Dance of Thieves
4/5
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About this ebook
A stunning new young adult adventure set in the kingdoms of the Remnant, by the author of the New York Times-bestselling Remnant Chronicles and the Jenna Fox Chronicles.
A formidable outlaw family that claims to be the first among nations.
A son destined to lead, thrust suddenly into power.
Three fierce young women of the Rahtan, the queen's premier guard.
A legendary street thief leading a mission, determined to prove herself.
A dark secret that is a threat to the entire continent.
When outlaw leader meets reformed thief, a cat-and-mouse game of false moves ensues, bringing them intimately together in a battle that may cost them their lives—and their hearts.
The Remnant Chronicles
The Beauty of Darkness
The Heart of Betrayal
The Kiss of Deception
Praise for Dance of Thieves:
"Pearson is a gifted storyteller and spinner of eminently satisfying romances and fantasy. Fans will thrill at these newest protagonists, especially the women warriors, who are equal partners in the play for power." —Publishers Weekly
"This novel has it all—romance, conflict, danger, and humor. A must-have for all fantasy YA shelves." —
School Library Journal
Mary E. Pearson
Mary E. Pearson is the internationally and New York Times bestselling author of the Dance of Thieves duology, the Remnant Chronicles trilogy, the Jenna Fox Chronicles, and more books for young readers. The Courting of Bristol Keats is her debut novel for adults. She writes from her home in California.
Read more from Mary E. Pearson
Dance of Thieves
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Reviews for Dance of Thieves
231 ratings19 reviews
What our readers think
Readers find this title to have a mix of opinions. Some readers found the insta love and slow start to be negative aspects of the book. However, others enjoyed the world building, satisfying fantasy/romance ending, and the intriguing plot. The book has a grudging friendship that quickly becomes more, with secrets and goals to achieve. Overall, readers recommend this book and are excited for the sequel.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Dance of Thieves follows an elite soldier and ex-thief, Kazimyrah. Kazi and her fellow elite soldiers are tasked with finding war criminals in a far off outpost called Hell's Mouth.
The problem is that Kazi + her crew don't know anything about Hell's Mouth. It's a land/city under the stewardage of the Ballengers, a family with an incredible amount of pride and loyalty to each other and their land. As they come into Hell's Mouth, they come just as the previous patrei (ruler) has died, a new one came into power, and all sorts of people fighting to take that power away from him.
Almost immediately, Kazi gets mixed up with Jase, the new patrei, and they form a grudging friendship that quickly becomes more. Each has their own secrets and goals to achieve, and they shakily balance that with their relationship with another.
I liked this book. It wasn't incredible, but it was entertaining and it was really cool to see the description of a family so fiercely devoted to each other and to the people/land entrusted to their care. You don't see something like that often in books or even IRL. It's also really cool to see Kazi learn how to accept love from a partner and a family other than her military family.
The book wasn't full of a lot of romance, which was ok. The story was definitely the focus here, and it was a good one. I look forward to reading the next book. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Spoiler-free: Loved this! It is probably one of my top 10 favorite books.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5İt was amazing i can't wait to read vow of thieves.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The world building was great, but the insta love just ruined the whole thing. I don't have anything against romance, but falling in love that fast uhm.. I found it weird and obvious. Same thing for the storyline, it didn't get good until like I was 300 pages in. I hope the second book is better than this one.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5It took me a little while to catch on but once I did and truly started figuring out the characters, I couldn’t stop reading! Mary Pearson is a great writer and I could imagine the world she created. I’m looking forward to reading the next book to see where Jase and Kazi end up and to find out more about that cliffhanger!!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I have to admit I have never read "The Remnant Chronicles", so I had no idea what to expect, but many year ago I read "The Adoration of Jenna Fox", by the same author, and loved it. So I started "Dance of Thieves" on a hopeful note and I thoroughly enjoyed the novel. It was full of action and suspense, the world building was excellent and the characters were all well-developed and interesting, especially Kazi, the main protagonist. She was such a strong character and was intelligent, ruthless, determined, brave, devious, loyal and kind. I also loved Jase and his large, boisterous family (especially Lydia and Nash) and Wren and Synove, Kazi's fellow Rhatan soldiers. Each of them was flawed and had secrets, but they also had depth and heart. I adored them all.The romance between Jase and Kazi developed perfectly. Neither trusted the other completely yet they had to rely on each other to escape slave hunters and survive the wilderness, all the while hiding their true motives. The banter between the two of them was a highlight of the novel and kept the plot flowing. I was cheering for them from the start, and I thought the dual narrative was very well done.Overall, "Dance of Thieves" was a very entertaining read with lots of twists and turns, lies and betrayals. However, it finished happily, but with a cliffhanger, and I am looking forward to reading the sequel.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I categorize Dance of Thieves as fantasy although I know others disagree. I didn't realize it follows on the heels of the Kiss of Deception trilogy, which is one of my favorite trilogies. I should have re-read books two and three. Lia is queen of Venda, as you know from the trilogy. The world is not perfect and there are still people in other kingdoms or areas who aren't united with the three kingdoms from the trilogy. Lia, Rafe, and Lia's brother are united to bringing more peace and justice.Kazi, Wren, and Synove are to infiltrate the Ballenger's holdings to find the man who deceived and killed Lia's father, the king of Moorrighan. The Ballengers claim the land for as far as the eye can see even though the nearest kingdom disputes some of the land. The Patrei has died and his son Jase is the new Patrei. The Ballengers have passed down this leadership role longer than any other kingdom has existed; they tell their stories from the Ancients. When Kazi and her friends arrive, Jase and his large family are in mourning and getting drunk seems appropriate. Unfortunately or fortunately, the timing is bad (or good). Kazi humiliates Jase, not realizing who he is. She follows him only to see him be captured by slave labor traders. Before she realizes someone is there, she is knocked out When she awakes, she and Jase and chained together in a wagon a couple of days later. They must work together to escape.Once Jase and Kazi escape, they need to return to Tor's Watch. Jase needs to be seen to reassure people that the Ballengers have passed leadership along and to attend the funeral; Kazi needs