Oaths & Vengeance chapters 1-2 and character art

I’m excited to share the first two chapters of Oaths & Vengeance with you all. My beta readers have been enthusiastic about the novel and have given great feedback. It’s headed to my editor this weekend after I finish some final revisions. In the meantime, I’ve got a sneak peek of the intro chapters for you. You’ll also find character art and an official world map for this series at the end. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

Aella

Tending my garden took a lot of time and patience, considering half my plants were sentient and temperamental. They couldn’t speak, but they expressed their feelings in other ways. The spittlestalk I focused on now was thankfully in a good mood. It rubbed its soft pink petals against my cheeks as I pulled weeds around it. A full flower was larger than a person’s head and contained toxic elements inside, so it was a little intimidating when it became affectionate—like being kissed by a venomous snake.

This particular species sprouted a few weeks ago at the start of spring and had grown to two feet tall already. While they usually died at the approach of summer, I could make the blooms last through early fall by strategically placing them in the shadier areas of the garden and keeping the soil moist. Also, they didn’t like competition with each other. I had to space each plant about ten feet apart to ensure they didn’t vie for the specific nutrients they required from the soil. They could get quite temperamental otherwise and cause trouble in the garden.

If anyone they didn’t know or like came close to the spittlestalks, they would spray a thick cloud of poisonous yellow pollen. For elves, they ended up with extreme stomach cramps and severe migraines for several days. A large dose could even kill them. For druids, they would suffer from blurred vision and vertigo. I had no idea why each race reacted differently, but since I was half of both, I got a milder form of all the side effects at once.

It only took an incident when I was seventeen—fifteen years ago—to learn my lesson. Over time, I’d become more adept at tending beautiful yet dangerous plants. There were many safer species that other fae preferred to cultivate, but I liked the challenge, and the garden was my sanctuary.

Creating an inhospitable environment kept visitors from entering my space uninvited. The twelve-foot-high ivory-colored stone walls surrounding it also helped. It was mostly peaceful at the rear end of the castle, aside from occasionally overhearing the kitchen servants on the north side if they were handling outdoor food preparation or grilling.

“Ow!” a male voice said.

I jerked my gaze toward the garden entryway with its high arch and fought a grin. My cousin, Tadeus, had only made it one step inside before two of my crunchertraps—one on each side of the stone path—began snapping at him. One had left a small cut on his hand from him not retreating quickly. They could extend their stalks just enough to reach the entrance and frighten people away.

Under normal conditions, they only bloomed in the fall. Since it was mid-spring, they shouldn’t have been growing at all, but I’d worked out a regimen for the carnivorous plants to keep them thriving year-round. They were among the smartest species in all of Paxia, our planet, and made excellent guards. If one earned their loyalty, they wouldn’t hesitate to defend them. I tended mine like they were my children.

Tadeus looked nervously at my sentries. He knew better than to come into the garden, but he must have had something important on his mind to make him forget. I noted his coppery-red hair, which he always kept a few inches long, wasn’t perfectly groomed like usual and appeared as if he’d raked his fingers through it many times. His ivory skin was flushed with a light sheen of sweat, and his pointed ears were tinged red. He was upset or nervous since either of those emotions would affect him that way.

I noticed Tadeus wore his forest-green and brown battle garb, a black armor chest plate with a yellow hippogriff emblazoned on its surface, and a full complement of weapons strapped on him. He was a tall, fit man who appeared even larger now. There was only one reason he’d have dressed that way and rushed to see me.

I rose stiffly to face him. “Is there an attack?”

“Yes.” He lifted his ocean blue eyes to mine, gaze softening. “Father demanded that I bring you immediately. We have little time to intercept if we hope to save Palbour.”

I exhaled a breath. For the last six months, peace had reigned. Not because the leaders worked out a treaty or because the king intervened. The conflict between Therress and Veronna—rival lands within our kingdom—had been ongoing for nearly five centuries since Therress rebelled and claimed independence from Veronna. We’d grown tired of either paying higher taxes or sending our soldiers to die in a war with the dark elves that didn’t affect us.

