2. Chapter One
Chapter One
Archer
The Cursed Bog reeked of blood, death, and despair. When I reached up to wipe at a crusty, itching patch on my cheek, my hand came away wet with mud and gore that wasn’t my own.
Everything in me ached with exhaustion, and my well of magic was all but depleted. Scanning the swamp that had become a battlefield, my earlier optimism melted into the ache of grief.
We’d won—but at what cost?
The cries of the wounded and dying stabbed me with guilt. I’d failed them. I was the one who’d rallied my regiment with cries of confidence and bravery. The one who’d promised them we would save Emberglade. The one who’d so wrongly believed this would be...easy.
“Your Highness.” The healer was an older fae with facial hair beginning to show its first streaks of grey among the black. In the chaos of the aftermath of battle, I’d never even caught his name. “We’re losing the wounded—and fast. We’ll have to move them to drier ground and burn them.”
Though the revenants couldn’t be wounded by fire once they rose from the dead, we’d found out that burning anyone who’d recently died prevented them from becoming a revenant. Unfortunately, beheading the bodies did not work, even though that was the only way to stop them in undead form.
My eyes flicked to the thick clouds gathering overhead, promising another bout of the wet season’s heavy rains.
“Archer!” Owen Stormveil, Captain of the Guard and one of my closest friends, cried across the battlefield from where he knelt beside another injured fae.
Lily Starblood, daughter of our Chief General, was nearby, her eyes red-rimmed from all the loss we’d already witnessed today. “We need a healer.”
I cursed as the male at my side rushed to their aid, and I trailed him.
When I reached the spot my friends were, I knelt beside the first soldier, who was lying in a pool of his own blood. The light was already fading from his eyes. My stomach twisted. It was too late for him.
I didn’t know the soldier’s name, but he turned to me in recognition, his voice cracking. “I have a wife and children, Your Highness. Could you…please see that they are safe. Cared for. Please?”
He sighed his final breath before I could respond, his gaze settling on some unknown point over my shoulder.
“We have to burn him,” Owen muttered, echoing what the healer had already warned me about.
Again, I cursed. Despair threatened to seize me in its claws, but I shook it off.
Later, I’d give myself a moment to grieve our losses, and then I’d pretend to drown the pain with more gold wine than an entire court could consume.
“Gather the supplies. See if there are any other able-bodied soldiers available to help move the bodies to drier land.”
My eyes settled on a nearby wounded female, preparing to go to her and comfort her with my magic. It was the least I could do.
Owen dipped his head, and he and Lily ran for help while the healer darted toward another wounded soldier. Apparently the healer had determined the two near me were lost causes.
Umbryon, God of Night, give me strength.
Standing, I focused on my well of magic. Exhaustion clung to me like a cloak, stifling and concerning. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to wield an ounce of magic, let alone stand. I’d collapse from overuse and sheer weariness.
I’d taken one step when motion out of the corner of my eye put me on alert.
A hand seized my ankle, yanking me nearly off my feet.
Catching my balance, I looked down to find that the deceased soldier was staring at me with soulless eyes, his teeth bared in a snarl.
Power nudged at me, strong and irresistible.
Without warning, shadows surrounded me and I was lifted into the air.
Their icy touch was so intense it felt like my skin was on fire, searing into my bones.
My stomach swooped; I kicked the air in vain.
Below, the dead soldier rose to his feet, his empty gaze locked on mine, more shadows writhing around him.
Though I’d fought an entire revenant army, something about seeing a fae I’d fought alongside while he’d been living, one I’d comforted in his final moments, now staring me down with an empty gaze was more unnerving.
Another shadow, forming tendrils like fingers, surrounded my throat and cut off my air.
More slammed into my chest and spots flickered in my vision.
My lungs burned. My hold on my magic failed.
There were no emotions to manipulate in a corpse, and without my voice, I couldn’t issue any orders, either.
When I tried to stretch my hand toward where my sword was sheathed at my side, my limbs froze, the same invisible power strangling me in the air also keeping me immobile.
Not for the first time, I reached for the earth, all but pleading with it to accept me. In other kingdoms, the rulers were gods-blessed to wield the most powerful elemental magic in the land. They were connected to their kingdoms in profound ways, and that tether was passed down their lineage.
But Father was a usurper king and a monstrosity, even to me, and though his subjects recognized his authority, the land had not. Clearly, it hadn’t accepted me as the next ruler either.
Sudden fear swept over me that this was how I’d meet my end.
Before, I’d managed to avoid being caught unawares, but now I couldn’t reach my sword hilt.
This revenant, newly awakened, seemed stronger than the others somehow.
Maybe whatever magic reanimated them was most powerful when they first rose.
I continued to kick and struggle as darkness clouded my world and my lungs started spasming uselessly.
Not. Like. This. My fingers strained against the unseen force, desperate to draw that sword.
If I could plunge the blade into the revenant, I could distract it enough to release me, and then I could decapitate it and end my soldier’s monstrous second existence.
But no. I couldn’t resist its magic by sheer force of will.
And then—shouts. Footsteps. A blade sang through the air, slicing the head clean off the revenant’s body.
