Page 3 of Shardless (Tempris #1)

-An excerpt from Long May She Reign: The Rise and Fall of the Last Queen of Time

Once hailed as the greatest sovereign of the modern age, Queen Raine was a visionary and a philanthropist, a dedicated scholar. A remarkable woman whose final act nearly destroyed an empire.

No one can say why she chose to close the gates, but in the wake of the great disaster—the day many are now calling the Schism—the High Lord and Lady of Earth and Air consolidated their power under the name of the Dawn Court. They created the Sanctorum and declared war upon Queen Raine and her time mages, ushering in an era of fear and bloodshed that has never been rivaled.

With a sigh, Taly pushed open the door to the drafty little room she now called home. It wasn’t much—only a few flecks of paint still clung to the walls, the roof leaked, and stacks of old books she’d found around the gates took the place of furniture. Nevertheless, the rent was cheap, and the woman who managed the tavern downstairs generally did a pretty good job of keeping the riffraff away from the second-floor rooms.

Things could be worse. And certainly had been before she’d found someone willing to rent to a shardless.

Water dripped onto the scuffed wooden floor as Taly trudged across the tiny room, peeling off her wet clothes as she went. How she yearned for the days when she owned more than one set of clothing. When she had abruptly decided to leave the manor and her life as the Marquess’ adopted ward, she hadn’t thought to grab any extra clothes. That was a mistake in hindsight.

Straining her ears, she could already hear the telltale sounds of the tavern’s kitchens opening down below, the staff likely getting ready for the lunch rush. Her stomach gurgled at the thought of food. It had been almost a week since she’d had the luxury of a full belly.

Looking at the bed stuffed into the corner, Taly debated just going back to sleep, but her stomach grumbled again, more insistently this time.

Okay. Shower first. Then food.

Except… Taly pushed aside the sheet that had been hung across the doorless entry to her washroom and turned the nozzle on the shower. Nothing came out. With a growl, she banged against the wall, rattling the fire and water crystals that had been embedded into a rusty me tal panel on the side of the tub.

The stones flickered, the tap dripped, but then… nothing.

Stepping up onto the lip of the shower, she peered over a small ledge near the ceiling. Two small violet gemstones—shadow crystals—were ensconced behind a jumble of dusty wiring. Unlike other types of crystals, shadow crystals could be used to store raw aether and then wired to power an array of different contraptions, including plumbing. The light shining from within the two crystals responsible for powering her shower was almost nonexistent, meaning that the crystals hadn’t been able to collect enough aether from the tavern’s primary aether grid to even allow her a cold rinse. This was not an uncommon occurrence. She’d gone most of the winter without running water.

“Happy birthday to me,” she sang bitterly, wringing the water out of her clothes as best she could before dressing. At the very least, her unplanned dive into Lake Reginea had done a good job of washing away the dirt and grime.

Pulling on her soggy boots, she hesitated, studying the dark navy jacket she’d found at the Aion Gate several months ago. Although she considered herself lucky to have found a piece of clothing in such good condition, she didn’t know how much good it did her soaking wet. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a replacement. When she made her initial flight from the manor, she had been wearing a sturdy leather jacket inlaid with protective wards, but she had traded it at the Swap last month when the salvage had been especially lean.

With a half-hearted shrug, Taly pulled on the damp coat and quickly appraised herself in the small, square mirror hanging by the door. Running a hand through her shoulder-length tresses, she scowled at the figure that stared back at her. Tufts of straw-colored hair stuck out at odd angles in a halo around her face—the tragic result of her first and only attempt at cutting her own hair.

The hairstyle wasn’t pretty, but it was practical. Although she had loved her hair, after six months of trying to hold on, she had finally given up her long, gently curling waves. Vanity was a luxury she could no longer afford.

Grabbing her pack, knife, and pistol, Taly stepped out onto a small circular walkway that led around to the front of the two-story building. The sun was almost directly overhead now, and the sounds of the city filtered up from down below.

While Ryme was the second-largest township on the island, that really wasn’t saying much. Compared to the fey cities on the mainland, it was an unruly, chaotic mishmash of different styles and cultures situated at the northern end of Tempris. Being so close to the Aion Gate, they were always far more susceptible to adopting mortal styles and customs than the rest of the fey world, and as a result, wooden and brick hovels sat sandwiched between newer structures that had been modeled after a strange collection of mortal architectural styles. There were also, of course, more traditional fey homes—sturdy stone great houses that were all windows and arched eaves—but most of those were situated outside the city walls on their own little parcels of land.

Some of the locals were already filtering into the main room of the tavern. Stepping inside, Taly retreated to the far end of the bar top and hopped up on an empty stool. She held up two fingers to signal the man behind the counter.

