Page 1

Chapter 1

Avery

A very walked up the incline, dust puffing out with each step. The summer heat had made a reappearance, clinging desperately to the end of the season, and her trusty mare had already been pulling Avery’s cart since early morning. Nutmeg didn’t need the extra weight of Avery herself, even if the hill was barely steep enough to warrant the name.

On any other day, she would have already stopped for the evening. But she was too close to Henton not to push on. The village might have been modest in size, but it was still going to afford her a better bed than a makeshift camp by the side of the road.

They crested the small rise and paused, horse and girl’s motions in sync after so many years of shared travels. As Nutmeg rested, Avery gazed at the village before her in satisfaction. She had wanted to rush straight to Henton six months earlier, but there would have been no point arriving before her allotted time. Instead, she had busied herself in Stonyfell and Oakden while she waited. But now, after traversing three kingdoms, she had finally reached her main destination.

Her eyes caught on a steady stream of thick smoke rising from the largest chimney on the main street, and she smiled. It wasn’t actually Henton she was seeking, but Henton’s smith.

Avery clicked her tongue, and Nutmeg resumed her forward progress, the cart lurching behind her. It already carried a nearly full load, but that didn’t matter. The item Avery had come to Henton to acquire wasn’t going to take up much space.

They reached the flat ground at the bottom of the small hill, the first buildings of the town just ahead of them. Nutmeg stopped again, and Avery patted her neck, crooning softly to her.

“Are you tired, girl? You can have oats tonight after all your hard work.”

“Oh!” A startled exclamation from the crest of the rise made Avery look back. A pretty, golden-haired girl stared down at her with wide eyes.

The girl hurried forward, her face bright, and Avery smiled in response. She looked around Avery’s own age of nineteen—or perhaps a couple years younger—but any similarities between them ended there. Avery’s hair was dark and her eyes gray, but the true differences ran much deeper than physical appearance.

Avery had met many girls her own age in her travels, but none of them had understood what it meant to live a roving life, always moving on to new places and new horizons. Just as Avery couldn’t fathom what it meant to have a true home—a life forever rooted in one place with no opportunity for escape.

“You’re a peddler!” the girl exclaimed breathlessly as she stumbled to a stop beside Avery’s cart. “Aren’t you?” She gasped. “Are you Avery? I’ve heard about you!”

Avery laughed at the girl’s infectious enthusiasm. “I prefer roving merchant.”

“But you are Avery?” the girl asked, undaunted.

Avery nodded. She was used to people knowing her name. There were few true traveling merchants among the kingdoms. Most merchant trains stopped at their own kingdom’s border, exchanging goods there with matching merchant trains from the neighboring kingdom. And of the few roving merchants who did travel across borders, Avery was the only one who traveled alone. Of course, she hadn’t always been alone, but two years of solo travel as a young woman had been enough to ensure her reputation preceded her. Especially since she had a knack for acquiring items that were unusual, useful, valuable, or all three.

“I’m Olivia,” the girl said, still breathless from her dash down the hill. “I heard a rumor you’d be visiting here soon, but I wasn’t sure it was true. Nothing interesting ever happens in Henton.”

Avery grinned at the girl’s dissatisfied tone. Maybe she and Olivia were more alike than she’d initially thought.

A youthful shout interrupted their fledgling conversation. Both girls turned back toward the hill to see a younger boy of about ten with similar coloring and features to Olivia. He stared down at them from the top of the hill, his hands resting on an enormous pumpkin which stood almost as tall as he did.

“Olivia!” he shouted again. “Who’s that? Is it a peddler?” He was panting as if he had just rolled the pumpkin up the far side of the hill, but even so, he seemed more excited at the sight of Avery than Olivia had been.

“Careful, Laurie!” Olivia shouted with more alarm than seemed warranted.

Her brother took no notice of her warning, however. Abandoning his awkward burden, he took off running toward them. Immediately two things happened.

Laurie, showing more speed than coordination, tripped over his feet and fell. Carried by his momentum, he tumbled down the hill without pause. At the same time, the pumpkin shifted, unbalanced at the top of the incline without Laurie to hold it. It tipped forward and rolled after the boy, gathering speed.

Avery and Olivia threw themselves into motion simultaneously. As Laurie finally reached flat ground and tumbled to a stop, Olivia leaped toward him. He groaned, stirring feebly and showing no awareness of the danger rolling toward him, so she threw herself protectively over him, bracing her back against the coming boulder-like threat.

