Starchaser

Book 0: Nightweaver

by R. M. Gray

Genres: YA Dark Fantasy

Synopsis

Preorder now and receive the gorgeous DELUXE LIMITED EDITION while supplies last―featuring stenciled sprayed edges, as well as exclusive special design features. This must-have special edition is only available on a limited first print run while supplies last.

Dive into Starchaser, the thrilling, romantic, and action-packed sequel to the propulsive Nightweaver that’s perfect for fans of Powerless and Heartless Hunter.

Seventeen-year-old pirate Aster Oberon faces a stunning new reality, gifted with a magical ability that she’s struggling to master. Worse, both she and Will—the Nightweaver who has captured her heart—have been cursed. In mere weeks, they will become ferocious Underlings, creatures forced to serve the evil Morana. The only way to break the curse is by procuring Morana’s blood.

To track down the cure, Aster teams up with both Will and Titus, the infuriatingly handsome prince of the Eerie who secretly aims to overthrow his royal family’s tyrannical reign. The trio’s journey takes them to Castle Grim, where danger is around every corner, and no one is who they seem. Between deadly dinners, extravagant balls, and shifting desires toward Will and Titus, Aster will have to keep her blades at the ready and determine who she can rely on before the ticking clock of her curse runs out. 

This ultra-romantic, ultra-exciting follow up to Nightweaver is filled to the brim with mind-bending twists, swoon-worthy moments, and more adventure than a pirate could have ever expected.

Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Print pages: 432

Sample

I feel his presence before I see him. His steady heartbeat never falters as he steps out of the shadows, the hood of his black cloak drawn to cover his face.

“You came,” Will says, his voice dark and deep. His hood conceals his emerald eyes, but I imagine they sparkle with amusement as he draws a wicked-looking knife from his belt. “I’d begun to think you wouldn’t honor our agreement.”

His leather boots squelch in the mud as he makes his way down the deserted cobblestone street. He comes to a halt in a gilded puddle of lantern light, ten feet from where I stand, flurries of snow dusting his shoulders.

“And miss my chance to meet the great William Castor?” Captain Shade’s muffled voice comes from directly behind me. He presses the muzzle of a flintlock pistol to my cheek, and I cringe at the bite of the cold metal on my skin. “Let’s not waste time, shall we?”

Will tilts his head, a subtle command. Two men in full suits of bloodred armor emerge onto the street, hauling a battered woman between them, her cropped ginger hair matted in clumps. Blood steadily drips from the crudely bandaged stump that would have been her right leg only a few hours ago. I’ve seen Margaret amputate a limb before—I can tell the leg wasn’t removed by a surgeon. If she doesn’t get proper medical treatment soon, there’s a chance she won’t make it through the night.

“You certainly know how to treat a lady,” Shade says, an edge to his light, conversational tone.

“She’s alive.” Will runs his gloved fingertips over the edge of his blade. “That was our agreement.”

“Aye.” Shade laughs as he presses the muzzle of the pistol beneath my chin. “Miss Oberon goes free, and in exchange, you return my quartermaster, Diana—safe from harm.”

Click. He pulls the hammer of the flintlock back, smoothly wrapping an arm around my midsection, his hand splayed possessively over my abdomen. It’s a predatory threat that would make my skin crawl—if I wasn’t the one to suggest it.

I know Captain Shade isn’t evil. His true name is Titus Anteres, the crown prince of the Eerie—the same prince who joined a secret rebellion against his own parents. But we agreed that we’d need to convince the royal Bloodknights that I was held prisoner aboard his ship, and so Titus’s calculated hand placement is all part of that charade. I try to catch Will’s eye, to reassure him that this plan will work, but he glares at Shade’s hand, his jaw set.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him.