At first, he pretended not to see her, but she knew it was just an act. With a tired sigh, she rested her chin on one hand, waiting patiently. Eventually, he ambled over and unceremoniously plopped down a bowl of something that may have been edible at one time in the distant past.

The very distant past.

A slimy sheen coated the surface of the porridge-like substance, and when she poked at the mush with her spoon, various chunks of unidentifiable vegetable matter floated to the top.

Taly leveled a glare at the man, who stood watching her expectantly. “What is this, Jay?”

“It’s leftovers,” the ruddy-faced man grunted. For as long as Taly had known him, the burly barkeeper had always made a point to maintain a neat, tidy appearance. This morning, however, food stains peppered the front of his white shirt, and she had seen him wipe his bulbous nose with the tail of his apron at least twice since she had walked in.

Taly grimaced. “Jay, you are many things, but you’re not a chef. Why does Laurel have you working the kitchens again? This is the fifth time this week.”

Jay’s scowl deepened, and he scratched the side of his head, moving aside the wispy strands of mousy brown hair to reveal the pointed tips of his ears. “She’s sick again. Pretty sure she gave that crud to me too this time.” Turning to the side, he began coughing into his sleeve. Even though he was only a few generations removed from his closest highborn relative, Jay was still considered a lowborn. In addition to breeding away most of the traditional highborn traits, like the bright eyes and arched brows, having mortal blood in his veins meant that he was more susceptible to human diseases.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Taly said, refusing to back down, “but I don’t want leftovers.” She pushed the bowl away from her. “Especially cold leftovers.”

“People who don’t pay get leftovers.” He picked up the bowl and held it in his hand, casting a simple warming spell before dropping it back down in front of her. A piece of something orange (a carrot maybe?) sloshed out of the bowl and onto the bar.

Great. Now it’s warm garbage.

“For the last time, Jay. I don’t have to pay. Meals are included in my rent. That was part of my agreement with Laurel.” Taly frowned, flicking the questionable piece of vegetable matter at the disgruntled cook. “And also, my water’s out again. Can I have the key to the shower down here?”

“No. People who don’t pay, don’t shower.” He didn’t wait for her reply as he trudged back through the open doorway that led to the kitchen.

Raising herself up slightly, Taly shouted at his retreating form, “It’s called rent, you jackass! I pay you rent!”

Jay waved his hand dismissively, all the while grumbling something about shardless that didn’t know their place.

Taly leaned back on the stool and studied the bowl in front of her. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon when she had gotten lucky with some basilisk meat at the Swap. Needless to say, she was starting to get a little hungry.

Maybe it tasted better than it looked? Crossing her arms and eyeing the bowl dubiously, she leaned forward and sniffed.

Nope. Rancid . It was like Jay was trying to give her food poisoning. Which, if she really thought about it, probably wasn’t too far off from the truth.

It was clear by now that she would probably have better luck foraging the woods outside of town for her breakfast than she would trying to convince the surly cook to give her something decent to eat. With a sigh, she left the untouched bowl where it was and exited the bar to continue on about her day.

Most people Taly passed in the street tried to pretend they didn’t see her, but every now and then, someone would smile in her direction—other shardless mostly, but some lowborn fey as well. Every time someone managed to catch her eye, she would give them a polite nod in reply.

To her right, a shop door abruptly closed. Then several more in quick succession. Conversations quieted, dropping to an uneasy hum.

Refusing to look behind her, Taly kept walking. There was only one thing that could inspire that much fear in people with nothing to hide. And as the street began to empty… she could hear it now. The faint clink of metal, drawing closer.

Ducking into a darkened alley, she pressed herself against the wall, willing her heart to settle as she watched the group of Sanctifiers pass by. Their shiny black chainmail glinted in the morning light, and each warrior had an enchanted ax strapped to his back. A retinue of Gate Watchers followed closely behind. Beneath the crimson cloaks draped across their shoulders, the unlucky few that had been assigned to babysit the group of mage hunters wore scaled leather armor. Each carried a rapier, the weapon that most shadow mages tended to favor.

A glimmer caught her eye in the alleyway behind her—a subtle twist in the way the morning light reflected off a stack of crates. That could only mean one thing.

Pulling her pistol, Taly pointed it at the ripple of water magic. “I won’t miss. So, I suggest you take that two-bit water glamour and go rob somebody else.”

A low snigger echoed down the alley as the thief continued to creep towards her.

Taly fired off a shot at where she assumed the pickpocket’s feet to be. The boy yelped loudly as he fell out of the unraveling water glamour, and a stack of nearby crates toppled over on top of him. Blood streaked the ground. She had grazed his ankle.

