Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Night hadn't yet given way to dawn as I quietly eased my legs over the edge of my windowsill. My arms strained as I searched for my first foothold.

I wasn't some simpering, useless maid. Yet, I wasn't athletic like Eloise, my twin, either. Where Eloise's hair and skin were kissed by the sun, and she loved to run amok outdoors, seeking any manner of adventure, I, Kellen, was the opposite.

With hair black like the surrounding shadows, pale skin to rival a full moon's glow, and the preference to read about adventures rather than have them, few would guess I possessed the ability to scale the wall of our home without a rope or ladder. Fortunately, when one had an adventurer as a twin, one learned things.

I found a familiar foothold in the stones protruding from the wall and began my descent.

Alone.

No hushed whisper goaded me. No muffled laughter accompanied me. I was utterly without anyone to depend on for the first time in my life.

A pang of sorrow mixed with fear rose, but quickly, I pushed it down. The moment I'd said goodbye to my sister, I'd known there would be no turning back. For my twin—the sole reason for my existence—I would do anything. Even risk death, which was most assuredly what I was doing by escaping the house that had become our prison.

I only hoped Eloise's suffering wouldn't increase because of my actions. While I had no issue with risking myself, I hated the thought that I was risking her as well. However, what Eloise had written in the soot was right.

Without you, there is no control.

If I stayed, Maeve, the woman our father had left to care for us, would use me to control Eloise and would use my sister to control me. Maeve had proven so by chaining my sister to the hearth after having her beaten.

Briefly, the image of Eloise's swollen and bloody face rose in my mind, and rage, unlike anything I'd ever felt, threatened to fill me.

No matter the cost, I would right the wrongs that had been done. To Eloise. To my father. And to my mother.

Even after three weeks, the grief from losing her wanted to consume me. I trembled against the need to feel it, and my fingers slipped on the stone I was gripping. Thankfully, years of keeping up with Eloise saw me correcting my hold with little thought.

Pausing for a moment, I took a steadying breath and listened to the silence in the yard below.

I needed to focus. Too much was at stake to allow the hidden depths of my anger and sorrow to overcome me now. I'd planned my departure to ensure I would be well away before my absence became known and couldn't tarry.

Soundlessly, I scaled down the remainder of the wall and landed lightly on my feet.

As I untied my skirts, I glanced up at the place I'd called my home for sixteen years. The closed window of the room I'd shared with my sister wouldn't indicate how I'd escaped. After all, ladies didn't climb walls. Ladies wouldn't do many of the things I planned to do.

Most would weep or wail and try to find a way to speak the truth of what I'd learned despite the curse binding my tongue. I wasn't the type to give in to her emotions. And absolutely not with emotionally charged theatrics.

I turned and soundlessly started down our rutted drive. My deep red cloak and dark mourning gown beneath blended with the lingering night as I walked softly down our lane. Faint moonlight ushered me to the main road that led into Towdown where, having much to do and very little time to accomplish it, I picked up my skirts and settled into a soundless jog.

Anyone watching me would never suspect the emotions that I'd carefully trapped away. Many thought I was emotionless. Kellen the cold. A boy once said I was made of ice, which supposedly explained my pale skin. Although I felt things as much as any other person—the bitterness of disappointment, the grief of loss, the joy of receiving a gift—it was safer to keep it all locked away and use reason to dictate my actions.

Since agreeing to Eloise's plea to run, I'd given our plight much thought. The kingdom of Drisdall forbade the use of magic. Those who practiced it were cast out, imprisoned, or sentenced to death. Yet, a caster who used blood magic—the worst kind—had come into our home, killed those we loved, and cursed my sister and me so we could never speak of it.

We needed help; however, neither of us could do or say anything to implicate our tormentor. The curse binding us to silence left a single viable route to free us from our current madness—I needed to find our father.

Stricken by grief from the loss of his wife, he had sought to reestablish a trade route between the kingdoms of Drisdall and Turre. However, I saw his plan to enter the Dark Forest for what it was—a means to join his beloved wife. Cursed beasts roamed those forbidden woods, waiting to make a meal of any foolish traveler.

Such as myself.

The sling bag I'd packed bounced lightly against my back, proof of my impending folly. Yet, what other choice did I have?