We had breaks now and then, such as recently, to recover and rebuild from losses, but this one hadn’t lasted as long as I’d hoped. The previous truce endured for almost two years. I should have known we wouldn’t make it that long again before the greedy Veronnians came after us again. Why couldn’t they understand we wanted to be left alone?

“Okay, I’ll hurry and change.”

He shook his head. “No time. I’ve already ordered your mount readied, and I know you can protect yourself with your magic. That will be enough since Father always keeps you guarded and away from the fighting anyway.”

I supposed it didn’t matter if I showed up for a battle with dirt-encrusted fingernails and a loose brown tunic and pants—my standard gardening attire. Everyone else would be filthy soon enough. I only wished I could have had time to change into something with a bit more protection. The clashes had only reached me a couple of times over the years, but I’d thankfully worn the right wardrobe in those instances, or else I would have been severely injured.

Giving the spittlestalk’s pink petals a last caress, I rushed from the garden. We moved away from Ivory Castle toward the portal ring near the western wall. The castle received its name more than a thousand years ago when my ancestors built it, along with the rest of the keep, using stones of that light, creamy color from a nearby quarry. Tadeus led me past the training area and barracks at a near run. He was the only male cousin I liked, and he was always kind to me. His older brother was vicious, much like his father, and he enjoyed finding ways to demean me.

Finally, we arrived at a large, open field used for public events and mustering troops. Armed fae and their war horses filled most of the trampled space where grass didn’t stand a chance to grow. Shock filled me since we only had two hundred stationed here full-time, which meant my uncle must have requisitioned more from Tradain, where we housed the main army.

Tadeus and I worked our way over to the portal gate—also known as a faery ring by outsiders—past rows and rows of elves on their mounts, along with fae of various races on foot. They all wore matching green and black uniforms, dark plate armor with the hippogriff crest, and a complement of weapons and shields strapped to their bodies. It seemed they’d waited until the last moment to call for me, and now I had no time to prepare.

Why was I not surprised? I was always an afterthought until it was time to leave, and no one else in the keep could channel a portal to a border village and maintain it long enough for several hundred troops to pass.

Tadeus led me to the side of the gate where my bay mare, Astra, waited. He handed me a small pouch of the holmium I needed to work my magic, and I clutched the precious mineral tightly. Through the thin, black cloth, I could feel its hum of energy. Few fae could use the finely ground ore for their magic, but it was a necessity for opening portals.

I mounted my horse, wanting to be ready to leave directly after the regiment. Carefully, I poured a third of the powder onto my palm before pocketing the bag. Drawing a deep breath, I began chanting and extended my hand toward the dark silver ring that stood twice as high as me on my mare. Ivory-colored support stones held it upright. Seventeen dark gray algodonite stones about the size of my palm were evenly spaced around the circle, each displaying a different symbol carved into their flattened surface.

Directing my magic with a stream of golden light, the soft beam touched the five relevant ones in a sequence that would initiate a link to Palbour. Within my palm, the powder dissolved as I began to channel and form a connection. If I measured it right, only a few grains would remain to brush away once I formed the connection.

When I started using my gift as an adolescent, it took me several minutes to open a portal to border villages two hundred or more miles away. Now, it only took me ten seconds. My power had grown considerably since it first developed nearly twenty years ago. It also helped that I had a lot of practice and had become the best in the realm at doing it. Only a few people I trusted knew exactly how good I’d become. I kept that a secret, or else my family would use me in ways that would stain my soul.

The air popped as the massive ring filled with a shimmering blue light. The width was twenty feet at the center, allowing four to five mounted soldiers to pass through at a time. My uncle Morgunn, the Lord of Therress, sat atop his smoky black stallion and began shouting orders for the lead troops to depart. His eldest son, Ulmar, sat mounted next to him with a calculating look on his face. That was his most common expression and didn’t necessarily mean anything.

As soon as the first riders—all elves—entered the ring, they disappeared. The next group went through a few seconds later. Everyone else followed, departing in a steady progression with satyrs and then foot soldiers at the end. The last section consisted of multiple races, so there were quite a few height variances and different musculatures among them. The shortest ones—dwarves—formed the rear line, primarily used for defense and evacuating the wounded.