Taly’s eyes flicked to the street and back. If this had been a normal pistol with a normal firing mechanism based solely on fire crystals, the shot would’ve been loud enough to draw the attention of the people passing by. But this wasn’t a normal pistol. No—Skye had made her this pistol for her birthday last year, and that arrogant highborn had somehow figured out a way to incorporate an air crystal into the firing mechanism. The gun had almost zero kickback, and the sound barely carried over the sharp clang of metal against metal coming from the sparring ring just around the corner.

“That’ll be your only warning shot,” Taly said evenly. The boy’s eyes widened as she leveled the barrel of her pistol at his face. He looked too clean to be a common Swap rat. That meant he was probably just some local lowborn kid out trying to cause trouble. The wound on his ankle was already healing—not as fast a highborn fey could mend himself, and certainly not as fast as a shadow mage, but the skin had already managed to repair itself so that only a small red welt remained.

Taly cocked her pistol, readying her next shot.

But the boy was already scrambling backward, wrapping his magic around him as he tried to blend back into the shadows. While she couldn’t easily kill him, she could still make him hurt.

Taly smiled when she heard frantic footsteps careening down the alleyway in the opposite direction.

Re-holstering her pistol, she hid in the alley for a moment longer, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that the Sanctifiers were nowhere in sight. To her knowledge, there were no more time mages left in any of the worlds; they had disappeared along with their High Lady. But that didn’t stop the Sanctorum from finding suspects . Fortune-tellers whose predictions were just a little too accurate. The random lowborn that did just a little too well at a carnival shell game. The Sanctorum was always looking under rocks and listening for rumors, always guarding against the possibility that the long-dead scourge might somehow resurrect.

Taly often found herself wondering what would happen if they ever found an actual time mage, how much blood would be shed once those old fears were given new life.

Too many lives had already been sacrificed to that cause.

Counting to three, then checking to make sure that the street was still clear, Taly casually stepped out of the alley and continued on her way.

The Swap was just ahead now. The old great house that quartered the bustling marketplace had started out its life as a minor baron’s mansion sometime before the Schism. In the aftermath of the great disaster, it had been used as a hospital and then as a halfway house before it was finally condemned almost a century later. Any hint of luxury or extravagance had already been stripped away and sold well before Sarina decided to refurbish the structure and turn it into a market. The roof still had a few gaping holes and children still dared each other to venture into sections of the upper floors that were “haunted,” but somehow this decrepit monument had become the center of trade for their little community.

As she approached, a cacophony of voices echoed from beyond the gaping, door-less entry. Shardless, lowborn fey, and even a few highborn nobles all swarmed into the front hall of the crumbling estate.

Weaving in and out of the sea of bodies, Taly pushed her way to the back of the building. To her right, she could see that Yoru’s new assistant had received a fresh batch of wands. Beneath the wooden exterior, each wand was inlaid with crystal circuitry and programmed to execute a simple enchantment. When the young shadow mage flicked a small switch located at the base of the handle, a gale of fire shot out of the tip of the poplar wand in his hand, singeing a few innocent passers-by and earning him some angry shouts.

Then to her left, an air mage had set up shop. The woman looked young, but most fey looked young regardless of their age. Highborn, Taly thought. If the arched brows and sharp cheekbones didn’t give that away, the amount of magic she was throwing around certainly did. The mage levitated a few feet off the ground, and a group of people had gathered around her, applauding as she lifted several small children into the air.

Finally arriving at the back of the main room, Taly turned and made her way down a side hallway. It was still early in the day for most backroom vendors, but she knew Josiah had most likely set up shop hours ago. While he might not have been the most above-board contact, the old trader had a knack for finding things. Like shadow mages that adhered to more flexible crafting policies.

She found Josiah sitting alone in the back corner of the deserted hall, his small booth almost devoid of any mentionable wares. Random pieces of obscure mortal tech hung here and there, but, overall, the scattered array of worthless junk made the little booth easy to ignore. At least for those that didn’t know to look closer. No, Josiah’s choice stock was only available to those that knew to ask.

Sunken eyes peered out from a haggard, wrinkled face, and Josiah scowled when he saw Taly approach. Though he was technically fey, Josiah, like Taly, was shardless. He still had the characteristic pointed ears of the fey, but his body couldn’t absorb enough aether to cast even the most basic of spells. Too many generations of breeding with humans had stripped away the two things the fey valued most—magic and immortality.

“Hey Josie,” Taly said, sidling up to the trader.

Josiah’s voice, graveled with age, carried a note of annoyance. “Taly. What do you want?”

“Good morning to you too,” Taly remarked, unfazed by his surly attitude.

“Don’t give me any of your lip, Caro,” Josiah growled. Lifting a splotched and wrinkled hand, he scratched at what was left of his hair. “Not after what I did for you.”

