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Kiara

The Moon God was lonely in the heavens, overlooked by the sleeping humans he watched over. One gloomy win ter night, he decided to create faithful companions. These were the first shadow beasts, entities initially fashioned to chase away nightmares, rather than cause them. When he failed, and his wicked creations ravaged the world, Raina was forced to hunt them down.

Excerpt from Asidian Lore: a Tale of the Gods

The Rolling Dice was your typical Fortuna gambling den, full of drunkards, loose coin purses, and overflowing cups of ale.

Women and men wearing next to nothing paraded about the room, trays perched on their bare shoulders, the long, beaded belts at their hips dangling as they swayed to the beat of the live music playing onstage.

A gorgeous woman with deep golden skin and bright green eyes sang a lively tune that sounded both impossibly hopeful and melancholy. Coins were tossed onstage, and she blew the patrons a sly kiss, flicking her glittering dress as she moved expertly about the stage.

You’d have never suspected there’d been a brutal assault on the city early that morning.

Jake had taken my vision of Jude in stride. He’d listened to my every word, his face an emotionless mask. I supposed after everything we’d endured, it wasn’t the most bizarre thing to have happened. All he’d said after I finished was, “Give me a heads-up next time.” He’d yanked me into a half-hug, grumbling about my antics giving him an early heart attack.

We huddled close now as I surveyed the many exit points, should we need a quick escape. Beside one door across the room, a painting caught my eye. It depicted a clearing of vibrant green leaves and soft flowers.

“Ki?” Jake asked, turning my focus back to the mission. The painting reminded me of the glen in the Mist—one of the happiest moments of my young life. I’d get another day like that again, if it killed me. But still I frowned, noting that it hung slightly askew.

“Jude told us to find a boy in a green tent. He mentioned an alley and then this place.” I surveyed the bustling den with narrowed eyes. We hadn’t found an alley on either side of the building. Perhaps it was out back?

Beside me, Jake eyed the tables with a tangible hunger. I recalled his mention of luck with dice. Maybe he should play a round, seeing as our bellies were filled only with a burned loaf we’d unearthed in a trash pile behind a baker’s shop.

“Focus,” I said instead. “Want to try to see if there’s another exit?”

“Ki, I could earn so much here.” His eyes glowed. “Money for food. Lots of fucking food. Gods, I’d kill for a sandwich. I think better on a full stomach.”

“Obviously,” I teased. “But you need to focus. No more talk of sandwiches.” My own mind conjured melted cheese and fresh bread and meat. As if to prove a point, my stomach growled loudly.

Jake raised a brow. “Fine. We try the back. But I need food at some point.”

I nodded, agreeing. Satisfied, Jake willingly followed me past the round tables and cheering men and women. Servers sauntered by, their eyes all lined in heavy kohl, their smiles brilliant and inviting.

“Let’s go through the kitchens.” Jake nodded to a swinging door, a server having just left it with a platter of something divinely deep fried. “Usually the kitchens have a back door where the cooks take their breaks.”

When I shot him a questioning look, he added, “I worked in a kitchen for years back home. Nic , too.” He marched ahead, his shoulders tenser than before.

We had to wait a few minutes next to the door for it to clear. The second the opportunity presented itself, we slipped through the swinging door and into the kitchen.

Cooks shouted profanities as we passed, but none blocked our approach, too busy with the stacks of orders pinned above their heads.

“Through there,” Jake hissed, directing my attention to the back door. It was slightly ajar, frigid air seeping into the sweltering heat of the kitchens.

We shoved it open, and I grimaced when it immediately slammed shut behind us.

He’d been right. There was another alley behind the den. “Good thinking,” I told Jake, and he gave me a quick smile.

The narrow alley boasted a few tents, the unfortunate of Fortuna seeking relief from the chill any way they could. My heart ached, but I pressed on, peeking into each one as Jake dutifully scanned the area for signs of danger.

There was a family of four huddled inside one, the mother rocking her child to sleep, dried tear tracks marring her cheeks. Another tent contained three older children, an array of stolen food shoved into a pile between them.

My stomach churned. They deserved so much more than this.

Sometimes a simple offering of kindness was all it took to change a life. But kindness, like the sun, appeared absent in Asidia.