In my father's mind, arranging for our mother's cousin, Maeve, to stay with Eloise and me had likely been a loving consideration. He could not have known what evil he had invited into our home to sleep in his beloved wife's bed, and I meant to find him before he obtained his permanent escape.

Please don't let it be too late, I thought.

The sun was just beginning to lighten the horizon when I reached the edge of town and slowed to a walk. A few early risers were already making their way to the market district.

Acknowledging no one and keeping my head down under my cloak, I made my way to the bookstore. I knew Eloise would be the first one Maeve questioned once she discovered my absence, which is why I hadn't told her my plans. Yet, I couldn't leave my sister to wonder my fate indefinitely if I should fail. So I planned to leave a clue with Mr. Bentwell that would hopefully lead Eloise to the spellcaster's books we'd found in the attic and the note I'd hidden within them.

Mr. Bentwell answered a good while after my first knock and welcomed me with a surprised smile.

"Kellen Cartwright," he said, stepping aside and gesturing for me to enter. "And without Eloise. This is a surprise."

"I apologize for calling upon you so early."

"Think nothing of it. Your love of the written word delights me, and I understand why you wish to escape to another world."

Since my mother's passing, he'd been sympathetically kind. While the books I'd borrowed from him hadn't dulled the pain, they had provided distraction in ways he would never guess. And because of his help, I felt truly horrible for darkening his doorstep now.

"Do you have another I might borrow?" I asked.

"Of course," he said, leading the way to his desk. "Lady Greylin just returned one that I think you might enjoy. Let's see…"

As he rummaged around his desk, I moved off to select another book from his shelves. It was a children's book I'd read long ago, filled with tales of dangerous magic. I thought it a fitting place to hide a clue for Eloise and slipped the piece of parchment into the barely loose spine.

"Here it is," he said.

I turned and handed him the book of tales as I accepted the one he offered.

"Would you mind holding this one for Eloise? She should finish her current book in a day or two."

I wasn't sure how long it would take for Maeve to unchain Eloise, but something told me the book would be in my sister's hands before the day was done.

"Of course." He set it aside, and we said our farewells.

As I left, I felt the same sense of certainty that would be the last time I ever saw Mr. Bentwell. I forced the sorrow away and carefully tucked away the book he'd loaned me in my bag.

After skirting around the busiest sections of town, I made my way toward the western road that hooked to the north before it reached the Dark Forest. Seeing no wagons along the route, I started jogging once more.

Since Maeve's arrival, our home had settled into a routine. She stayed up late, looking through Father's old documents, and often slept until mid-morning. With the sun cresting the horizon, I needed to move quickly.

My lungs burned for air long before I spotted the road veering north ahead. If not for the bend, I would have missed the old path to the kingdom of Turre altogether.

Leaving the road, I slowed to a walk. My gaze swept over the long grass, searching for any sign of my father's passing. Near a pair of fallen stone pillars, I found it. The remains of an old fire, a saddle, and a pair of empty provisions bags.

The abandoned gear meant that he'd released his horse before going into the Dark Forest. My throat tightened, and I rifled through the abandoned bags, looking for anything I could take with me. The biscuits I found were dotted with mold.

How many days had he lingered here after leaving us over a fortnight ago?

My gaze drifted to the distant trees, and I hoped it had been a good number. I could feel the malevolence waiting in the darkness.

A soft hum danced along my skin, distracting me from the gloom ahead. It wasn't a sound, but a feeling.

Pulling my gaze from the trees, I studied the surrounding area again. Grass, a few stunted trees, my father's camp, and the fallen stones. My gaze lingered on the stones, and I drew closer. The hum grew in pitch yet remained gentle.

Magic.

After Mother's death, I'd discovered books in our attic. They'd detailed many things, such as how to make herbal tinctures to heal and bespelled potions to change one's appearance. But the books also contained other notes. Small, informational sections that had hinted at a larger magical knowledge regarding magic as an energy that existed in nature, beast, and man.

Curious, I set my hand to the stone and felt it—an energy that didn't typically belong to a single stone. And each stone in the pillar had it.

I understood I'd found the fabled magic pillars that had once guarded the Dark Forest's winding path to Turre before magic had been banned in Drisdall.

I knew little about the Dark Forest, only what stories my father had shared from his youth when the pillars had still stood. In his time, the road had been safe enough to travel. The pillars had kept the creatures corrupted by magic confined to the darkness of the massive wood that separated the two kingdoms. However, after news spread that Turre's Queen had fallen, the pillars had been destroyed.

