Page 30 of Court of Bone and Amethyst

Zyren bristles. “It seems you have a great many misconceived notions about guardians.”

“Perhaps,” Owyn says with another smile. “Sleep well, you two.” And he ducks back out into the night.

I turn to face Zyren, my frustration from the last couple of days bubbling over. “What is your problem with Owyn? He’s done nothing but help us, save our life even, and all you do is needle him at every turn.”

Zyren’s face twists into an even deeper scowl. “He’s a smug know-it-all. And I don’t trust him.”

I’m shivering from the cold, so I sit down on the furs and pull the last two from the pile over the top of me. “Don’t trust him? He was my brother’s best friend. My mother trusted him. I think it’s more than safe to say he’s on our side.”

“Oh, he wants to be at your side, that’s for sure. Whether he can be trusted with your life is an entirely different matter.”

“What do you mean?” I snarl, happy the huts aren’t close enough together for Owyn and Merla to hear us arguing. That, plus the driving wind.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Zyren’s jaw rolls. “I think he wants a queen’s favor.”

“The way he looks at me? You’re being ridiculous right now.” I let out a bitter laugh. “What does it matter even if Owyn did look at me a certain way? You’ve made it clear there’s nothingbetween us. I am a woman, and I will have men look at me. And I may look at them. It shouldn’t matter to you.”

“Everythingyou do matters to me,” Zyren growls. “That’s what it means to be your guardian.”

I remember Merla’s words about honor, and I snap my teeth against the retort that threatens to surge out of me. “I’m done with this conversation. Good night.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Zyren retorts, sarcasm soaking his words.

He turns and lights both lanterns with his black flame, which I’m of half a mind to tell him doesn’t provide any heat whatsoever compared to Owyn’s. But I’m exhausted from arguing with him. I turn and open one of my saddle bags, pulling out the book I’d taken from my mother’s library. I’d taken it with me right before we fled the Court of Bone.

I’d initially gone back down to the library just to write my own note in the family book, perhaps the only note I’ll ever get a chance to write in it. It seemed vital that I make my mark, especially if, as chances are likely, I perish trying to defeat Avonia and take back my throne. But on my way back out of the library, another book called to me. A small book with a black leather cover embossed with ancient runes.

I hadn’t had a chance to look through it yet, being exhausted each night after our long rides and magical sparring. But I’m buzzing with energy right now after my argument with Zyren, so I run my fingers over the ridges of the strange symbols on the front of the book, and then I flip to the first page.

Book of Stars and Shadows

Written by Fenya Otreyas

Fenya… I remember that name from the family journal. She’d been one of the earliest entries, the granddaughter of my relativewho was separated from her nightmare lover after the spell had been cast to banish them behind the magical border. I run my fingers across her name, feeling the rough texture of the paper and the smooth lines of the ink across it. Then I begin to flip through the book.

It’s a book of spells, many mundane, but some extraordinary sounding. A spell to break ancient curses, a spell to turn day to night, a spell to summon the moon’s power. And then, I come across a spell that makes my throat run dry. Finally, an answer to a question I’d asked myself a million times: how had my mother cut a rift to Aureon and placed me there as a child? It’s right there on the page, staring up at me.

Spell to Cross Between Worlds

My heart races as I read the words, scrawled in Fenya’s elegant, lilting script.

A source of great power is needed; death magic, a celestial event, or a great sacrifice

Imbue a dagger with this power

Cut the sky until you find the path

Mental focus is key, or you may cross into the wrong world

The way will only stay open for fifty heartbeats

I stare at the words until I practically have them memorized. What do they mean exactly? So many parts of it are open to interpretation. My mother must have used the grief of her family’s deaths to fuel the spell. But how had she known where to take me? Or had it all been an accident?

My thoughts are interrupted as Zyren pulls back the furs and climbs underneath them. I’m facing away from him, but as he tugs on the furs, I roll toward him and my book flies out of my hands, landing between us.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“A book I took from the library,” I say, my tone daring him to chastise me.

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