one of us to make a single misstep. Heat seared my cheek, and the horse beneath me shied away from the threat. A quick glance at the chasm below had my heart quaking in my chest.

The Blood River Bandits had been in some pretty tight spots over the years. As bad as our situation was, this was nowhere close to the worst.

And I would keep telling myself that.

Seated on the bench of a bucking wagon, Kronk snapped the reins against the back of the straining bula . “Yah! Move your stubborn ass, you horned bastard, or I’ll carve you into steaks and have you for dinner.”

The massive bovine responded with a defiant murrr.

Given Kronk’s considerable weight when he was in his athos form, I couldn’t fault the bula’s insolence.

Athos were naturally bulky and muscular, even more so when they shifted, lending Kronk the strength of twenty men.

His gritty flesh turned to stone, covering his heavily muscled frame.

Kronk, unlike me, was also impervious to harm from weapons and fire.

Lucky bastard.

Guiding his trotting horse beside mine, Drazen, the third member of our macabre trio, cut me a critical glare I was all too familiar with.

Fiery light from the lava pit gleamed off the onyx horns that curled over his skull, making the infernus appear especially demonic.

Like Kronk, he too was impervious to the flames that spiraled across the pool.

Infernus were born in fire. Lived it. Breathed it.

Worshipped it. Did untold things with it in their bunks at night that I didn’t care to analyze.

“I thought you said they would all be in the temple,” Drazen barked, accusation in his tone.

The angry mob of Dark Cultists who chased us—with pitchforks, no less—was not my fault.

How dare he criticize my plan? These mutton heads would be lost without my leadership.

Anger swarmed like a nest of widow wasps inside my ribs, or perhaps it was the heat from the flarking lava, melting me from the inside.

Either way, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with my brother’s crap.

“It’s not as if I can predict when a monk will take a piss,” I snapped.

The intel I’d stolen directly from the head priest’s mind was spot-on.

With my goddess-given abilities, I’d uncovered the cultists’ schedules, blind spots, and weaknesses along with the location of the temple vault.

As a sorceress, what I couldn’t do was to predict how this simple plan would go to hell.

Though it didn’t come as a surprise. I worked with idiots, after all .

I dragged a sweaty strand of lavender-tipped hair out of my eyes. “At least I’m not the dunderhead who blew our cover.”

Kronk’s massive shoulders hitched at the reminder. “It isn’t my fault that my dress was too short.”

Behind the sheen of sweat slicking my forehead, my pulse pounded. “I stole those robes to help us blend in. Why didn’t you wear the pants?”

“One does not wear pants under a dress,” Kronk answered with an imperious scoff.

I gripped my reins, itching to wrap my hands around his thick neck. Not that I had any chance of spanning its rocky girth. “For the last time, it isn’t a dress,” I grated. “And since when are you an expert in fashion?”

When Kronk had hiked his leg to climb into the cart, everyone, and I mean everyone , saw far too much of the athos.

I felt sorry for the females of his race.

Although other athos considered Kronk a runt, what hung between his legs was truly terrifying and also out of place among the Dark Cultists.

Apparently, the monks were all eunuchs. Who knew?

Before Kronk could reply, the cart’s wheel smacked a rock, nearly tossing him out of his seat. Our stolen bounty bucked against the wooden bed, and the lid of the stone sarcophagus popped free of its base.

“Careful, you buffoon,” Drazen shouted. “Damage the payload and we’re screwed.”

Kronk snarled back, the too-short hem of his robe flapping in the breeze, baring parts of my brother that couldn’t be unseen. “I cannot damage something long dead. What does Vex want with a pile of dusty bones, anyway?”

“Why does Vex want anything?” I screeched. My panic-driven voice annoying, even to my own ears. “The bastard’s a sicko.”

Vex, leader of a local gang of cutthroats, was a known collector of oddities. He was also someone you didn’t want to anger. If we didn’t need this payoff so badly, we never would have taken the job. Too many thieves had cut deals with Vex only to go missing.