Avery, however, had launched herself uphill toward the pumpkin, her mind working as fast as her feet. If she threw herself in front of it, she was going to be the one to be flattened. But she didn’t need to stop it completely, just avert its course from Olivia and her brother.

Without time to think of a more sophisticated plan, Avery threw herself sideways at the pumpkin, her shoulder colliding with it as it rolled past. The pumpkin felt solid—more solid than a vegetable had any right to feel as far as Avery was concerned. Why couldn’t it have been a giant lettuce?

The force of the collision sent Avery ricocheting to the ground. She landed hard, curling instinctively into a protective position that prevented any serious injury.

The pumpkin wobbled precariously, veering sideways and tipping onto its stalk. It bumped and bounced, sliding across the ground for a few more yards before coming to a stop not far from the closest fence.

Silence fell as Avery, Olivia, and Laurie all slowly raised their heads. Laurie stared at the pumpkin, his eyes widening.

“Boy, am I lucky!” he exclaimed. “If the pumpkin had hit the fence, Farmer Hawthorne would have killed me!”

“You’re lucky the pumpkin didn’t kill you!” Olivia cried, scrambling to her feet in disgust. “I told you not to bring it.”

“But Mistress Thatcher said she’d bake Jimmy and me a pie if I rolled a pumpkin in for her!”

Avery climbed to her feet, rubbing her sore shoulder and eyeing the pumpkin, which now lay at an odd angle a few yards away from them. “That pumpkin would make a lot of pies.”

Olivia sighed and hauled Laurie up. “Which is why Madam Thatcher keeps wheedling the local boys into bringing her one. She makes them a pie or two?—”

“Or three!” Laurie interjected.

“And she’s left with a pantry full of pumpkin jars,” Olivia finished.

“I’d rather have a finished pie than the job of cutting up that monstrosity,” Avery murmured.

Olivia paused. “You know, when you put it like that, you’re right. Maybe I’ll help you push it there, Laurie.”

Laurie grinned, his spirits already recovered from his tumble. “Mistress Thatcher likes you better than me. She’ll probably bake you a whole pie of your own.”

He dashed over to the pumpkin and tried to push it back onto its side, struggling to get it out of the divot it had made in the dirt. Olivia sighed and walked over to assist him. Together they got it rolling again, directing their path toward Avery.

“I don’t know why I’m complaining,” Olivia muttered as they drew near. “This is the most interesting thing to happen in weeks.” Her expression brightened as she looked in Avery’s direction. “Other than your arrival, of course. Have you really been to all six kingdoms?”

Avery laughed. “Yes, I have. I grew up traveling the kingdoms.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “Imagine that! How fascinating.” She spoke as if Avery was some incomprehensible oddity, but Avery just smiled.

For most of the inhabitants of the kingdoms, she was an oddity, so she’d long since got used to it. Some people romanticized her life, but more felt sorry for her, unable to imagine that anyone could truly want to spend their life on the move. But Olivia’s air of dissatisfaction seemed to indicate she was one of the few who disliked a settled life.

“Do you really want to leave Henton?” Avery asked her curiously. “Have you ever been traveling?”

“No, but I’m considering moving elsewhere,” she replied. “My extended family are famous for moving around.”

“Really?” Avery looked at her more closely. Was Olivia from a remote line of roving merchants?

It would explain her wanderlust. And it would also mean she and Avery were distantly related in one way or another. Every one of the roving merchants shared at least some blood. It was the only reason they had been able to maintain their nomadic lifestyle through the generations.

“Most of my family have only traveled within Sovar, of course,” Olivia added, and Avery’s momentary excitement waned.

Most people were content to remain where they were born, but for the more adventurous among the general population, there was always the option of traveling within the borders of their home kingdom. People moved for jobs, or for love, or for climate, or to join family—there were all kinds of reasons. But they didn’t move to other kingdoms.

“Not all of my relatives stayed in our kingdom, though,” Olivia added with a note of pride, reminding Avery that there was always the occasional person who didn’t fit the normal mold. “While my grandfather picked Henton of all places, his brother moved to Glandore. I have cousins there. For a while I even had a cousin in Oakden.”

Avery’s eyebrows rose. Family in three kingdoms was impressive. Her interest pricked again. Did the Legacy treat Olivia’s family lightly? Was that what made them so mobile?

The Legacies were the forces that shaped each kingdom around its unique history—weaving the elements of those founding stories into the environment, the animals, the plants, even the people. And the Legacies didn’t like people leaving their birth kingdoms. If Olivia did ever choose to leave her kingdom, the Sovar Legacy would enact a price. No one could predict in advance what it would be, but she would suffer a burden for living elsewhere.