Begrudgingly, I tore away from the shelters we’d already checked and homed in on the smallest tent tucked away in the corner. As I grew close, I noted it to be a shade of pale green.

“The boy in the green tent…in the alley at The Rolling Dice,” Jude had said before the vision broke away.

This had to be it.

I crouched before the flaps. “Hello?”

When no reply came, I twisted to Jake, who simply shrugged and waved his hands before him as if to say, “ You go in first .” He was chivalrous in that way.

Undoing the ties, I ripped open the flaps, meeting a pair of vibrant hazel eyes.

A frail boy peered up at me from the back of the tent, a dulled kitchen knife clutched tightly in his hand. A meager fire burned in a chipped porcelain basin, bits of rubbish stacked beside it to keep it ablaze. It provided enough light to glimpse the fear he emanated.

Holding up placating hands, I said, “We’re not here to hurt you.”

His thick brows furrowed as if he hardly believed that. Good lad.

“A friend of ours told us where to find you.” I gave him my best attempt at a lighthearted smile, hoping it came across as friendly.

“Let me see your hair,” the boy demanded, swallowing thickly. He motioned for my hood with the crooked blade, slanting his chin defiantly.

I bit back my smile and heeded his request, allowing the cloak to fall. He was right to be distrustful. When my red hair swept across my shoulders, the boy visibly relaxed, an audible exhale whooshing from his mouth.

“He said your hair was the color of the warmest flame.” A feeble smile lifted his lips. “He didn’t lie.”

Jude. Always the poet. My heart panged in my chest, his name transporting me back to that putrid cell trapping him. No matter how furious I was, I couldn’t fight my own heart.

As much as I sometimes wanted to.

“Do you have something for us?” I asked through gritted teeth, my pulse hammering in anticipation.

My vision had been true , then.

Somehow, I’d found Jude, and I couldn’t wait to attempt it again, even if I hadn’t a clue how to summon such power—all I gathered was that our scars were involved. But the vision hadn’t revealed his location. Trap or not, uncovering this mysterious talisman below the Moon God’s temple could wait.

The child scrambled to reach behind him, tossing aside two thick blankets and retrieving a bundled package tied with a tattered leather string.

“He gave me this tent,” the boy said, nodding to his humble surroundings. “No one had ever given me anything.” His eyes fell to the package in his hands. “I didn’t open it. I wanted to, but…I couldn’t. The man had been too nice to deceive. And h-he told me the kingdom was at stake. That I would be its protector.” For the first time, innocence shone in his stare, and my chest squeezed, knowing this boy had been robbed of a true childhood.

Jude had shown this child a small kindness, and in return, he’d been gifted with his loyalty.

“Here,” he said, handing it over with trembling hands. “I protected it, just as he asked.” The proud tilt of his chin loosened some of the grief weighing in my stomach.

I took the package and gently undid the strings. Peeling back the rough paper, I caught a hint of shining onyx metal.

Jake sucked in an audible breath behind me. The Godslayer.

Jude had been smart enough to keep the Godslayer somewhere safe and off his person should he be captured. He’d taken a huge risk leaving it with this child, but I admired his faith.

“Thank you for guarding it.” I smiled, dipping my head in gratitude. “You have no clue what you’ve done to help us…”

“Grey,” he finished for me. “My name is Grey.”

“Well, Grey, if I had coin, I’d surely give it to you. But I can only offer this right now.” Digging into my pocket, I retrieved the pin Jude had left me back in the Mist. The emblem of the Knights of the Eternal Star.

The gold of the sun gleamed in the weak light of the boy’s fire, and his mouth fell open when he took in the blade piercing the shimmering orb.

“Kiara, are you sure?” Jake inquired at my side, kneeling into a crouch.

I nodded. Jude had given me this pin as a goodbye. A goodbye I had never accepted. Besides, his heart didn’t lie with the Knights. It never had.

“This belongs to a man who will one day save our kingdom,” I said, brushing my thumb over the metal. “He’d want you to have it, Grey.” I held out the offering.

Grey slowly reached for it, his chest rising rapidly, his hazel eyes aglow with wonder. “Was it him? The man who asked for my help?”

“It was.”

He closed his dirt-streaked fingers around the token before clutching it to his chest as though it were the greatest gift he’d been given.

“And he chose you to guard Asidia’s hope for a reason.” Grey lifted his eyes from the emblem, meeting mine. “When the day finally returns, remember that you had a part in that.”