to return to finish her mission. No one knows what happened to either of them, so everyone is worried and trying to find them. They are intrigued by each other and get close as they travel back. Jase isn't completely honest about their destination, but this dishonestly brings Kazi exactly where she needs to be. She is now a guest in the Ballenger home.The dance begins. Kazi and Jase trust each other--to an extent. They are drawn to each other and are honest about their feelings and work together well, creating a tenuous trust. However, Kazi doesn't tell Jase why she's there or anything about her past because she can tell he doesn't reveal everything about their compound. Jase doesn't tell Kazi the family business because it isn't her business and she still represents Venda, who they feel no allegiance to. They are their own kingdom and should be recognized as such. Betrayals are inevitable. These betrayals will lead to book two, which I'm looking forward to reading.This novel has a different "feel" than the Kiss of Deception trilogy. Lia and Rafe make brief appearances. Griz and Eben are minor characters as well. Kazi was a minor character in the former trilogy, so you'll feel the connection, but this is very much its own story. I wanted to just sit and read, so it was a page-turner. I am definitely reading book two when it comes out, which is August 6, 2019. If you liked Kiss of Deception, definitely read on. I would read the former trilogy first although it isn't necessary. It will explain a lot of backstory and it's really, really, really good.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5The Remnant Chronicles continues with Jase, the new leader of a fearsome outlaw family, and Kazi, a former thief and current guard of the queen. The queen has set out to overthrow Jase's family, but they must join forces to survive despite their conflicts.Dance of Thieves takes place in an already established world that I was unfamiliar with. I never read the Remnant Chronicles and I expected this book to be part of an all new series. Establishing the characters, setting, and current politics felt choppy and stilted. The author seemed to assume that the reader already knows the world and didn't fill in many gaps besides the backgrounds of a few characters. The prose completely changes to being fluid and easier when the plot finally moves forward, but I didn't feel much of a connection to the characters. I didn't finish this book. Sixty pages felt like it took forever and I decided not to invest the time in the rest of the four hundred plus additional pages.What I read had some good aspects. Kazi AKA Ten is an interesting character. She's a legendary thief because she worked for a long time and kept her ten fingers, meaning she wasn't caught stealing. When the queen went by, Kazi spit on her and the queen responded by training her. Kazi pushed back and kept defiant for a while until the others earned her trust. The only trouble after that was when she had a traumatic flashback and attacked someone violently. I felt for her, but Jase was only introduced a few pages before they met. We only saw him being generally drunk and arrogant before the two characters on opposing sides are thrown together, presumably to become attracted despite their best efforts.Dance of Thieves had some good aspects, but I couldn't connect with it. Maybe I'll read the previous series and get on board, but the way it's written doesn't seem to account of unfamiliar readers.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5So, I'm seeing a lot of star ratings for this that were posted long before ARCs were even available and I feel like giving it a five-star rating just to counterbalance the one- and two-star ratings that are based on...what, exactly? But, that wouldn't be completely honest, and I do try to be (mostly) completely honest with my ratings and reviews.
While this does take place in the same universe as Pearson's Remnant Chronicles, it takes place several years later and features completely different characters, so familiarity with the prior trilogy isn't necessary to understand and enjoy this one.
I loved Kazi and Jase and their contentious relationship and the slow dawning of trust between them. And then I loved when secrets that had been known to the reader were brought to light and that trust was shattered and they had to figure out whether they could rebuild it or it was gone forever. Really, for me, all the danger and adventure and intrigue and political machinations took a backseat to the relationship between Kazi and Jase. I'm sure all that other stuff will be really important for future books and it may even be what other readers like most about this book, but I'm gonna keep showing up for Kazi and Jase. - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Series Info/Source: This is the first book in the Dance of Thieves duology. I got a copy of this to read on ebook through Kindle Unlimited.Thoughts: This was a DNF for me. I stopped reading it at about 25% in. This is the third time I have tried to read this book. I keep forgetting it is a continuation of the Remnant Chronicles which I never finished because I didn't enjoy the second book in that series. I was going to try to push through this anyway, but it is mostly just a flat out enemies to lovers story with very little else going one. I just can't stay interested in it and I am making sure to record this down this time so I don't pick it up again!The story follows Kazi, former street thief from the first series set in this world. Kazi is now a soldier for the queen and has been sent to investigate attacks on new settlements in the kingdom. Kazi is certain that the Ballenger empire is the one attacking, what she doesn’t know is that the patriarch of the Ballenger empire has died and his son, Jase, is their new leader.Through a series of improbable circumstances Kazi and Jase end up chained together (literally). What follows is them trying to get to safety while alternatively hating each other and trying not to fall in love with each other. It is a very basic enemies to lovers storyline and I found it boring. This is the first 25% of the book and I just had no interest in it so I stopped reading at that point.Pearson has been more miss than hit for me as an author. I enjoyed her book “The Adoration of Jenna Fox” but didn’t enjoy the rest of that series. I also enjoyed the first book in the Remnant Chronicles but really didn’t like the second book in that series. I think I am done picking up books by her at this point; something about her writing style and pacing just doesn’t work for me.My Summary (3/5): Overall I didn’t enjoy this and stopped reading about 25% of the way in. The story starts out like it’s going to be some epic fantasy story and then quickly devolves into a rather two dimensional enemies to lovers story. I wasn’t a fan and don’t plan on reading more Pearson books in the future.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I loved this book! It does start a little slow but it's worth the wait. It's the perfect book to read if you want that classic satisfying fantasy/romance ending, I highly recommend this book.