Chapter 1
The Fleshripper
They'd found her.
Panic, as sharp as a burning blade, dug into my chest. I crashed through the heavy door of the lord’s chambers. Lamps were lit along the corridor. The flickers of blue and green flames collided with the pale stone walls of the keep at the House of Bones.
Servants shouted. Shutters over the arched windows slammed shut. I bellowed orders to seal the doors and passageways below the keep. Others raced to the narrow canals and rivers that carved across our shores.
A boom rattled every pane of glass and drew me to a halt in front of one window still left open.
“Damn the gods of the tides.” Beyond the shores was the Ever Ship.
It was monstrous and glorious. Black laths made of bone and wood, crimson sails with the seal of the House of Kings, and jagged, sharp spines for every Ever King in the bloodline since the gods churned the seas of the Ever.
I’d learned to sail on that ship.
I’d learned to be ruthless, to be devoted to my king and land.
Now it came for my blood.
Ember spears fired another blast of flame and heat. The heavy cinder stones pummeled the gates of the shore.
There was no more time.
With a firm grip, I tugged one of the kitchen stewards—an elder to me but a man who followed my every word with fealty—and drew him close. “Prepare a skiff on the black tides.”
“M-m-my Lord, no.” His voice was breathless, desperate.
“Do not question me, Pucey.” Teeth bared, I gripped the back of his neck. “We fall tonight; accept it. Make ready for me to sail. Not a word of our whereabouts or I’ll find you. I’ll shred every layer of flesh from your bones.”
For a moment there was a flash of annoyance in his eyes. Pucey Eyeeater had served the House of Bones for as long as I could recall. To be accused of disloyalty would set a flame to his blood.
He shirked my grip. “Consider it done, My Lord.”
Without another word, without a chance he might catch a glimpse of the agony spreading through my chest, I barreled through a doorway, taking the steps to the upper rooms two at a time.
At the end of the corridor was a narrow door; painted images of sea vines and fatted whales lined the edges. On the first try, the door didn’t budge.
Wise boy.
I pounded a fist on the door. “Son, open the door. Hurry!”
I heard the scuffle of small boots across the floorboards. Next, a frantic jiggle to the lock. Finally, the door swung open. My heart cracked.
Thick tears coated Gavyn’s brown cheeks. His dark hair belonged to his mother and fell in messy waves around the sharp points of his ears. No mistake, he’d been fitful in here, knowing it could all go wrong, likely blaming himself.
Even at nine turns, the boy knew the dangers of his voice. He knew what would become of us if the truth of our lies were ever found out.
“Daj.” His voice cracked.
To Harald, to the dead Ever King, house lords were to shape their heirs with a firm hand, brutality, and indifference.
I never fit in with the house lords.
I could not look on my son with disregard or without affection. The moment my mate told me he would come, I spent nights pressed against her warm skin, whispering all the tales of the Ever Seas he would ever learn.
That had never changed.
Time was short, but I could pause for a breath and wrap my boy in my damn arms.
I crushed Gavyn to my chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his messy hair. “We’ve known this day could come. It’s time to go.”
Gavyn nodded. “Blood…Bloodsinger won’t rat us out, Daj. Maybe he…can help.”
I shook my head. “Not with this, Son. Not with this. He’s too young. Harald holds too much power and listens too much to the powers of dark fae.”
The most dangerous soul in the Ever had discovered our secret not more than three turns before.
At first, I thought our boy king might rush to his cruel uncle and give us up. I’d braced for this day to come long ago, but Erik Bloodsinger—a turn younger than my own son—had never uttered a word.
Truth be told, he made certain Gavyn could disappear to visit his maj in peace, always offering reasons the heir to the House of Bones was not at his father’s side during meets at the palace.
Harald was never meant to learn that Yulla, my lover, my mate, was still alive. After all, I was supposed to have slaughtered her four turns ago.
King Thorvald had forced his son to do the same to his own mate.
I hoped the dead Ever King was rotting in the seas of the Otherworld for what he had done to Bloodsinger’s soul that day.
In truth, I’d wondered if Thorvald had broken his boy to the point that Erik would be as vicious and cruel as his sire. His silence on my treason was proof enough the boy king had a great deal more of his mother than his father filling his blood.
Another boom shuddered through the walls of the keep. With a tug, I urged Gavyn from his room. “Stay close to me. We’re going to the grotto, then to the far seas. Understand? We don’t return here.”
Gavyn’s chin quivered. “I understand, Daj. I…I don’t care, if Maj and Cel are safe.”
I patted his cheek gently, offered what I hoped was a soft enough smile, then hurried with my son to the back of the keep. As we went, a few servants dipped their chins, tearful and resigned to the fate of the House of Bones.
They were loyal from the moment I did not bend to Thorvald’s command. Most suspected Yulla was alive and hidden.
None knew of the daughter of the House of Bones. Trust my folk as I did, I would never give up Celine. She would be killed swifter than her mother if Harald ever knew.
Truth be told, Gavyn had never even said anything to Bloodsinger. The boy king knew my son’s mother was alive, but not that he had a sister.
Outside, the moon hung low in the velvet sky.
The House of Bones was wet with heavy mists that tangled around ferns and streams and honey blossoms.
“My Lord.” Pucey, hooded and crouched, emerged from a thick shrub, gesturing for us to follow. “It be ready.”
I handed Gavyn into the small skiff tethered to a post on the bank of the Black Tide River. It would take us to the open waters where our grotto was hidden near the shores of the House of Mists.
Lady Narza held no love for Thorvald, not after what he had done to her daughter—the king’s mother. As the lady over the sea witches in the House of Mists, I had to hope if she learned the truth of what I’d done, she would say nothing.
Yulla was a siren from the House of Mists. Surely there was loyalty there.
If Narza knew I’d hidden half my family near her shores, the Lady of Witches had never said.
While Gavyn settled on the bench of the small vessel, I turned to Pucey and whispered, “You know what to do if it goes wrong.”
Pucey swallowed. “Aye, My Lord. They’ll know nothing of him. We’ll guide him to follow your steps. Swear to you.”
I gave a swift nod. If plans were foiled, I promised Yulla our littles would live to the sunrise. I would do all I could to save them both. But Gavyn was the only one who had the ability to truly disappear.
Pucey held out one arm. I hesitated, then slowly clasped his forearm.
My steward dipped his chin. “I am honored to be part of the House of Bones and to serve you, My Lord. No matter if we never meet again, it has been my honor.”
My throat tightened. I nodded, then stepped into the skiff.
Gavyn kept close to my side, eyes toward the darkness of the horizon. With a final glance over my shoulder, I watched the fiery blasts of the Ever Ship ignite the keep in brilliant gold and red.
A glance at my home, my folk, my place in the Ever. I knew it would be my last.