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Jude

It is a mystery as to why the gods hid after the disappearance of the sun goddess. Some say they are cursed, just like our lands, while others believe they are afraid. Though of what is not certain.

Excerpt from Asidian Lore: a Tale of the Gods

The Sly Fox was as rowdy as ever.

A band struck up a merry tune on the center stage, and drinkers swayed while clutching their full mugs of ale. The place reeked of sweat and drink and bad decisions.

“Oh, no, not today!” Finn groaned when he saw me approach.

I’d been forced to come here every day since I’d arrived in the city, and every day, I was turned away. Seeing that woman was the only solution I had at the moment. She had knowledge , and she refused to see me.

It was risky showing up in such a crowded establishment when my face was plastered on wanted posters throughout Fortuna. I’d lived in relative anonymity as King Cirian’s assassin, but now, my likeness was everywhere. I loathed it.

How the king even knew I was alive and not dead in the Mist remained a mystery.

The hulking bodyguard stood before a red door leading to the Fox’s study , where she was no doubt hiding from me. The woman hadn’t shown her face in her own tavern since I’d come seeking aid. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she found me a threat.

“As I’ve told you the last five times, the Mistress will not see you, and she certainly doesn’t have what you claim.” Finn crossed both arms, his forearms like tree trunks. “As an upstanding citizen of Fortuna, she—”

I waved a hand to stop him before he embarrassed himself. He’d given that same speech many times over, but everyone in the entire realm knew just how upstanding the infamous thief truly was.

“We both know what she keeps behind that locked and heavily guarded door, and if anyone has what I need, it’s her.”

She had robbed every city in Asidia, selling secrets, ancient texts, and classified information as easily as jewels. She left a single claw mark after each heist, which wasn’t exactly subtle. But I was here for information…and there was also the little conversation we’d yet to have. One that was nineteen years in the making.

I glowered at Finn, the seven-foot-tall, three-hundred-pound bodyguard smirking before me like a king ruling over a kingdom of thieves and cutthroats.

“Regardless of what you believe”—Finn leaned closer, his voice a throaty rasp—“you won’t get help from her. She’s been through enough, and you are a complication she doesn’t need. One I won’t allow to hurt her further.”

Hurt her ?

We were inches apart. His heated breath was fanning across my cheeks, his lips pulled up in a snarl. I recognized that look on his face, the defensiveness. How quickly his mask had slipped.

He might care for her, but I still wouldn’t bow. I had someone I , too, cared for.

“Tell the Fox I’m not leaving Fortuna,” I warned, lowering my voice to a menacing rumble. One didn’t need to raise their voice to deliver a threat. Isiah taught me that. “She either sees me or…” I stepped closer, allowing Finn time to inspect the now - infamous scars marking my face. “I will be forced to share some things the Fox would rather be kept secret.”

Me.

Finn’s eyes flickered to the blade strapped to my belt as I pulled away.

It wasn’t the Godslayer. I wasn’t careless enough to keep it on my person, and as the good commander I’d been trained to be, I had prepared a backup plan…however flimsy it was. Still, a sheen of sweat lined his deep brown skin. Maybe he wasn’t as immune to me as I believed.

Finn’s nostrils flared. “I’ll relay the message, again , but if you step out of line and make any attempts to harm my mistress, know you’ll have to face me first.” He was loyal to a fault, a rarity in this place. I wondered how the Fox had garnered such devotion.

I stared a beat longer, watching as another bead of perspiration slid down his temple, gliding over a tattoo of a detached claw inking the right side of his face.

The mark of the Fox. Of my mother.

I dipped my chin in understanding, though we both knew this was far from over. Spinning on a heel, I crept deeper into the tavern and to the end of the bar. When Finn’s attention was averted, captured by a man wearing an obnoxious orange coat, I slipped out my blade. The counter was riddled with cuts and stains, so when I carved my initials onto the side of the bar—along with an uneven crescent moon—I doubted anyone would pay it heed.

Kiara would know. If I ever got caught, she’d know I was here, and maybe by that time, I would have convinced the Fox to help.

Slipping my dagger back into its sheath, I stood before the bartender could shuffle my way. Shoving open the doors, I braced myself for the blast of cold. It stung my cheeks after being inside the tavern’s warmth.

With a grimace, I tugged my hood low over my eyes and strolled through the corrupt underbelly of Fortuna. I hated this city, which reeked of all the things I detested about humankind.