Taly scoffed, burying her hands in her pockets as she leaned forward. “Don’t act like you did me any favors, old man. I’m paying you far more than I need to.”

“You’re paying me because I’m discreet.” The trader reached behind him and pulled out a small, nondescript parcel wrapped in brown paper. “What do you think the Marquess would say if he found out his precious little girl was messing around with hyaline?”

“He’d probably send me to my room,” Taly replied with a confident smirk. While hyaline, or dead crystal as it was more commonly called, was highly regulated by an almost absurdly extensive set of laws, she hadn’t technically broken any of them. “After all, there’s nothing that says I can’t take a bunch of crystals that are just lying on the ground. How was I even supposed to know what they were? Without the proper tools, hyaline is almost indistinguishable from quartz. If questioned, I could easily argue that I’m innocent—a victim of my own ignorance.”

Taly batted her eyelashes, all sweetness and light. “I can’t say the same for you, however. I mean, you did test the crystals for purity before you agreed to smuggle them to Ebondrift. And you’re also the one that paid the crafters, both for their services and their silence. Face it, Josie. You’re as culpable in this little joint venture as I am at this point. Maybe more so. Your threats are empty.”

Josiah’s low chuckle sounded like sandpaper scraping against stone. “You’ve got teeth, kid.” He handed her the parcel. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Taly took the package and quickly stuffed it into her pack. “By the way,” she whispered, eyeing the door to the main room nervously, “I heard a rumor someone was trying to get rid of some time crystals.”

Josiah’s eyes widened in surprise. “And now you’ve gone and lost it… I didn’t take you for stupid.”

Taly shrugged. “Last I heard, the Genesis Lords in the mortal realm were trying to gather up the remaining time crystals. If there were someone with a stash, they’d stand to make some good coin when the Aion Gate opens.”

“If they managed to survive that long. Especially with the Sanctorum in town. Those butchers are edgy—you can tell just by lookin’ at ‘em. I swear to the Shards, if they break the treaty and try to hunt in the mortal realm, we’ll find ourselves in a full-scale war. The High Lord of Water is just lookin’ for a reason to break ties with the Dawn Court.”

“True,” Taly conceded. The Genesis Lords in the mortal realm had taken a hardline stance against the Sanctorum’s fearmongering. “But c’mon Josie, coin is coin.” And information was information, regardless of what she decided to do with it.

“Even so, I draw the line at peddling time crystals,” Josiah grunted. And with that, the surly trader turned back to his wares.

Taking that as her signal to leave, Taly started to walk away, back towards the crowd in the main room. “Hey Taly,” Josiah called, just loud enough for her to hear above the noise trickling in from the doorway .

Taly turned back to the old trader, noting the unusual expression on his face. He almost looked… concerned? She didn’t know the old man was capable of something so sentimental.

“Don’t go gettin’ mixed up in that time crystal shit. Hyaline is one thing, but time crystals? You ask the wrong person the wrong question… that’s how people disappear.”

Taly nodded in reply, pulling her hood up to hide her hair and face as she re-entered the main room. She didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention with such precious cargo on her person.

As she headed back towards the light flooding in from the entrance, she gingerly fingered the brown package. A slow smile curled her lips, revealing the dimples in her cheeks.

“Happy birthday to me...” she sang, almost feeling optimistic.

Taly was halfway to the city gates, wondering if the two coppers she’d found on the street outside the Swap might be enough for a day-old loaf of bread, when an unexpected hand clamped down on her shoulder. She barely had time to cry out before she found herself pulled into a familiar embrace.

“Talya Caro, as I live and breathe. It’s been almost a month. I was starting to worry about you.”

Smiling softly, Taly wrapped her arms around the woman and returned her embrace. Sarina Castaro was not put off easily, and truthfully, Taly was surprised she had managed to elude the persistent noblewoman for as long as she had.

“That’s not my fault,” Taly mumbled into the freshly laundered shoulder of her old governess’ shirt. She smelled like soap and perfume, things that still made her think of bedtime stories and goodnight kisses. To Taly, Sarina would always smell like home. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply before responding. “I’ve been where I’ve always been.”

Sarina pulled back and studied the younger woman, her bright blue eyes shaded by a wide, floppy-brimmed hat. Highborn eyes could be disconcerting to those who weren’t used to seeing the vivid, almost dreamlike colors. Their irises were surreal, like pure unadulterated pigment against a stark white canvas. Any hues that may have overlapped with mortals were so much more intense that it made human eyes look like mud in comparison.

Leaning down so she could look Taly in the eye, Sarina asked, “And where is that? Getting into trouble?”

Taly just shrugged, fiddling with the twine on the concealed package. She couldn’t really deny it.

