Page 1 of Flame and Sparrow

Prologue

Once,when I was a child, I accidentally set fire to a god.

I recalled the flames now as I stared at my sister’s empty, blood-soaked bed. The way their heat had licked at my body was remarkably similar to the scorch I currently felt creeping over my skin. The way my vision tunneled, unable to focus on anything but the bright and burning spots of red…it was the same. As was the sick twist in my gut telling me I was in trouble.

The difference was that now my sister was not here to get me outof trouble as she had that fiery day—as shealwayshad.

“Karys!”

The sound of my name shocked me into moving, sending me tripping backwards, stumbling out of my sister’s tiny room and into the hallway.

A hand landed on my arm, strong and unyielding. Steadying me. I finally managed to pry my gaze away from Savna’s bloodied bed, and I turned to face the person standing behind me.

Andrel’s bright hazel eyes met mine for a fraction of a moment before they caught on the horror inside the room at my back. His lips parted slightly. His breath caught briefly. The tiniest glimpses of emotion—most would have missed them, but I knew Andrel. I knew when he was rattled, when he was afraid. It didn’t happen often.

There were voices rising outside. A fierce wind swirling stronger, creaking the trees and rattling the thatched roof of the house. The air felt strange, prickling against my skin, leaving an acrid taste in my mouth if I dared to inhale too deeply.

An unspoken understanding passed between Andrel and me.

This place is not safe.

I didn’t know what was happening. What sort of darkness was falling upon my home, or when—if—I’d be able to return to it. So I pulled free of Andrel and took what I could of my sister, sweeping things off her desk into a bag, grabbing items from the trunk by her bed and tossing them in with no real method or reasoning. I didn’t even look at what was inside before cinching the bag shut.

I just knew I couldn’t leave all of her behind.

Hoisting the bag onto my shoulder, I turned and raced down the hallway, through the back door, and past the marks that had been clawed into the frame. My gaze snagged on the deepest of those marks.

A shiver skipped down my spine.

I shook it off and ran faster.

Andrel followed closely behind. We didn’t stop until we were deep within the woods that stretched for miles behind my family’s tiny farm. We approached a steep, rock-strewn hill—too steep for anyone to easily descend on us from above—and settled in with our backs against it, scanning the area before us for threats. The trees were thick here, wrapped in the puffy white flowers and timid green leaves of early spring. The weaving of their branches seemed almost unnatural, as though they had reached out and worked together to tangle up as tightly as possible.

The softest of footfalls snapped our attention back in the direction we’d come from.

Our heightened elven senses confirmed we were being followed, but also helped us relax soon after; we recognized the scent on the air. Earth and a tang of something fruity.

A familiar face appeared in the darkness. Deep-set green eyes, the slightly crooked nose he’d broken as a child, sharp cheekbones framed by waves of pale golden hair—Cillian. He was my sister’s closest friend, and had probably been paying one of his regular late night visits to her, only to stumble on to a scene of…

What?

I still didn’t know, still couldn’t think clearly enough to make sense of what we’d just fled from.

I only hoped, for Cillian’s sake, that he hadn’t gone into the house.

If he had, he said nothing of the blood, or the strange voices, or the odd airs that had swallowed up my home—nothing at all for a very long time, until his breath caught, nearly choking him before he cleared his throat and said, “There were beasts prowling around your house.”

My heart sank like a stone into the pit of my stomach. “Beasts?”

“Divine ones.”

We’d been right to run.

But where were those beasts now?

Cillian choked on another breath. “And Savna…”

Andrel’s expression was grim as he finished the sentence himself. “…Can handle whatever danger we’re dealing with better than most. She might have escaped. She might be hiding somewhere safe and sound; no point in worrying yet.”

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