Before I let the flap close, I saw Grey bring the pin to his face, and for the first time since laying eyes on him, a genuine smile danced on his lips. With all the care in the world, he tucked his new treasure into his breast pocket, right above his heart.

But that wasn’t all I saw.

Sitting beside him, right next to a pile of papers to be used for kindling, was a matchbook. A red matchbook with a claw and ale symbol embossed in gold.

I didn’t believe in coincidences.

Reaching into my own pocket, I retrieved the matchbook I’d found in Starlight’s stable and held it before me.

I turned to my friend. “Are you in the mood for an ale, Jake?”

…

The Sly Fox wasn’t nearly as thriving as the other day, which worked well for us.

Vibrant red - and - orange tapestries woven in intricate designs were hung haphazardly about the space. Paintings and sculptures of the bar’s namesake were displayed with pride, and metal foxes jutted out from the walls, their silver claws supporting several torches.

“I would’ve sold the dagger if I were Grey’s age,” Jake murmured as we entered the tavern. A young , dark-haired man strummed a blue guitar in the corner, singing some old folk song while a couple danced clumsily in each other’s arms on the floor.

“Good thing it wasn’t you , then,” I remarked shrewdly. “You’d have sold the Godslayer for a sandwich.”

He groaned. “Why the hells did you have to bring up a sandwich? You’re killing me, Ki.”

Again, my stomach decided to growl like a beast.

Ignoring the hunger pains, I marched over to the counter and popped into an empty seat, Jake filling the one beside me.

“Two ales and whatever your cook is serving,” I ordered the barkeep, a burly man who appeared as if he hadn’t smiled a day in his life. He grunted before ambling off.

“Hopefully the owner we’re likely looking for doesn’t mind that we don’t have coin to pay for those ales,” Jake whispered, resting both elbows on the wooden bar. He grimaced when the fabric of his shirt met the stickiness, and he returned his arms to his sides, subtly wiping at the cloth. It was fruitless, seeing as his shirt was already beyond repair.

“You need to work on your whispering.” I sighed. “And yes, if anyone knows of Jude’s presence, it would be the owner. This place…it was the only bar that wasn’t hit during the attack. I think whoever owns it holds some power.”

I did a quick scan of the room. A steely-faced man with a shaved head stood before a red door off to the side of the bar, his eyes aimed our way. One thick brow raised when our eyes locked. I hastily looked away.

Not more than a minute inside, and already we’d failed at stealth.

I tried to convince myself that his interest was simply because of my enchanting and alluring presence, but I knew I resembled weeks - old waste. I desperately required a bath, and I couldn’t even feign confidence in my present state.

“What? If anything, they’re looking at you.” Jake poked at the tip of my drawn hood. “You’re practically screaming, ‘I’m here on a secret mission.’”

I grumbled as I lowered my hood. Maybe it was for the best.

My fingers danced nervously across the bar’s surface, my nails catching every now and again on the jagged carvings patrons had left behind. Some were crude in nature, others a pair of initials surrounded by off-centered hearts.

My fingers stilled as a thought flitted through my mind.

I stood from my seat, ignoring Jake whisper-hissing my name. People had carved their marks into the wood. There had to be hundreds.

“What are you doing?” Jake tried his best to grab my arm, but I slipped farther down the bar.

If Jude had been here, if he left that matchbook as a clue, then something told me I’d find another surprise. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but—

At the end of the bar, nearly hidden by shadows, I saw the hint of a crescent moon. Moving closer, my eyes widened as I took in the crude “J” and “M” carved right below the moon.

Wandering back to Jake, I took a seat. “He was here,” I said. “I saw his initials. And a moon.” Jake curved his body to where I’d been, but he was too far away. “Believe me. I’d recognize his handwriting anywhere.”

I knew it was his because I’d kept his letter of warning from the Mist. The same long J , the same curving M .

Before he could say anything, the guitarist from earlier finished his piece. The tavern was suddenly too quiet.

Ambling to the bar, the scrawny musician took a seat and held up a finger for the bartender, dark curls falling into his even darker eyes.

His clothes were colorful, like most in the city, though he’d paired his patterned yellow shirt with a red silk cravat that had to be worth a large sum. That, and his right index finger flashed with a brilliant ruby ring.