We agreed to all this just yesterday. I woke—having spent two weeks unconscious aboard Shade’s ship, the Starchaser—and Will wasted no time in telling me the king’s plan to appoint me as one of his Bloodknights, to make it clear to his subjects where my loyalties lie. But the king doesn’t know the truth—that becoming a Bloodknight will allow me to infiltrate the royal household and get to the true depths of their evil plans for humans and Myths. And gaining access to Castle Grim will bring me one step closer to undoing the curses binding me and Will.

Once Will whisks me off to the castle, I will use my abilities to sense whether Titus is right: that his fiancée, the princess of Hellion, is possessed by Morana. Then, if what Titus believes is true, we can force the Sylk queen to take her corporeal form, use her blood to cure not only mine and Will’s Underling curses, but also to free my brother, Owen, from Morana’s service.

In exchange for my cooperation, Titus has agreed to give me his medallion—an heirloom that once belonged to the heir of Hildegarde, which he assures me will grant me and my family passage to the only place on this earth truly safe for humans from both the tyrannical rule of Nightweavers and Morana’s Underling forces—the Red Island.

But before I leave the Eerie once and for all, I plan to take down Titus’s father, the king—to make him pay for what he’s done to me, to my family, and to my people.

A cure.

Freedom.

Revenge.

I catch Will’s gaze at last.

And love?

I can have it all—I just need to hold up my end of the bargain.

Shade leans forward, his mask brushing the side of my head. “I requested the safe return of Diana to raise the morale of my crew. However, if she were to bleed out before I could bring her safely home…” He clucks his tongue. “Well, my crew would be just as pleased to know I’d robbed the king of his prize.”

He pulls me in tighter, as if to make his point. His warm breath ghosts over the shell of my ear, and the scent of salty air that clings to his skin transports me to yesterday. To the moment when he revealed he was both pirate and prince. The moment I ran from him—horrified that a pirate I long admired was living a double life, and actually the next in line to a tyrannical dynasty of Nightweavers. I dived into the sea, my sanctuary, but Shade followed me into the water without hesitation, where he pressed his lips to mine.

Once Will pulled me from the sea and back aboard the Starchaser, Titus hardly spoke to me at all. And this evening he was silent again, even as we rowed to shore together. Now, as Shade, he strokes my cheek with the pistol; it sends both a shiver down my spine and a thread of guilt winding its way around my heart.

Did Titus tell Will he kissed me? Can I even call it a kiss?

And did he see what I saw under the waves, that woman made of brilliant gold dust?

Shade’s voice snaps me back to reality. “Perhaps I’ll allow Miss Oberon to live.” I can almost hear the wicked smile in his voice. “Though, I suppose my crew might prefer that she lack the means to wield a knife, don’t you?”

Shade takes a step back, dragging me with him. The Bloodknights nearly drop Diana, but Will holds up a hand, an unspoken command for them to wait. Slowly, he takes a few paces back as well, holding his knife out to his right, where the sharp edge of the blade rests on the skin of Diana’s throat.

“Take one more step,” Will says, his voice deathly calm, a subtle honey-gold light flaring in his eyes, “and the girl loses more than her leg.”

Shade sighs. “Don’t you ever get tired of making empty threats?” He removes the gun from my face, releasing his grip on my waist only to kick my legs out from under me. I land on my knees, my teeth gritted against the pain. He must aim the pistol at the back of my head, because when I look up, Will’s face has gone pale. “Are you really willing to gamble with her life? I know what she means to you.”

My heartbeat thunders in my chest. When we agreed on how this exchange would play out, we didn’t discuss this. Captain Shade—Titus—has saved my life more than once. But can I trust a pirate not to take things too far?

Can I trust him?

Will never takes his eyes off me as he removes the blade from Diana’s throat. The Bloodknights throw her forward, where she lands in a heap on the ground beside me.

“Your turn, pirate,” Will says, fixing a glare on Shade.

I glance behind me as Shade lowers his weapon, shrugging his shoulders. “She’s all yours.”

I meet Will’s gaze once more as I gather the strength to rise, and I see it there—the relief, the concern, the silent apology. And… something else. Something neither of us has given breath to. I brace my palms against the slick, rough cobblestones, lifting myself slowly when—

BANG.