Not that I particularly liked many people to begin with.

The thunderous shouts of lively peddlers advertising their wares echoed from every direction of the main square. Some promoted fake cures for incurable ailments, while others offered illegal drugs or drinks that could transport you to a new world where reality couldn’t touch you.

For once, I was tempted, but I needed to stay alert.

I was grateful that the scowling patrons ignored me, scurrying by in their thick, woolen cloaks, their necks protected by heavy, patterned scarves that concealed the lower halves of their faces.

Unlike most cities in Asidia, once they shed their layers, I’d find dresses and tailored suits of lively colors and designs. Rich brocade and velvet. Elaborate top hats of satin. Plunging necklines and shorter hemlines. People exposed copious amounts of skin, reveling in the sin of the flesh. Their kohl-lined eyes and painted lips were brazen and seductive.

While this was a place I had no desire to stay, I couldn’t deny there was an exciting freedom here that was absent from any other region in the realm. Perhaps because Cirian had yet to stake his claim on it.

The stable I rented for Starlight came into view on my left, and before I thought better of it, my feet were moving in her direction.

Orion, the young stable hand manning the entrance, tipped his red checkered cap to me upon arrival. I kept my hood low, not trusting the lad to keep his mouth shut and collect a reward for turning us in.

“She’s been cranky all day,” he complained, scrubbing a muddied hand across his face, grimy streaks left in his wake. “None of the boys can settle her.”

She probably missed Kiara.

So do you, you fool. My pulse hammered at my throat at the very thought of her. But now wasn’t the time to wallow.

Orion directed me inside and unlocked the largest stable.

He waved an impatient hand to the last stall. I flipped him a stolen coin in thanks. I hadn’t wanted to rob men of their coin purses, but I’d been desperate, and some of the bastards deserved it; I didn’t take too kindly to those who treated others they deemed below them poorly.

An agitated neigh sounded from her pen, and I peered inside, finding Starlight rearing on her hind legs, clearly not pleased with the cramped quarters.

“Shhh, girl,” I cooed, holding out placating hands. “It’s just me, old broad.” I used Kiara’s nickname for the beast, and at the sound of it, Starlight settled on all four legs. Though her eyes narrowed as if she were glowering.

This was no ordinary horse. My suspicions had grown since she’d found me in the Mist, no wound on her belly from when the masked men—or the undead men—first struck her with an arrow. She should have been dead.

Bringing my hand to her nose, I let her sniff me before I brushed my palm across her side. “It won’t be long,” I whispered. “As soon as I get the answers we need, we’ll find her.”

Starlight nickered.

“You don’t believe me?” I asked, drawing back to peer into her eyes. “You know I miss her , too.” I said that last part softly. Admitting it out loud cracked the mask I compelled myself to wear.

With a huff, the mare pushed forward, resting her head on top of my shoulder. I continued to shush her, rubbing at her coat.

The connection between us grew with every touch. It felt natural to be astride her, familiar in an impossible way. Then again, nothing was impossible; I was Raina’s descendant , for fuck’s sake.

“I hate to leave you, but I can’t stay too long,” I murmured after fifteen minutes had passed. “Hopefully the next time I see you, we’ll be leaving this place.”

Starlight grunted once more when I broke eye contact. At the door to her pen, I stopped.

Before I thought better of it, I tossed a red matchbook to the side of her enclosure. A claw and ale symbol was embossed in gold on the sides, the sigil for The Sly Fox Tavern . This wasn’t the first time I’d left a clue for Kiara to find should I be captured and she needed help. Help the Fox better offer soon.

My initials were now carved into the bar at The Sly Fox , as I suspected she’d scour all the taverns for word of my presence. At the gambling den, The Rolling Dice , a portrait of a blossoming green field hung in the main room, its flowers reminiscent of the ones found in our glen. If you looked closely enough, you’d see where the parchment folded up, leaving just enough space to slip a note between the art and the frame. A note that simply read, Sly Fox Tavern .

I hadn’t signed it, but Kiara would recognize my handwriting.

I whispered my goodbyes to Starlight, my stomach tying itself into knots as I left the stables.

If anyone had told me a couple of months ago that I would be feeling guilty for leaving a horse, I’d have laughed in their face. Then again, I would’ve laughed had they said I’d meet a vulgar, sarcastic, violent, and stunning woman who’d steal my heart.