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I've got to be completely honest, the first time I started this book I didn't like it. I thought it was boring and a bit trite BUT I wanted to give it a fair shot so after a short hiatus I plunged right back in. The second time around it felt like I picked up a completely different book. I'm not sure if it was just the headspace I was in or if the story just needed a little more time to come together BUT whatever the reason, the change was dramatic. So, if you are stalled in the beginning and are questioning its worthiness then I am here to advise you to dig in and keep going because it is SO worth it!!I absolutely LOVED this book!! Is there a yummy romance? Yes! Is it an insta-love? Heck no and thank the literary gods for that because it was a hate --> love slow burn, just the way it should be. Did it manhandle and overtake the entire plot you might ask? I'm happy to report that it was just the right amount of Amore. Though there were no sexy-time scenes the rapport was sweet yet palpable. Did I mention the writing? WELL the writing turned out to be far from trite. It was compelling and sonorous though not so cutesy as to be nauseatingly saccharine. I also loved the riddles, especially the last one, they were well worded and helped move the plot in a fun way. I have to admit that I have not read the Remnant Chronicles (yet) but after having been gifted and then devouring this book I will definitely be checking out the previous series which happens to be set in the same world AND what a world it is!! There are assassins and cowboys and dirty captains/magistrates/cousins/kings(?!?) et al. There is Love and betrayal and devious machinations abound AND did you say you like your characters armed and dangerous? If you're in the market for some kickass female characters then this book is for you! The world building is lush and the characters are expertly crafted. I loved SO many of them I won't give a list BUT I will give honorable mention to our two MCs, our dueling POV voices, swoon worthy Jase and our uncommon thief Kazi...they were both beatific/ relatable/damaged/imperfectly human and their trials (as well as their budding affection for one another) felt torturous...in a good way. Overall, this was such a happy surprise that I am both kicking myself for not reading it sooner and glowing because I got to savor it longer. I dreaded reaching the end and MAN what an ending it was! Warning: there is a cliffhanger so if you are not into stewing in a batch of What-if(s) for a while then maybe you should wait until the next book is out before starting this one...BUT definitely start this at some point, you won't be disappointed!! Personally I'm going to sit in a corner and stew until August 2019 when book #2, Vow of Thieves, comes out.~Enjoy*** I received a copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review ***
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was such a fun read and I cannot wait to continue with this series.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Overall this was a good book. When I picked it up, I was unaware that it was a spinoff of another series. It was certainly a stand alone novel, but probably would have been more relatable had I read the other series first. The political intrigue was good, and while it was a page turner, the plot felt a bit lacking and the romance a bit forced. There is nothing specific in this book that I can pick out that I didn't like, other than that it was advertised as "enemies to lovers" and they were already "lovers" about 50 pages in. yet for some reason it just seemed a bit lack luster to me. My best guess is that I didn't love it because I had just come off of a reading high from another series, and as still mourning the loss of those characters. Overall, a good book but it didn't make my "most loved" list by any means.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Pure brilliance. Intriguing plot, brilliant characters, and great romance. If you have some great stories like this one, you can publish it on Novel Star, just submit your story to [email protected] or [email protected] - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Listened to this as an audiobook and thoroughly enjoyed the narration. The tumultuous relationship of Kazi and Jase as well as the intrigue of who is plotting to bring down whom make this a very entertaining listen.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5loved this novel by an author I was not aware of. I liked and Kazi, the a former street thief who's sent by the queen the investigate transgression against her regime. When Jase and Kazi finally meet, it is very hard to control their feelings for each other, and events take over. I can't await to read book two!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A formidable outlaw family that claims to be the first among nations. A son destined to lead, thrust suddenly into power. Three fierce young women of the Rahtan, the queen's premier guard. A legendary street thief leading a mission, determined to prove herself. A dark secret that is a threat to the entire continent. When outlaw leader meets reformed thief, a cat-and-mouse game of false moves ensues, bringing them intimately together in a battle that may cost them their lives--and their hearts.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Oh I love Ms Pearson's writing. She has such talent for building worlds with unforgettable characters. The characters are well developed, complex and vulnerable. Just the way I like them. The words are spun so visually reading them is like watching a movie. Thrilling, edge of my seat action, heartbreak, romance, and some fun.This book follows in the world of The Remnant Chronicles, the author's previous series which loved. Some years have passed, and there are a few crossover characters. The heroine, is a elite guard for the Queen, who has a vary sorted, sad past. She struggles with her demons while trying to keep her promises to her queen. The male lead is a strong, honest man who is thrust into his role as head of a country when his father suddenly dies. She expresses her superiority in a public way and he tries to teach her a lesson that backfires on them both. They find themselves chained together as slaves, the sparks fly hot and mistrusting. being chain together, needing each other can bring two together or scar them forever. The beginning of tale has just begun at this point, it goes so much farther.I can not wait to see where these characters go in the next book.Thank You NetGalley and Henry Holt & Company for the review copy
Book preview
Dance of Thieves - Mary E. Pearson
CHAPTER ONE
KAZIMYRAH OF BRIGHTMIST
The ghosts are still here.
The words lingered in the air, each one a shimmering spirit, cold whispers of caution, but I wasn’t afraid.
I already knew.
The ghosts, they never go away. They call to you in unexpected moments, their hands lacing with yours and pulling you down paths that lead nowhere. This way. I had learned to mostly shut them out.
We rode through Sentinel Valley, ruins of the Ancients looking down upon us. My horse’s ears pricked, watchful, a rumble deep from his throat. He knew too. I rubbed his neck to calm him. It had been six years since the Great Battle, but the scars were still visible—overturned wagons eaten up with grass, scattered bones dug from graves by hungry beasts, the skeletal ribs of giant brezalots reaching skyward, birds perched on their elegant bleached cages.
I felt the ghosts hovering, watching, wondering. One of them slid a cool fingertip along my jaw, pressing a warning to my lips, Shhh, Kazi, don’t say a word.
Natiya led us deeper into the valley, unafraid. Our gazes scanned the rugged cliffs and the crumbling devastation of a war that was slowly being consumed by earth, time, and memory, like the awkward swallowing of a fat hare by a patient snake. Soon, all the destruction would be in the belly of the earth. Who would remember?
