This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Cherae Clark
Excerpt from The Jasmine Throne copyright © 2021 by Natasha Suri
Excerpt from Son of the Storm copyright © 2021 Suyi Davies Okungbowa
Cover design by Lauren Panepinto
Cover illustration by Tommy Arnold
Cover copyright © 2021 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
Map illustration by Tim Paul
Author photograph by Jovita McCleod
Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Orbit
Hachette Book Group
1290 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10104
orbitbooks.net
First Edition: March 2021
Simultaneously published in Great Britain by Orbit
Orbit is an imprint of Hachette Book Group.
The Orbit name and logo are trademarks of Little, Brown Book Group Limited.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
The Hachette Speakers Bureau provides a wide range of authors for speaking events. To find out more, go to www.hachettespeakersbureau.com or call (866) 376-6591.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Clark, C. L. (Cherae L.), author.
Title: The unbroken / C.L. Clark.
Description: First edition. | New York : Orbit, 2021. | Series: Magic of the lost; book one
Identifiers: LCCN 2020027495 | ISBN 9780316542753 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9780316542692 (ebook)
Subjects: GSAFD: Fantasy fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3603.L356626 U53 2021 | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020027495
ISBNs: 978-0-316-54275-3 (trade paperback), 978-0-316-54267-8 (ebook)
E3-20210219-JV-NF-ORI
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Map
Part 1: Soldiers
Chapter 1: Change
Chapter 2: A Homecoming
Chapter 3: The Governor-General
Chapter 4: Captives
Chapter 5: The First Broadside
Chapter 6: A Family
Chapter 7: The Governor-General, Again
Chapter 8: The Lieutenant
Chapter 9: The Court-Martial
Chapter 10: The Assistant
Part 2: Turncoats
Chapter 11: The Modiste
Chapter 12: The Ball
Chapter 13: A Dance
Chapter 14: The Bookseller
Chapter 15: Rebellions
Chapter 16: Another Broadside
Chapter 17: Little Talks
Chapter 18: Shālan Lessons
Chapter 19: History Lessons
Chapter 20: For Research
Chapter 21: Grains of Sand
Chapter 22: An Alliance
Chapter 23: A Hope in the Dark
Chapter 24: Citizenship
Chapter 25: A Family, Broken
Part 3: Rebels
Chapter 26: A Duty
Chapter 27: Waking Up
Chapter 28: A Line in the Sand
Chapter 29: The Many-Legged
Chapter 30: A Hunger
Chapter 31: A Warning
Chapter 32: A Family (Reprise)
Chapter 33: A Family, Broken (Reprise)
Chapter 34: A Matter of Faith
Part 4: Martyrs
Chapter 35: An Unearthing
Chapter 36: Reparations
Chapter 37: A Reminder
Chapter 38: A Sickness
Chapter 39: A Panic
Chapter 40: A Sacrifice
Chapter 41: To Unknit
Chapter 42: The Rain (And Yet Another Broadside)
Chapter 43: Waking Up (Reprise)
Epilogue: To Knit
Acknowledgments
Discover More
Extras
Meet the Author
A Preview of The Jasmine Throne
A Preview of Son of the Storm
In Memoriam
Samira Sayeh: Le soutien, l’inspiration, et la sagesse
Clarence Lewis “C. L.” Clark: The O.G.
Explore book giveaways, sneak peeks, deals, and more.
Tap here to learn more.
PART 1SOLDIERS
CHAPTER 1CHANGE
A sandstorm brewed dark and menacing against the Qazāli horizon as Lieutenant Touraine and the rest of the Balladairan Colonial Brigade sailed into El-Wast, capital city of Qazāl, foremost of Balladaire’s southern colonies.
El-Wast. City of marble and sandstone, of olives and clay. City of the golden sun and fruits Touraine couldn’t remember tasting. City of rebellious, uncivilized god-worshippers. The city where Touraine was born.
At a sudden gust, Touraine pulled her black military coat tighter about her body and hunched small over the railing of the ship as it approached land. Even from this distance, in the early-morning dark, she could see a black Balladairan standard flapping above the docks. Its rearing golden horse danced to life, sparked by the reflection of the night lanterns. Around her, pale Balladairan-born sailors scrambled across the ship to bring it safely to harbor.
El-Wast, for the first time in some twenty-odd years. It took the air from the lieutenant’s chest. Her white-knuckle grip on the rail was only partly due to the nausea that had rocked her on the water.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Tibeau, Touraine’s second sergeant and best friend, settled against the rail next to her. The wooden rail shifted under his bulk. He spoke quietly, but Touraine could hear the awe and longing in the soft rumble of his voice.
Beautiful wasn’t the first thing Touraine thought as their ship sailed up the mouth of the River Hadd and gave them a view of El-Wast. The city was surprisingly big. Surprisingly bright. It was surprisingly… civilized. A proper city, not some scattering of tents and sand. Not what she had expected at all, given how Balladairans described the desert colonies. From this angle, it didn’t even look like a desert.
The docks stretched along the river like a small town, short buildings nestled alongside what were probably warehouses and workers’ tenements. Just beyond them, a massive bridge arced over shadowed farmland with some crop growing in neat rows, connecting the docks to the curve of a crumbling wall that surrounded the city. The Mile-Long Bridge. The great bridge was lined with the shadows of palm trees and lit up all along with the fuzzy dots of lanterns. In the morning darkness, you could easily have mistaken the lanterns for stars.
She shrugged. “It’s impressive, I guess.”
Tibeau nudged her shoulder and held his arms out wide to take it all in. “You guess? This is your home. We’re finally back. You’re going to love it.” His eyes shone in the reflection of the lanterns guiding the Balladairan ship into Crocodile Harbor, named for the monstrous lizards that had supposedly lived in the river centuries ago.
Home. Touraine frowned. “Love it? Beau, we’re not on leave.” She dug half-moons into the soft, weather-worn wood of the railing and grumbled, “We have a job to do.”
Tibeau scoffed.