The spell drained me but at a slow trickle. For this one, at the distance I bridged, I could keep it open far longer than it would take for three hundred and twenty soldiers and horses to pass.

As the line of fae troops came near the end, Lord Therress gave me a brief scowl. What had I done to annoy him this time? Ulmar had a pleased glint in his eyes that said he knew and couldn’t wait for me to find out. That didn’t bode well.

“Why are they looking at me like that?” I asked Tadeus in a whisper, no longer needing to chant now that my magic held steady.

He looked at me apologetically. “From what I heard this morning, Father is arranging a betrothal for you. I don’t know who he’s chosen, but my brother bragged that you’ll hate him and likely protest.”

Several available men were within my uncle’s close circle of allies and friends, but none were remotely appealing. He tended to affiliate with cruel, greedy types who enjoyed inflicting pain on others. A shudder ran through me. “I’ll find a way out of it.”

“You know he won’t give you a choice.” Tadeus gripped his reins tightly. “If I knew how to help, I would, but he never listens to me.”

True, since he barely tolerated his youngest son. “It’s okay. Thanks for the thought.”

“Of course.”

My younger cousin and I were the last to go behind my uncle and Ulmar, so the portal closed behind us. Transport wasn’t quite instant, but since the distance wasn’t too far, it only took a few seconds to appear on the other side. Despite the dizzying colors as we moved lightning fast, it didn’t affect us or our mounts. It was only on the first few occasions that people and animals experienced a bit of vertigo, but the transition was so smooth that everyone quickly grew accustomed to it.

Tadeus and I guided our mounts from the ring. My uncle, his eldest son, and his three captains shouted orders at the troops ahead of us. They’d moved out of the way of the ring to allow us room. We were at the top of a hill covered in trampled blue-green grass, and below in the valley, less than a mile away, lay the village of Palbour.

It wasn’t large and only had five hundred residents, but we had to protect those people. Just because I didn’t have any love for my uncle didn’t mean I wouldn’t do anything for our people, which he knew very well.

Veronna’s army wouldn’t hesitate to burn everything to the ground. They had done it in the past when our Therressian troops didn’t intercept them in time, but that problem had stopped since my uncle began using me to move his soldiers quickly. Our other four portal channelers could only funnel their magic for five to fifteen minutes to reach this distance, depending on their power level, which didn’t allow as many soldiers to get through. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d hit my limit, but it had been a few years.

I became a valuable asset when I developed my abilities and proved stronger than average. Lord Morgunn had pushed me hard to develop my talent even before I lost my father and subsequently moved into Ivory Castle with his family.

Tadeus gave me a nod. “See you when this is over.”

“Take care,” I said, forcing myself to give him an encouraging smile. He was an excellent fighter, no matter what his father said. The real trouble was that he killed cleanly and not cruelly like his older brother. I couldn’t figure out how they came from the same parents.

He nudged his horse into a gallop and joined the rest of the forces ahead.

In the distance, I scanned the Sobaryan Mountain range that cut directly through most of the Realm of Zadrya, our kingdom, and defined some of the land borders. The violet peaks were so high that hazy clouds obscured them. Veronna lay on the other side, but they didn’t have a strong portal opener like me. Whenever they wanted to attack us, they had to use one of three passes between us and make it past the border sentries that we kept stationed in camps up top.

Our people could see them long before they reached the top of the trails, and they usually sent a warning to us through sebeskas—birds that had cerulean feathers tipped in black with white underbellies. Then, we could deploy forces quickly to intercept them before they reached the base of the mountains. Something stopped those sentries this time. Veronnian forces must have used a new magic spell on them, and we didn’t have a counter for it yet since I couldn’t think of any other reason for the lack of early warning.

Each border town close to a pass also maintained an observation point near the foot of the mountains to watch for adversary troop movement and receive alerts from those above. I assumed the ground tower was the one to contact my uncle’s top military commander. Their later warning meant we couldn’t intercept in time, and they’d already begun attacking the village when we arrived. Smoke rose from where several buildings burned, and faint screams reached our distant position, filling me with dread.

