The council members’ voices rose in an uproar, accusations being thrown at them both.
Oren’s voice, as usual, cut right through the rest, “This is because of her. Roque, you have been poisoned by this, this witch from those cursed Islands.” Spittle flew from Oren’s mouth, as his pointed finger shook toward Nei’s chest.
Slowly and very surely, she focused on Oren, taking in the old man.
I will end you, even if it means war.
Nei swallowed down her thoughts, proud her voice was steady when she said, “No, Oren. I am not a witch, only a healer. A woman who wants to see a world that is not trying to tear itself apart. A Queen that has dreams for her King, her daughter, and to ensure we will rule justly and not be ravished in lies and in corruption.” She paused. “Too long has this council pushed the idea that their one true King is one of triumphant power, when our people are taking this notion and abusing their abilities on my kinsmen and enslaving them. When they are hunting and killing desolates because they aren’t worthy of life.”
Oren spat out, “And what do you think they will do when the world finds out your husband is a desolate?”
Roque slammed his fist down on the table, the wood shaking from the force. “It is time my people know the truth. I am a king that is barren of ability. But it takes more than might to rule. It is time to rebuild our world, and this will start with our new government.”
Laughter danced around them, and Nei clenched her fist, her nails biting into the flesh of her palms. Roque rolled his shoulders, bringing himself up to his full height in his seat. “The time of this monarchy is done. There will be consequences for slave traders and for the slaughter of desolates. It starts today, with the expulsion of this council. You are all relieved of your duties and services.”
Oren pushed his chair back, the wood screeching against the cement. Looking feral, he shook with rage. “And what exactly are you going to do?”
The Roque she recognized flickered back through, as he leaned forward, almost touching noses with Oren and said, “Nei and I are building a sanctuary for all who want to learn how to control their abilities and harness it. To be used for good, not for fueling the death tolls and riots. A place for desolates to take refuge. Most importantly, a place to build a government that will preserve our culture and uphold the rights of our people.”
“A place that will never exist.”
Nei chuckled. “Oren, you are already behind the times. This place will exist, and you are staring at its founders.”
Roque leaned away. “I do believe we are done here.”
Each of the council members left in an arrangement of curses and rolling anger.
Oren stared at them both, collecting himself before saying, “I hope you both know that we will not let this stand.” He left, allowing his words to linger in the air before snapping the door closed behind him.
“We have to go, now,” Roque whispered.
Nei collected herself. The council would move fast, but they were faster. Bresslin and Cesan Stratton were ready for them, with Emory. They would leave this city behind and flee for their future.
Consuming the distance between them, Nei threw her arms around his neck and said on an exhale, “Thank you, truly.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Roque’s face before a small smirk tugged the corner of his lips. He quipped, “They will try to kill us, you know.”
Abashed from showing emotion, Nei pulled away. “Oh, no doubt. It will take years for people to accept this idea. This mad dream of ours.”
Despite her hatred, the confinement of her marriage, there was always something so much more important. Putting her differences aside, Nei had chosen fighting for freedom, above all else. Freedom for the Shattered Isles, for Kiero. For their daughter’s future.
Running, the note in Nei’s sleeve felt like lead, anchoring her to her decisions. She was torn in two: a queen and a daughter loyal to her people.
Their footfalls pounded around them, echoing in the hallway, and Nei summoned a flicker of energy, calling to her elements. Her skin burned, and the note ignited quickly, dissolving into ash, the remains soaring behind her, lost and unseen.
No one would know. Not Roque, Emory, or Bresslin.
Her father’s reply to her letter seared through her: I will miss you, my sweet daughter. But know we will wait, and when you are ready, we will answer your call for war. May the winds be with you, and your fierceness never falter. The Shattered Isles will answer to you and you alone.
Nei ran faster, her heart racing. She dared Oren to come after them, to declare a threat to their peace. Because the Shattered Isles were ready, and they answered to only her.
Chapter One
Brokk
Fifteen years later, The Academy
The afternoon sun soaked into his neck as Brokk Foster raised the bow, drawing the string back, his arrow nocked. The bowstring grazed his cheek as his arm shook; he tried not to blink against the sweat rolling down his temple. The courtyard faded away in that second, his hawk-eyed teacher, Professor Iasan, standing to the side, his arms crossed, his face impassive. Brokk’s fellow classmates stood near, and the looming structure of the Academy was behind them.
A strand of his golden hair tickled his forehead as he exhaled.
It’s not real, just release the arrow. Just release it.
At the opposite end of the range, a stuffed dummy was raised with an emblazoned red target where a heart would be.
Not real, not real, not real.
Muscles screaming, he tried to empty his charged mind, to convince himself that the undiluted fear that clutched his heart was unreasonable.
With still shaking arms,
