Arrival of the Rifted (The Rifted Series Book 1)

by C. C. York

  I highly recommend listening to the 88 Cups of Tea Podcast, particularly the interview with Molly O’Neill if you are on the early steps of querying to an agent. I am extremely grateful for having stumbled into the Atlanta Writer’s Convention, and highly recommend participating. Kyra Nelson (aka Captain Query Hook) and the conference director, George Weinstein, are immensely helpful.

  If you decide to self-publish, check out The Self-Publishing Show podcast and Six Figure Authors, and know that you are in good company.

  If you are still in the middle of writing or early on in the story, check out The Writer’s Toolbelt and the folks at StoryGrid, as well as Neil Gaiman’s Masterclass series. And get on Twitter. Even as I write this in 2021 it feels a bit antiquated for social media, but the #writingcommunity is vibrant, supportive, and incredibly helpful. Drop me a line @ccyork_writes on Twitter or @ccyork.writes on Instagram and let me know what you’re working on. The first like is much more meaningful than the 10,000th.

  To Sarah J. Maas, thank you for writing stories that I always want to come back to, even after I have read them several times over. To Victoria Aveyard, thank you for being funny and open on your social media, and for making the author-life a bit more relatable. And finally, thank you Leigh Bardugo for showing us all what a badass looks like in this business.

  Want More?

  For a free novella that introduces one of the next characters in the second book of The Rifted Series, please sign up for my newsletter at www.ccyorkbooks.com

  In the meantime, please enjoy this sneak peek of Stories from Sakalid!

  *****

  Kinsi Korsan held the cards loose in his right hand while his other palmed the dagger hidden under the rickety table. The two barrel-chested men looming to his right watched in silence as their captain idly ran her fingers over the edge of her leather corset in the seat directly across from him.

  She rapped a coffin-shaped nail on the table for the dicethrower to toss the seven-sided dice once more. The gaunt man with sweat-slicked back hair rattled the die between them as she spoke.

  "I've always been the curious sort, working out details of how people came to be where they are--" she shifted so that the dried coral braided in her black hair pooled over the swell of her breasts.

  Kinsi snorted. The likelihood of this Perisien pirate being curious beyond more than coin and favors was as slim as his chances of winning this hand of Bones. But he learned that letting others talk often gave him what he needed more than any of his own words could.

  She continued, "--and who they are."

  And there it is. Kinsi leaned back in his chair, his black tunic pulling across his chest as he folded his arms. The two bodyguards with her stiffened at the movement, but their captain never lifted her chalk-rimmed eyes from the cards in front of her.

  Kinsi rapped for another toss of the die, waiting to see how the next few moments would play out.

  When she spoke again, her voice toyed over her words. "Tell me stranger, how is it that a Prince of Dvari came to wallow down here in a dice pit?"

  "I haven't been a Prince of Dvari for fifteen years now. And I like the ale."

  The bodyguards chuckled. No one liked the ale in the Bones.

  The dark wood floorboards creaked as the last remaining patron left through the curtained doorway leading to the bowels of Dvari. The bartender wiped down tables in the corner, pretending she was not listening to each word exchanged.

  "Of course. But when the Efendian Queen beheaded your grandfather--"

  "Watch it."

  She tsked. Her accent, picked up among thieves from all over Sakalid, paused over every few words while the rest rushed in. "I'm merely stating facts, not trying to drudge up bad memories."

  "Facts is it?" Kinsi leaned forward over the table, jaw tense as the captain continued.

  "Facts. Like take Tika here," She said, nodding to the guard closest to Kinsi. "I found him dangling over the edge of a ship, pleading with his last crew to pull him back in. Fact is, you can't swim can you, Tika?"

  The bodyguard with a sun-bleached tattoo over the right side of his face shook his head, "Nope."

  "See, how is it a man that lives his life at sea can't swim? That's a story I wanted to hear. So, I fished him out. And the fact is, he doesn't like to get wet."

  "Can't stand it," Tika affirmed.

  She let her eyes rove over Kinsi, pausing once at his full lips. "So I'd like to know how someone as pretty as you tries his hands at a game he cannot win when there are other, more lucrative, and dare I say more enjoyable, ways to make some coin as a former Prince. Surely the Efendian vassal keeps you in nice things?"

