29. Defense
30. Army
31. Hunters
32. Portal
33. Invasion
34. Jehubal
35. Decoy
36. Fake
37. Adrina
38. Forgotten
39. Defeat
40. To The End
41. Storm
42. Liberation
43. Perfect
Glossary of Terms
About the Author
Afterword
Pronunciation Guide
To my wife, Julia who has been my strength, my support, my partner, my inspiration, my everything.
Every day of my life has been better because I get to breathe the same air as her.
Chapter one
Traitor
A dense fog provided Shanon with enough cover to kill four of those sleazy guards undetected. So far. It was only a matter of time before somebody realized their comrades were missing. Her task would be done before they’d find out. It would send the right message though. Some people in Jehubal still valued loyalty over wealth.
The pain of waiting for the perfect conditions had been almost unbearable. After seeing what they’d done to her brother, Kyel, her emotions had been a roiling turmoil. There was rage and bitterness of course, but nothing compared to the deepness of her sorrow or the loneliness that wracked her thoughts whenever she stopped plotting long enough to think of anything else.
It had been two weeks since they killed her brother. Two weeks since they captured Hatan and overthrew the city. In only a few marks, the nobility would be holding a council to decide who would be the new king or queen of Jehubal. Ridiculous.
Migo Rikaydian was still the rightful king. Not only by blood, but he was the people’s king. He stood up for them. Defended them. Even when the queen would not. That alone made him worthy enough. And Shanon would let the nobles know that they ruled only because people like Shanon let them.
She descended the stairs of the wall around Kesten Manor. Chatter echoed off the stone manor ahead, though she still couldn't see the building. A cart of food had just arrived, as it always did around the second mark. She jogged up until the side of the manor came into view, its walls made of thick, tan blocks. She skirted the edge of the building. The guard who manned this servants’ entrance would be deep in conversation with the assistant who’d just arrived with the food. Under cover of the fog, Shanon slipped past them directly through the open door of the manor.
Once inside, she took an immediate turn right up a flight of stairs. She was already dressed in the livery of one of Kesten’s servants. It was surprisingly easy to steal especially when everyone washed their laundry in all the same places within the city. Another servant woman came down the stairs, passing Shanon as she ascended. She kept a knife at the ready, but she intended to take as few of the servants’ lives as possible. But the soldiers? She’d kill every last one of them she could.
The other servant simply hurried down the stairs, giving Shanon only the briefest of glances. This would be easy. Vitori was too proud. He must’ve thought that he’d appeased everyone enough to avoid danger. He knew nothing of what a real enemy was capable of. One that wasn’t afraid of consequences. That’s what made her truly dangerous.
She reached the top of the stairs and opened the narrow door, finding herself at the end of a long, wide hall. It practically gushed with money. Pedestals were mounted with sculptures between each door. Massive windows on either end of the hall were decorated with stained glass, but Shanon skipped over the fine details, focusing instead on what mattered.
Vitori’s room was still one more floor up. At this time, he would normally be in there, asleep. She could only hope it would be so simple as to walk in and slit his throat while he slumbered. She’d stare him in the eyes as he bled to death. Her fists clenched as blood pounded through her veins.
Halfway across the hall was another, wider stairway that led to the top floor. This was the stairway used by the Kesten family. A servant was coming down the other side of the hall, but this was Kelhada, the manager of the estate, and one of the last people she wanted to meet while infiltrating the home.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Kelhada said, her voice stern.
Shanon sank into her role, wringing her hands as she approached Kelhada. She glanced behind her to make sure the two of them were alone in the hall. “One of the other girls left a floor scrub near the tower, and I was being sent to retrieve it.”
“We haven’t had to scrub the floors for a few cycles,” Kelhada said, eyes narrowing. “Who sent you? In fact, who are you? I manage all the staff, and I haven’t seen—”
Shanon swiped a knife out from under the sleeve of her robes and jabbed it into the side of Kelhada’s neck, cutting her barely-uttered scream to a sudden halt. She clamped a hand over Kelhada’s mouth and dragged the dying woman into the nearest room, which she could only hope was empty.
It was not. A young man lay sleeping in his luxurious bed. He looked vaguely familiar, like one of the distant relatives that kissed up the dust from Vitori’s boots. He wasn’t roused by Shanon dragging a woman into the room. She laid Kelhada on the floor, keeping a hand over her mouth until she died.
