Page 1 of Forged in Flame and Shadow

Chapter 1

Morgana

“Hurry. I don’t know how long we have.” My whispers sound too loud in the hushed air of the camp. I help Tira shove the items she’s carefully gathered over the last few days into her pack—food, a few Filusian coins, anything that will help us get back to the border and home to Trova.

First, however, we have to get away from the seven highly trained fae sleeping around us.

They unbound us after we crossed over into Filusia. I can only suppose once they didn’t need to worry about either of us trying to attract a border patrol, they were less nervous about letting us off the leash. The same went for my magic. It returned to me two days after we crossed. As Etusca’s potion wore off, the familiar heat burned through my veins, begging to be released.

The fae didn’t make me take any more potion. Leon claimed it was a friendly gesture to encourage peaceful cooperation as we traveled through fae country. I think in truth none of his friends could stomach it—the idea of holding me down and forcing itdown my throat—when just days ago we ate together, slept in the same cabin, played cards, and exchanged jokes.

Leon might be a heartless monster, but at least his unit have some shame.

I did what I had to.

I can still hear Leon saying it—and every time those words come back to me, I feel the same rage, the same stab of betrayal I did in that moment. But I can’t let my anger distract me now. This moment is too crucial.

I secure my own pack to my back, then Tira and I rise, silent as ghosts. That is, until I have to stop her nearly tripping over a thick tree root.

“Watch out,” I hiss, pointing it out. Tira pauses and throws me a grateful glance before we tiptoe cautiously around the tree. Thankfully, the mossy earth muffles our steps. Filusia’s foliage is thicker, lusher, more colorful than Trova’s, but all I care about is that it swallows the sound of our movements as we reach the edge of the camp.

“Where is he?” I murmur, and Tira points to a figure lying on the ground.

Since my magic returned, they’ve been watching me more closely than Tira. They see me as more of a threat. Seven military-trained fae against one solari might be good odds for them, but I could still do some damage before they managed to stop me.

As they kept an eye on me, Tira has been able to linger in places unnoticed. Such as by the horses, slipping items out of the saddlebags we’ll need for our journey.

Or slipping somethingintothem.

At the edge of the camp, we reach the figure of Stratton slumped over beside a tree trunk.

“You used the plant?” I whisper to Tira. That was the plan, but I want to be sure.

“Yes. You think it worked well enough?” she murmurs back.

“Seems so. Leon only ever gave me a few leaves. The amount I gave you should hopefully knock him out for hours. Maybe they won’t notice we’re gone until morning.”

We’re lucky the plant Leon used to put me to sleep before he trained me grows here too. It wasn’t so hard for me keep an eye out, grab a sprig of it, and pass it to Tira. They usually let us eat in peace alone, at the edge of the group. Even Etusca has given up trying to speak to me after I’ve blankly ignored her for four days.

Now we watch as Stratton’s chest rises in even motion, his eyes moving slightly beneath his closed lids. Beside him is an open wine flask.

After they drugged me in my sleep, I refuse to eat or drink anything the fae give me before Tira checks it first. But the fae haven’t been so cautious with their own food.

Though we’re traveling through Filusia, we’ve still been camping outside, avoiding big towns for some reason no one has bothered to share with me. Not being wanted criminals, like we were in Trova,doesmean the supplies have suddenly gotten much better, including proper meals and plenty of wine.

It’s been a tense evening of watching Stratton, wondering if he’d notice something was off every time he took a swig of the winefrom his saddlebag. But the fae wine is full-bodied and aromatic, and Stratton seemed totally unaware of any foul play as he settled down to play guard. Now we carefully navigate around him, toward the collection of horses happily resting among the trees.

“Here, take its reins,” Tira murmurs to me. It’s a risk to steal a horse, given neither of us is particularly adept with them. But the fae will discover we’re gone eventually, and we don’t stand a chance of outrunning them on foot.

I look nervously back toward the camp. No movement, only shadowy figures lying wrapped up on bedrolls, dreaming the night away. The horse we choose is Phaia’s, a good-natured, peaceful animal. I thank the gods when it only huffs lightly as we coax it awake.

“There, good girl,” I whisper, patting it on the nose.

“If only I could say the same for you.”

Tira and I freeze, and as we lock eyes, my heart sinks. Slowly, I turn to see Leon standing ahead of us. Even in the moonlight, I can see the hard set of his face, like someone preparing for an unpleasant chore.

“It wasn’t very nice of you to go and drug Stratton like that,” he says, folding his arms across his chest.

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