“Or perhaps” —the edges of Sarina’s mouth lifted— “you’ve just been hiding in the back of Synna’s cart this past month. Skye says he scented you out on the road today.”

Taly blushed but kept her mouth shut. Sarina had no proof other than Skye’s stupid shadow senses.

The fey noblewoman shook her head disapprovingly, her copper curls bouncing around her. Then with a weary sigh, she gestured for them to continue down the street. “You are going to age me before my time, Miss Caro.”

“Just doing my job,” Taly said with a smile. “Besides, you’re fey. I’ll be old and gray long before you get your first wrinkle. If you get your first wrinkle. I have to level the playing field somehow.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Sarina replied, chuckling and throwing a familiar arm around Taly’s shoulders as they walked side-by-side. “How is Jay treating you? Any better?”

Taly couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her lips. “He needs to reconsider his definition of the words ‘leftovers’ and ‘meals included with rent.’ ”

She felt Sarina tense beside her as the woman gave her shoulder a curious squeeze, feeling for her slight frame beneath the oversized coat. In a disapproving tone, she said, “I thought you looked thinner. I’ll have to have a word with him.”

“Please don’t,” Taly said, pushing back her hood. She felt safe enough now that Sarina was here. “I’ve already told you—this is my problem. I’ll handle it on my own.”

Sarina eyed her skeptically. “How many meals has that man given you in the past week? Including the rotten ones?”

Taly looked away, fidgeting with a lock of hair that had fallen across her eyes. “Laurel’s been sick,” she hedged, wincing when her stomach decided to protest, quite loudly, at that very moment. “Once she’s back on her feet, Jay will go back behind the bar where he belongs, and the issue should resolve itself.”

Sarina sighed, and the hand at Taly’s shoulder gave another squeeze. “While I understand your need for independence, little one, this is a matter of public health. I’ve told Jay before, saving coin here and there is all well and good, but he’s going to make someone sick with his ‘leftovers.’ If not you, then somebody else, and that simply won’t do. So, until I can have another chat with him, why don’t we try to get some meat back on those bones?”

Taly suddenly found herself steered off the dirt path towards a tiny food stand. This place was familiar. She’d visited it countless times as a child, and the owner, a kindly lowborn, always used to give her an extra dollop of frosting on her sweet rolls. Now, however, she avoided coming anywhere near the booth. The owner’s son had taken over two months ago, and the young man ran a disdainful eye over Taly as Sarina pulled her over. The baker glanced pointedly at a sign hanging off to the side—bright, red letters sloppily spelled out “NO SHARDLESS.”

“No, I couldn’t.” Taly raised her hands to protest as she pulled against Sarina’s firm grip.

But Sarina shooed away her complaint.

“Sarina,” Taly mumbled through gritted teeth, trying to back away. “I can’t be here.”

Sarina stopped, her brow crinkling in confusion before her eyes alighted upon the sign.

One heartbeat, and Sarina had ripped the sign off its tack. The next, she was tearing it in two. A look of stark disapproval colored her delicate fey features as she stepped over to the counter and tossed the remains at the shopkeeper.

“I’ll be speaking to your father about this,” Sarina said, honeyed venom lacing her words.

The shopkeeper, who couldn’t have been much older than Taly, had the good sense to hang his head. There wasn’t a person on the island that didn’t know and respect Sarina. Or fear her fiery temper.

Taly felt a tightness in her chest release and give way as Sarina pulled her over to stand in front of the counter. Some of the loneliness that had settled deep inside her started to ease. Even though the way Taly had left the manor had been unintentionally abrupt, Sarina had never stopped fighting for her.

Sarina made a show of dusting off her hands before handing the flustered man two gold coins. He fumbled, dropping the coins and dipping behind the counter to pick them up as Sarina began stuffing several pieces of the most decadent, ripe fruit Taly had ever seen into a small burlap bag.

Handing Taly the sack, Sarina raised a perfectly manicured brow. “And did you really think I’d forgotten it was your birthday today?” A glazed sweet roll suddenly appeared in Taly’s open palm.

Taly couldn’t help but smile as she stared at the steaming pastry. She had expected her birthday to go by completely forgotten. As she accepted the bag, she did her best to school her expression into something that said, You don’t have to do this but thank you anyway, and I’m doing just fine. Failing miserably, she settled for trying not to look too hungry as she took a bite of the roll. The delicious combination of butter and sugar burst onto her tongue, and she had to suppress a moan of pleasure. She’d always had a sweet tooth, especially when it came to pastries. “Thank you,” she mumbled through a mouthful of bread.

Sarina laughed and gestured for them to continue. Taly chewed thoughtfully, savoring each bite of the sweet treat, as she allowed herself to be led down the street.

