Luna’s happy bark returned Aza to the present. Not far off, her brother held a bottle of wine out of Hoku’s reach while she chased him around the grassy square, with Luna playfully nipping at his heels. The Maldibor children pointed and giggled from a nearby fire, just as she and Makeo might have done years ago.
After two weeks of tending the wounded and mourning their losses in the battle of Carceroc, the Heirs and the Maldibor tribe were finally ready to celebrate the lives that still went on—celebrate survival and hope and perhaps even the death of a monster… or two. Still, the cheerful anticipation of the dark moon was quieter than in days past. On the village edge, hulking Maldibor sentries diligently searched the night where they’d once celebrated freely, even in a forest of monsters.
Aza returned her gaze to the crinkled letter in her hands. A note from the Faveno shields still guarding the west, where the Rastgol had suddenly retreated for now… probably with Conrad and Ivanora safely in their midst. Aza rested her chin on her fist with a sigh. There was still so much to do. As soon as Makeo was well, they would have to go after Ivanora and Conrad. They had to be stopped before they raised Idriel from the dead—however they were managing that. The Heirs would probably have to visit Dorinar’s library again to figure it out. Not to mention the bloodthirsty creatures of Carceroc now roaming freely across Okarria…
Makeo stirred in front of her, and she smiled. But those problems would have to wait. Now was the time to rest and regroup. Hard-won time. But time nonetheless.
Groaning, Makeo sat up, bandages wrapping both of his arms and his chest. “How long was I out this time?” he grumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
“A little more than a day.”
“You have to tell your mother to stop giving me that pain tonic; it makes me sleep too much.”
“That’s what it’s supposed to do, so you give yourself time to heal.” She nudged a plate of food toward him. “And your uncle brought this for you too.”
Makeo cocked his head to the commotion outside, his words lined with longing. “It’s a dark moon night, isn’t it?”
Aza’s mouth curved up, and she offered him her arm. “Would you like to go out?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “How are you going to help me when you’re still injured yourself?”
“It’s better than it was.” She stretched her arms experimentally, and her invisible wounds protested with a stiffening ache. “And besides, my injuries are just in my head.”
“The things in your head are still real, Aza.”
Her smile widened. “You don’t even want to know what’s going on in my head, Keo.”
“Maybe not.” He accepted her hand with a chuckle and put his bandaged arm around her shoulder, leaning against her as little as he could. “But sometimes, I like guessing all the same.”
She opened the cabin door into the mild summer night. Families clustered around fires in the grassy square, their necks craned to the stars as they waited for midnight. Though more subdued than usual, smiles, food, and wine flowed aplenty.
Aza led Makeo in a wide circle around the fires, smiling and nodding to friends and family. Her mother’s gaze landed on them, her brown eyes flicking from Aza to Makeo, and she nodded at Aza with a knowing smile. Even though there were still monsters in the night and Idriel’s Children at work, together they savored this sweet moment of peace—the lull in the storm.
They looked on from the edge of the square as her parents, Zephyr, Tekoa, Shadmundar, and Hoku all sat together, sharing plates of smoked meat and honey cakes. And if Aza looked hard enough, she thought she could even make out the silvery shape of Witt’s smile glimmering beside Zephyr, his own plate heaped high with food. She stilled at the sight, her heart skipping a beat and a wistful smile crossing her face. Then, with a wink, he dissolved into the smoke of the fire, and his place was empty once more.
“About that bet…” Makeo started, gesturing away from the square.
Aza raised a brow at him, her heart beating again, now with a bittersweet ache. “What about it?”
“I believe your plan went very much without a hitch, don’t you think?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.
She pursed her lips to hide the grin. “Sure, Keo, I totally meant for Carceroc to break open and to let the necromancer get away.”
He nodded in mock seriousness. “I thought so. And as you know, I’m a Maldibor of my word.”
Aza didn’t dare herself to speak as he led her to a low building smelling of hay and beast.
“Not to mention, when Windtorn’s mate foaled last spring, I may have asked my uncle to let me place the fawn.”
“No, you didn’t,” Aza whispered.
Makeo led her to a stall with a bright-eyed Dalteek, its coat a blue-black of the midnight sky and a fluffy mane of creamy wheat encircling its neck.
“What do you think of her?” Makeo murmured, reaching out to pet the Dalteek’s soft nose.
“I… I… don’t know if I can accept this.” Aza ran her fingers through the thick lion-like mane, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around the creature.
“Of course, you can,” Makeo snorted. “Because we all know there were all kinds of hitches in your plan, so that makes us friends again, which means it would be downright rude not to accept my gift of your heart’s desire.”
Aza smothered a laugh. “Okay, I suppose.” She shrugged, feigning reluctance. “If I must… but what’s her name?”
“Starsong.”
Outside, the Maldibor counted the seconds to midnight with raucous abandon.
“Starsong.” As Aza whispered her name, a bell tolled in the square, and Makeo began to change beside her. Fur, tail, and ears all receded, leaving the shaggy-haired boy she’d known all her life. This time though, his loose bandages sagged to reveal the many additions to the old scar down his chest.
He smiled down at her with soft eyes, his happiness melding with hers as a fiddle began to play with an enthusiastic cheer outside.
Aza looked away. “There is one problem though.”
“Oh?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“I don’t think we can be friends.”
His shoulders sagged just a touch. “…Oh well I…”
Aza crossed the charged air between them, pressing her mouth to his quickly and without hesitation, his lips soft and warm against hers. An echo of the kiss she’d been thinking about for the last three years.
She pulled back, her fingers lacing with his. His eyes widened, his long golden eyelashes blinking with surprise.
