Page 1 of The Death King

PROLOGUE I

CALISTA

The stone hearth was ablaze with flames, burning the dry logs of wood and filling the room with a quiet crackle that would normally lull me to sleep, even in the middle of the day. The book was open between my fingertips, but I read the same line more than once. I read it at least ten times, but I didn’t absorb it one bit.

My eyes kept flicking up…to look at him.

My father.

He sat behind his desk, strong shoulders slouched, his elbow propped on the velvet armrest with his fingertips across his lips. His eyes weren’t on the fire but a random spot across his study. His stare was so focused, he hadn’t blinked in over a minute. I’d seen my father like this many times, absorbed in the stress of ruling our kingdom. But tonight was different.

I could feel it.

The tension was taut like a rope about to snap in the middle. It was sharp like the edge of a new blade. It was heavy like the summer air mixed with rain. I examined the side of his face and stared at the lines of dismay.

Quick footsteps sounded in the hallway, growing louder as they approached the study, heavy combat boots worn by a menacing soldier.

My father slowly lowered his hand and stared at the door, his spine straightening as his posture lifted.

I lowered the book to my lap, knowing something was about to happen.

The doors burst open without preamble. They flung apart and slammed against the wall behind them, denting the paint. Lieutenant Finney burst into the room, his breathing labored like he’d run all the way here from the border. Without a glance at me, he moved to the desk and blurted the news to my father. “Kravensworth has fallen.”

The book slipped from my hands altogether. It hit the rug at my feet with a quiet thud. I stared down at it as I swallowed.

My father rose to his feet with purpose, as if he was prepared to storm out of the castle and raise his sword in battle. But he stood there for several seconds, staring at his lieutenant in heavy silence. “How?” He swallowed. “The walls of the capital are impenetrable, fortified by more soldiers than all of our nations combined…” Normally, he would dismiss me from these discussions because of my age, but he knew he couldn’t shield me from what was to come.

Lieutenant Finney continued to breathe heavily, drops of perspiration visible on his shiny forehead. “Their king rides upon a dragon.”

The room was already quiet, but it somehow quieted even further.

My eyes moved back to the book I’d dropped, as if sparing my sight of the moment would shield my mind too.

“They say he has powers.” The lieutenant held my father’s gaze.

“What kinds of powers?” my father asked. “All magic died with the mages…”

Lieutenant Finney didn’t answer for a long time.

My eyes lifted to look at him, anxious for the silence to end.

He still didn’t answer, as if he didn’t want to give the news. “He can command the dead.”

I hadn’t spoken a word since the conversation had begun, but a quiet gasp escaped my lips when I failed to contain it. Kravensworth was the capital of our world, a beautiful port city to the south. The most powerful city in our nation, it protected us from assailants across the sea, pirates who had tried to loot our land for riches in the past. We submitted to its rule in exchange for protection.

But now, there was no one to protect us.

Instead of lowering himself back into the chair with grace, my father dropped down with a thud. He slouched, his hand returning to his clenched mouth. “What does he want?” He spoke in a whisper, like it was only meant for himself to hear.

“I don’t know,” Lieutenant Finney said. “But I know he’ll come for us next.”

From that moment on, the kingdom prepared for war.

A war we had no chance of winning.

Every able-bodied man over the age of sixteen was enlisted to fight. They were given a single day of combat training from the veteran soldiers then given a sword and flimsy armor to protect their skin. All the good armor was already taken, and there simply wasn’t enough for everyone else.

I was a fifteen-year-old girl. Too young to fight and too physically weak to contribute in any meaningful way. All I could do was sit there and watch my father slowly die from the poison of stress. We couldn’t evacuate, not when there was nowhere to flee, not when the Death King would hunt us from the skies.

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