  The weight in Kinsi's pocket grew heavy, a physical reminder of how desperate he'd become.

  "Do you intend to stall more or are you ready to make our bets?"

  "Why the hurry? You've sailed this world a time or two. Surely you know a woman should be warmed up first before diving in."

  The dicethrower's eyes volleyed between the pair before lingering on the striking woman smirking at Kinsi.

  I'll have to kill him before this night is over, Kinsi thought. Part of him acknowledged how fucked up his life had become that he would mull over that fact without pause.

  And perhaps, he thought, this necklace could stay in my pocket instead of on the rat bones scattered on the table.

  Bartering his body for the things he needed most happened more than he'd care to admit, and if the whispers were correct, the item in this pirate's ship was worth every scrap of self-respect he still clutched.

  Kinsi smiled, knowing the dimple his friends ridiculed him about would show. "Very well. What would you like to learn about me?"

  All mirth fled from her eyes. "A good number of things, but we can start with why you're slumming down here and not in the court of that fat bitch. Tell me, does she still wear your mother's jewels?

  It took a moment for the dicethrower to drop his stupid smile. Whispers could be more lucrative than coin in Dvari, and that bitch paid well for the tongues of those damning whisperers.

  Kinsi glanced at the man likely calculating this conversation's worth. "It's impolite to speak ill of a country's leader when you are standing on their sand."

  She snorted, "We're a long way from sand, aren't we?"

  The actual scrap of land Dvari claimed rested beneath the halls Kinsi once ran as a child. The rest of his country spilled several times over into the sea, built on wooden planks his grandfather pilfered from their once abundant fleet of ships. The planks stretched across their archipelago, making way for more Dvarians and lost souls stuck crossing the Turkaz Sea. That bandage now bound an overrun and starving population to this miserable scrap of land, and his grandfather's embarrassing err of judgment marred how Kinsi remembered his once-proud king.

  He fisted his hand at his side. Even his bones willed him to take action. I'll settle that debt soon.

  Kinsi said nothing as the bodyguards peeled away from their captain and approached the bar. The captain pulled a tiny tin from somewhere in her leathers and applied its purple salve to her lips with a finger littered with tattoos and rings.

  She tossed a coin to the gawking man still sitting between them. "I think we can toss our own die now." She crooned over her shoulder as he slunk away, "But don't go far, yeah? I like an audience."

  The captain turned back to Kinsi. The sultriness she flaunted for the last hour dissipated and a weariness settled over her statuesque frame like a heavy cloak in its wake.

  "This corset makes my tits ache, and I could use a good night's sleep with someone that doesn't want to slit my throat so let's cut to it, yeah?"

  He blew out a relieved breath. "Please."

  "Oh, but I do like it when you say please. Perhaps we can do that again?"

  "I thought you were done playing games?"

  Her smile returned as she barked a deep, genuine laugh. "Hard habit to break I suppose. And you truly are pretty.
Particularly when you look like you want to strangle something."

  "Have we met before?"

  "No, but that means little in a country like Dvari where whispers travel faster than the tides, yeah?"

  Kinsi gestured to the dank walls and the broken glass around them. "And what whispers brought you to this beauty?"

  "That a former prince is planning an uprising against the most powerful ruler this world has seen in centuries."

  Kinsi barked his laugh now. "You make it sound as if I'm preparing for battle. I'm merely keeping my country afloat."

  Lies.

  The captain leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest, but didn’t push. "I believe I have something that could be of use to you."

  Kinsi fingered a coin along the edge of the table, spinning it on its side while he mulled over how the rest of the conversation could go. Nothing is that easy. Particularly when you have nothing to give, he thought. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  The captain pursed her lips and rapped her knuckles on the table in two quick successions. The first bodyguard blocked the curtained doorway just as the other dragged a knife across the bartender's throat.

  Kinsi grabbed the dagger from beneath the table, but not before the captain spun away from him. She tossed her blade across the room and into the chest of the dicethrower cowering in the corner. The captain sat back down, picking up her discarded cards to fan herself without another spare glance to the corpses in the room.

  Gesturing with her fan of garish cards, she said, "Sit, Prince. There are whispers across the tides about a change coming, and I prefer to be far out at sea when that happens."