The gunshot rattles in my chest, my ears ringing. For a split second, I think I’ve been shot. But it’s Will who staggers to the left, sways. With his free hand, he touches his shoulder. His fingers come away wet with blood.

And then chaos.

I scramble out of the street, pressing myself flat against a building as Captain Shade’s crew descend from the rooftops, swords flashing. Bloodknights stream out from the alleyways to meet them, wielding blades made of Elysian Iron. Gunshots reverberate off the brick walls, and for a moment, I lose sight of Will in the blur of bodies.

But there—there he is, locked in battle with Captain Shade.

It’s all for show, I remind myself. Titus and Will don’t actually hate each other. They’re on the same side; they would never try to kill each other.

Still, shooting Will wasn’t part of the plan. And if Shade is going off script…

With an expertly timed strike, Will uses his sword to knock the gun out of Shade’s grasp, making it a fair fight. But with Will’s steady loss of blood, I’m not sure how much longer he can keep this up.

I would kill for a weapon. Even though, despite the battle that rages around me, I know I’m not in any real danger. Shade’s crew wouldn’t dare harm me, even if they didn’t fear what their captain would do to them if they did. And the Bloodknights have been ordered by the king to assist Will in bringing me safely to Castle Grim.

Nevertheless, my fingers itch for my daggers. I can’t bear sitting still, watching as others shed blood in my name. Blood that pools at my feet. Blood that whispers to me in a language I feel I’ve forgotten, like waking from a dream…

I shut my eyes tight as the sickeningly sweet smell of copper overwhelms my senses. I can’t risk anyone seeing the golden glow that now emanates from my irises—growing brighter as my affinity continues to rise within me, stronger now than it did the first time it manifested that night in the bloody fountain.

I shake my head. It’s been only two weeks since Titus revealed I am half Nightweaver—a bloodletter with elemental power over water. But now is not the time for losing control. Not when I haven’t even begun to discover what kind of power I can wield. Not when I can’t be sure of the damage I could do if I just—

A Bloodknight slices a member of Shade’s crew, and the girl crumples to the ground next to me, entrails spilling from the gash in her abdomen. I tried my best not to learn the names of Shade’s crew, especially knowing what I planned for tonight, but now as the girl dies nameless beside me, shame coils in my gut.

She chokes, coughing blood onto the cobblestones, before her eyes roll to the back of her head.

I look away.

Shade’s crew knew what they signed up for. They knew some of them might not leave this street alive. Still, the blood that seeps into the cracks is on my hands.

Let them believe the great Captain Shade, hero of the human rebellion, has lost, I told Will and Titus. Then, once the king believes he’s won, we’ll attack from the inside. They won’t suspect a thing.

Will was reluctant, but I thought I saw a hint of pride in Titus’s eyes as I detailed my plan to invade Castle Grim by using his father’s own scheme against him. A brilliant plan—if Will doesn’t succumb to the wound in his shoulder.

It has to be convincing, Will said.

It has to be a struggle, Titus agreed.

It has to look real, we decided.

Only, now I wonder if I didn’t misjudge the lengths they were willing to go to stage this deception.

“Give up,” Shade drawls, loud enough that I hear him over the din of clashing metal. “You’re finished, Nightweaver! Run along home to your mum and dad.”

Will’s jaw clenches. Sparks fly as he brings his blade down hard, connecting with Shade’s sword in a strike that vibrates through the street, almost as if the earth itself responded to Will’s fury.

False fury, I tell myself.

But then, why does it seem so real? Why do his eyes flash with a hatred I’ve never seen in him before?

Why—I ask myself, even as I watch him move at an inhuman speed, too quick for my eyes to properly detect—does he deflect Shade’s counterblow, lunging forward, his blade aimed at Shade’s chest? Why does his sword pierce Shade’s flesh with an audible squelch?