“You know,” Sarina said quietly, interrupting her thoughts, “everyone misses you back at the manor. You could always come back—even just to visit.”

Taly winced, the lie she’d repeatedly told herself and others slipping past her lips mechanically: “You and Ivain were far kinder to me than you needed to be—I acknowledge that, and I’m grateful. But I’m still mortal, Sarina. I’ll start aging faster than you all very soon, within a few years, and… I don’t want you to watch that. I don’t want you to watch me grow old and feeble, watch me die.”

Sarina huffed. “You act like you’re already going gray.”

“Sarina, please,” Taly sighed. They’d been over this before. “I need my own life. One separate from the Marquess and the manor. This past year has been hard. Really hard. But I still think cutting ties was the right decision. I need to look forward, not back.”

“I know, I know,” Sarina said with a wave of her hand. “You’ve told me all this already. And while I still don’t agree with your reasoning, you’re well past the age of me being able to tell you what to do. All I will say is what I’ve always said. My brother and I—we knew the dangers of entangling our lives with mortals when we took you in. We knew, and we did it anyway because the joy of a life lived together exceeds the pain of parting.”

Taly swallowed her last bite of bread, the taste to turning to ash.

“Skye understands too,” Sarina went on. “Not in any tangible way, of course. He hasn’t yet experienced that kind of loss. But he’s always known you were human, Taly. He knew the risks, knew that you would one day die, leaving him behind. It just never mattered. Not until you decided it did.”

Taly stopped and stared moodily at her feet. While the story she had fed Sarina didn’t reveal her true motivations in leaving the manor, it still had some truth to it. Her mortality was a problem—one she felt acutely, if not for the reasons she had just stated. While she had always known that she would eventually outpace those closest to her—she would grow old while they stayed young—she had never realized just how differently fey society viewed her. A human. To most fey, she was little better than an animal, and after spending almost her entire life under the Marquess’ protection, that had been a hard lesson.

Doing her best to ignore the sudden tremble in her hands, Taly finally mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Sarina stood there for a long moment, hooking a finger underneath Taly’s chin as she observed the younger woman quietly. Taly’s cheeks burned, and her eyes felt oddly damp as she focused on the spattering of freckles on Sarina’s nose, unable to look her directly in the eye. She had been on the receiving end of that furtive stare too many times, and though she had gotten much better at hiding her emotions over the past year, she knew Sarina would see right through her.

Finally, seemingly satisfied, Sarina waved her forward. “I have a job for you.”

“What kind of job?” Taly muttered, wiping at her eyes discreetly.

Chuckling, Sarina replied, “I thought that might pique your interest. I have someone that needs to be escorted to the Aion Gate.”

“What kind of someone?” Taly asked suspiciously as she followed Sarina around a corner. The evasive tone in her old governess’ voice was all-too-familiar, and it immediately put Taly on edge.

“The kind that wants to go to the Aion Gate. It’s been a tough year, and our regular guides have all been hired out. You know the area as well as anyone else, so I recommended you.”

Taly eyed her skeptically, noting how Sarina had yet to tell her this mysterious someone’s name.

“He’s offering to pay you,” Sarina added. Still no name, but maybe it was real? Sarina wouldn’t offer a job that wasn’t real. “And provide food and equipment. It’s a good deal.”

Taly absentmindedly chewed on a hangnail as she considered the offer. She could use the work. And while the Aion Gate was dangerous, it was less than a day’s ride there and back.

It’s fast coin.

Completely absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice when Sarina reached over and pushed her hand away from her mouth. She had always hated it when Taly chewed her nails.

Looking at the woman in startled irritation, Taly asked, “What’s the catch, Sarina?”

Sarina ignored the question. “I told him you’d want to speak with him before agreeing to take the job,” she said with an evasive smile. “We’re almost there, actually.”

There’s definitely a catch, Taly thought, fighting the urge to turn around and walk the other way.

They were nearing the southern edge of town now, and in the distance, a man paced back and forth restlessly.

Taly squinted her eyes against the bright sunlight. She couldn’t make out his face, but she could clearly see that his clothing was expensive. His blue waistcoat looked to be made of silk, and the clean white shirt underneath was crisp and pressed. He wore black, loosely fitted slacks, a style that was currently favored among the highborn gentry, and a navy greatcoat trimmed in gold trailed out behind him.

At least it looks like he has coin.

Something was off, though. The way he moved was familiar. The way he would scuff at the dirt with his heel. And how he kept running his hands through his hair—almost like a nervous tic? She’d seen it before.

The realization hit her hard.

“No.” Taly stopped abruptly and glared at the traitorous woman beside her.