My vision was good, but I had to squint to catch sight of the Veronnian forces. They were almost as numerous as ours. Therressian captains led their soldiers, racing to meet the enemy on the outskirts of town. They needed to move quickly if they hoped to keep the battle from going deeper into the village and burning more homes. I could no longer make out my uncle in the throng, but I spotted each of my cousins on opposite flanks.

One soldier stayed behind with me. While I had some training, I was too valuable to risk sending into the fight. Still, I nudged Astra toward a closer hill rise for a better look. It was too difficult to observe much near the portal ring.

Off to the north, I noted a sizeable section of dry, withered land that stood out from the surrounding blue-green grass. I hadn’t visited Palbour in nearly five years, but there had been flourishing crops in that area before. It appeared the ever-spreading blight had also made its way to this part of Therress. The farms to the south of the village continued to thrive, but for how long? The amount of food we produced declined with each passing year, which worried me deeply. We had no way to stop it.

I forced my attention back to the immediate threat. My guard and I had reached the most ideal point to observe the battle, and my uncle’s forces had just clashed with our enemy. Swords rang as soldiers attacked each other, and flashes of magic in various forms and colors flew across the ranks. Some would blind opponents, others would cause pain, and still more would cause various injuries or afflictions. Fae battles were merciless and gruesome. We were on higher ground, which gave us a clear view of the terrible things they did to each other.

Normally, our army would have used offensive range magic first, but there was no time to prepare. Instead, it came down to a close-quarter battle in which our enemy excelled.

One man stood out on a large dapple-gray mount. His hair was a brindled mixture of brown and onyx black, sunlight glinting from the strands hanging over the sides of his face. His shoulders were broad. I knew that for certain because, unlike everyone else on the battlefield, he only wore light armor without the heavy metal plates most preferred for protection. His olive and black Veronnian army uniform was snug, molding around his muscular build. I wished I could see the details of his face, but the distance was too great for that.

He raised his arms toward the Therressian frontline, fingers outstretched. I watched in horror as six of our foot soldiers lifted into the air, kicking their feet but finding no purchase. With a twist of his hands, their heads spun clockwise until their necks cracked. They fell to the ground in a heap, dead before impact.

I gasped, realizing who he must be. “Is that Lord Gannon’s second son, Darrow?”

“It is.” My guard’s lips thinned. “It’s been years since we last faced him, and it’s bad news for us that he’s here today.”

“He’ll decimate us at the rate he can kill,” I whispered, a chill running down my spine.

The soldier’s eyes reflected the same anxiety I felt. “It appears that way.”

Darrow was his father’s second son from a subsequent marriage after his first wife died in childbirth. He was known to be powerful and ruthless on the battlefield. The fact that he was half dark elf made him especially dangerous because they weren’t known for compassion or mercy. He and his twin sister had been the products of a failed peace treaty agreement between our realm, Zadrya, and Karganoth—the realm of the dark elves that lay across the sea to the west.

I recalled that he had fought in battles against us during the first few years I’d begun opening portals. The last time I could remember seeing him was over a decade ago, when I was in my early twenties. He’d been a ruthless killer even back then but couldn’t break that many men simultaneously before. Like most fae, he would continue growing stronger for a few more years until he reached fifty and peaked.

I had family and friends out there who would die if this elf targeted them. No one on our side had magic that could counteract Darrow’s without getting too close, but of course, he was surrounded by elite soldiers so that he could do his dirty work without interference.

A risky idea occurred to me. There was something I could do if I were brave enough, and right now, I needed to push past my usually passive role. Too many people would die if I didn’t.

When a high fae’s magic first appeared as an adolescent, they could only perform lesser spells that were a prelude to something bigger that would develop over the coming year. I started with wind and light power, which later combined to form portal channeling. Although I rarely had cause to use those, I did practice them since they worked well as a defense when I needed it, especially wind.

Darrow was lifting another handful of our soldiers into the air. If I didn’t hit him immediately, they’d die in the next few moments. I let go of Astra’s reins and raised my hands, focusing on the half-light/half-dark elf, and pulled the air around me. In a streamlined burst, I sent it straight at him.

Just as he began to twist his hands to kill the soldiers, it struck him full in the chest. He went flying backward off his horse. The Therressian soldiers he’d targeted next dropped to the ground at the same time—shaken but alive. Darrow landed on his butt ten feet behind his mount and skidded to a stop in a plume of dust.

