by Shae Ford
“But we can’t do anything too dangerous. We have an inn to manage, after all.”
“Of course not. And once we’ve finished your research, we’ll come straight home.”
“Yes, I’m sure we’ll be more than ready to get back to something peaceful, by then,” Jake agreed.
While they discussed their plans, Kael slipped away quietly — shaking his head as he went.
The crowd that’d been gathered around Ryane slowly spread out across the room. Kael thought he saw a patch of flaming red hair in the far corner, but he wasn’t at all eager to go fighting through the bodies to get to it. Fortunately, Jonathan came bursting through the doors at that very moment — and his announcement drew the crowd away.
“Prepare yourselves, gents!” he cried.
Kael cringed, expecting an atrocious note to go screeching off his fiddle. But instead, Jonathan merely swept aside to let Clairy through.
Crimson stained her cheeks when she saw everybody watching her. She wore a deep blue dress and had her hair braided softly over her shoulder. There was a light in her eyes, a smile upon her lips …
And an unmistakable bump on her belly.
Most of the room erupted in cheers — though Aerilyn swore loudly.
“That’s exactly what I said when I found out,” Brend grunted, shaking his head.
“Oh, and there’s going to be more of them!” Aerilyn pressed her hands against her face, as if it was all she could do to keep from fainting. “I don’t think the Kingdom’s prepared.”
“For what? Wee giantlings with the fiddler’s gift for mischief? No.” Brend laughed through his grin. “No, but the Kingdom’ll never be ready for that!”
With the crowd moving to congratulate Jonathan and Clairy, Kael finally got a decent look at the other side of the room.
Gwen leaned against the far wall, staring listlessly out the window. Several of the wildmen had turned up in Midlan for the King’s coronation feast. They’d spent the evening telling her all about their adventures in other parts of the realm — and instead of gutting them, she’d actually listened. She’d been reasonably pleasant and had even managed to smile at a few of their stories.
But once the wildmen drifted to other parts of the room, her misery returned.
She slumped against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. Her paint was gone. She wore a soft linen tunic and breeches. The wide belt around her middle revealed a surprisingly graceful figure. Aerilyn had even convinced her to run a brush through her hair, which beat the mad, red tangles into waves.
Gwen was lovelier than Kael had ever seen her … and he thought it would be a shame if she wasted the whole night moping about the wildmen. So he came up with a plan.
He made a great show of straightening his collar before he stepped towards her, hoping it would draw the attention of a certain glowing set of eyes. And he wasn’t disappointed.
“Where do you think you’re going, Marked One?” Silas hissed as he stepped into his path.
Kael held out the necklace. “I was just going to return this.”
“I’ll return it. Go back to your side of the room.”
Silas snatched the necklace from his hand, but Kael didn’t flinch. Instead, he stared unblinkingly at Gwen.
“What are you …? No, stop looking at her! She isn’t yours to look at!”
“She’s not yours, either,” Kael retorted. “And it isn’t against the law to look. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? But she seems so … upset.”
Silas’s brows bent into pained arcs as he glanced at her. “My Thane misses her people. She does not live as wildly as she used to. That’s all it is. Looking at her won’t make her feel any better,” he added with a growl. “So go away.”
“No … in fact, I think I’m going to kiss her.”
“What? No!” Silas dropped the necklace and grabbed Kael roughly by the tunic. “You can’t kiss her!”
“Sure I can.”
“She won’t like it!”
“She liked it well enough, the last time.” Kael bent to whisper menacingly into his ear. “And I’ve learned an awful lot since then.”
When he tried to step past, Silas held desperately onto his shirt. “But — but you already have a mate! The dragoness will be furious with you if you kiss someone else.”
“Oh, I don’t think she minds it. Do you, Kyleigh?”
She stood beside the hearth, bouncing Ryane gently in her arms. “Do I what?”
“Do you mind if I give Gwen one of my deepest, most passionate kisses?”
