Page 1 of Court of Bone and Amethyst

Part One

Chapter One

Sarielle

When dawn breaksin wide, amber streaks across the ocean, we are still alive.

I am already awake and standing at the bow of theGolden Hawk. Sleep had abandoned me hours before, what little of it I managed. Alone in the small bed in the room we’d bartered for, while my new husband slept in the chair across the room. Rather, my guardian. Husband is a word I’m still not comfortable with.

I’m not sure what won the battle for robbing me of the most sleep: fearing for our lives, or warring with my broken heart.

“We’re heading into port,” the captain says, striding up behind me, his sudden appearance and gruff voice making my shoulders tense.

Across the upper deck at the bow of the ship, I catch sight of Zyren leaning against the railing, staring in the opposite direction. He’d followed me when I’d risen from bed and come above deck, but he hadn’t spoken a single word or so much as looked at me. The truce we’d made the night before seems more fragile than spun sugar.

“What city?” I ask, ripping my gaze from Zyren and turning to face the captain.

He flicks his green eyes to mine, a slight frown on his sunburned lips. “Tor Tyrnien. I assume you’ll be disembarking there.”

My brow furrows. “Why do you…”

Zyren appears abruptly at my side. “Yes, we will,” he says to the captain.

I clamp my mouth firmly shut as the captain nods and strides off. Maybe if Zyren would speak tome, I’d have a better idea of what our plan is. Which would be nice considering our lives are very much in danger, with warriors from House Septarus hunting us.

But before I can voice my thoughts, Zyren moves away from me again, down to the middle deck of the ship amidst the crewman who are busy preparing the ship for harbor. Tears sting my eyes, but the icy morning air rips them away, not gently in the least. My black cloak whips out behind me, and the gray silk dress I’d been wearing since yesterday—my wedding dress—clings to my ribcage, my thighs, my ankles.

Everything that happened in the last two days is still a maelstrom in my mind.

I’m so deep in the churn of my thoughts, it’s not until the crewmen drop anchor and connect a gangplank from the ship to the dock that I blink and realize we’re already in port. Seabirds with long green tail feathers swoop back and forth overhead, and the smell of salt and smoke floods my nose. The crew call back and forth to each other and the captain reappears, welcoming me to Tor Tyrnien and offering his arm to walk across the gangplank.

“Unless your husband prefers to escort you,” he says hastily as Zyren approaches again.

Zyren’s face is impassive. “By all means,” he says stonily.

My heart sinks. Our marriage was one of necessity, and it’s clear he wants as little to do with me as possible.

When we reach the dock, the captain bids us farewell and Zyren steps up behind me as I continue down the long wooden walkway toward the city. Tor Tyrnien rises before us, and for a moment, my awe consumes the other thoughts swirling in my head. I have seen only one other city in my life, Selaye, where my abandoned throne now lies. A throne that Avonia is now sitting on, if she’s not hunting us herself.

Tor Tyrnien makes Selaye look like a tiny township in comparison.

It rises from the shoreline like a giant wave washing over the land, stretching high into the hills beyond. Buildings of pale gray stone with azure-tiled roofs, or domes of clear glass or pale green crystal, streets of white tile. Small trees here and there, and gardens of deep purple flowers, the occasional pop of yellow. Silver wind chimes glimmer at almost every house, their music filling the air. Vast and beautiful and wondrous, stretching nearly to the horizon.

Staring at it, it hits me forcibly: I am among the fae now. And I,myself,am fae. Which feels so strange and unnatural. So many things about Valaron feel like home to me, but in this moment, with this huge city before me, strange magic stirring in my core, and Zyren not speaking to me, I’ve never felt so alone.

I must have stopped walking without realizing it because Zyren’s hand cups my elbow and he presses me forward. “We shouldn’t stop here,” he says with a low growl. “And stop looking around at everything. You’re drawing attention.”

My words come out with a snarl to match. “Perhaps you’d like to share where we’re going?”

He ignores the accusation in my tone. “We’re heading to the home of an ally. We’ll be safe there. For a time.”

We’ve reached the end of the dock, and I open my mouth to retort, but my words are swept away as Zyren steers me into the busy street. There are people bustling everywhere, some walking, some riding horses, others atop carriages, and more lined up along the edges of the dockyard selling fish and other wares from the sea. The noise of the crowd presses in around me: voices and hoofbeats and wagon wheels and something hammering against metal.

Zyren waves down one of the carriages, a tall one with a roof and a door in the side, painted shiny black. I’d seen carriages like this coming and going from the Amethyst Palace back in Eldare, usually when the High Priest traveled. Never did I imagine I’d be the one riding in such a thing. The driver hops down from his seat at the front and opens the door for me, and I climb awkwardly inside, trying not to step on my dress and fall. Zyren climbs in behind me, graceful as usual, and then we are moving through the bustling city.

We travel for around a quarter hour. Zyren doesn’t speak, so I stare out the small window in wonder, watching the enormous city pass us by. I wonder how this city compares to the capital city of Eldare in size and splendor. And thinking of Eldare makes me think of Lilette and wonder what has transpired in the Amethyst Palace since I left. It’s only been a little over two weeks, but it seems a lifetime. Who was chosen as High Priestess in my stead when Zyren spirited me away? I truly hope it’s not Lilette. I would never forgive myself if I caused such a fate for her. Despite the dire situation I now find myself in, my vow to return to her and end the reign of the High Priest still burns furiously in my core.

“You can pull over here.”

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