I grinned, pleased that years of weekly practice with my wind power had finally paid off. That was far more satisfying than directing it at leaves and other inanimate objects. I had used it in self-defense a time or two, but never at such a distance.

“Well done, my lady,” my guard said, giving me a respectful nod. “That certainly distracted him and gave our people a chance.”

“Thank you.”

We watched with rapt attention as Darrow slowly rose to his feet and dusted off his uniform. I still couldn’t make out his features, but his rigid body language told me he was not pleased with what I’d done. He ran his gaze around his surroundings until it eventually fell on me. I waved and blew him a kiss.

Darrow lifted one arm toward me, and a moment later, I rose off my horse to hover a few feet above my mount. Shock filled me. I’d never dreamed he could extend his magic so far, but I couldn’t do anything to stop him. My heart raced as he slowly brought me forward like he had strings pulling me.

My guard’s voice sounded panicked as I floated away from Astra and him. “Lady Aella? Are you alright? What can I do?”

“I…uh,” I began.

My braid lifted and wrapped around my head, gagging my mouth. The floral taste of my cleanser coated my tongue. My locks stretched taut, pulling at my scalp enough to cause discomfort but not quite pain. With all my limbs immobilized, I couldn’t free myself. Did he seriously muzzle me with my own hair? Lord Gannon’s son was toying with me in the middle of a battle like I was a toy, but I couldn’t let him get away with it without a response.

I forced myself to calm down and think. Darrow hadn’t gripped my body so tightly that I couldn’t breathe or make minute movements. Slowly spreading my fingers, I gathered the surrounding air once more. After I gained enough, I hit him with a burst of wind again. It didn’t slam into him as hard as the first time, but it did send him stumbling back. The hold on me evaporated. I dropped to the ground, knees buckling, and my breath nearly knocked from me. At least nothing was broken.

“It’s okay,” I said, hands trembling as I straightened. “He had me for a moment there.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t draw his attention again,” my guard advised.

I cleared my throat, hoping no one else saw what happened. “Yeah. I think that was more than enough distraction.”

I got back onto my horse and looked for my nemesis. Darrow also sat on his mount again and stared in my direction. It was hard to tell his expression, but I couldn’t miss the kiss he blew toward me, especially since I felt the lightest touch on my cheek. Our displays of power had definitely been an amusing game to him. I worried he’d try something else as he continued to stare at me, but just then, my uncle’s forces broke through his ranks. My diversion had worked.

Darrow had to shift his focus to defending himself and forgetting about me. He sent the first few Therressian soldiers flying away, but after that, he drew his sword and slashed at his opponents. I watched with rapt attention at how brutally efficient he was, even without magic. It would have been awe-inspiring if he wasn’t wounding and killing our forces.

A half-hour passed, with numerous soldiers on both sides dead and dozens more wounded. Veronna’s regiment finally called for a retreat. They rushed toward the mountain pass half a mile behind them, using the horses who’d lost their riders to carry their dead and wounded. We’d have to deliver any remaining bodies they hadn’t quickly grabbed to our mutual border later—a strict law enforced by Zadrya’s king.

Lord Morgunn finally reappeared on the right side of the battlefield. I always lost track of him during the fighting, but now he glared at our enemies’ backs, likely considering whether to follow. Then, he took in the state of his troops. If he saw things the way I did, he had to realize this was one of the deadliest battles we’d faced in years. He needed to take care of his injured soldiers so they could live to fight another day. Attempting to continue the fight in the mountain pass would be lunacy, especially with Darrow present.

My uncle shouted an order I couldn’t make out from my position. When I noticed everyone sheathing their weapons, I breathed a sigh of relief. He’d chosen not to pursue the enemy. I prayed to the nameless ones that I didn’t have to see the half-dark elf across a battlefield ever again—once had been enough.

A short while later, Lord Morgunn rode his horse up to mine. “What were you thinking, Aella? Darrow could have killed you and left us without a strong portal opener. He’s well aware you are an asset to us.”

Of course, I didn’t matter personally, but losing the use of my abilities would be tragic.