Drazen glanced back at the bellowing mob, their roars intensifying as they drew closer. “Can’t that slovenly beast of yours move any faster?”

“Bula are not built for speed, but for strength,” Kronk defended.

“Kind of like you,” I scoffed, smirking when he shot me a granite glare.

Mature sorceress I was, I stuck out my tongue in retaliation.

Beside us, a pitchfork whizzed through the air, glancing off Drazen’s stubborn head.

Flark ! Not the horns.

All infernus were overly proud of their ebony protrusions. Polishing them every night. Flaunting them for the ladies. Gag . Frankly, I didn’t see the appeal.

“Now they’ve done it,” Drazen snarled, looking very much like the crazed devil that his species resembled.

Embers puffed from Drazen’s nostrils, his eyes glowing red with fury. Ever the impulsive one in our trio, he urged his horse faster. Drawing alongside the wide-eyed bula, he held up his blazing hand. Flames flickered from his fingers.

“Drazen, no!” I barked.

Too late.

His heated palm slapped the bula’s hindquarters with a resounding crack, branding the animal’s beefy ass.

The lumbering bula reared up like a mighty stallion. Its massive hooves exploded against the road, and it bolted. At the sudden strain, the harness around its shoulders snapped. Leather straps tangled with the creature’s thick legs, Kronk’s control over the beast nonexistent .

“Drazen, you boar-faced shit monger,” Kronk bellowed, hauling back on the reins with zero success.

I needed to come up with a new plan. Now! “We need to get in front of him,” I yelled at Drazen.

“Can’t. Road’s too narrow.”

“Then throw a fireball into its path.”

“The beast is already spooked. You want to give it a heart attack?”

“If that’s what it takes!”

Before I could bark another order, both animal and cart careened around the next turn in the road. With Kronk clinging to the seat. Too fast! They’d never make it.

The wagon lurched up on its side, balancing on two wheels, tilting toward the fiery pit below. Icy terror flooded my veins. Kronk was fireproof. Not lava proof.

“Kronk,” I screamed, pulse pumping, certain I was about to see my adopted brother plunge to his death.

As the cart tipped, he dove over the opposite side.

In a shockingly agile move, he hit the ground and spun, catching the wheel.

Muscles strained along his thick forearms, his shoulders expanding with the effort.

With his boots sliding against the rock, he heaved, dragging the wagon into the center of the road and setting it upright.

Thank Hathor. Kronk was safe.

With Drazen beside me, I hauled back on my reins, both of us leaping from our horses to check the bed of the cart.

Empty.

No!

I raced to the edge of the trail, peering into the fiery ravine just as a splash rang out. My heart took a similar plunge.

Below, the head of the sarcophagus bobbed in an ocean of molten rock before disappearing beneath its surface with a squelching burp .

“It’s gone,” I gasped, watching as all three of our deaths flashed in my mind.

“Vex is going to kill us,” Drazen groaned, scraping a hand over his ruddy face.

“Slowly. Painfully.” I could see it now. Our executions would surely be public since Vex loved to have witnesses to his brutality. We’d be used to set an example. I’d watched once while he’d forced one of his captives to eat his own entrails. Bile painted my tongue at the memory.

“Not if the Dark Cultists kill us first,” Kronk stated in a cheerful tone, like this was good news.

“Not helpful,” I snapped at King Oblivious.

Shouts of outrage exploded from the raging mob. The devoted monks were furious to see the remains of their deity destroyed.

Goddess, save us from the righteous. Instead of aiding those in need, they demanded their followers spend coins they didn’t have on building temples while devoting themselves to a bunch of bones.

I’d little use for leaders who turned a blind eye to the needs of the people.

In fact, I had little use for leaders. Period. Especially kings.

I spun to face the raging mob. As usual, it was up to me to clean up my brothers’ mess. “I’ve got this.”