Midway, as the valley narrowed, Natiya stopped and slipped from her saddle, pulling a folded square of white cloth from her saddlebag. Wren dismounted too, her thin limbs gliding to the ground as silently as a bird. Synové hesitated, watching me uncertainly. She was strongest of us all, but her round hips remained firmly planted in her saddle. She did not care for talk of ghosts, even in the brightness of a high sun. They frequented her dreams too often. I nodded to reassure her, and we both slid from our horses and joined them. Natiya paused at a large green mound as if she knew what lay beneath the woven blanket of grass. She absently rubbed the fabric between her delicate brown fingers. It was only for a few seconds, but it seemed to last forever. Natiya was nineteen, only two years older than us, but she suddenly looked much older. She had actually seen the things we had only heard stories about. Her head shook slightly, and she walked toward a scattered pile of rocks. She began picking up the fallen stones and puzzling them back into place on the humble memorial.
Who was it?
I asked.
Her lips rolled tight against her teeth. His name was Jeb. His body was burned on a funeral pyre because that’s the Dalbretch way, but I buried his few belongings here.
Because that’s the vagabond way, I thought, but said nothing. Natiya didn’t talk much about her life before she became Vendan and a Rahtan, but I didn’t talk much about my earlier life either. Some things were better left in the past. Wren and Synové shifted uncomfortably on their feet, their boots pressing the grass into small, flat circles. Natiya wasn’t prone to sentimental displays, even if they were quiet ones like this, especially if they delayed her well-planned schedule. But now she lingered, just like her words that had ushered us into the valley. They are still here.
He was special?
I asked.
She nodded. They all were. But Jeb taught me things. Things that have helped me to survive.
She turned, giving us a sharp glance. "Things I have taught all of you. Hopefully." Her scrutiny softened, and her thick black lashes cast a shadow beneath her dark eyes. She studied the three of us as if she were a seasoned general and we were her ragtag soldiers. In some ways, I supposed we were. We were the youngest of the Rahtan, but we were Rahtan. That meant something. It meant a lot. We were the queen’s premier guard. We didn’t rise to these positions because we were bumbling fools. Not most of the time, anyway. We had training and talents. Natiya’s gaze rested on me the longest. I was lead on this mission, responsible for making not just the right decisions, but perfect ones. That meant not only achieving success, but keeping everyone safe too.
We’ll be fine,
I promised.
Fine,
Wren agreed, impatiently blowing a dark curl from her forehead. She wanted to be on her way. The anticipation was wearing on all of us.
Synové anxiously twisted one of her long persimmon braids between her fingers. Perfectly fine. We’re—
I know,
Natiya said, putting her hand up to stop Synové from embarking on a long explanation. Fine. Just remember, spend some time at the settlement first. Hell’s Mouth comes after. Only ask questions. Gather information. Get what supplies you need. Keep a low profile until we get there.
Wren snorted. A low profile was certainly one of my specialties, but not this time. Getting into trouble was my goal for a change.
Galloping broke the tense exchange. Natiya!
We turned toward Eben, his horse kicking up soft clods of grass. Synové’s eyes brightened like the sun had just winked at her from behind a cloud. He circled around, his eyes fixed only on Natiya. Griz is grumbling. He wants to leave.
Coming,
she answered, then shook out the square of fabric she was holding. It was a shirt. A very handsome shirt. She touched the soft fabric to her cheek, then laid it over the rock memorial. Cruvas linen, Jeb,
she whispered. The finest.
* * *
We reached the mouth of the valley, and Natiya stopped and looked back one last time. Remember this,
she said. Twenty thousand. That’s how many died here in a single day. Vendans, Morrighese, and Dalbretch. I didn’t know them all, but someone did. Someone who would bring a meadow flower to them if they could.
Or a Cruvas linen shirt.
Now I knew why Natiya had brought us here. This was by the queen’s order. Look. Take a good long look and remember the lives lost. Real people that someone loved. Before you go about the task I have given you, see the devastation and remember what they did. What could happen again. Know what is at stake. Dragons eventually wake and crawl from their dark dens.
I had seen the urgency in the queen’s eyes. I had heard it in her voice. This wasn’t only about the past. She feared for the future. Something was brewing, and she was desperate to stop it.
I surveyed the valley. From a distance, the bones and wagons blended back into a calm sea of green, hiding the truth.
Nothing was ever quite what it seemed.
* * *
Griz’s grumbling to break camp was nothing new. He liked to make camp early and leave early, sometimes even when it was still dark, as if it were some sort of victory over the sun. His horse was already packed when we returned, and the campfire doused. He watched impatiently as the rest of us buckled up bedrolls and bags.
An hour’s ride from here, we would go our separate ways. Griz was headed to Civica in Morrighan. The queen had news she wanted to share with her brother, the king, and she trusted no one else to deliver it, not even the Valsprey she used for other messages. Valsprey could be attacked by other birds or shot down and messages intercepted, whereas nothing could stop Griz. Except, perhaps, a quick side trip to Terravin, which was probably why he was in such a hurry. Synové liked to tease that he had a sweetheart there. It always made him explode in denial. Griz was old-school Rahtan, but the Rahtan was not the elite, rule-bound ten it once was. There were twenty of us now. A lot of things had changed since the queen came to power, including me.
When I began folding my tent, Griz came and stood over my shoulder and watched. I was the only one who used a tent. It was small. It didn’t take up much room. He had balked the first time he had seen me use one on a mission to a southern province. We don’t use tents, he’d said with utter distaste. I remembered the shame I felt. In the weeks that followed, I turned that humiliation to determination. Weakness made you a target, and I had promised myself, long ago, I would never be a target again. I buried my shame deep beneath carefully crafted armor. Insults couldn’t penetrate it.
Griz’s brooding stature cast a mountainous shadow over me. Doesn’t my folding technique meet with your approval?
I asked.
He said nothing.
I turned and looked up at him. "What is it, Griz?" I snapped.
He rubbed his bristled chin. "There’s a lot of open territory between here and Hell’s Mouth. Empty, flat territory."
Your point?
"You’ll be … all right?"
I stood, shoving my folded tent into his belly. He took it from me. I’ve got this, Griz. Relax.
His head bobbed in a hesitant nod.
The real question is,
I added, long and drawn out for effect, "do you?"