“He didn’t kill me, and I kept him distracted long enough for you to break his ranks,” I said, meeting his gaze. It was a rare moment of defiance since I tried not to draw my uncle’s wrath too often. He always made me regret it.

“That’s the only reason I won’t punish you this time.” He pulled his horse alongside Astra. “But if you do it again, you’ll find your magic bound for the next month.”

I was thirty-two years old, but under fae law, he could still treat me like a child. Highborn females had few rights. It didn’t matter to Lord Morgunn that if I hadn’t interfered, he and all his troops would likely be dead right now.

He refused to acknowledge that I had been the one to take on the most powerful elf on the battlefield and lived to tell the tale. Of course, I couldn’t imagine why Darrow didn’t kill me unless perhaps I was too far away, or maybe he’d intended to draw out my death but became distracted when the fighting drew too close to him. It was impossible to say. I was only glad that my rare show of overt courage helped and didn’t end in my death.

“Of course, my lord.” I lowered my gaze, playing the game I’d been forced to learn from an early age. “It won’t happen again.”

His stern gaze burned into me. “See that it doesn’t. Now, get the portal open. We have dead and wounded to transport.”

Chapter 2

Aella

I sat in my chambers in comfortable silence, reading. My room was small compared to most, with ivory-colored stone walls typical of the entire castle and a single burgundy and gold rug to take the chill from the floor and add a little color. There was just enough space for a small bed, wardrobe, chest, and nightstand.

One side had a fireplace, so nothing could be put in front of it except a footstool. I was grateful the window caught the evening light perfectly, so at least I could curl up and read romantic tales without needing a fae lantern. It also afforded a perfect view of my garden below. I was the only one with a direct line of sight to it, and it was one of the few kindnesses my uncle had ever done for me since I moved here at fourteen years old.

I’d spent well over half my life here now. My father, who was the general of the Therressian army at the time, had died nineteen years ago in one of the many battles against the Veronnians. Lord Gannon had killed him with fire magic that burned most of his body so severely that I’d only been able to identify him by a birthmark on his ankle where the flames had missed. I’d had nightmares for months after seeing him that way.

My mother—the one who’d given me my druid half—had passed a year and a half before him. One of her greatest passions was searching for the Naforya Fountain, a vital artifact our world lost more than six centuries ago. We desperately needed it before circumstances became even worse on our planet as the land slowly died. While on a trip to the Oarwar desert in the south, looking for answers, one of the powerful sand snakes living there attacked her and her five traveling companions. They weren’t like the ones we might find in gardens, but rather, their bodies were nearly as wide as a small cottage, and they could grow to a hundred feet long.

She’d known it was dangerous, but she’d been desperate to find the fountain. My mother and three of her companions died battling the creature, with only two others surviving. They were the ones to bring us news of her demise.

With my brother falling in battle when I was only eight—killed by Lord Gannon’s firstborn son and heir, Hagon—I only had my older sister, Priyya, remaining. She’d fled for Alavaar—the druid continent to the east—right after our mother passed because she’d wanted nothing to do with the conflicts here and had a passion for dragons. Her healing magic for the beasts complemented being a caretaker for them. That was the only continent they lived on these days after too many died assisting fae in the early wars after we arrived two millennia ago. I usually visited Priyya once a month when my uncle allowed it, and I loved seeing them.

A knock sounded at my door.

I set my book down and moved to answer it, finding the castle healer on the other side. Briauna was an older elf who’d seen nearly two centuries. It was difficult to say how much longer she might live since our kind could survive anywhere between a hundred and fifty and two hundred fifty years old. Her long, white hair was pulled back into a bun, wrinkles lined her features, and she stooped a little in her blue muslin dress. I noted she was wringing her hands.

“What is it?” I asked.

She drew in a deep breath, sorrow in her blue gaze. “Rynn has not improved from the faebor fever. In fact, she’s looking worse tonight. I’d hoped she’d have improved by now, but this makes the third full day.”

My throat tightened. Every fae got the faebor fever sometime between the ages of eleven and thirteen when their magic first emerged within their body. The illness was a process that changed us so we could handle our new power, but unfortunately, a third of adolescents didn’t survive. Anyone who didn’t begin to improve by the end of the third day was guaranteed to die within two weeks in a painful, brutal fashion.