“Of course not. And give her one from me, as well,” she added with a wink.
By now, Silas’s eyes had grown so wild with terror that they looked as if they were about to burst from their sockets. “Please, Marked One! Please don’t kiss her!”
Kael grabbed him around the collar. “Someone’s going to kiss Gwen tonight. Either you do it … or I will.”
“But it’s abomination,” he moaned.
“There’s no such thing as abomination. I’ve seen how you protect her, how you follow along in her shadow. You obviously care for her, and you have a chance to make her happy. So quit twiddling your thumbs and get on with it.”
Kael didn’t like shoving Silas around, but that seemed to be the only way to get through to him. The halfcat took an eternity to slink across the room, hands twisting nervously before his chest. When he finally reached Gwen, he froze.
She turned from the window and looked him up and down. “What is it, cat? And why are you … sweating?”
Silas said nothing for such a long moment that Kael feared he might faint. Then all at once, he grabbed Gwen by the face and slammed his mouth against hers.
It was easily the worst kiss Kael had ever seen. No woman could’ve possibly enjoyed it — unless that woman’s name happened to be Gwen.
After a brief moment of shock, she grabbed Silas by the hair and pressed against him so roughly that Kael thought for certain one of them would break. But they didn’t. And several seconds later, the kiss still hadn’t ended.
“Ugh, it’s like watching a lion tear into a goat,” Kyleigh muttered as she slipped in beside him.
“Well, I’m sure he hasn’t had much practice,” Kael said with a grimace.
She smirked. “I wasn’t talking about Silas.”
He supposed he could see her point.
When the doors opened again, it was Eveningwing who stepped through — followed closely by the shamans.
From what Kael could make of the rumors, the shapechangers had begun wandering up to the castle not long after Devin was made King. They came in flocks and packs to greet him. Many of them roamed for days around the fields, leery of stepping inside the fortress walls.
So Devin removed the outer gates, which allowed them to come and go as they pleased.
It was nothing any other ruler would’ve done. Crevan’s fortress, Reginald’s island, and Gilderick’s thick reddened walls — each of their castles had been designed to keep people out, to keep a barrier between their subjects and their thrones. But Devin wasn’t like any other ruler, and what he’d done for the shapechangers was only the beginning.
The giants had sent him a caravan’s worth of saplings and seed as a coronation gift. According to what the merchants in Copperdock had said, Devin spent weeks planting them all by hand — packing the courtyards and the fields around the castle with green. Several of them exclaimed that they’d been shocked to find their new King kneeling in the mud.
But though Kael had heard the rumors, he didn’t quite believe them until he saw the castle grounds for himself. Now he thought that if Devin cared for his people even a fraction as much as he cared for his garden, the Kingdom would thrive.
It took quite a bit of convincing, but Devin had finally managed to get the shamans to come inside long enough to join the coronation feast. Though they wore far more clothing than usual, their feet were still bare.
Graymange’s sharp eyes roved until they found Kael
— and he bared all of his teeth into a wolfish greeting.
The shamans stood quietly while Eveningwing spread his arms and blurted:
“Dinner’s ready!”
“No, it’s dinner is served,” Horatio hissed loudly from behind the door.
“Oh. There’s a dinner served and the King wants to see you!”
“Remember to thank them, now.”
“And thank you!”
“Gah!” Horatio bustled out from behind the door and shooed Eveningwing to the side. “Dinner is served, and His Majesty eagerly awaits his guests of honor. On behalf of his shamans and his court, he thanks you all for your gifts. Now, please follow me.”
The crowd spilled from the room in an excited, chattering rush — eager to see Devin.
Their new King had spent his first few months of rule soaring around the realm, learning everything he could about his Kingdom. There wasn’t a region he didn’t visit or a village he overlooked. People were certainly leery of him, at first: not only because he rode in on monstrous wings, but because even his human body was twisted with spines and scales.
