Silverblood

by Jamie Foley

  His grin stretched wide. “Yes. Will you marry me?”

  Well, she wasn’t getting any younger. Fine.

  Brooke awoke to sunlight streaming through white curtains and a sweet-smelling jungle breeze tickling her skin. She slowly opened her eyes and stared out the open window of Granny Zelle’s pyramid. She admired the distant mountain range and wondered which one was Sleeping Panther.

  Maybe they should go somewhere away from everything for their honeymoon. Away from an ominous dormant volcano. Away from Lysander’s creepy toxic plant garden downstairs. Away from his adorable grandmother with her happy squeals and opinions and questions about great-grandchildren. Away from the Darkwood, which now surely wanted one or both of them dead. Away from the Emberhawk people, who rejoiced over their restored Slain Prince and new princess.

  Ugh. The worst thing about marrying Lysander was becoming a princess.

  At least if Ryon teased her about it, she could point out that he’d been kidnapped and held captive in a foreign castle for a forced marriage like a princess in a children’s tale.

  Brooke rolled over, but her husband’s place on the bed was empty and his sheets pulled up neatly. Where had he gone so early? Or had she slept in?

  At least not being chieftess any more meant she didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn to work every day. Although the lack of work was beginning to gnaw at her soul.

  She stretched, preparing to do her morning exercises, prayer, and schedule. She should check on Dimbae, whom Nariellyn said was recovering so well that he might be able to get out of bed today. And of course Brooke should go to Sorrel’s huge nest and see the three baby gryphons again, because their little fluffy bodies, soft downy feathers that stuck out in every direction, and huge heads and eyes were cute enough to cure depression worldwide. Maybe Brooke could arrange for Dimbae to pet one to liven his spirits.

  She remembered Felix with a gasp. Was Lysander gone because . . . ?

  Brooke pulled her robe tight and dashed through Lysander’s suite, up the stairs at their strange angle thanks to the pyramid’s shape—she’d have to get used to that—and into the upper room where they’d piled as much syn as they could collect into gleaming silver heaps. A fox lay on the large ottoman near the balcony, surrounded by pillows and covered with a blanket.

  Felix’s eyes were closed as Brooke knelt by his side. She gently lifted the blanket and observed the wound that still slowly oozed silver.

  Brooke had no idea how to help him aside from feeding him the syn. He’d sounded like his death was inevitable, but he wasn’t dead yet or he’d have reverted to some sort of stone or gem as Zamara had. The least she could do now was let him sleep. Assuming that elementals slept.

  She felt guilty for confronting Illiana after Felix had warned about how powerful she was. She should have known he’d fight to protect her—rather, the keystone. Lysander also felt guilty for not being able to save his sister. But he couldn’t have known how she would react, and their guilt couldn’t change anything now.

  The door opened slowly to reveal Lysander carrying a tray with a heaping breakfast. He brightened when he saw her, but she put her finger to her lips and indicated that Felix was asleep. She motioned to the table, where Lysander set the tray.

  He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she relished his scent. Being with him felt so right, especially after so many failed engagements. Did this mean her curse was finally broken? Maybe it would be worth a return trip to Jadenvive to flaunt her happy marriage in front of Ulysses’s mother. She wondered if people would keep calling her a witch.

  “Good morning, Princess,” Lysander whispered.

  Brooke wrinkled her nose at him and snatched a muffin. She took a bite, then waved it in his face. You’d better watch it.

  He grinned and handed her a letter. “From Jadenvive.”

  Uh oh. Did they want her back to stand trial for leaving?

  Brooke snapped the wax seal with a tree symbol—the Katrosi emblem. She stopped eating as she unfolded the parchment and read:

  Brooke,

  You either have the best timing or the absolute worst.

  The Elder of Aether told his granddaughter about his prophecy and the instruction he gave you before he had a chance to tell the council. We saw her memories, and your name has been cleared.

  But unfortunately the council already removed you as chief. As much as I didn’t want to, I stepped into your position as vice and led the tribe during the incursion, when our people needed a leader more than ever. The elders have decided I am to serve as chief for the remainder of your term, at which point we will return to the trials as normal.

  I wish this could have happened in a more respectful, traditional manner. I am sorry. I hope to have your understanding and approval.

  Now that I am chief, I can see how completely overwhelmed you must have been. I do not have the same tolerance for stress that you do. Because our people and our city require my full attention as we rebuild, I do not have the time to also worry about leading the Tribal Alliance.

  As such, I have decided to form a Tribal Alliance council. The leaders of the other tribes have recommended representatives from among their own peoples to serve on this council, which will oversee diplomatic foreign affairs and promote peace and goodwill among the tribes.

  I would be honored if you would consider representing the Katrosi tribe in leading this new council. King Coriander mentioned he would offer the position for Emberhawk representation to Lysander. Congratulations, by the way.

  Regardless of your decision, please return to Jadenvive as soon as you are able. I have many questions about the day-to-day as chief, could use your advice on pleasing the patriarchs and matriarchs, and would like to know of any promises you made which I might uphold.