Rumors said that the creatures lived in the darkness because they couldn't survive the light, which is why I'd purposely timed my arrival. Logically, every forest had pockets of light. Nature's way to ensure new growth. I simply needed to stay within the pockets and hope I found Father before dark.

Removing my hand from the stone, I straightened the sling bag I wore across my body, took one deep, calming breath, and started forward through the waist-high grass.

At the edge of the forest, I paused and stared ahead at the heavily shadowed trunks. If there was a pocket of light, I couldn't see it.

Once I entered, I knew there would be no turning back.

For Eloise , I thought, stepping into the shadows.

While finding ways to startle my sister had amused me for years, the skills I'd honed in doing so served me well as I moved quickly and quietly through the trees. Even my breathing was soft in the silence, which was a blessing.

How could such a vast place have no birds or small wildlife to fill it with sounds of life?

A twig snapped.

Not close but close enough to hear.

A feeling of danger and the need to hide drove me to the nearest tree, where I pressed my back to the trunk. Heart racing, I looked for the source of danger and spotted a rabbit frozen in fear a few paces away. It wasn't staring at me, though. It was looking to the west, deeper into the woods, the direction I needed to go.

It twitched then bolted to the south, making more noise than an animal its size should. The sound of pursuit was immediate and much louder, punctuated by a savage growl.

Barely breathing, I slid around the trunk of the tree so the creatures wouldn't spot me, waited a few seconds, and slipped to the next tree. Then the next.

Soundlessly, I glided away at a steady pace. The light faded behind me, and my eyes adjusted to the dimness enough that I spotted the old road. Brush and small trees grew in the path, overshadowed by much larger trees to the side. I didn't see any patches of light ahead, but reason said I was most likely to find some along the road.

Would my father have followed the road too?

The sounds behind me stopped.

A familiar tingle ran up my spine. It was something I'd felt with increasing frequency since Father had left us. A sign of danger to come. I hadn't heeded its warning then, but I did now. I strained to listen to the trees around me and heard nothing but silence. The tingle grew stronger. I stepped behind a tree and kept my breath silent and steady.

I saw movement to my left and slowly turned my head to look. Something moved between the trees. It looked like a mix of a bear and a wolf but stood on its disjointed hind legs. Despite its bulky appearance, it moved stealthily, pausing occasionally to sniff the air.

The realization that it might be tracking me barely settled in my mind when it turned slowly, sniffing in my direction. The angle was enough to see the torn remains of the clothes he wore.

"Father." The word escaped in an agonized whisper.

His head swung toward me. I felt no fear. Only anguish that I'd ignored the warning when he'd left. That I hadn't tried to stop him sooner. If I had, Eloise and I might have had a way to rid ourselves of Maeve.

Now…any lingering hope I'd held vanished with the tear that trailed down my cheek.

He stalked toward me, still not making a sound. I didn't try to run. My fate was set.

Another tear, for Eloise, followed the first. And another for my mother.

Even now, facing my own death, I could not speak the name of her killer so my father would know it wasn't his fault. None of this was his fault.

I spoke the only words left to me.

"I'm sorry I failed you."

He stopped before me and reached out to run a claw down my cheek. It scraped my skin painfully as he traced my trail of tears, but I didn't pull away.

He opened his mouth, showing his bloody teeth.

The sound he made was mostly inhuman, but through the growl, I heard what he was trying to say.

"Run."

"I already did," I said. "This is where I am meant to be. You were my last hope."

The feeling of danger intensified a moment before I heard something snap nearby. Father's head whipped toward the sound, and he let out a low snarl.

A second creature emerged from the trees. He moved differently. Less like a man, though he still only walked on his hind legs. Malevolence shone in his eyes as he prowled closer to us.

Father's claws closed over my cloak as he ripped me away from the tree and tossed me aside. I stumbled, trying to keep my feet under me.

"Run," he growled.

The creature leapt toward me at the same time Father launched himself at the beast. Gripping my skirts, I pivoted and ran as they thudded together.

I knew Father had meant for me to leave, but that tingle of warning inside of me whispered the danger outside of these trees was just as great as the dangers within. So, I sprinted along the road, deeper into the forest as their snarls and howls filled the trees behind me.

