‘No idea,’ she said blankly. But something in her chest soared. So it was true, what Orson had told them about the sea-serpent scales. No wonder Delja now wore hers over her chest. Protection. Magical protection. It was the most confirmation Roh was going to get. Delja suspected something, but couldn’t know what Roh had taken.
Delja’s smile was strange. ‘We are not so very different, I think you’ll find, Rohesia.’
I don’t understand, Roh wanted to say. She didn’t understand how the queen could flit between seeming to care about her and then being so cold, so unfair. Between talking of Cerys like she knew her and then taking Odi away.
‘Who rules while I’m gone?’ Roh asked.
‘The Council of Seven Elders will preside over Saddoriel in the interim.’
Roh tasted blood as she bit the inside of her cheek. ‘And your role?’
Delja tilted her head again. ‘To offer guidance where requested.’
‘That sounds a lot like ruling to me.’
‘Rohesia,’ Delja implored. ‘I will do my best to help you, from the inside.’
Something squirmed in Roh’s gut. ‘Why?’
‘Because six centuries is a long time to rule. Because …’
‘Because?’
‘Your mother … She was important to me once, more than I could say. Perhaps I couldn’t help you when you were born, I couldn’t change where the Law of the Lair forced you to go, but perhaps … Perhaps now I can change where you’re going.’
Roh let Delja’s words wash over her as she gazed at the mighty tome and its endless volumes. Delja, the most powerful ruler in cyren history, wanted to help her. Could she be trusted?
Roh made to leave.
‘The human,’ Delja said quietly. ‘The Jaktaren want him, now the tournament is over.’
A chill rushed over Roh’s clammy skin.
‘They will go to great lengths to preserve the integrity of their guild, Rohesia. You know this. Mighty is the Law …’
‘Sacred is the ledger.’ Roh murmured the response. In the iron-framed doorway, she turned fully to face the former queen, rage simmering in her veins. ‘According to them, he is property of the crown, and you no longer wear one. I do, whatever it’s made of. And the tournament is not over,’ she replied, her voice as strong as steel. ‘They made damn sure of that. Odalis Arrowood stays with me.’
Whatever emotion flashed in Delja’s eyes, Roh didn’t recognise it. She left the former queen and the tome behind. She was out of patience and out of time.
With her decision made, in the privacy of her Upper Sector quarters, Roh packed her bag. Maps, her sketchbook, spare clothes and various items were spread out across the bed.
‘I went to see Cerys,’ she admitted to Odi and Ames.
‘Rohesia.’ Ames glowered from where he was perched at Odi’s usual place by the window. ‘What did I tell —’
‘I know,’ she snapped. Roh had debated confiding in them at all, but … She couldn’t bear the thought of being entirely alone in this, of another secret coming between her and those she cared for. ‘I couldn’t help it,’ she said more softly. ‘Who knows if I’ll ever return here, Ames. She’s my mother. It was right to say goodbye.’
‘And did you?’
‘Well … not exactly.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ames ground out. Wisely, Odi was staying quiet.
‘She told me something,’ Roh said. ‘Something that might help.’
From his bed, Odi sat up straight. Ames didn’t move from the window bench.
‘What did she say?’ Odi asked.
‘That I … would find someone. In a place called the gilded plains.’
‘Someone? Who?’ Ames barked, his arms folding across his chest.
Roh flinched. ‘Someone who … who could help.’
‘She said those exact words, did she?’ Ames pressed heatedly. ‘Your perfectly sane mother told you where you could find someone to assist you with winning the crown?’
‘I’ve already won the crown,’ Roh ground out. ‘This … this is about the gems, the keys to the Tome of Kyeos.’
Ames shook his head in disbelief and long-suffering frustration. ‘Pray tell, what else did she say?’
Roh shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with the straps of the pack, her mother’s words filling her mind. She chewed her lip. To mention Cerys’ hallucination of a dead brother would discredit the rest. Roh glanced across at Odi. ‘That’s about it.’
Odi threw his hands up in frustration. ‘That’s nothing, Roh!’
‘I think she was trying to tell me something real, something that could lead us to the birthstones.’ She turned to her mentor. ‘Do you know anything about the gilded plains? Anything that might help?’
Ames pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. ‘I thought you understood your mother’s condition. She is of no use to us. She is dangerous.’
‘Ames, she was trying to help me. I know it. Please, do you know anything? Anything at all?’
Sighing heavily, Ames stood and retrieved his goblet of wine from the table. He took a long drink and came to stand at her side, looking over the map she had laid flat on the quilt.
‘Gilded plains,’ he murmured to himself, his dark talons tracing over the different cyren territories. ‘You know I am no scholar. Certainly no geographer. I’ve not heard of any gilded plains … I don’t —’ Ames stopped, a single talon tapping a marker Roh couldn’t see.
‘What is it?’
Frowning, Ames turned to her. ‘Well, I know not of any official location, but … On the route to Akoris, where many of the Uniir worshippers still dwell, there are tussock networks …’
‘What’s tussock?’