Unsympathetically, Sarina grabbed her shoulders and pushed her forward, paying no mind to the villagers that had to dodge out of the way. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, she said, “Think about it. Do you really have the luxury of saying ‘no’ right now?”

“I’m not sure if you heard, but we didn’t exactly part on good terms the last time we spoke.” Taly dug her heels in as Sarina continued to push her forward. That was, perhaps, a bit of an understatement. Skye had tracked her down just a few weeks after she had left the manor, and the exchange had become… heated. They had both screamed some things in anger that could never be unsaid.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” the older woman replied airily. Even though she didn’t have shadow magic, Sarina was still highborn and, therefore, far stronger than even the strongest mortals. She easily rebuffed the younger woman’s struggles.

Taly leaned back, trying to use her weight to slow down their progress. “I don’t know. ‘Fine. Die for all I care. I never want to see you again,’ seems like a pretty straightforward way to wash your hands of someone.”

She felt Sarina pause behind her and used that as an opportunity to push back. She actually managed to gain a foot or two before Sarina renewed her efforts. “Hmmm. He left that part out.”

“Yeah? I’m not surprised. In light of this new information, I think it’s clear why you should just let me slink off into cowardly anonymity. If you think about it, it’s really best for everyone involved.” Taly, to her great dismay, was still losing ground.

“It’s for your own good,” was all Sarina said before giving her a hard shove.

Taly released a muted squeak as she stumbled forward. Trying but ultimately failing to find her footing, she started to fall, helplessly flailing as the ground rushed up to meet her. But instead of finding herself face-down in the dirt, her cheek collided with soft linen. Her eyes scrunched tight, and she braced herself. It seemed today was a day for reunions.

“Hi Skye,” Taly mumbled, her voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. From the corner of her eye, she could see Sarina’s retreating form disappear around a corner, and she made a mental note not to trust that woman anymore. About anything .

“Hey there, stranger,” Skye said softly. His fingers flexed in the fabric of her coat, steadying her, and for a moment she thought he was going to embrace her. She felt a small pang of disappointment when he didn’t.

When she finally found her feet and pulled away, irritation quickly took the place of disappointment. He looked exactly the same. The same vibrant green eyes. The same lanky, muscled frame. The same pale, flawless skin. Sure, his hair was a little longer, but the dark locks were still just as tousled and unruly as she remembered.

Jerk , she thought petulantly. Really, how was it fair that he looked just as he did the last time they spoke while she probably more closely resembled a half-drowned alley cat than she did a human girl at this point?

Taly forced herself to breathe. To school her expression as she took an awkward step back. She didn’t miss the flicker of pain that flashed across his face. In a blink, it was gone, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it.

“So, I see you’re still alive,” Skye teased, breaking what was becoming an uncomfortable silence.

He shifted his weight and ran a hand through his dark hair, revealing the delicate, sharpened point of his ear—as if she needed to be reminded of his parentage. His every feature, his every movement screamed highborn. This small group of ruling-class nobility could trace their lineage all the way back to the Faera—the long-dead gods from which all fey were said to be descended. All of the most powerful magic users in this and all other known worlds were highborn. And Skye, known at the Dawn Court as Lord Skylen Emrys, was the heir to one of the oldest, most powerful families on the fey mainland—House Ghislain.

Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, Taly scuffed the dirt at her feet. “Try not to sound so surprised.”

Skye laughed, easy and relaxed, and a fond smile curved his lips. “I’m not surprised. You were always a lot tougher than you looked.” Hesitating, his expression sobered. “And I’m sorry about the things I said the last time we spoke. I was out of line, and… I didn’t mean any of it. I was worried about you, and I just wanted you to come home.” He shrugged and hung his head sheepishly. “You know how my mouth gets away from me sometimes.”

Taly huffed. She didn’t know what to do with that. He wasn’t supposed to apologize. Seriously, since when did he apologize?

She opened her mouth… and then shut it. She tried again, but still nothing.

And then she saw it—that telltale smirk she knew all too well. He managed to quickly school his expression, but not before she’d already seen through his act.

Taly’s hands clenched into fists. He had always known how to get under her skin and leave her floundering. He wasn’t sorry about what he said. He just wanted to fluster her. Scowling, Taly muttered, “Yeah, well. Mind telling me why you and Sarina decided to ambush me this morning?”

“Ivain has a job for you.”

“I don’t want it,” Taly said abruptly, turning on her heel .

She heard Skye jog after her, so she quickened her pace. He could catch her easily if he had a mind to, but hopefully, he would take the hint and go away.

A hand reached out and grabbed her arm, and she instinctively twisted her body and drew her blade in a single, fluid motion. By the time she had managed to process the situation, her knife was already pressed against Skye’s stomach.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Put that thing away before you hurt yourself,” he said, low and cold.