“I don’t care about your curse or mine. I just want us. I want to be there for you… to make up for all the times I wasn’t.” She edged closer, her chest nearly touching his as she looked up into his emerald eyes. She pressed his hand to her cheek with a smirk. “Besides, I don’t have friends.”
Still, he said nothing, and she let her gaze drop to the floor, doubt fluttering in her stomach. “Is… that all right?”
His confusion melted into the widest smile she’d ever seen, his eyes gleaming. He bent his head and kissed her long and hard, his bandaged arm pulling her at the waist. Her lips caught fire under his searching kiss, her body molding to his and her mind emptying of everything but him. Only Keo.
With a sigh, he finally pulled away, still smiling, his forehead leaning against hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” He paused, a flicker of worry wrinkling his bliss. “I thought after I changed…”
She silenced him with another kiss, this one slow and tender. Flushed and breathless, she squeezed his hand. “I never once cared about that. I want to be with you, Keo. For one day in twenty, or one in a hundred. You’re worth any curse.”
His smile widened again, setting Aza’s heart aflame, the cold shadows in her melting away into a warmth that filled her from her fingers to her hair. She had never really been heartless. Makeo had just been keeping it for her all along. He pressed his lips to her forehead and then to her cheek, the
jubilant fiddle slowing to a soft croon.
“Dance with me then?” he breathed into her ear.
“With you?” She nodded. “Always.”
Epilogue
“Years of work and patience.” Conrad paced his marble floors, hands flying about in a rage. “And now Mogens is dead, and the Heirs are still alive.” He picked up a vase and hurled it against a portrait on the wall in an explosion of ceramic and glass shards. “How did she even kill him? I thought his body was supposed to be eternal.”
“Calm down,” Ivanora purred, reclining on the nearby lounge. “He made a mistake, facing her on the Shadow Plane, and lost more than just his body. It was disappointing that Mogens couldn’t kill the girl, but if he couldn’t fulfill his purpose, then what do we need him for? The cyclogres collected the Dolobra’s corpse, and I have everything I need for the next piece of the puzzle.”
“But the bloody Heirs will ruin everything.”
“Patience, dearest. Do you not understand the gifts Idriel has bestowed upon us? Once, it took persuasion and charm to turn the people against the Heirs. Now with your growing control, and my unparalleled wealth of yanaa, we can do it by force.” She smiled her sweet, saccharine grin. “And do you think the Heirs will really have the heart to turn on their own people? Between that and the man-killers, we have more than the army we need to keep the Heirs busy.”
Conrad took a deep breath, the rage fading from his countenance. “And you’re sure you have all you need to call Idriel from the grave?” His lips twisted under his wispy mustache. “I don’t know if I can resurrect something in another’s body.”
Ivanora chuckled dryly. “Of course, you can. It’s all clearly explained in Dorinar’s texts, Idriel bless him.”
Conrad frowned. “But that’s all theoretical.”
“Come now, darling.” She rose from her repose and leaned toward Conrad. “Did you learn nothing from the Wraith-Called? All it takes is time, practice, and the right materials. You’ve only just begun to tap into the talents Idriel has gifted you.” She ran a finger along the side of his angular face and pointed to the stack of Dorinar’s books. “But with my guidance, together we will rise to heights you never knew we could reach.”
“Will it still be strong enough after they took its head off?”
“Fixable.” Ivanora sniffed with a dismissive wave. “Even stitched together, it is the most powerful beast in this world. The Dolobra will host Idriel.” Her smile turned feral. “And we will wipe Okarria clean.”
Author’s Note
Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed Idriel’s Children. If you have time to leave a review on Amazon or your favorite book site, I would be so grateful to any words you’d be willing to leave. Even just a line or two can make a huge difference. Reviews are vital for any author, but as an indie author especially, encouragement from readers like you keeps me going and gives these stories wings.
If you’re interested in reading more, you can find updates on the sequel, Time’s Orphan, as well as my other works on my website at hayleyreesechow.com. You can also connect with me on Twitter or Instagram @HayleyReeseChow.
Acknowledgments
When I first published Odriel’s Heirs, I told my husband if even one person liked it, I would write the sequel… and even then I wasn’t sure it would actually happen. Honestly without encouragement from my family, my writing village, and readers, this book would have forever stayed only a daydream. So, as always, I’m so grateful to any and everyone who’s taken the time to read or just passed on a kind word.
More specifically, thanks to my husband, Adam, for always being there to encourage and support me... even after I killed his favorite character. For what it’s worth, Witt will always live on in our hearts.
To my wild boys, Decker & Dashiell, for always offering a smile and a hug… and for going to bed on time tonight so I could write this.
To my parents, two of the biggest supporters of my books who have imparted the tenacity and resilience that have made my writing journey possible.
To my editor, Martha, for her incredible attention to detail and grammar knowledge that keeps me learning.
To my cover designer, Dominique, for bringing my characters to life.
To my beta readers for taking the time to read my words—your support lifts me up. Special shout-out to Caleb, who knows way more about story-telling than I ever will. I can’t wait to see your book on the shelf one day! And another big shout-out to Kayleigh for her endless well of positivity.
And to all the others who have given their kind encouragement—thank you so much. Trust me when I say, your words have given me the confidence to make this book a reality.
About the Author
Hayley Reese Chow has done of lot of things that have nothing at all to do with writing. Her hat collection includes mother, wife, engineer, USAF veteran, reservist, four-time All American fencer, 100 mile ultramarathoner, world traveler, book inhaler, and super nerd.
Hayley is also the author of Odriel’s Heirs, The Gatekeeper of Pericael, and Burning Shadows. She currently lives in Florida with two small wild boys, her long-suffering husband, and her miniature ragehound.
But in the night, when the house is still, she writes.
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