Air poured down my throat, filling my lungs, and I collapsed to the earth in a muddy heap. The shadows dispersed as suddenly as they had formed. I nearly wept with joy as I breathed and stretched my limbs. Gathering my strength, I stood and faced Owen.
“Thank the gods I reached you in time,” he muttered. The revenant’s blood clung to his blade. I’d never been more relieved.
Half-choking on a laugh, I slapped him on the back. “I have a prophecy to fulfill and a kingdom to save. Clearly, they couldn’t spare me.”
Owen rolled his eyes, but his rare smile told me he was glad I was safe.
My expression turned solemn. “As soon as we finish destroying the bodies, we need to set up a perimeter of guards and send a messenger back to the king.” I wiped at my brow, glancing to where the storm clouds had thickened, blanketing the sky an ominous shade of grey. “He’s not going to be pleased.”
As soon as we entered the war room, General Starblood rose from his seat at the king’s right hand, his arms outstretched for his daughter.
The twitch of irritation on Father’s face was evident, but he indulged the general and remained silent as Lily left my side to throw herself into her own father’s arms.
“You’re safe,” the general murmured, heaving a sigh of obvious relief.
For a moment, I allowed myself to wallow in self-pity as my gaze drifted to King Wystan’s orange stare. His grey-sheened skin and horns were a stark reminder of his troll blood.
“Sit,” he ordered, his eyes darting to the others who’d been summoned here almost immediately upon our return to the castle.
Owen Stormveil, Captain of the Guard, and Grey Northwood, another faithful guard who was on my phoenix-hunting team.
I recognized a few of my father’s closest advisors, ones I’d long imagined were either empty-headed or secretly enchanted to always agree with my father and cater to his every whim.
I plopped down into a seat, adopting the irreverent smirk that I knew irked Father most. It wasn’t the right attitude after the losses we’d sustained, but it was the only ammunition in my arsenal against him in the moment, when I could already feel his simmering disapproval.
“I’m surprised my dear sister isn’t here.”
King Wystan snorted. “She didn’t find your little skirmish worth her time.”
She’s bored of the fighting and off dallying with one of her admirers.
If anyone else had thought this while meeting the king’s gaze, his mind magic would have read it easily, but being his own blood, I had natural immunity against his power.
Unfortunately, that meant he was also unaffected by my magic.
“And frankly,” Father went on, “it wasn’t worth anyone’s time.
I’ve already heard the initial reports. The casualties we took are an embarrassment.
You are an embarrassment. I indulge you with leading a regiment against the revenants, and this is what you do with the privilege? ” He slammed his hand on the table.
At my side, Owen stiffened. I didn’t miss the way he kept his eyes averted from the king. Across from us, General Starblood and Lily exchanged a glance.
Embarrassment. Not tragedy. Nothing on how we will assist the towns with their losses or notify the soldiers’ families.
“Crown Prince, and this is the leadership you show them?” Father spat.
I was still smiling stupidly, like I was immune to pain.
Like this was all a jest. He didn’t care about the casualties, not this monstrous male who’d slain his predecessor to claim power, snuffed out every resistance and rebellion against his rule, and now executed anyone whose thoughts displeased him.
He didn’t fear the growing revenant threat when Rainsong itself was protected by a magical barrier that only permitted those who were welcomed to pass through it.
“Unfortunately, Father,” I drawled, “fighting a battle is a lot harder when the dead won’t stay dead.”
“You think you’re witty and charming, a court favorite because a few females lust after you and you can manipulate everyone else’s emotions,” Father went on.
Apparently he wanted to thoroughly, publicly humiliate me.
“I gave you this chance to prove yourself and show some real mettle, but I think your sister is more vicious than you.” He scoffed and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “I should have sent her.”
I let my smile fall away, trying for earnestness. “She doesn’t care about the citizens and their fate. The losses we sustained and the destruction of Rivenfrond only prove—”
“They prove this was a foolhardy mission, and no one is to leave the borders of Rainsong for acts of ill-advised heroism again.”
I sat back, blinking.
“Your Majesty?” General Starblood interjected. “Are you certain you want to leave the rest of Emberglade unassisted?”
“If they’re not strong enough to survive this, the land and the gods must want them. Perhaps this is a way to purge us of the death-lovers and their sympathizers.”
Grey cleared his throat. “If I may be permitted, I thought we believed the phoenix shifters were creating the revenants by practicing necromancy? Because of the phoenix ability to bring themselves back to life? And the revenants’ immunity to flame?”
King Wystan drummed impatient fingers on the table.
“Yes, but if the revenants are forming organized armies and destroying whole towns, it’s only a matter of time before the death-loving phoenixes are wiped out with the rest. We can purge the capital and survive here.
It seems their desire to destroy Emberglade will only destroy them too. Let it.”
“What about the people?” Lily asked, speaking for the first time.
Her voice cracked; her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
She looked to her father, and I wondered for a moment if the king would meet her gaze and condemn her for whatever traitorous thoughts she was having when she clearly disagreed with his proclamation. My stomach twisted.
But Father looked back at me. “Refugees are welcome. But we aren’t sending anyone else out on suicide missions. All that does is feed their numbers by killing off our people. My decision is final.”
My ears rang as Father rose, dismissing us all.
We’re abandoning our people.