Clenching her teeth, Taly deftly flicked her blade, cutting off one of the gold buttons on his waistcoat and catching it in the palm of her hand. She promptly flung it at his face. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.” Once again, she turned to leave.

“Would you just wait?” he called after her, frowning as he pulled at the loose threads on his coat. He sounded more desperate this time. “You don’t even know what the job is.”

Taly rounded on him. “You want me to take you to the Aion Gate. Sarina already made the pitch, and since I’m not really in the mood to take on any guide work at the moment, that doesn’t leave us much to talk about. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think we’re done here.” She really shouldn’t have enjoyed how out of sorts he looked. He was almost pouting.

Taly turned to leave again, but he wasn’t done quite yet.

“Would you just come to the manor and talk about it? I promise it’s official Gate Watcher business, and Ivain is willing to pay you good money.” When she paused, he added, “Please, Taly. We’re in a tough spot. Ivain and I haven’t been to the Aion Gate since the last time it opened—almost five years now—and you know how unreliable the roads on the northern part of the island can be. We need a guide, and Sarina says that you’ve been making the trip pretty regularly.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Skye.” Taly kept her back to him but made no further movement to leave.

He sighed and stared at his feet. “It’s your birthday, right? Just come to the house. I’m sure Eliza would make lamb and noodles for dinner. The kind with cream and garlic. Your favorite.”

Taly remained silent. Despite the melancholy and loneliness that still burned deep in her belly, it wasn’t really her birthday—just a random day they had chosen to celebrate every year. Since she couldn’t remember anything from before the fire, she didn’t know when her “real” birthday was.

Still, real or not, she couldn’t deny that it might feel good not to spend the day alone. And it had been a lean month. If there really was a job, she could use the coin.

No! the rational part of her mind screamed. No, no, no…

Going back to the manor just wasn’t a good idea. She had worked too hard trying to separate herself from her old life to walk right back into it. She needed to walk away. And she would.

Any minute now.

Skye took a step towards her, slowly rounding on her like he would a wounded animal. “You can take a bath. We have hot water.” He watched her closely and smiled when he saw her lips quirk. He had her attention, and he knew it. Bending at the waist, he caught her eye. “Remember how Ivain had the fire and water crystals in your bathroom replaced? You could run enough hot water to last a week. I think Sarina even has some of that fanged rose oil you used to like so much.”

Taly bounced on her heels, conflicted. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to take a proper bath. And hot water would feel so nice right about now. Especially since she was still soaked through and shivering.

Damn wyverns . If she wasn’t careful, she would end up getting sick. That would make earning coin even more difficult.

Taly growled and kicked at the dirt. “Okay. Fine. But just to be clear. I’m in this for the coin. And the hot water, but mostly the coin.” She shook her head. She was getting distracted. “I’ll listen to the pitch, but I can’t waste all day there. I’ve got other things I need to do today.”

“Understood.” Skye smiled, standing to his full height.

He offered her his arm, but she pointedly ignored him as she marched ahead. She was irritated, and she wanted him to know it. True, most of her irritation was directed at herself for giving in so easily, but he didn’t need to know that.

Skye heaved out a sigh, looking after her despondently. After a moment, he jogged to catch up, falling into step beside her as they walked towards the manor. He didn’t press her to speak, and when Taly glared up at him, he just grinned and shrugged. It seemed he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut now that she had agreed to accompany him.

As they approached the city gate, Taly spotted a flash of gold in her peripheral vision. Her heart began to race, roaring in her ears, but she didn’t dare turn her head to look. Out of the corner of her eye, she could make out the ghostly golden forms of a family walking past them as they made their way into the village. They were ethereal, almost translucent, but no one on the street reacted to their sudden appearance. The villagers went on about their day, completely unaware.

Moments later, a barghest appeared on the road, pulling at its master’s leash. The dog and its owner unknowingly barreled through the spectral procession. The golden haze stuttered for a moment but then reformed around the disturbance, the edges of the strange hallucination even more defined than before.

Closing her eyes, Taly took a deep breath, willing the vision to disappear. Please, please go away. I don’t need to deal with this right now. She swallowed past a lump in her throat, silently pleading with whoever might be listening. When she opened her eyes again, she was relieved to find nothing out of the ordinary.

Skye nodded his head in greeting as they passed a farmer and his young family coming in through the gate, turning when a loud peal of childish laughter pierced the air. Taly didn’t have to look back to know that the little boy sandwiched between his parents had run ahead to pet the barghest as it waited on its master at a nearby fruit stand or that the gentle beast had proceeded to cover the child in slobber. She had already seen the scene play out in its entirety only moments before.

I hope this isn’t a mistake, she thought, staring straight ahead as they turned down the road that would lead them to Harbor Manor.