Every person born in the kingdoms was bound by their kingdom’s Legacy—everyone except those who shared Avery’s bloodline. Their freedom was what had made them roving merchants, and it was what kept them in that profession through the generations. Avery liked her life and valued her ability to travel, but she had always known her family’s freedom was a bond of the Legacy in its own way. If they hadn’t spent their lives traveling, her parents might never have contracted the wasting fever that had killed them both. Avery might never have found herself alone.

She brushed aside thoughts of her parents, focusing back on Olivia. “Are you thinking of following your great-uncle’s example and moving to another kingdom?” she asked.

Olivia laughed. “I’m not that reckless. But I am considering moving to the capital.” She rushed to continue, as if afraid Avery might laugh at her. “My father has cousins there who run a successful business. They wrote that if any of us wanted a job, we would be welcome to join them.”

“You should go,” Avery said. “You clearly want to.” If she’d been heading toward the capital herself, she would have offered for Olivia to travel with her. She didn’t often feel inclined to take on a traveling companion, even a short term one, but Olivia had shown she had the potential to become a friend.

Avery wasn’t heading southeast to the capital, though. As soon as she received her order from the smith, she would be returning in the opposite direction. Her commission had already been delayed by six months, and she couldn’t delay it any further. Lives were depending on her.

It was better that way anyway. If she did spend more time with Olivia, and they became friends, it would only make it hard to say goodbye. Avery had freedom, but she didn’t have many friends. Her lifestyle didn’t allow it.

Still, she couldn’t entirely shake the fellow feeling she had been surprised to discover in Olivia. Acting on impulse, she rummaged in the back of her cart, pulling out a small, wrapped item. She couldn’t offer the Henton girl a journey to the capital, but perhaps she could help her in another way.

She offered the item to Olivia with a smile. “I hope you do decide to go to the city. And if you do, maybe you’ll find this helpful.”

Olivia unwrapped the item with a quizzical expression, almost as if she was uncertain she would like whatever was inside. Avery glanced at Laurie, who was watching with an avid expression. From Olivia’s response, Avery could guess she had a long history with unwelcome surprises presented as gifts. She probably had more brothers at home than just Laurie.

When the soft material fell away, Olivia held up a tiny mirror with an elegant silver frame and handle. She gasped.

“It’s beautiful!” she said at the same moment her brother cried, “It’s tiny!”

She gave him a stern look, and he shrugged.

“What? It is tiny. I’ve never seen such a small mirror.”

It was true that the mirror was too small to reflect Olivia’s entire head, but she could see most of her face, and she stared down at it, rapt. Avery wondered what she saw.

“It comes from Auldana,” she said lightly, and Olivia immediately gasped.

Tearing her eyes from the mirror, she stared at Avery with shocked eyes.

“Auldana?” she cried. “I can’t accept something so valuable.” But even as she said the words, she clutched the mirror against her chest.

Avery chuckled. “I think you already have.”

“What does it matter where it was made?” Laurie was already losing interest in the gift now that he’d seen what it was.

“Don’t you ever pay attention in school?” Olivia scolded. “I know your class learned about the other kingdoms’ Legacies. The Auldana Legacy lets the Auldanans make mirrors with all sorts of fantastical properties.” She looked up at Avery. “What does this one show?”

“When it reflects a person’s face, it shows their true emotions rather than their actual expression,” Avery replied.

She’d never felt the need for such an item herself. In a lifetime of travel she’d been exposed to countless people, and her parents had taught her to read the subtle shifts of their expressions and to hear the truth behind their words. But Olivia had spent her whole life in one village. If she was going to move to the capital, she might need the extra help.

Olivia pulled the mirror away from her chest and peered into it, eyes wide. Avery wanted to ask if she saw any shift in her reflection, but she remained silent. When Olivia began to sputter her gratitude, she cut her off, however.

“Don’t thank me too quickly,” she said dryly. “I’ve been carrying that around for over a year, and there’s a reason I haven’t sold it in all that time. It was made by an apprentice, and it doesn’t always work.”

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Olivia breathed. “I’ve never received a gift like this in my life.” A determined light filled her eyes. “I am going to go to the capital. I’ll have my father write to his cousin tonight.”

Avery smiled, her satisfaction shot with only the slightest hint of concern. After encouraging her to go, she hoped Olivia didn’t meet with disaster in her travels.

She shrugged the nebulous worries aside. Olivia was going because she wanted to go. If Avery carried the worries of everyone she met, her mind would be too full of worries to function.