‘Like small patches of thicker grass,’ Odi answered.
‘These tussock networks,’ Ames continued. ‘I suppose they could be described as golden? Gilded, even.’
Roh loosed her held breath. ‘And they’re on the road to Akoris?’
‘There is no “road to Akoris”, Rohesia, but yes, I suppose one could pass through them.’
Roh turned to Odi, triumphant. ‘Akoris is one of the cyren territories guarding a birthstone.’
Odi’s jaw was clenched. ‘I don’t think we should base our decisions on some crazed comment your mother made.’
‘She wasn’t crazed when she said it,’ Roh argued. ‘And, it’s on the way.’
Odi shook his head in despair, throwing Ames a look that told Roh they’d spoken of her stubborn streak before.
‘Rohesia, you’ve barely seen Saddoriel, let alone anything of the realms above. You have to be strategic about this,’ Ames said. ‘You cannot make rash decisions.’
‘I know.’
‘This only gets more complicated, more dangerous from here on.’
‘I know.’
Ames gave a resigned sigh. ‘You’re determined to visit these so-called gilded plains, aren’t you?’
Roh nodded. She had to trust her gut and her instinct was telling her that Cerys was trying to help, that Cerys knew something.
‘Fine,’ Ames said. ‘But remember, you need to have obtained all three gemstones within seven moons. Do you understand?’
‘I understand.’ Again, Roh nodded. ‘Ames?’
‘What is it?’
She had been pondering the next question since the day before, only now working up the courage to voice it. ‘Can you … Am I able to select you as one of my companions for this part of the tournament?’
For the first time, Ames’ gaze softened. ‘No. I am a mentor of the bone cleaners. I am bound to my duties here.’
Roh had guessed as much, but it felt like a blow nevertheless.
‘I’ll meet you in Akoris,’ Ames said quietly.
‘What?’
‘I cannot go with you on your quest to the gilded plains, but I’ll find a way to meet you in Akoris.’
It was more than she could ask, more than she could hope for. Quiet fell between them and Roh lo
oked to the map once more. Akoris, Csilla and Lochloria … The three cyren territories that now held the birthstones of Saddoriel. Roh ran her talons across the seas and vast lands she would soon travel, the complete and utter unknown.
‘You know who has crossed those shores and entered those lands?’ Ames asked.
Roh met his gaze and nodded. She did indeed.
‘Good.’ Ames folded up the map and slotted it into the side pocket of the pack. ‘Are you still coming to the workshop?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then we must hurry. You’re due at the entrance soon.’
It wasn’t long before Roh found herself rooted to the spot in the doorway of the bone-cleaning workshop. Inside, it was full, and every single face within was staring back at her. Roh willed her face not to flush. She hadn’t seen Orson and Harlyn since they had found out about the card game. Now, they sat in their usual seats, glaring at her and her crown of bones, their eyes full of loathing.
With Ames sitting at his desk at the front of the room, Roh straightened her stance. ‘I need to speak with Orson and Harlyn,’ she announced, the words coming out louder than she’d intended.
‘Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of everyone,’ Harlyn said, her gaze lingering on Roh’s crown. ‘The circlet suited you better,’ she added. ‘Marked you for what you truly are.’
Beside her, Orson flinched slightly, but for once didn’t defend Roh, didn’t dilute Harlyn’s cruel words. The blood rushed to Roh’s head and she had to stop herself from swaying.
‘We were the only ones who treated you like that circlet didn’t matter. Well, it turns out it did. Only an isruhe could have been so cold to the creatures who’d been the kindest to her.’
Roh had never heard Harlyn use that term before. It sounded the sharpest on her lips, a blade poised to make Roh bleed. Roh felt as though she was bleeding, right from her chest. And then, she spotted it at the back of the workshop … Her music-theatre model. Shattered into a thousand pieces. Left discarded on the floor with the rest of the bone fragments. She wasn’t ready for the pain that tore through her, or the shock that left her near breathless. But they couldn’t see her like that.
She raised her chin, steeling herself. ‘Harlyn,’ she said, her voice hard. ‘You will meet me at the entrance hall in half an hour.’
‘Not a chance, traitor.’
‘It wasn’t a question.’ The words came to her hard and fast. Words she never thought she’d be directing at her friend, in a tone she never thought she’d use. Nevertheless, she continued to speak. If they weren’t going to like her, they could certainly fear her.
‘There will be a pack waiting for you. Bring your lute.’
Silence fell, but the hatred pouring from Harlyn was deafening. And beside her, Orson’s eyes were lined with tears. To be betrayed was one thing, but to now be left behind, alone in the depths of Saddoriel … Roh knew it was unforgivable.
‘Are you sure that was a good idea?’ Odi asked Roh later, as the pair made their way towards the archway of bones at the entrance of Saddoriel. ‘They … they hate you now.’