Why is all I can think as he stabs Captain Shade—stabs Titus, his best friend, his brother in every nature except birth—straight through the heart.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Shade—Titus—goes limp, skewered on Will’s blade. I want to scream, but I can’t seem to find my voice.

Will’s chest heaves as he stares at his best friend, watching the light leave Shade’s eyes. He whispers something too low for anyone to hear.

This can’t be happening.

Will withdraws his sword, and Shade falls, his body toppling sideways at an awkward angle before hitting the cobblestones with a dull thump. I can’t see his face—his body is turned away from me—but when he falls, his crimson tricorn is knocked from his head, his golden-blond hair now on full display.

At once, the fighting stops. Shade’s crew freezes, shock apparent in their terrified expressions. Even the Bloodknights halt midswing, turning to look at Will, at his face smattered red with blood.

“Your captain is dead!” Will shouts, his voice raw—rough and ragged and all wrong. It comes out as a deep, rasping sound, as if it isn’t his voice. He clears his throat, his eyes shifting from gold back to green, and when he speaks again, his voice is smooth. “Malachi Shade is dead.”

He raises his foot—stomps down hard on Shade’s mask. It cracks like bone beneath his weight.

I forget myself. I forget the plan. I forget everything.

I lurch forward, attempting to reach Titus’s prone body, all the while telling myself that I’m doing it for the medallion—that if Shade dies, I might lose my chance to reach the Red Island, and this will have all been for nothing. But in that instant, red smoke fills the street, too thick to see Will, or Titus, or anything for that matter.

A hand covers my mouth.

And then I’m being dragged.

I bite down hard, drawing blood. The metallic fluid floods my mouth, sending a jolt of power through my veins. It gives me enough strength to nearly break my captor’s hold, but, as if they expected this, they tighten their grip, crushing my arms to my sides. I kick, struggling to find my footing, but it’s no use—whoever has me is much, much taller than me. With what seems like little effort, I’m pulled backward, up, through a narrow doorway and into a carriage.

Into someone’s lap.

“Normally, I wouldn’t be opposed to biting,” comes a silky, lilting voice, his hot breath on the back of my neck sending a shiver down my spine, “but I rather benefit from having all my fingers, love.”

My heart skips a beat. Restarts.

He releases his grip, and I fall forward, catching myself on the bench across from him. I whirl to find Titus, dressed in his princely garb—a black military jacket trimmed with scarlet thread—seated across from me in an obnoxiously luxurious carriage. He cocks his head, a strange expression of curiosity on his familiar face. Murderous rage replaces my grief as his lips tilt upward in a mischievous grin.

“You bastard!” I seethe. “I just watched you die!”

“Yes, well,” he says with an infuriating shrug. “You wanted it to look real, hmm?”

My heart beats fiercely against my rib cage. I feel everything—anger, guilt, confusion, relief? —so acutely, so painfully, I can hardly breathe.

“Don’t worry about Rook,” he says with a mocking smile. “William missed his heart. My crew will have gotten him out of here by now. One of my bonewielders is probably stitching Diana and him both up as we speak.”

Rook—he was one of the crew I met aboard the Starchaser as we planned this evening’s attack. And once before, when Captain Shade saved him from the gallows, when Will saved me and my family from the hearing in the town square. Rook’s impersonation of Shade—of Titus—was so believable he fooled me along with everyone else.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my voice thick when I say, “I thought you were dead.”

Titus glances up at me, eyes narrowed. Instantly, his features soften.

“Aster,” he murmurs, chastised. “Forgive me—”

“Don’t,” I grit out, my cheeks burning. “There’s nothing to forgive. The plan worked. That’s all that matters.”

Titus frowns. His brows pull together, his blue eyes piercing.

Softly, tenderly, he says, “Please, love, don’t cry.”

“I’m not—” I bite my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “It’s not you, it’s…”

And then, before I can stop myself, every emotion comes spilling out of me and every memory from the past few months rushes to the surface.