He eyed me, his brow furrowed in a question, and then he scowled, reaching for his side.
I smiled and held his short dagger out to him.
His scowl turned to a reluctant grin, and he replaced the dagger in its empty sheath. His bushy brows lifted, and he shook his head in approval. Stay downwind, Ten.
Ten, my hard-won nickname. It was his acknowledgment of confidence. I wiggled my fingertips in appreciation.
No one, especially not Griz, would ever forget how I had earned it.
You mean upwind, don’t you?
Eben called.
I glared at Eben. And no one, especially not Eben, would ever forget that my life as Rahtan began the day I spit in the queen’s face.
CHAPTER TWO
KAZI
The queen had been walking the narrow, dirty streets of the Brightmist quarter when I spotted her. I hadn’t planned it, but even events unplanned can whisk us down paths that we never expected to travel, changing our destinies and what defines us. Kazimyrah: orphan, invisible street rat, girl who defied the queen, Rahtan.
I had already been shoved down one path when I was six, and the day I spit in the new queen’s face I was sent reeling down another. That moment had not only defined my future, but the queen’s unexpected response—a smile—had defined her reign. Her sword hung ready in the scabbard at her side. A breathless crowd had waited to see what would happen. They knew what would have happened before. If she were the Komizar, I would have already been lying headless on the ground. Her smile had frightened me more than if she had drawn her sword. I knew at that moment, with certainty, that the old Venda I knew how to navigate was gone, and I would never get it back again. I hated her for it.
When she learned I had no family to summon, she told the guards who had grabbed me to bring me along to Sanctum Hall. I thought I was so very clever back then. Too clever for this young queen. I was eleven years of grit and grovel by then, and impervious to an interloper. I would outwit her just as I did everyone else. It was my realm after all. I had all my fingertips—and a reputation to go with them. In the streets of Venda, they called me Ten
with whispered respect.
A complete set of fingers was legendary for a thief, or an alleged thief, because if I had ever been caught with stolen goods, my nickname would have been Nine. The eight quarterlords who dispensed the punishment for stealing had a different name for me. To them, I was the Shadowmaker, because even at high noon, they swore, I could conjure a shadow to swallow me up. A few even rubbed hidden amulets when they saw me coming. But just as useful as the shadows was knowing the strategies of street politics and personalities. I perfected my craft, playing the quarterlords and merchants against one another as if I was a musician and they were crude drums rumbling beneath my hands, making one boast to another that I had never pulled anything over on him, making them all feel so very smart, even as I relieved them of items I could put to better use elsewhere. Their egos were my accomplices. The twisting alleyways, tunnels, and catwalks were where I learned my trade, and my stomach was my relentless taskmaster. But there was another kind of hunger that drove me too, a hunger for answers that were not as easily plucked from the wares of a bloated lord. That was my deeper, darker taskmaster.
But because of the queen, almost overnight I witnessed my world dissolving. I had starved and clawed my way to this position. No one was going to take it from me. The cramped, winding streets of Venda were all I had ever known, and its underworld was all I understood. Its members were a desperate coalition who appreciated the warmth of horse dung in winter, a knife in a burlap sack and the trail of spilled grain it left behind, the scowl of a duped merchant realizing he was short an egg in his basket—or, if I was feeling punitive, the whole chicken who had laid it. I had walked away with bigger and noisier things.
I liked to say I stole only because of hunger, but it wasn’t true. Sometimes I stole from the quarterlords just to make their miserable lives more miserable. It made me wonder, if I ever became a quarterlord, would I cut off fingers to secure my place of power? Because power, I had learned, could be just as seductive as a warm loaf of bread, and the small bit I wielded over them was sometimes all the food I needed.
With new treaties signed among the kingdoms allowing settlement of the Cam Lanteux, one by one those whom I thieved for and with left to go live in wide-open spaces to begin new lives. I became a plucked bird flapping featherless wings, suddenly useless, but moving to a farming settlement in the middle of nowhere was something I would not do. It was something I could not do. I learned this when I was nine and had traveled just a short distance beyond the Sanctum walls in search of answers that had eluded me. When I looked back at the disappearing city and saw that I was a mere speck in an empty landscape, I couldn’t breathe and the sky swirled in dizzy currents. It hit me like a smothering wave. There was nowhere to hide. No shadows to melt into, no tent flaps to duck behind or stairs to disappear under—there were no beds to hide beneath in case someone came for me. There was no place to escape to at all. The structure of my world was gone—the floor, the ceilings, the walls—and I floated loose, untethered. I barely made it back to the city and never left again.
I knew I would not survive in a world of open sky. Spitting in the queen’s face had been my futile stab at saving the existence I had carved out. My life had already been stolen once. I refused to let it happen again, but it happened just the same. Some rising tides cannot be held back, and the new world slipped around my ankles like water at the shore and pulled me into its current.
My first months in Sanctum Hall were turbulent. Why no one strangled me I still wasn’t certain. I would have. I stole everything in sight, and out of sight, and hoarded it in a secret passage beneath the East Tower staircase. No one’s private chambers were immune. Natiya’s favorite scarf, Eben’s boots, the cook’s wooden spoons, swords, belts, books, armory halberds, the queen’s hairbrush. Sometimes I gave them back, sometimes I didn’t, bestowing mercies like a capricious queen. Griz roared and chased me through the halls the third time I stole his razor.
Finally, one morning, the queen applauded me as I walked into the Council gallery, saying it was evident I had mastered thieving, but it was time I learned additional skills.
She rose and handed me a sword I had stolen.
I locked eyes with her, wondering how she had gotten hold of it. I know that passage well too, Kazimyrah. You aren’t the only sneak in the Sanctum. Let’s put this to better use than rusting in a dark, damp stairwell, shall we?
For the first time, I didn’t resist.
I wanted to learn more. I didn’t just want to possess the swords, knives, and maces I had acquired. I wanted to know how to use them too, and use them well.