Like me, Rynn was an orphan. Her parents had died while on a sea voyage five years ago by one of the large serpents that live within the waters, so she had also been placed under our uncle’s guardianship. Her mother was his younger sister.

Though Lord Morgunn did his duty by taking us into his home as young, unwedded female relatives, he hardly paid attention to Rynn, and he only cared about me because of what I could do with my magic. We were bound to him until we got married and became the property of our husbands, per fae law concerning highborn ladies.

“I want to see her now,” I said, smoothing my skirt.

I wore one of my nicer ankle-length gowns with bell sleeves, a cinched waist, and a scooped neck top that revealed just a hint of cleavage. I’d planned to wear it to dinner that would be ready in an hour, but it didn’t matter now. I needed to visit my cousin. She’d already suffered so much in the twelve years of her life, and now this?

Briauna led me down the corridor to the central stairs. We took them up to the third floor and headed straight for Rynn’s room down the hall on the right. Like me, she had small chambers that gave her just enough space to meet her basic needs. Unlike me, she had brought more of her personal belongings when she came here, so her room was full of dolls, figurines, and toys.

Her parents had been merchants who exchanged goods with other realms across the world and had acquired gifts for her from many places before they passed away. She’d kept everything, whereas I’d only brought what could fit in a chest and held some importance because so much served as painful reminders of happier times. My parents had been strict, but they had loved their children and each other.

I moved closer to her bed and sucked in a breath. Her ivory skin was flushed bright red, and her blue eyes were glassy with fever. Even Rynn’s beautiful, wavy auburn hair had lost its luster and was plastered to her head and pillow from sweat.

“Hey, sweet girl,” I said, attempting a gentle smile.

While I’d seen her a couple of times a year when her parents brought her to visit, we’d become especially close after she moved into the castle. In a way, she felt more like a younger sister, and I’d grown to love her deeply. It was all I could do not to cry at seeing her this way.

Briauna had told me Rynn came down with the fever when I returned from the battle at Palbour a few days ago, but I’d thought she would make it just fine. She had always been so energetic and full of life. How could she not? I’d even sat with her that night to speculate what kind of magic she’d develop. Sometimes, it was hereditary, but at other times, gifts appeared that no one in that line had seen in centuries. My portal channeling was an example of that.

“Aella,” she spoke my name in a whisper. “Sorry, I’m not going to make it.”

I shook my head and drew strands of hair from her face. “Don’t say that. Maybe you’ll be better tomorrow, and we’re only off on the timing.”

It was a faint hope, but it had been known to happen a time or two—only never with Briauna attending the afflicted. She was the best healer in all Therress. If she said Rynn wouldn’t make it, she wouldn’t.

“Can I get some water?” my cousin asked, glancing at her nightstand where a full cup sat.

“Of course.”

I helped her sit up and brought the drink to her lips. From the scent, Briauna had added a few herbs. Likely things that would reduce Rynn’s discomfort and help her sleep more easily. There was little to be done aside from that.

As I laid her back down after finishing, I noticed her fingertips were beginning to darken, which was also a sign she wouldn’t survive. That blackness would slowly spread from her extremities to the rest of her body. When it reached her heart, that would be the end. Fae were generally healthy, and we healed fast, but nothing could stop the faebor fever.

During times like these, I dearly wished my mother had succeeded in finding the Naforya Fountain. Then, children like Rynn would have access to a cure and wouldn’t be forced to suffer like this. In some families, they would even poison the children before they reached the final, most painful stages to spare them the agony. I’d heard my uncle did that with his third son. That happened when I was only three years old, so I didn’t remember it.

What if he killed Rynn once he heard the news? He might not wait until she was truly in bad shape and finish her early. My gaze shot to Briauna. “You can’t tell Lord Morgunn.”

“I haven’t said anything yet.” She heaved a sigh. “But I can’t keep it from him for much longer, or you know he’ll be angry. Not unless…”

I frowned. “Unless what?”

“We’ll speak of it later,” she said in a curt tone.