My father, lying dead on the kitchen floor.

My brother Owen, who tried to turn me into a monster like him.

The king, who expects me to swear allegiance to him and to fight for him against my own people.

Will, who will die if I don’t succeed in forcing the Sylk queen to give us a drop of her blood—the only cure for the curse that will turn Will from a Nightweaver into a bloodthirsty Underling.

The same curse that will eventually turn me, too.

And then there’s Titus. He’s lied to me, manipulated me, and even now, I know he’s only pretending to care about me because he intends to use my abilities for his own gain.

And yet…

As if he can sense my thoughts, he leans forward, lifting his hand to reach for me. He lets it linger in the air, his fingers inches from my face, and I have the fleeting memory of his face underwater, just before his mouth met mine beneath the waves.…

It didn’t mean anything, I scold myself. He was only trying to save me to save himself. If I drowned, he would have lost his only means of discovering the truth about his fiancée and curing his best friend.

The reminder douses my senses like a bucket of ice-cold water, and I clear my throat.

Titus jerks back his hand as if stung, clenches his fist in his lap. A neutral expression settles over his features as he retreats to his bench across the carriage from me, one ankle perched casually over his knee. He looks out the window as if I no longer exist.

Before I even hear the hinges creak, the door to the carriage opens.

And then Will is there, the scent of roses and damp earth enveloping me. He takes his seat beside me, his comforting warmth seeping through his cloak to my shivering skin, his hand on my cheek as his eyes—green but still glimmering with traces of gold Nightweaver light—examine me from head to toe.

I glance at his shoulder, but despite the blood that stains his shirt, it appears as if he’s already healed himself.

I melt into his touch, leaning forward, my lips parting. I knew, in the instant I saw the bullet pierce his flesh, that any remainder of outrage I felt toward him and his recent revelations vanished. We did not meet on ideal terms, and our partnership may have been founded on mutual gain, but I can’t deny what I feel for Will. And I can’t ignore the way his fingertips graze my skin, or the longing look in his eyes as he closes the distance between us, drawing in a shaky breath.…

“Later, my darling,” Will hurries to whisper, sounding strained. He draws back as the door to the carriage opens once more. I cringe as a Bloodknight takes the seat beside Titus, who shifts to put as much distance as he can between himself and the soldier.

“Miss Oberon,” Will says, his tone now cool, “I’d like you to meet Gabriel. He and our coachman for the evening, Flynn, will act as your private guards for the duration of our journey.”

Gabriel dips his head in greeting, his face concealed by his ornate scarlet helmet.

I say nothing, my every instinct telling me to lift a blade from Will’s person and drive it into one of the slits covering the Bloodknight’s eyes. To be this close to one of the king’s personal soldiers, knowing he’s most likely slaughtered thousands of my people at the royal command, and not be able to slice him from nose to navel is almost too much to bear. The only consolation I have is that when I’ve completed my task, and Will has been cured, I’m free to make the Bloodknights pay.

“Fantastic,” Titus drawls. “Now that we’re all acquainted…” He knocks on the window, and the carriage lurches into motion. “I believe we have a train to catch.”

“Aster,” comes Will’s deep voice, coaxing me gently from sleep, “we’re here.”

It takes me a full moment to realize I’m no longer aboard the Starchaser. The lavish interior of the royal carriage comes into focus as I blink my eyes open, wondering how I could have fallen into such a slumber, and notice Will’s hand resting lightly on my forearm.

The hair on the back of my neck bristles. “Did you—”

He holds a finger to his lips. We’re alone in the carriage—Titus and Gabriel have made their exit—but Will urges me to silence.

“You used your magic to make me sleep!” I hiss, careful to keep my voice quiet.

He frowns. “You needed rest,” he says simply.

“You don’t get to decide—”

Voices from just beyond the carriage door give me pause.

Will clears his throat. “This way, Miss Oberon.”