* * *
The landscape was getting flatter now, as if huge hands had anticipated our passing and smoothed out the wrinkles of hills. The same hands must have plucked the hills clean of ruins. It was strange to see nothing. I had never traveled long on any path where some evidence of an earlier world wasn’t in view. The Ancients’ ruins were plentiful, but here there wasn’t so much as a single crumbling wall to cast a measly shadow. Nothing but open sky and unfettered wind pressing on my chest. I forced in deep, full breaths, focusing on a point in the distance, pretending it held a magical shadowed city waiting to greet me.
Griz had stopped and was conferring with Eben and Natiya about meet-up sites. It was time to part ways. When he was finished, he turned and cast a suspicious eye at the vastness ahead of us like he was searching for something. His gaze finally landed on me. I stretched and smiled as if I were enjoying a summer outing. The sun was high and threw sharp shadows across his battle-scarred face. The lines around his eyes deepened.
One other thing. Watch your backs through this stretch. I lost two years of my life near here because I wasn’t looking over my shoulder.
He told us how he and an officer from Dalbreck had been pounced upon by labor hunters and dragged off to work in a mining camp.
We’re well armed,
Wren reminded him.
And there’s Synové,
I added. You’ve got this covered, right, Syn?
She fluttered her eyes like she was seeing a vision, and nodded. Got it.
Then she flicked her fingers in a sweeping motion and whispered happily, Now go enjoy your time with your sweetheart.
Griz bellowed and threw his hand in the air, waving away the notion. He mumbled a curse as he rode away.
We managed to depart with no further instructions from Natiya. It had all been laid out already, both the ruse and the real. Eben and Natiya were going south to Parsuss, the seat of Eislandia, to speak with the king and make him aware we were intervening on his soil. He was a farmer first, like most Eislandians, and his entire army consisted of a few dozen guards who were also laborers in his fields. He was short on resources to deal with disturbances. Griz had also described the king as meek, more of a handwringer than a neck one, and at a loss for how to control his distant northern territories. The queen was sure he wouldn’t object, but she was bound by protocol to inform him. It was a diplomatic precaution in case something went wrong.
But nothing would go wrong. I had promised her.
Even then, the Eislandian king would only be told the ruse of our visit, not our real mission. That was too closely guarded a secret, not to be shared even with the ruling monarch.
I tucked the map away and nudged my horse forward in the direction of Hell’s Mouth. Synové looked back, watching Eben and Natiya go their own way, judging how far apart they rode and whether they were exchanging words. Why she had an affection for him I didn’t know, but there had been others. Synové was in love with love. As soon as they were out of earshot, she asked, Do you think they’ve done it?
Wren groaned.
I was hoping she meant something else, but I asked anyway. Who did what?
"Eben and Natiya. You know, it."
You’re the one with the knowing,
Wren said. You should know.
"I have dreams, Synové corrected.
And if you both tried a little harder, you’d have dreams too. Her shoulders shivered with distaste.
But that’s one dream I don’t care to have."
She does have a point,
I said to Wren. Some things shouldn’t be imagined or dreamed.
Wren shrugged. I’ve never seen them kiss.
Or even hold hands,
Synové added.
But neither is exactly the affectionate type either,
I reminded them.
Synové’s brow squiggled in contemplation, none of us saying what we all knew. Eben and Natiya were devoted to each other—in a very passionate way. I suspected they had done far more than kissing, though it wasn’t something I dwelled upon. I really didn’t care or want to know. In some ways, I supposed I was like Griz. We were Rahtan first, and there was time for little else. It only created complications. My few brief dalliances with soldiers I had pledged with only led to distractions that I decided I didn’t need—the risky kind, ones that stirred a longing in me and made me think about a future that couldn’t be counted on.
We rode along, with Synové doing most of the talking, as she always did, filling the hours with multiple observations, whether it was the waving grass brushing our horses’ fetlocks or the salty leek soup her aunt used to make. I knew at least part of the reason she did it was to distract me from a flat, empty world that sometimes bobbed and weaved and threatened to fold me into its open mouth. Sometimes her chatter worked. Sometimes I distracted myself in other ways.
Wren suddenly put her hand out as warning and signaled us to stop. Riders. Third bell,
she said. The sharp edge of her ziethe sliced the air as she drew and spun it, ready. Synové was already nocking an arrow.
In the distance, a dark cloud skimmed the plain, growing larger as it sped toward us. I drew my sword, but then suddenly the dark cloud veered upward, into the sky. It flew close over our heads, a writhing antelope in its claws. The wind from the creature’s wings lifted our hair, and we all instinctively ducked. The horses reared. In a split second, the creature was already gone.
"Jabavé! Wren growled as we worked to calm our horses.
What the hell was that?"
Griz had neglected to warn us about this. I had heard of these creatures, a rumor really, but thought they were only in the far north country above Infernaterr. Apparently not today.
Racaa,
Synové answered. One of the birds that eat Valsprey. I don’t think they eat humans.
"Think? Wren yelled. Her brown cheeks glowed with fury.
You’re not sure? How much different could we taste than an antelope?"
I slid my sword back into its scabbard. Different enough, we can hope.
Wren recomposed herself, putting her ziethe away. She wore two of them, one on each hip, and kept them razor sharp. She was more than capable of taking on two-legged attackers, but a winged attack required a moment of reassessment. I saw the calculations spinning in her mind. I could have taken it down.
No doubt. Wren had the tenacity of a cornered badger.
The demons that drove her were as demanding as mine, and she had honed her skills to a sharp, unforgiving edge. She had watched her family slaughtered in Blackstone Square when her clan made the deadly mistake of cheering for a stolen princess. The same with Synové, and though Syn played the cheerful innocent, there was a lethal undercurrent that ran through her. She had killed more raiders than Wren and I put together. Seven by last count.
With her arrow back in its quiver, Synové resumed her chatter. At least for the rest of our ride she had something else to talk about. Racaa were a whole new diversion.
But the racaa’s shadow sent my thoughts tumbling in another direction. By this time next week, it would be us swooping down on Hell’s Mouth, casting our own shadow, and if all went well, within a short time I would be departing with something far more vital than an antelope in my claws.