Isiah was probably chuckling from the realm of the dead. My fingers traced my old knight’s pin. It wasn’t the one that Kiara took from his dead body, but it symbolized our brotherhood. The cold metal was a comforting weight in my pocket. I never realized he was my closest friend until I lost him.

Back in the frenzy of the main boulevard, I stole past a few beggars and a flurry of children playing with a tattered deck of cards. A group had gathered to watch, some onlookers placing bets.

As if the people sensed who walked among them, the crowd parted, permitting me room to slip through the tangling bodies and down a vacant avenue lit up by muted sunfires.

A bookshop and a curtained-off tea house had their signs set to open , though the latter sold anything but tea. I had a decent idea what wares were sold inside, judging by the man who’d just left it, the top buttons of his trousers undone, and a dazed yet exuberant expression on his ruddy face.

The bells jingled as I opened the door to the bookshop. The only acknowledgment from the burly proprietor sitting at his desk was a single indignant grunt. He’d been paid handsomely to keep his mouth shut. As far as he was concerned, I was a ghost.

I crept through the stacks of books and dusty shelves, making my way to the back of the store, where a wooden staircase led up to the owner’s suites.

There wasn’t a sunfire in sight, but I’d grown up in the darkness, and it was as much a friend to me as my blade. Still, being alone now, cloaked in night’s eternal shade somehow felt…heavier than before.

Past the dingy bathing chamber with its chipped porcelain tub were my humble quarters. I slid the long copper key into the lock and eased inside, bolting and securing it behind me.

While I hadn’t lived in the lap of luxury at the palace, at least I’d been afforded a decent bed. Here, a cot had been shoved into a corner on the floor, the cotton blankets moth-eaten and stained with gods knew what. Aside from the mattress, the space could only accommodate a modest armoire, one door barely hanging on.

No one had discovered me yet, but safety was an illusion—no matter where I went, Cirian would search for me. The wanted posters were proof of that.

Our original group of recruits and knights should’ve returned to Sciona by now, and if Cirian didn’t believe I’d died in the Mist, he’d suspect I’d defected…which I had. The penance for deserting was death, but I imagined he had other plans for me, ones that were far, far worse than a sliced throat. Somehow, some way, he knew I lived.

He’d never get the Godslayer, and that gave me hope.

Dropping onto the mattress with a groan, I shrugged out of my cloak and jacket before bringing my hands to rest on my knees. The silence taunted me more than the screams echoing in my nightmares. Whenever I shut my eyes, I heard her voice and glimpsed her face contorting in agony as Patrick’s blade pierced her skin.

Kiara. She was both a gift and a curse, and the thoughts not devoted to my plan were dedicated to her ethereal image. I couldn’t help it, and I’d long ago ceased to try. Instantly, heat curled within me.

A headache formed between my brows, and I let my head fall onto the stained mattress. Outside, soft rain pattered against the thin plane of the window, its steady melody coaxing me into a much-needed sleep. It had been days since I’d truly shut my eyes and rested.

Before exhaustion finally won, I allowed myself to envision luscious red hair and amber eyes filled with fire. In this waking dream, I wound my arms around her body and tugged her close, inhaling the scent that was distinctly hers.

But the thing about pretending was that it never lived up to the real thing.

…

I woke to the sound of furious knocking.

Instantly, I was on my feet, my blade poised. The shopkeeper knew not to come anywhere near my room, so it couldn’t be him, which meant—

Shit . I snagged my jacket and cloak and raced to the window facing the back alley. A heartbeat later and the pounding ceased.

Just as I leapt onto the metal ledge outside my room, the door flung open, the wood shattering and splintering. I caught sight of three armed men wearing the crimson of the King’s Guard, silver helmets covering their heads.

Cirian’s men.

“Stop!” one of them shouted, but I was already dropping from the second story and onto the street below. My boots barely made a sound when I landed in a crouch.

I peeked over my shoulder before taking off into a run, finding one of them waving wildly out the window. His oafish comrades were likely sprinting down the steps to give chase.

All traces of sleep were gone, replaced with welcomed adrenaline.

Failure wasn’t an option.

If my life was the only one on the line, I would’ve faced them all and hopefully left a slaughter in my wake. But there were people relying on me now. People who cared if I lived or died. Such a burden their love had become, and yet I carried it tightly.

Not to mention the lives of an entire realm.