Ahead, I spotted a sun-dappled circle no bigger than a wagon wheel. A shape moved in the trees not far from it. I ran harder, straight toward the light and the beast. It tensed, ready to pounce. I pulled back at the last moment to skid to a stop within the light.

Instinct screamed to crouch low. I listened immediately and felt something move over my head. Claws snagged my hood, pulling it back and tearing the material as the creature howled in rage. I rocked back with the momentum, almost tumbling out of the light.

The smell of burnt hair filled my nose. When I looked up, I saw the beast in flames. It snarled and yowled as it staggered between the trees, raising a din that others of its kind would hear. I knew I couldn't stay where I was and needed to leave. Yet, I now knew they would track me wherever I went.

I scanned the border of the overgrown road and spotted a cluster of wild onions. Their tops were wilted and brown from the winter. With a quick glance at the burning creature and the surrounding trees, I ran for the onions and clawed at the partially frozen dirt. My fingers squished into the onions. I smeared the mess, dirt and all, on my cloak and face.

Grabbing one last handful, I slipped into the trees and hurried away from the wailing beast. The need to run warred with the whispered warning to move steadily and quietly. I listened to the warning.

Several times, I heard something moving nearby. Each time, I would pause and wait, hoping that the onion was enough to mask my scent.

Fighting broke out several times, and I questioned my sanity often. What did I hope to accomplish by running deeper into the forest? Did I think to reach Turre?

Since the fall of the pillars and the trade route between kingdoms, no one had heard anything from Turre. Rumors circulated, of course. In hushed tones, those old enough to remember spoke of a once beautiful kingdom fallen and in the grasp of dark magic. But no one could substantiate how it had fallen or what magic held it.

Yet, what better way to fight magic than with magic? Perhaps in Turre, I could find a caster to stop Maeve.

If I could reach it.

I'd heard that, on horseback, it would take one the length of a day to reach Turre. With a wagon, one would be hard-pressed and need to bring lanterns to light the way. No one ever spoke of trying to reach Turre using their own two feet.

I glanced up at the dark canopy, trying to estimate the placement of the sun. How long had I been running since entering the forest? Long enough for Maeve to have woken and discover me missing? Was Eloise safe? Would she be beaten again?

Realizing my exhaustion was influencing the dismal spiral of my thoughts, I slowed. I needed to rest, even if just for a moment. The trees were quiet around me. No early spring breeze attempted to stir the air within the dense growth. Silence reigned, and I took several deep but quiet breaths as I scanned for any sign of movement.

My gaze caught on several raised, elongated clumps covered with dead grass and moss on the road. Keeping to the trees, I moved closer to the odd shapes until I saw bones peeking through the decay. Too large to be human. Beasts, then. At least five spread out.

What had killed them?

I froze at the sound of a soft growl.

"Go home."

Father's voice had too much growl, and lips that didn't want to move garbled the words. But I still understood.

Turning slowly, I faced where he waited farther away in the trees. He was bloodied and had gashes across his chest. My heart hurt for him, for I knew the fights I'd heard had been him defending me.

"You know as well as I do—a place does not make a home; the people do. Without you, there is no reason for me to return."

He flinched and slashed his claws angrily through the air.

"Eloise," he panted.

I knew he was asking about her, not telling me to go to her.

"I cannot speak of her fate," I said, rather than saying I last saw her sitting beside the fire.

He moaned softly.

"Father. Please. I?—"

One of his ears flicked to the east, and I knew he'd heard something I did not when he held up his claw-tipped hand. I remained silent as he paced a distance in that direction. He stopped and sniffed the air.

A subtle hum, so faint that had I been moving I wouldn't have felt it, teased my senses and drew my gaze from my father to a moss-covered bumpy patch in the road. Something told me I needed whatever lay hidden there.

"Death."

I looked up at my father and saw he was staring at the same spot on the road. I studied him, seeing every similarity to the father I once knew.

"Yours or mine?" I asked softly.

"Mine."

Having already guessed the answer, considering the number of nearby bodies, I simply nodded.

"Take it," he said.

Without protesting, I went to the spot and unearthed an old, waxed leather pouch. The hard lump inside was about the size of a river stone and hummed against my palm. Rather than look at what it might be, I tucked the pouch into my cloak.

"I should keep moving while there's light. Thank you, Father."

He stayed where he was as I turned away and continued moving stealthily down the road.

I didn't look back. I couldn't.