Her mother had warned her many times against getting too attached. Avery had always been allowed to play with the local children, but she’d rarely stayed anywhere long enough to form true friendships. Only the cousins she’d traveled with had ever qualified for that title.

Avery took Nutmeg’s lead rope and called a cheery farewell to Olivia and her brother. The two had begun squabbling—Laurie demanding Olivia’s help with rolling the pumpkin, and Olivia protesting that she had to protect her new gift—but they broke off to ask if Avery needed directions.

“I think I can find the smith on my own,” Avery said, her emotions hovering between amusement and sadness. She’d always wanted a sibling.

Nutmeg began walking, and Avery kept pace with her. As they went, she shook out her arm, wincing at the bruise that was already forming. It reminded her again of her parents. They had been half-proud and half-concerned over Avery’s penchant for throwing herself into danger. She’d resolved a hundred times to be more cautious in the future, but she couldn’t see someone in trouble and not respond. And most dangerous situations called for quick action—there wasn’t time to sit around thinking through all the options. So what else could she do?

It didn’t take long to reach the source of the thick stream of smoke. As expected, it originated from a large, open smith’s workshop. The clanging of metal on metal rang down the street, clearly heralding the building’s purpose.

Avery slowed as she approached, her new acquaintances forgotten in the anticipation of the moment. She had been waiting six months to meet Henton’s smith.

Olivia had said nothing interesting ever happened in Henton, but for an unremarkable village in the middle of Sovar’s extensive grazing lands, it was unusually famous. Knowledgeable sources all knew that the most remarkable smith in six kingdoms had chosen to settle there. No one knew why, and Avery could only conclude he must have wanted peace and quiet.

But if he had hoped to avoid attention or customers, he had failed. Few customers visited him personally—they would have to travel to do that—but traditional merchant caravans were always eager for his wares. He had a list of commissions that stretched months into the future—thus why Avery had been forced to wait.

Avery didn’t usually accept such direct requests from her customers. She preferred the freedom of choosing where she traveled and when. But the townsfolk of Bolivere had been desperate—too desperate to put an order through the traditional merchant systems and wait the extra time that would require. They needed help as soon as possible, and Avery had been concerned enough to assist. Her subsequent six months of travel had been more unsettled than usual, her thoughts always circling back to northeastern Glandore and the isolated town of Bolivere as she wondered how many more had died.

Nutmeg arrived at the smithy, and Avery secured her rope to the post provided for the purpose. As she straightened, her gaze caught on a figure on the far side of the street. He wore a travel cloak covered in dust, and he leaned against the side of the building directly across from the smith, his intense gaze on the smithy.

The young man didn’t even seem to notice Avery, his focus on the forge beyond her. But Avery stood for a moment, struck by something she couldn’t articulate. He was good-looking, with wavy brown hair and eyes so blue she could see their color from across the street, but she had seen good-looking men before.

Was it his single-minded focus that was out of place in the setting? Or was it the haggard cast of his features? He looked as if he had only just recovered from an extensive illness and was upright only due to the assistance of the shoulder he had propped against the wall. And yet his focus didn’t waver.

If he had been waiting outside a healing clinic, it might have made sense. But while the Henton smith made remarkable objects, he didn’t work with anything that had healing qualities. Avery was there to save lives, but her situation was unique.

She stilled. Was it concern for someone else and not his own health that had affected the man’s countenance so dramatically? Could he have come from Bolivere? Had the situation there worsened in Avery’s absence?

Without thinking, Avery stepped toward the man, drawn irresistibly in his direction. She would ask him if?—

Her approach finally pulled the man’s attention away from the smith, and for a moment, he seemed as struck by her appearance as she had been by his. But a second later, his face was wiped clean of expression, and he pushed himself off the building. Walking with more strength than she had expected from someone who looked so weak, he hurried back between the building that had been supporting him and the one beside it, quickly disappearing from sight.

Avery took several hurried steps after him before stopping. What was she doing? If the man had been from Bolivere, he would know about her mission and would have recognized her, not run away.

He had struck a discordant note in his surroundings, and it had made her curious, but she couldn’t lose her focus. Her father had always warned her that curiosity could get her in trouble. She would never see the young man again, so she had to shake thoughts of him off, just as she had with Olivia and Laurie.

Avery turned back to the smithy and strode inside without looking back. A burly man with heavily muscled arms looked up from beside the fire and slowly raised his brows.

“I’m Avery,” she said. “I’m here for the enchanted lamp I ordered.”