And just like that, he ends my protests before they’ve even truly begun. He opens the carriage door, stepping down first and then turning to offer his hand.

I grit my teeth, obliging him in front of the two Bloodknights, their scarlet armor almost jarring in contrast to the snow.

Snow. It covers the wood like a sea of white, as if my beloved ocean has come to convene with me beyond the shore. Father always said that before the Fall six hundred years ago, when Nightweavers were banished here, exiled from the heavenly realm of Elysia, winter crept slowly upon the land in late December. Some claim it’s part of the curse humans brought upon the Known World, and the early arrival of winter is a sign of the True King’s wrath. Others, including the Nightweavers of the Eerie, believe the sudden October winters are holy, a blessed omen from the True King, and mark the occasion with a grand celebration known as Holy Winter’s Day. Under different circumstances, I might secretly be thrilled to partake in the festival—the spiced nuts, the mulled wine, the exchanging of gifts—but the celebration now marks the day that Titus will be wed to the princess of Hellion. And when I see his stark figure, a lithe silhouette of midnight fabric against the frosty backdrop of the wood, the abrupt winter feels more cursed than blessed.

It’s Prince Titus who stares back at me now, his chin high, expression cold. Not the pirate captain who’d rescued me from the Deathwail.

“Where are we?” I ask, taking in the thick foliage that strangles the wooden loading platform where a gilded train idles, sputtering smoke into the dense white canopy. It must be midafternoon—I slept well through the morning, thanks to Will—but the scant light that filters through the leaves is gray.

“Nowhere,” one of the Bloodknights answers. His helmet differs slightly from his comrade’s, so I assume this is Flynn speaking, not the silent, brooding Bloodknight Gabriel who sat in the carriage beside Titus. Flynn’s voice is oddly pleasant—light and friendly and somewhat disarming. “One of the king’s many private boarding platforms in one of the many abandoned woods of the Eerie.”

“Abandoned?” I murmur. “How could the woods be abandoned?”

Although their eyes are mostly covered, I sense Gabriel and Flynn share a look.

“Myths,” Will explains, his expression neutral. “They fled these woods hundreds of years ago.”

Titus surveys the woods, his mouth twisted with something akin to disgust. “Whatever creatures my ancestors failed to exterminate, anyway.” He performs the role of the cruel, haughty prince with such ease; I have to remind myself it’s all an act. Without so much as a glance in my direction, Titus starts toward the boarding platform, beckoning Will with a simple nod. “Wait here,” he says to Gabriel and Flynn. “Watch her.”

I stand between Gabriel and Flynn on the old, rotting platform, my arms wrapped tightly across my chest to keep from shivering. I was made to wear dirty rags and commanded not to bathe before the Starchaser made port along the Cutthroat Coast. I was supposed to look the part of a distressed prisoner. And I can tell, by the uncomfortable silence, that these Bloodknights fully believe that the king doesn’t plan on knighting me because he thinks me deserving. Me—a weak, scared little girl who needed to be rescued. A traitorous wretch who needs to be watched carefully, lest she attempt to flee.

Good. I love to be underestimated.

“Miss—” The word has only just left Flynn’s mouth when an arrow whizzes past my ear.

Gabriel pushes me behind him as the two Bloodknights draw their scarlet weapons. Flynn hefts a crossbow from his back, while Gabriel unsheathes two massive swords from bloodred scabbards at either hip.

“Get her inside!” Gabriel shouts, his rasping voice grating against my eardrums as he shoves me toward Flynn.

Flynn pulls on the same door Titus and Will used to enter the train only minutes ago, but it doesn’t budge. “It’s locked!”

“Damnit,” Gabriel grunts. An arrow pings off his shoulder. “Cover me!”

Gabriel charges into the woods, moving with surprising speed and agility despite his armor, and a moment later, I lose sight of him in the tangle of thickets.