I wondered what she meant but knew I’d have to wait. Instead, I continued talking to my cousin until her eyelids drooped, and she fell into a deep sleep. Only twenty minutes had passed since I entered her room, so she hadn’t lasted long. Despair filled me as Briauna followed me out the door.

“Your room,” she whispered, gesturing for me to take the lead.

I couldn’t imagine what she planned to tell me, but I did as she requested. Once we were inside my chambers, she gingerly sat on the window seat, and I took the stool in front of the fire. It still blazed with heat from when I’d stoked it earlier while reading. Springtime brought warm temperatures during the day, but in the evenings, it cooled quickly.

“So what did you mean by unless?” I asked.

Briauna smoothed her skirt. “You know there is no cure for the fever, and there’s nothing I can do to make it much easier on Rynn, but there is one person who might be able to help her.”

“What?” I sat up straighter. “Why have I never heard of this before?”

“Because that person is my sister, and her abilities are a closely guarded secret.”

Everyone knew she had an older sibling who left Therress more than a century and a half ago to marry an elf she fell for while visiting the king’s court. Unfortunately, he was Lord Gannon’s uncle in Veronna. Since our lands were mortal enemies, the two sisters rarely found a chance to see each other.

“Do you even know where she lives now?” I asked.

She shook her head. “We lost touch a few decades ago. I visited her when she lost her husband, but she was inconsolable and wanted to be alone, so I didn’t stay long. There is one person she was clearly close to then, and rumor has it he still looks after her when he’s able.”

I frowned. “Who?”

“Her great nephew, Darrow.”

I cursed under my breath. “Even under the best circumstances, he’ll never agree to speak to me peacefully, certainly not after our encounter a few days ago.”

“I thought you said you blew kisses at each other. It can’t be that bad if you managed such a thing on a battlefield,” she said with amusement in her eyes.

When I returned after the battle, I’d told her and Rynn all about our exchanging magical attacks. Since I was unharmed, we’d had a good laugh.

“We were toying with each other, not exchanging love letters.”

She nodded. “True, but if you could talk him into cooperating somehow, he could take you to my sister. Her greatest talent is healing incurable ailments, including faebor fever. I saw her do it several times myself before she left with her husband.”

“How have I never heard of this before?” It seemed like something everyone would know.

She rubbed her face. “Doing such work exacts a terrible price. It’s very hard on her body and requires rest for a week afterward. Her husband was protective and only allowed her to heal those who were truly deserving and would keep the secret. My family handled it the same way before that.”

My mind raced. There was a real way to cure Rynn out there, but how could I even take advantage of it? In what world would Darrow ever listen to me, much less agree to help? The very thought of facing the half-dark elf with his telekinetic powers was daunting. The chances of him going along with the plan were nearly as impossible as curing my cousin in some other way. He was a cold-blooded killer who’d snapped six soldiers’ necks so easily that he must lack a soul.

“He’ll never cooperate,” I said, a tear falling down my cheek. There were very few things I could count as good in my life, but Rynn was one of them.

Briauna stood and came over to me. “Maybe, maybe not. He is my sister’s favorite relative and the only person she tolerates, so there must be something redeemable about him. It’s up to you if you want to take the chance for your cousin.”

Hopelessness filled me. I skirted rules now and then, but I avoided doing anything that might border on treason. During my first few years at the castle, I’d learned the hard way what would happen if I made my uncle angry. Sneaking off to meet Darrow would definitely earn me severe punishment if I were caught.

The healer patted my head. “It’s a lot to consider. I’ll give you two days to decide what to do before I must inform Lord Morgunn.” I understood she didn’t want to anger him, either. “Thank you. I’ll let you know by then.”

Don’t forget to add Oaths & Vengeance to your Goodreads TBR list HERE!

For those of you in my Facebook fan group, the snippet you read a while back came from the beginning of chapter three.

Character art by Jesus Da Silva.

I asked the artist to convey the enemies-to-lovers vibe in the pose, with them struggling against their growing attraction to one another. Really excited with how it turned out!

Below is the world map for where this series takes place. The designer is working on another map that focuses only on Zadrya next, with more details, which will also be included in the novel.