Six years ago a war was waged, the bloodiest the continent had ever seen. Thousands died, but only a handful of men were its architects. One of those men was still alive, and some thought he was the worst—the Watch Captain of the citadelle in Morrighan. He betrayed the very kingdom he had sworn to protect, and slowly infiltrated the fortress with enemy soldiers in order to weaken Morrighan and help it to fall. Some soldiers who had been under his command had simply disappeared, maybe because they became suspicious. Their bodies were never found. His crimes were numerous. Among them, helping to poison the king and murder the crown prince and thirty-two of his comrades. The Watch Captain had been the most hunted fugitive on the continent ever since.
He had twice escaped the kingdoms’ clutches, and then he seemed to have vanished completely. No one had seen him in five years, but now a chance sighting and a merchant eager to share information had become a hopeful lead. He gave over his own kingdom, the queen had told me, and the lives of thousands to feed his greed for more. Hungry dragons may sleep for years, but they do not change their eating habits. He must be found. The dead demand justice, as do the living.
Even before I visited the valley of dead, I already knew the cost of lurking dragons, ones who crept through the night, crashing into a world and devouring whatever pleased them. The queen’s fugitive would pay because he stole dreams and lives without ever looking back, not caring about the destruction he left in his wake. Some dragons might slip away forever, but if Captain Illarion, who betrayed his countrymen and brought about the death of thousands, was there, Tor’s Watch could not hide him. I would steal him away, and he would pay—before his hunger killed more.
I need you, Kazimyrah. I believe in you. The queen’s belief in me had meant everything.
It was a job I was uniquely qualified for, and this mission was an undeserved chance to redeem myself. A year ago, I’d made a mistake that almost cost me my life and put a blemish on the near perfect record of the queen’s premier guard. Rahtan meant never fail,
but I had failed dismally. Hardly a day passed that I didn’t think of it.
When I had mistaken an ambassador from Reux Lau for someone else, it had unleashed something wild and feral in me that I didn’t know was there—or maybe it was a wounded animal I had been secretly feeding for a long time. My hands and legs were not my own, and they propelled me forward. I hadn’t intended to stab him, at least not immediately, but he lunged unexpectedly. He survived my attack. Luckily my knife hadn’t slashed deeply. His wound only required a few stitches. Our whole crew was arrested and thrown in prison. As soon as it was determined I acted alone, they were released—but I sat in a prison cell in a southern province for two months. It took the queen herself to smooth it over and obtain my release.
Those months gave me a lot of time to think. In a split second, I had abandoned my control and patience—the very things I took pride in and that had saved my skin for years. And maybe worse, the mistake made me question my own memory. Maybe I didn’t remember his face anymore. Maybe it was gone like so many other memories that had faded, and that possibility terrified me even more. If I didn’t remember, he could be anywhere and anyone.
Once we returned, it was Eben who told the queen about my past. I didn’t know how he even knew. I had never told anyone, and no one really cared about where a street rat came from. There were too many of us.
The queen had called me into her private chamber. Why didn’t you tell me about your mother, Kazimyrah?
My heart beat madly, and a sick, salty taste crawled up my throat. I forced it down and locked my knees, afraid they might buckle.
There’s nothing to tell. My mother is dead.
Are you certain she’s dead?
In my heart I was certain, and I prayed to the gods every day that she was.
If the gods are merciful.
The queen asked if we might talk about it. I knew she was only trying to help me, and I did owe her a fuller explanation after all she had done for me, but this was a confused knot of memory and anger I hadn’t untangled myself yet. I excused myself without answering her.
When I left her chamber, I cornered Eben in the stairwell and lashed out. Stay out of my business, Eben! Do you hear me? Stay out!
You mean stay out of your past. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Kazi. You were six years old. It’s not your fault that your—
Shut up, Eben! Don’t ever bring up my mother again or I’ll slit your throat and it will happen so quickly and quietly, you won’t even know you’re dead.
His arm shot out, and he blocked my way so I couldn’t pass. You need to confront your demons, Kazi.
I lunged at him, but I was out of control and he wasn’t. He expected my attack and whirled me around, pinning me to his chest, squeezing me so tightly I couldn’t breathe even as I railed against him.
"I understand, Kazi. Believe me, I understand what you feel," he had whispered in my ear.
I raged. I screamed. No one could understand. Especially not Eben. I hadn’t yet come to grips with the memories he stirred. He couldn’t know that every time I looked at his stringy black mop of hair hanging over his eyes, or his pale, bloodless skin, or his dark, menacing gaze, all I saw was the Previzi driver who had crept into my hovel in the middle of the night, holding a lantern in the darkness asking, Where is the brat? All I saw was myself cowering in a pool of my own waste, too afraid to move. I was not afraid anymore.
You’ve been given a second chance, Kazi. Don’t throw it away. The queen stuck her neck out for you. She can only do that so many times. You’re not powerless anymore. You can make other things right.
He held me tight until there was no struggle left in me. I was weak when I finally pulled free, still angry, and I skulked away to hide in a dark passage of the Sanctum where no one could find me.
I learned later from Natiya that maybe Eben did understand. He was five when he witnessed an ax being planted in his mother’s chest and he watched while his father was burned alive. His family had tried to settle in the Cam Lanteux before there were treaties to protect them. He was too young to identify who did it or even to know what kingdom they were from. Finding justice was impossible for him, but his parents’ deaths remained etched in his memory. As I got to know Eben better and worked with him more, I no longer saw the Previzi driver when I looked at him. I just saw Eben along with his own quirks and habits—and someone who had his own scarred past.
Make other things right.
It was a turning point for me, yet another new start. More than anything I wanted to prove my loyalties to someone who had not only given me a second chance, but had also given all of Venda a second chance. The queen.
There was one thing I could never make right.
But maybe there were other things that I could.
Gather close, my brothers and sisters.
We have touched the stars,
And the dust of possibility is ours.
But the work is never over.
Time circles. Repeats.
We must ever be watchful.