‘They’re not the only ones,’ Roh said, pausing midway down the quiet passage to check her pack. She was increasingly aware of what exactly she carried, to the point where she was desperate to leave the confines of the lair, for risk of being discovered. As she rifled through the top layer of supplies, her hand brushed against what she hid: something warm, tucked away securely. She sagged with relief. Safe – it was still safe, her secret, hidden from the world.
‘You’ve got everything?’ Odi’s brow furrowed with concern.
‘Yes, I’ve got everything,’ she replied, shouldering her pack and starting off down the path again.
‘Roh,’ Odi pushed. ‘To have Harlyn with us … when she feels like that …’
Roh gave a hollow laugh. ‘You’re not going to like my other choices, either.’
At last, they reached the entrance of Saddoriel and beneath the archway of bones stood three figures: a stony-faced Harlyn, Yrsa Ward and Finn Haertel.
‘Are you mad?’ Odi hissed in Roh’s ear.
‘Perhaps,’ she murmured. ‘But the Jaktaren know the realms above. They know how to travel, how to reach the cyren territories. We need resources and knowledge, Odi. Not friends.’
Delja and the Council of Seven Elders were waiting as well.
‘You have seven moons,’ Taro Haertel said, stepping forward and offering his hand, his grip as icy as his smile. ‘Happy hunting, Queen of Bones …’
Upon their departure, the sound of two fiddles had filled the air. The song of yearning and sorrow now followed Roh and her cohort through the passageways and the water forests, past many filmy portals to the sea. She let the notes and the elder’s words wash over her as they travelled through the outskirts of Talon’s Reach for hours on end, towards the human realms beyond. As she put more distance between herself and the lair, worry churned in Roh’s gut. The last time she had tried to leave the cyren territory, something had stopped her from following Odi into the woodlands. Now, as she walked, she tried to sense the invisible cord that had bound her to Saddoriel. Just how strong was it? Exactly what was the connection? Silently, she searched deep, keeping her fears to herself and not faltering a single step.
Time passed in surreal waves, the silence between the companions making the tunnels all the more stifling, although it was better than the bickering. Roh pressed on, keeping her head high. Queen … She would hold that title one day, if it was the last thing she ever did.
After what seemed like days of arduous trekking and burning calves, something caught Roh’s eye. A beam of pale light up ahead. Something stirred within her as cool, fresh air kissed her clammy skin. Gritting her teeth, Roh adjusted the heavy pack on her shoulders, her secret buried deep within it, and took the lead, quickening her pace, heart in her throat.
When she reached the mouth of the cave, she nearly cried out at what lay beyond. She didn’t need to look at the map she carried to know where they were. They had made it. They were exactly where they ought to be: at the very beginning.
She lifted a foot and made to step forward, rigid, waiting for the tether to snap in place, waiting for her freedom to be leashed —
Smooth, black pebbles crunched beneath her boot.
The threshold between her realm and Odi’s was behind her. A stony shore greeted her with a breeze that tasted of salt and whipped through her hair.
Rohesia the bone cleaner breathed it in deeply. With her band of unlikely companions at her back, she stepped into the new world that beckoned.
Want more?
The wait for Book 2 won’t be long. In fact, you can pre-order With Dagger and Song today...
Against all odds, Roh survived the harrowing Queen’s Tournament, but now something far deadlier awaits her: a formidable quest for the three magic birthstones of Saddoriel.
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Acknowledgements
Back in 2018, I took myself on holiday to New Zealand, where I planned to rest, wander, eat, drink and ride horses through the rolling valleys. It had been a long time since I’d had any time off and I needed to hit refresh, to refill the creative well. New Zealand is perfect for just that. Only a few nights in, I found myself scribbling down the initial idea for this very book at a bar. In fact, it was at this bar that I wrote the opening line, practically verbatim. At some point, I looked up from my notepad and a blue-eyed stranger asked, ‘What are you writing?’
Gary, you were there from the exact moment this book came into being and for all the moments after. Thank you for spending countless hours listening and talking with me about this project, and for offering up your own ideas and creativity. You were such a vital part of this novel’s creation – it certainly wouldn’t be what it is without you and everything you do for me.
Not long after this trip, I moved to New Zealand permanently and the entirety of this book was written in that first year I lived abroad. It was not without its challenges, and were it not for the thought-provoking Messenger conversations and book recommendations of Hannah Jermyn and Aleesha Paz, I might have actually gone mad. I can’t thank you enough for keeping me connected to our trio, to the book community and to my roots as a publishing grad.
Imagine my surprise and delight when the beta readers from my previous books agreed to continue reading for me on this new venture. Claire, Aleesha and Kelly, I don’t know how you’re not sick of me and my inane questions at this point, but I’m forever grateful for your patience, your sensitive feedback, your unwavering support and for making me a better author.
My gratitude also goes to Lisy and Eva, as I’m sure it will in all the books yet to come. The laughs, the conversations and the enduring friendship we all share brings me so much joy. As you know, this book holds a bit of all of us, and nothing makes me happier.
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