Prince of Swords

CHAPTER 1

Sister. It’s the only word Ravin said that I can hear with perfect clarity.

My ears ring. Pain ricochets through my body. My breathing is ragged and thin.

Put her with her sister, Ravin decreed.

Arina is alive.

The Stellis knights hold my arms, but I manage to nearly lurch out of their ironclad grip. They weren’t expecting me to have any strength left after Ravin’s beating. Truthfully, neither was I. But the mention of my sister being alive awakens a strength in me that defies every expectation.

The two Stellis recover quickly and take a step closer to box me in. Though their grip on my arms is unyielding, still they strain to keep me in their grasp as I struggle.

“Where is she?” My words are raspy and venomous.

The firstborn prince and heir of the Oricalis Kingdom turns his attention back to me. How had I never noticed the lifelessness of his eyes before? He’d been hiding in plain sight: the Major Arcana of Death.

“You really are dense, aren’t you?” he says. “You’re going to see her again, and soon. She’s waiting for you in the dungeons of Halazar.” His lips curve into a terrifying smile. Ravin crosses the gap and in an instant is standing way too close to me for comfort. He leans forward, hands folded at the small of his back. His cheek glides next to mine. “And I am going to have so much fun with the two of you. I’ll make sure that you can hear each other’s screams. Maybe I’ll even let you watch.”

I lunge again. My shoulders strain against the Stellis’s grip. I will dislocate them to get to him. I’m unarmed—­my deck is spent. But who needs magic when you have rage?

Ravin tries to get away but he’s not fast enough. My teeth close around his ear. There’s already so much blood in my mouth that I hardly taste his. He pulls away and grabs at his wound. I spit out a tiny chunk of his ear.

Amusement flashes in his eyes. “I can see why my brother liked you.” He purrs, and the sound makes me gag. Ravin outright laughs at my reaction. “Oh, you’re going to be fun to break. Take her to the docks.”

The Stellis carry me out the door, stepping on Bristara’s body. I will not allow them to force me to deface her memory. I go limp in their arms and lift only my feet.

I’m certain that one day I will cry for her—­for my hand in her death. I chose to spin the Wheel of Fortune, and it shifted our fates. A death that had been intended for me was instead cast upon her. But the most bitter pill to swallow is that it didn’t have to happen. Ravin’s Death card wouldn’t have worked on me to begin with.

But the Wheel of Fortune is unpredictable. Change fate, and it’s impossible to know where you’ll end up. I ended up alive, and Bristara—­founder of the Starcrossed Club, our guide, our guardian—­ended up dead. And all the secrets she held about my family and the organization she and my mother once belonged to are gone with her.

We emerge onto the narrow walkway between the buildings that leads to the Starcrossed Club’s townhome. The Stellis throw me against the wall, pinning me down by the throat and shackling me. Attached to the chain between the cuffs is a lead. The guard pulls it taut and jerks me forward like I am a dog on a leash.

Behind me, Ravin emerges from the townhome. He makes it a point to step on Bristara’s back as well and pauses there while he gives orders. My rage turns cold. He glances my way, as though to check that he’s gotten a rise out of me, but I don’t visibly react. I will not give him the satisfaction of my pain.

A Stellis rushes out of the doorway. “They closed up the passageways behind them,” the man reports. “We could try breaking through, but it would take some time to determine where the tunnels connect through the rock.”

“No, the rats have abandoned this place. They’ve scurried back to their den. We will smoke them out in time. I’ve just the person for the job.” Ravin reviews the front façade of the townhome as one would a bookshelf. As though a hundred options are before him when we both know which one he’s going to pick. “Burn it.”

If he expected a reaction, he’s not getting one from that, either.

The rest of the Stellis clear from the house. The last of them holds up a King of Wands. He must be powerful to wield the ultimate card of a suit.

The card bursts into flame, turning to ash between the man’s fingers. He slumps, relying on one of his comrades for support, the card leaving him spent. Simultaneously, the building ignites.

For a moment, we all just stand there. I assume Ravin is forcing me to linger here—­forcing me to watch another home reduced to cinder and rubble at his hand—­to be cruel.

He doesn’t realize what he’s offering me is an act of kindness.

The last time he destroyed the Starcrossed Club, I was gone. When I returned, my homecoming was ripped from me without warning. It left me with a hollow in my gut and more questions than answers.

This time, I watch what was once Bristara’s home become her pyre. I watch what was once my home, too—­even if I was too young when I occupied it to possess memories of it—­burn and crack and smolder, disappearing as smoke and ash on the wind.

The Starcrossed Club’s sky has fallen. Its stars are scattered and wayward, the constellations that connected us broken. Gregor, Jura, Twino, Ren . . . Will I ever see them again?

“To Halazar.” Ravin strides past me. But then he stops and locks eyes with me. “Are you going to be a good girl? Or do I need to gag you?”

I don’t want to be anything resembling Ravin’s “good girl.” Especially not when he says it in that condescending way of his . . . But I want a gag even less. My jaw and teeth ache from the beating, and a gag will only make it worse.

“Well?”

I respond by pressing my mouth into a thin line.

“Good.” He flicks his wrist, and the men yank me from the wall and push me to follow Ravin, even though I offer no resistance.

To Halazar, he said.

To my sister is what I heard.

Yes, I will comply, for now. I will find her, get her, then hold her close to me . . .

While I burn down the world and all those who would harm us. The townhome was just the first ember.

The heavy shackles bite into my wrists as we march through the quiet streets. The sound of clanking iron mingling with the Stellis’s heavy plate armor has lanterns flickering to life in the windows. Soon, eyes are on me from all angles.

At long last, the wicked convict who escaped Halazar has been brought to justice, I think for them all.

Ravin quickly mends his clothes and wounds with some swift card work before we emerge onto the main street, though a tiny divot remains on his ear where I bit him. Other than that minor, unnoticeable-­to-­anyone-­but-­me flaw, he looks every measure the triumphant Oricalis crown prince and Eclipse City regent.

I scan the Stellis as we walk. One of them must be the one who called off Ravin’s attack—­who stopped Ravin from killing me by persuading him I was more valuable alive. But I can’t tell which one. There was so much chaos. What did that Stellis say? I struggle to remember. Something about my being useful? My card as a Major Arcana? Kaelis?

The thought of the second-­born prince stops me in my tracks. My consciousness has narrowed onto a single searing memory—­Kaelis’s hands around my wrists, pinning me to the bed. I feel every sumptuous touch of fur and velvet on my bare skin as he looms over me, as he pounds into me relentlessly. I bite down the ache of longing, of shame. How could I have ever desired a son of Oricalis? And why do I still?

I paused for only a second, but that’s one second too long. The Stellis shove me, and the present comes crashing back. Everything hurts. There are no tender whispers or soft touches here. No room for pleasure, or desire. I am fueled by hate and held together by spite.

We turn off the main road. A secondary thoroughfare runs between Fool’s March and River Park and right in front of the Fatefinders Club. I would have expected everyone to be gone by now, especially after my discovery and disappearance.

I expected wrong.