Based on his profession, I had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t obtained the cravat or the ring through legal means.

“Better not skimp out on me, old man!” he yelled, and the bartender extended his middle finger in reply.

“Cheapskates,” the musician grumbled.

Another idea popped up , and I nudged Jake in the ribs, staring pointedly at the musician.

“Gods, Ki,” Jake groused. “Why’d you do that?”

“I bet a musician would know an outsider if he saw one.”

“So…?” Jake’s brows pinched together.

I motioned with my eyes to his left, to where the musician sat, and shot Jake a seething look. Come on, Jake. Use that annoying charm for good.

“Wha— Ah .” Jake’s entire face lit up. He cleared his throat, and a wicked smile slowly curled his lips. Jake swiveled in his chair.

He transformed into a different man before my eyes; his posture relaxed, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. Jake raked a hand through his tangled hair, his attention homing in on his target.

“Excuse me, so sorry to bother you.” The musician stilled, eyeing Jake with a hint of interest, his eyes brightening.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you when you played,” Jake cooed, and I watched in wonder as the musician mirrored his grin. “You’re too handsome to be playing here…”

The man’s cheeks pinked. “Cam,” he answered Jake’s unspoken question. “And is that so?”

“Oh, yes.” Jake sat forward. “Talented and handsome? You’re every person’s dream. I’m Jakob, by the way. One of the people who couldn’t resist you . ”

Jake’s given name sounded off when he spoke it aloud.

The man waved his hand in the air, his blush growing a deeper shade. “I’m far from decent. You’re being too kind.”

“Oh, I’m hardly ever kind . ” Jake smirked, and even I felt the effect of its potency. “You just brought it out in me.”

I slanted back in my seat, shaking my head. I let Jake work his magic on Cam, the pair exchanging heated looks whenever I peered over.

When the bartender came back with our order—ale and some sort of soup; again, items we couldn’t pay for—I enjoyed the show of Jake charming the artist within an inch of his life.

Five minutes later, he let out a boisterous laugh, and they knocked shoulders like they’d known each other all their lives. And through it all, the man’s cheeks held that deep red hue, obviously enchanted by whatever Jake murmured into his ear.

By the time I finished my soup, my belly full and warm, Jake brought up the tavern, starting by asking about the owner and how he’d come to play here. A decent place to start. Cam shot a quick glance at the red door before returning to Jake.

“The owner likes me,” Cam replied with a sly wink.

“And how could he not?” Jake beamed, light reaching his eyes in a way that stole even my breath. Not that I’d admit it to him. Gods damn him and his charm. If I’d have known he was this good, we might’ve used his skills earlier.

“ She ,” the musician corrected. “And she’s not easy to please, although you’d certainly want to.”

Was she the one Jude had visited? First, the matchbook, and then Jude’s initials…

“I do love some gossip,” Jake said in a whisper, leaning in conspiratorially. “Who is this mysterious owner?”

The musician glanced around the room before answering. “The Fox is Asidia’s greatest thief. She can steal anything . You have enough coin, and she can get it done.” Cam snapped his fingers. “The woman is legendary in these parts. No one messes with her.”

Hmm. I’d heard of a few famous criminals in Asidia.

There was Tommy “Two Face”—the infamous master of disguise who robbed half the south. The Crimson Blade, a northern warrior turned mercenary who killed for coin. And the always entertaining Annibel “Sweetheart” Fields, a woman who killed off every man who had the misfortune to call her sweetheart. Their wanted posters had been plastered in the town square of Cila, but my focus had been on weapons and training. Besides, I’d never imagined I’d seek one of them out.

“Damn.” Jake took a sip from his “borrowed” ale. “The Fox sounds incredible. I’d like to meet her.”

“Oh, you will.”

The voice didn’t belong to Cam, whose face turned a sickly shade of white, his eyes peering over Jake’s head.

Jake and I turned at the same moment.

The man who’d guarded the red door stood before us, his brawny arms crossed. Tattoos swirled up and down his impressive forearms, creatures and monsters and celestial symbols alike. I noted that a fox mid-pounce took up the most room on his right arm.

Slowly, I brought my attention to warm brown eyes that were at odds with his intimidating veneer.

“Looks like you’ll get your wish,” he said with a cruel smile. “Mistress wants to see you. Now.”