Drazen grasped my shoulder. “You sure? Your fingertips are already blackened. You used too much power dealing with the guards earlier.” The price for stealing images at a distance was steep. Physical contact was a lot easier.

“I said, I’ve got this.” I shrugged free of his heated grip, raising my glowing hands.

With my reserves near empty, I called on the power at my center, channeling down into the earth, drawing upon Carcerem’s well of energy.

Obsidian . It was the mystical force that supported all life in our kingdom.

People, plants, animals, insects, all benefited from this gift granted to us by the goddess Hathor from the sacred arbors she created. In the end, all returned to the well.

Magic sparked along my nerve endings, swelling up from deep inside.

The feeling was indescribable. Pleasure thrummed in my veins, and I swallowed a moan.

The temptation to take more, to sink my mystical claws in and never let go, was almost irresistible.

I’d fought this battle more times than I could count.

Remember Yaga’s teachings .

The reminder grounded me.

This power was mine to command, not the other way around. Tendrils of purple magic surrounded me in a mystical breeze. My stolen hood blew back off my head, strands of ebony hair tipped with violet floated above my shoulders.

I gave life to my illusion, projecting my glorious creation.

Before the monks’ eyes, their lost deity rose from the lava in a burst of whirling flames and flashing embers.

Golden fabric swathed her glowing body, a glittering crown resting on her head.

Her gorgeous features were ethereal. Her demeanor, regal.

Not too shabby, if I did say so myself. All sorceresses had a specialty. No two had the same combination of skills, though there was some overlap along bloodlines, as there was with portal magic in my family.

This was mine. Not only did I have the ability to pull images from someone’s head, but I could also create them as well.

I considered my gift of illusion more of an art form than some blunt tool to be bandied about.

While my creations lacked substance, no one could tell the images they perceived were false until they touched one. Because I was that good.

The enchanting goddess reached out to her awe-struck followers.

“ At last. I am free of my mortal bonds. Thanks to these fine people. Return to the temple and pay me homage.” When the stunned monks didn’t immediately obey, flames shot out of the glowing goddess’s eyes, her command rumbling through the earth. “ Return, I say ! ”

In a flurry of robes and discarded garden tools, the monks scrambled, bowing and muttering prayers as they backed away.

Once it was safe, I released my grip on the illusion, and my beautiful creation dissolved in a wave of sparks.

Something similar happened within me as I withdrew from the well.

Weakness washed through my body, my legs collapsing.

Kronk scooped me up, and Drazen rushed over, grabbing my wrist. Blackened flesh encompassed my hands.

At the sight of the damage I’d done, Drazen hissed in annoyance. “I warned you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I mumbled, my words slurring. “The shadows will recede once I’ve rested.” It was important for all sorceresses to balance the ebb and flow of obsidian. Take too much too fast, and there were consequences.

“We should find a place to regroup,” Kronk’s deep voice rumbled against my cheek. His stone-like arms were solid beneath me.

“More like hide and kiss our asses goodbye,” Drazen sneered. “When we don’t show with the goods, it won’t take long for Vex to place a bounty on our heads.”

“Let us go to Yaga. She can make Runa her special tea,” Kronk suggested.

We hadn’t visited the hag who’d raised us for several spans. In some cultures, people considered the word an insult, but not in ours. Hags were among the wisest and most respected of creatures. Like others of her kind, Yaga was a wiz with potions.

I snorted. “You’re not fooling me. It’s Yaga’s mead you’re after.” Though the idea of returning to our childhood home for a break did sound nice.

“Fine, then. Yaga’s it is.” Drazen stalked over to my horse, collecting its reins. “As long as I’m not the one who has to tell her we lost the payload.”

It wasn’t Yaga we needed to worry about disappointing.

Profits from this heist would have meant the difference between life and death for the villagers.

This loss would set us back even further.

We’d need a plan and quick. Before the false king sent his soldiers to collect payment for the quarterly taxes we didn’t have.

“Can you ride?” Drazen asked.

“Tie me into my saddle, and I’ll do the rest.”