Still, Devin managed to win them over — if not with his kindness, then with his complete disinterest in trying to tell anybody how to live. Every region was left to its own devices, governed by its own chosen form of rule.
In the end, Kael supposed Argon had been right: Devin truly was more a caretaker than a King. After having been ruled over for so long, he thought a caretaker was exactly what the Kingdom needed.
“I suppose we should follow,” Kyleigh said quietly.
They were the last ones left — even Silas and Gwen had managed to pull apart long enough to go to dinner. “Fine,” Kael said with a sigh. Then he held out his hands. “But it’s my turn to hold her.”
Kyleigh laughed as she handed her over. Ryane stared up at him through a pair of wide, green eyes, her lips a bright pink against her pale skin. She looked like her mother in every way, save one.
Flaming red curls had begun to sprout up across her head. He loved how they seemed to war against the green of her gaze: two separate colors, each shining equally as bright. But there was something odd about it.
Only children born in the Unforgivable Mountains had red hair. It was their crown and curse. He’d never heard of a redheaded child being born any other way … and yet, Ryane had been born in Copperdock.
Kyleigh insisted that her hair was just a bit of mountain blood showing through. But Kael knew differently. He’d known from the moment her first curl appeared that the red was a message, and a taunt. It was a final jab from the world beyond, a weighted roll of the die:
Ryane was the little reminder that Fate had promised him — a warning that she could always cast for the ones he loved. But though it had clearly been meant to keep him from interfering with her plans, Kael didn’t mind it.
He would’ve given up far more than a bit of freedom, for Ryane.
“I know what you’re doing, whisperer,” Kyleigh said when he turned Ryane towards the hearth. She stepped in behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He could feel her smile against his shoulder. “No matter how many times you look, it’s going to be the same.”
Kael knew this. Still, he couldn’t help but look. When the hearth light brushed across Ryane’s eyes, there was a symbol carved into their middles — a pair of diamonds that wreathed the blacks in gold.
They were a whisperer’s eyes …
They were the eyes of a healer.
Acknowledgements
Well, this has been quite a journey for me, and I’m sad to have it end.
I want to begin by thanking everyone who made this series a possibility. Thank you to my wonderful beta-readers: Prudence, Fran Mason, and Ms. Carmichael. You guys see all the things I can’t, and I couldn’t have done it without you!
I also want to thank Miguel Coimbra, who did such an absolutely fantastic job on the new cover art. You truly brought the characters to life, and gave them a place to shine. Now the story begins before the first page has turned — and that’s a wonderful thing.
Thank you to my family, who has helped in every conceivable way: you read my roughest drafts, encouraged me, pushed me through the low points. You’ve lifted me up in more ways than I can count. Never once was I handed anything but love from you, and I will be forever grateful.
Thank you to my readers, who supported me not only in buying copies of the books, but through their kindness as well. It is a kindness I never expected — a kindness that seems to permeate the world. You brought these stories into your homes and made a place for the characters inside your hearts. If I've been able to make you smile or laugh, if I've lifted your spirits even once over the years, then make no mistake: these stories belong to you.
My own story is a relatively short one.
Way back in 2010, I was a grad student working towards a business degree, and writing was nothing more than an escape from coursework. But somewhere along the way, I accidentally fell in love with it.
I wound up publishing Harbinger in 2012 at the age of 23 — with crossed fingers and a good deal of misguided courage. The last three years have taken me on a journey that I will forever cherish as the adventure of a lifetime. I am beyond grateful to have had the opportunity to earn a living doing something I love, and it's an opportunity you have given me.
I say all of that to say this:
Some of you may have read these books and thought, "Pshh, I could do that!" And if you're one of those people, I want to be the first to tell you to Go for it. Don't hold off until you're "old enough" or have an MFA. Don't wait around for an agent to accept you.