  Your headdress will be placed in a position of honor. I will also need the keystone, as its double has been stolen from the treasury, and I look rather silly trying to lead with a large empty hole in my new headdress.

  Strength and humility,

  Ulysses

  “What does it say?” Lysander asked, clearly studying her reaction.

  He wants me to lead a new Tribal Alliance council, she thought to him, re-reading that portion and taking another bite of muffin, chewing slowly.

  “Will you do it?”

  I don’t know . . . she mused as the desire to say yes swelled within her. This would be an opportunity to carry on her grandfather’s legacy, even not as chief.

  She hadn’t failed him, then. Hadn’t dishonored House Stillwind. Hadn’t truly left a dark smear on the history scrolls as the first female chief.

  “What’s wrong?” Lysander asked.

  Brooke’s face must have shown her confusion as she read over the last paragraph again. “Apparently someone stole the keystone’s double from the treasury.”

  “The keystone has a double?” Felix’s voice sounded from behind her.

  Brooke put the letter down and went to his side. “How are you feeling?”

  “Terrible,” Felix growled. “Why would the keystone have a double?”

  “To protect it,” Brooke said. “My grandfather had a quartz gem crafted to look exactly like it. When he would go into battle or another dangerous situation, he would have it removed from his headdress and stored in the treasury, while taking the double out with him.” She petted his soft fur, avoiding the wound, and offered him a silver chunk. “Here’s some syn. Is there anything else we can do for you? Maybe an aether healer like Nari—”

  “Bring me your headdress.”

  Brooke glanced at Lysander and tried to hand-sign: “Could you get my headdress, please?” She was certain she butchered the word “headdress.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You really don’t have to learn hand-language. I told you I prefer to hear your thought-voice.” But must have understood her signs, because he retrieved her headdress from across the room and brought it to her.

  Felix stared at the gem, closer than he’d dare app
roach it before. “So this one is the fake?”

  “No, this is the real keystone,” Brooke said. “I left Jadenvive in such a rush that I didn’t have it swapped out.”

  Felix inched his nose toward the cloudy facets, and Brooke pulled it back. “Hey! Didn’t you say something bad would happen if you touched it?”

  “I’m going to die anyway.” Felix struggled onto all fours, hopped off the ottoman, and touched his nose to the stone.

  Nothing happened.

  A deep, guttural growl rumbled from Felix’s throat. “You mixed it up at some point, you fools!”

  Brooke sat there, stunned. “So the real one . . . was stolen?”

  Felix sprinted to the balcony, jumped onto the railing, leaped off, and transformed into a wyvern in mid-air. He gripped the railing hard enough to bend the metal railing and roared in pain.

  “What are you doing?” Brooke cried.

  “Get on my back,” Felix snarled. “There’s no time!”

  Brooke held onto her robe against the gust from his wings. “But aren’t you about to . . . ?”

  “I’ll try not to die in mid-air.” Felix’s eyes flashed. “This is bigger than me and you and your tribes and the empire now. All of Alani is at stake, and it may already be too late.”

  THE STORY CONTINUES

  IN THE KATROSI REVOLUTION BOOK 3: LOTUSFALL

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks so much to everyone who exercised patience and understanding as this book was written and produced slower than usual. To the amazing fans who sent me messages of encouragement. To those who saw the delay and pre-ordered anyway. I couldn’t have done it without knowing that y’all were excitedly waiting for this sequel. I hope it was worth the wait!

  I could not have done this without the guidance of my incredibly talented editor, Sarah Grimm. She drove halfway across the country not once, but twice to help me iron out these crazy plot threads. Sarah, you are one of the very few who truly get me and my writing style. Your friendship is priceless to me, and I can’t thank you enough.

  To my incredible alpha and beta team members: Amanda, Becky, Chantal, Danae, Desirae, Hann, Keanan, Kimberly, Laurel, Mackenzie, and Rob. Thank you so much for dealing with this manuscript in such a raw form and offering fantastic insight and suggestions. Y’all are the best!

  To the ARC team, promoters, and my friends who supported me even when times were tough for all of us.

  To my husband, my daughter, and the rest of my beloved family for their everlasting patience and loving support (even the Muggles).

  And last but never least, I’m grateful to the one true Creator who gave me this calling and guided me along this rugged path. Take joy, my king, in what you hear. May it be a sweet, sweet sound in your ear.

  Author Biography

  Jamie Foley loves strategy games, dewberries, and Texas winters. She kills vipers with her great-grandfather’s rifle but she’s terrified of red wasps and mimics in Dungeons & Dragons.

  When she’s not writing clean sci-fi/fantasy, Jamie specializes in digital typesetting. With over a dozen years of experience in graphic art and online marketing, she is currently the Director of Marketing at Enclave Publishing and the typesetter for The Christian Writers Institute and Fayette Press.

  Jamie’s husband is her cowboy astronaut muse. They live between Austin and the cattle ranch, where their hyperactive spawnling and wolfpack roam.

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