I snagged the timepiece from my jacket pocket, noting it to be three in the morning. Even now, the city thrived with drunken revelers, and it wasn’t hard to slip into the masses, secure my hood in place, and blend in.

Slowing, I attempted an easy gait, my pulse hammering and sweat slicking my brow. I’d been found sooner than I expected, and without a clue as to how to save Kiara from an untimely end, we were both screwed.

The truth was, I should’ve known better than to linger here. My pride had gotten in the way, my need to show my mother I wasn’t some child she could toss aside again. Not that it mattered to her in the end. People didn’t change, no matter how much their actions could tear at the scraps of your heart.

Seeing as I couldn’t return to The Sly Fox, I continued down one of the larger streets, passing by a couple of the more modest gambling dens teeming with patrons.

Shouts rose at my back, but I didn’t run.

Instead, I ventured into The Rolling Dice, moving through the packed red velvet-lined tables and through the throngs of warm bodies surrounding them.

My shoulder collided with a woman wearing a crimson overcoat, the impact causing her to lose her grip on her tray. Full drinks went soaring in the air before landing on patrons, who cursed as they furiously wiped at their drenched clothing. I was already at the kitchen’s entrance by the time the waitress scanned the room for the offender.

Cooks waved their hands in irritation as I rushed by their prep stations, and a few of the servers spared me curious glances—though none stopped me as I sprinted toward the door leading to the alley.

The brisk northern air struck my face with surprising force, the wind shoving my hood down and exposing my easily identifiable face. I yanked it back in place, thankful that not many people milled about. Most were hidden away inside the tents that lined the alley. I craned my neck, homing in on a green tent I had recently purchased. I’d bought it after the lad had agreed to my terms. Maybe I just hadn’t liked the sight of a young child shivering in the cold while others indulged in petty excess.

It was time to employ my backup plan.

Kiara would be clever enough to locate my whereabouts. She wouldn’t stop until she cornered me and had the pleasure of telling me off to my face. I had to hope she was on her way here if she wasn’t in the city already.

I pulled open the flap and dropped to a crouch.

As I expected, the little bastard instantly shot up from his restless sleep, a crooked knife held in his small hand, his green eyes bleary.

Good lad. He had decent survival skills.

“It’s time,” I barked. I tossed him the pouch at my waist. “When she comes, deliver the package.”

Before the child could argue, I was shooting halfway across the alley and slipping into the crowd. Not one precious second could be wasted.

The street urchin I found on my third day in Fortuna held my future in his hands— all of our futures. Along with the rest of my coin. I prayed I’d been right about him and that he’d come through instead of simply stealing my money.

I had to believe he would.

While his clothes were torn and threadbare, he possessed one thing of value: a shiny pendant of Raina. When I spotted him in the crowd, he tilted his chin and boldly met my stare. The unnatural heat I was becoming more familiar with had flowed through my veins in those precious moments we locked eyes. That was when I’d placed my life in the slippery hands of fate. It felt…right. Like the very heavens guided me.

With the boy in my thoughts, I headed toward the wagons preparing to leave the city. I had to get out of Fortuna and into the safety of the surrounding wood.

Merchants loaded up their wares, barking orders at their apprentices to hurry before the new day came. I eyed an open wagon transporting barrels of ale, a thick flap of blue linen tied over the sides to conceal the merchandise. There . That would be my way out, and once through the gates, I’d slip into the night.

While the owner was busy tending to his horse, I crawled below the tarp and beyond the containers of ale, careful not to rest my weight in one place. Any sound would give me away.

Shoving behind a barrel, I focused on keeping my breathing even.

The wagon took off five minutes later, and the tension tightening my shoulders lessened.

It was working; I was escaping Fortuna and on my way out of the city. My next plan would be to locate one of the sun priestesses of the past. Maybe they had information.

The cart jostled, the wooden wheels striking every nook in the cobblestone street. I leaned back, cramped and uncomfortable.

“Halt!”

I froze, every muscle rigid. We should’ve made it to the gates by now.

Boots struck the ground, and my throat constricted as they grew louder. They headed my way.

Rustling sounded. The tarp was whipped off.

“Well, look what we have here.”

Hands encircled my ankles, and I was dragged through the barrels, a cry trapped in my throat. Those same hands held me down, and before I could even lift my blade or see the face of my attackers, a steel-toed boot raised over my head.