We just happen to live in an age where anybody with a story to tell can share it with the world — and I consider it a golden age. For the first time in the history of storytelling, the writers will decide what is written, and the readers will decide what is read.
So to all of you aspiring authors out there, dust off that notebook and give it a try. There's never been a better time to write.
And to all of you who are readers, as requested, I'll leave you with this:
One thing I have learned throughout this journey is that my intentions as a writer are not nearly as important as my readers’ interpretations. Words can be written, words can be spoken. But, like any other wave of light or sound, unless they hit some sort of receptor, they might as well not have existed.
It’s in the hearing and in the reading that words take on their meaning — and there are as many meanings as there are ears to hear them, eyes to read them, minds to perceive them. It’s a mosaic that began at the first moment of imagination, and it continues on even now.
Your journey isn’t over, dear Reader. There are many characters you have yet to meet, countless worlds left to be explored — and explore them you must, for it’s the eyes upon the page that raise these worlds from the dust, the imagination of the reader that brings these characters to life. A book left unopened has no meaning at all. You make the story what it is.
So stride on, dear Reader. Stride on, and add your colors to the picture.
Appendix of Characters
Aerilyn: Merchant by class, and the only child of Garron the Shrewd. Her family is originally from the seas, but ran its trade out of the Grandforest. She is married to Captain Lysander and they are expecting their first child.
Amos: A whisperer with the gift of healing, and the grandfather of Kael. He has served as Tinnark’s healer for as long as anyone can remember. Amos was captured by Earl Titus on the night Tinnark was sacked and has been held prisoner ever since. It’s been Kael’s quest to rally an army large enough to rescue him.
Argon the Seer: A mage with the gift of Sight who is bound unwillingly in the service of the King.
Baird the Beggar-Baird: An eccentric blind man who joins Kael on his travels. Despite his odd ways, Baird has quite a gift for words, and soon reveals himself to be a very powerful craftsman.
Banagher, King: The King before Crevan. I
t was his attempt to force the whisperers into slavery that started the Whispering War.
Beastkeeper, the: An enormous (and frankly, terrifying) servant of the King. He is in charge of the many shapechangers held in the dungeons beneath Midlan.
Berwyn: The King of the wynns, and the wildmens’ mortal enemies.
Bimply, Mrs.: Uncle Martin’s head cook — and consequently, his sworn enemy. She considers it her personal duty to keep the patriarch of Gravy Bay healthy … whether he likes it or not.
Bloodfang: A halfwolf from the Grandforest, the alpha of his pack, and slave of King Crevan. Kyleigh lived with the Fang pack for as long as she could remember. When Bloodfang attacks him in Duke Reginald’s office, Kael has no choice but to kill him with an arrow to the heart — an act that has haunted him ever since.
Brend, Prince (Grainer): One of the giants Kael shares a stall with while captured in the Endless Plains, and a son of clan Grainer. He’s a bit rough around the edges and has a rather mean sense of humor. Convinced he only had a case of the sniffles, he still doesn’t know that Kael saved him from becoming a Fallow. At the end of Slight and Shadow, it’s revealed that Brend is actually the long-lost Prince of the giants — and he owes Kael a favor for rescuing his region. Brend has agreed to fight alongside Kael the moment he asks.
Brock: The head elder of Tinnark. He’s killed on the night Earl Titus sacks the village.
Callan, General (Horseman): A giant of the plains, Declan’s father, and the Prince’s previous General. He led the giants bravely against the rebel whisperers during the Whispering War, and it is assumed he died while trying (unsuccessfully) to keep Titus out of the plains.
Chaney: A boy from the Grandforest and the elder brother of Claude. He travels with Garron’s caravan.
Chaucer: A merchant who serves as one of Duke Reginald’s managers. After Captain Lysander tampers with the votes, Chaucer is cheated out of the position of chancellor of the High Seas. However, he’s finally voted in as chancellor at the end of Slight and Shadow and has been causing all sorts of trouble for the pirates.