The barrage of arrows stops the instant Gabriel enters the woods, the eerie silence of the forest now deafening. Flynn shifts, standing in front of me. His head swivels left, right. Leaves rustle nearby, and he aims his crossbow in the direction Gabriel disappeared, but the Bloodknight never reemerges. Flynn takes a step toward the thicket, and instinctively, I watch his back, focusing on the thick, snow-covered undergrowth, where shadows seem to seep from the darkness.…

“Behind—!” I start, but I’m too late.

Flynn turns to look behind him, his crossbow raised, but the dark figure has overtaken him, knocking his weapon onto the platform. The assailant straddles the Bloodknight, but I can’t see its face. I can’t really see it at all. It’s as if the figure is made of shadows—a manifestation of darkness itself.

What I can see is the wicked-looking dagger in its blurred grasp, its blade, inscribed with ancient script, festering with green energy that almost seems… alive. The weapon itself whispers, too low for me to hear, in a voice that chills me to the bone.

My gut tells me the assailant is an Underling, but it looks different from any Sylk or Shifter I’ve seen. Those have always possessed a host, or transformed into a human or animal, and this creature of shadows appears like something else entirely. I can sense the evil radiating from it and instinctively understand this is another kind of Underling, and I watch in horror as it plunges its dagger into one of the thin grates that cover the Bloodknight’s left eye.

Flynn’s scream is deafening.

The Underling fixes its glowing red eyes on me. Cocks its shadowy head.

Flynn’s crossbow landed at my feet, but I’m not fast enough to retrieve it, so I remain perfectly still. Take a deep breath. Attempt to calm my frenzied heart.

The blood pounding in my ears drowns out the sound of Flynn’s agony.

“Has my brother sent you to collect me?” I whisper, too low for the Bloodknight to hear.

The assailant rises in one fluid motion, shedding the veil of shadows, which dissipate as if he merely removed a cloak. Before me stands a slender, masculine frame, his clothing made of what appears to be black bandages, and the same black gauze obscures his face, covering everything but his now golden eyes.

He grips the glowing dagger in his gloved fist, the green energy appearing to lap at his hand, his wrist, his forearm.

“Leave the Eerie,” comes a deep, raw voice, “or meet your death.”

My palms itch for the feel of metal in my grasp. Blast Will and Titus for insisting I remain unarmed!

“You can’t harm me,” I say slowly, glancing at his cursed dagger.

His eyes narrow. “Dangerous to assume,” he says, his voice like gravel.

“I’m protected.” I swallow hard, careful not to touch my bracelet and draw attention to the trinket—the band of braided leather that each of my family wears and Owen revealed was imbued with magic strong enough to dispel an Underling’s attack. “By an enchantment. No harm can come to me by an Underling’s hand.”

His golden eyes flash with what looks like amusement. “Who said anything about Underlings?”

The door to the train groans, as if someone was trying to unlock it from the inside.

“Open the damned thing!” I hear Titus’s muffled voice through the metal door.

“It’s jammed!” comes another voice from within.

The assailant takes another step toward me, closing the gap between us.

“Leave,” he rasps, “or die.”

The door to the train compartment sounds as if it’s been torn from its hinges. The assailant whirls, consumed by shadows once more, and before I can even register the movement, he vanishes.

Titus stands in the doorway to the train compartment, his eyes wide as he surveys the platform. His gaze first lands on Flynn’s writhing form and Gabriel, who reappeared moments after the assailant vanished, now calling for aid as he kneels over his fallen comrade. Then Titus spots me, his expression wild.

“Get inside,” he says quickly, his voice hoarse. He grabs me by the arm and hauls me into the compartment, past the group of officers clustered there, half-dragging me down the narrow corridor. I scarcely gather my bearings enough to notice the doors lining one side, but I realize we must be in a sleeping car.

Titus doesn’t stop until we enter another compartment—another sleeping car by the looks of it. He peers over his shoulder, glancing all around, before opening the door to a small, private cabin, pulling me inside.

He grabs my other arm, turning to look in my direction. His eyes