Though the Dragon rests for now,
He will wake again
And roam the earth,
His belly ripe with hunger.
And so shall it be,
For evermore.
—The Song of Jezelia
CHAPTER THREE
JASE BALLENGER
As far as you can see, this land is ours. Never forget that. It was my father’s and his father’s before that. This is Ballenger territory and always has been, all the way back to the Ancients. We are the first family, and every bird that flies overhead, every breath that is taken, every drop of water that falls, it all belongs to us. We make the laws here. We own whatever you can see. Never let one handful of soil slip through your fingers, or you will lose it all.
I placed my father’s hand at his side. His skin was cold, his fingers stiff. He’d been dead for hours. It seemed impossible. Only four days ago, he’d been healthy and strong, and then he gripped his chest as he got up on his horse and collapsed. The seer said an enemy had cast a spell. The healer said it was his heart and nothing could be done. Whichever it was, in a matter of days, he was gone.
A dozen empty chairs still circled his bed, the vigil ended. The sounds of long good-byes had turned to silent disbelief. I pushed back my chair and stepped out to the balcony, drawing in a deep breath. The hills reached in hazy scallops to the horizon. Not one handful, I had promised him.
The others waited for me to emerge from the room wearing his ring. Now my ring. The weight of his last words flowed through me, as strong and powerful as Ballenger blood. I surveyed the endless landscape that was ours. I knew every hill, every canyon, every bluff and river. As far as you can see. It all looked different now. I backed away from the balcony. The challenges would come soon. They always did when a Ballenger died, as if one less in our numbers would topple us. News would reach the multiple leagues scattered beyond our borders. It was a bad time for him to die. First harvests were rolling in, the Previzi were demanding a greater take of their loads, and Fertig had asked for my sister’s hand in marriage. She was still deciding. I didn’t like Fertig, but I loved my sister. I shook my head and pushed away from the rail. Patrei. It was up to me now. I’d keep my vow. The family would stand strong, as we always had.
I pulled my knife from its sheath and returned to my father’s bed. I cut the ring from his swollen finger, slipped it on to my own, and walked out to a hallway full of waiting faces.
They looked at my hand, traces of my father’s blood on the ring. It was done.
A rumble of solemn acknowledgement sounded.
Come on,
I said. It’s time to get drunk.
* * *
Our steps echoed through the main hall with singular purpose as more than a dozen of us headed toward the door. My mother stepped out from the west antechamber and asked me where I was going.
Tavern. Before the news is everywhere.
She slapped me on the side of the head. "The news was out four days ago, fool. The vultures sniff death before it arrives and circle just as quickly. They’ll be picking at our bones by next week. Now go! Alms at the temple first. Then you can go drink yourself blind. And keep your straza at your sides. These are uncertain times!" She shot a warning glower at my brothers too, and they dutifully nodded. Her gaze turned back at me, still iron, thorns, and fire, clear, but I knew behind them a wall had been painfully built. Even when my brother and sister died, she didn’t cry, but channeled her tears into a new cistern for the temple instead. She looked down at the ring on my finger. Her head bobbed slightly. I knew it unsettled her to see it on my hand after twenty-five years of seeing it on my father’s. Together, they had strengthened the Ballenger Dynasty. They had eleven children together, nine of us still living, plus an adopted son, a promise that their world would only grow stronger. That is what she focused on, instead of what she had lost prematurely. She lifted my hand to her lips, kissed the ring, then pushed me out the door.
As we walked down the porch steps, Titus whispered under his breath, Alms first, fool!
I shoved him with my shoulder, and the others laughed as he tumbled down the steps. They were ready for a night of trouble. A night of forgetting. Watching someone die, someone who was as full of life as my father, who should have had years ahead of him, was a reminder that death looked over all our shoulders.
My eldest brother, Gunner, sidled close as we walked to our waiting horses. Paxton will come.
I nodded. But he’ll take his time.
He’s afraid of you.
Not afraid enough.
Mason clapped me on the back. "Hell with Paxton. He won’t come until the entombment, if he comes at all. For now, we just need to get you snot drunk, Patrei."
I was ready. I needed this as much as Mason and everyone else. I needed it to be over with and all of us moving on. As weak as my father had been before he died, he managed to say a lot in his last breaths. It was my duty to hear every word and vow my allegiance even if he’d said it all before—and he had. He’d been telling me my whole life. It was tattooed inside my gut as much as the Ballenger seal was tattooed across my shoulder. The family dynasty—those both blood and embraced—was safe. Still, his final labored instructions dug through me. He hadn’t been prepared to let go of the reins this soon. The Ballengers bow to no one. Make her come. The others will notice. That part might prove a little harder.
The other vultures who came circling, hoping to take over our territory, were what I needed to crush first, Paxton foremost among them. It didn’t matter that he was my cousin—he was still the misbegotten progeny of my long-ago uncle who had betrayed his own family. Paxton controlled the smaller territory of Ráj Nivad in the south, but it wasn’t enough for him. Like the rest of his bloodline, he was consumed by jealousies and greed. Still, he was blood and would come to pay honor to my father—and to calculate our strength. Ráj Nivad was a four-day ride from here. He hadn’t heard anything yet, and if he had, it would take him just as long to get here. I had time to prepare.
Our straza shouted to the tower, and they in turned called down to the gate guards, clearing our passage. The heavy metal gates creaked open, and we rode through. I felt the eyes on me, on my hand. Patrei.
Hell’s Mouth sat in the valley just below Tor’s Watch, only parts of it visible through the canopy of tembris trees that circled it like a crown. I had told my father once that I was going to climb to the top of every one. I was eight years old and didn’t realize how far they reached into the heavens, even after my father told me the top of the tembris was the realm of the gods, not men. I didn’t make it far, certainly not to the top. No one ever had. And as high as the trees stretched, the roots reached to the foundations of the earth. They were the only thing more rooted in this land than the Ballengers.
Once we were at the base of the hill, Gunner shouted and took off ahead of the pack. The rest of us followed, the trampling of hooves pounding in our bones. We liked to make our arrivals into town well