Stormcrown Sample Chapter

Be Smart. Be Patient. Learn.

Aslyn and Blackblade had been walking for hours. Aslyn tried to discern their location by seeking out the sun, but the sky was so gloomy she couldn’t tell which direction they were headed. The only indication of their general location was the jagged peaks of the Umbr Mountains clawing at the horizon. Their presence weighed heavily on Aslyn’s shoulders, as if she could feel Valen’s eyes on her from within those mountains.

Before the two of them stretched a land washed in autumn’s breath. Rolling fields of grass were brown and brittle. Trees changed colors slowly, shedding some of their leaves into the breeze. The air itself was sharp and dry, promising colder nights ahead. Every few steps, some part of the earth crunched like old bone beneath her boots.

Freedom should have felt nearer with every mile, yet it did not. Not while he was still at her back.

Blackblade moved in silence, his presence heavy as iron shackles. Aslyn could feel him there—sometimes too close, sometimes a few strides behind—always watching, always wordless. The silence between them was thick enough to choke on, and the faint stir of his shadows at the edge of her vision set her teeth on edge. The weight of him had become unbearable. He was both shield and threat, savior and captor, and she no longer cared which role he chose to play.

The land itself seemed to agree with her resolve. Autumn hollowed the world of life, stripping it down to bone and wind, leaving only what was strong enough to endure. She would be the same.

Aslyn didn’t forget that Blackblade still carried the Jewel of Arithia. Her birthright. Her symbol of power. At this point, it was all she had left. She couldn’t return to Arithia without it if she wanted to reclaim her throne from Dorin.

Aslyn glanced over her shoulder, surprised to find Blackblade returning from a small grouping of trees. What was he doing? Her gaze slid past him to the trees, curious.

“Problem, Your Majesty?” Blackblade asked in a tone she didn’t appreciate.

Aslyn’s gaze snapped back to him and she noticed the rope he held in one hand. It slung over his shoulder.

“Dinner,” he replied, reading her expression. “I can skin it and cook it when we make camp.”

As much as she wanted to ask him where they were and how far the nearest town was, Aslyn clamped her lips so tight it creased her cheeks. She carried on in silence.

Where did he keep the Jewel of Arithia anyway? It had to be on him somewhere.

For another hour she mulled this over, along with how, exactly, she might be able to rob a shadow assassin of his prize. Driving her sword through his heart seemed like a good place to start, but as much as she loathed him at the moment, he had saved her. Twice. Killing him seemed like a poor way to show gratitude.

By the time they made camp for the night in another patch of trees, Aslyn had no viable solutions.

As he prepared the fire and cooked the rabbit he killed earlier, Aslyn settled across the small fire from him, using her cloak as a blanket beneath her. “I’ve been trying all day to figure out where we are. Do you have any idea?”

“Are we talking now?” he asked, sharpening a set of knives as the rabbits cooked.

Aslyn rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Just answer the question.” She shrugged, rubbing her hands together near the fire to warm them. “I just want to know how far from home I am.”

“Not far enough.”

Those three words struck Aslyn in the chest. He clearly didn’t think that was where she should go.

He turned the rabbit slowly to even out the roasting, not meeting her gaze as he said, “We’re somewhere along the border of Umber and Novavito. We should reach a small town in a day or two.”

Her own kingdom! Aslyn nearly released a breath of relief. If she could get to one of those villages and tell them who she was, she might be able to start gathering supporters on her way home. No doubt the journey would take a long time on foot. Maybe she could convince someone to give her a horse. She could pay when she was back at the palace.

Aslyn missed the smell of jasmine and roses that permeated her palace home. She missed the hot baths and delicious food. Still, meager as rabbit was, after so long without meat, the smell had her salivating.

“You have impressive survival skills,” she commented, nodding at the roasting rabbit.

Blackblade snorted, but didn’t respond. What was his problem, anyway?

“Maybe you can show me how you caught that rabbit so easily tomorrow.”

“Are we friends now, Your Majesty?” he asked flatly. Blackblade examined the rabbit, then returned it to roasting over the fire.

“I just think, all things considered, it might be a useful skill to—”

“I snapped its neck with my shadows before it even knew I approached,” Blackblade interrupted. “Do you have the same skills?”

Aslyn bristled at his tone, tempted to fan ash and embers into his stupid face. “No need to be an asshole. My request was perfectly reasonable.”

Silence settled thick between them. Her gaze slid over him, searching for hidden pockets where the Jewel might be hidden. He wouldn’t wear it around his neck. That would be too obvious a place to search. It had to be stashed away somewhere else.

When the rabbit finished, Blackblade started slicing it into strips with a knife he had just sharpened. His hands worked with expert precision, as if he wanted to remind her that his skills went beyond his shadow magic. She straightened her back and didn’t allow him to think she found him threatening. Because she didn’t. Not at all.

Blackblade chewed on a strip of rabbit, then sliced another and ate that as well, making a show of enjoying the meat one savory strip at a time. He ate it right off his knife like a savage. As this continued, Aslyn became certain he was flexing what he thought was his superiority over her. He had something she not only wanted, but needed, and he knew it. He wanted her to beg. She would starve before she begged him for anything, even if the smell of the rabbit had her mouth watering and her stomach grumbling loud enough to betray her.

“Savage,” Aslyn muttered, curling her lip in disgust at the way he ate, licking the juice from his fingers, eyes shining with obvious pleasure. Oh, he was toying with her, for sure.

“I’ve been called worse.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Aslyn shifted her cloak so she could lie down, wrapping it around her to ward off the autumn chill. She closed her eyes and didn’t say another word.

“You’re too proud to even ask, aren’t you?” Blackblade asked, laughing in disbelief.

“You’re too boorish to show any chivalry, aren’t you?” Aslyn retorted. “If you want to eat like a savage, be my guest. I’m going to sleep.”

Blackblade muttered something under his breath. Aslyn couldn’t hear the words, but no doubt they were barbaric and uncouth. “You need to eat something, princess. We have a long walk ahead of us and you need to keep up your strength. I won’t carry your sorry ass when you collapse from hunger.”

“Are you calling me weak?” she snarled, anger simmering in her voice. It wasn’t what he meant and she knew it, but something about his tone got under her skin.

“Seven fucking gods returned,” Blackblade growled. “Your stubbornness will get you killed.”

Aslyn lay still, her eyes closed, breath measured, and every muscle strung tight.

“Probably by my fucking hand,” he mumbled under his breath.

Aslyn gritted her teeth and focused on remaining calm. He wanted a response from her. Well he wouldn’t get it.

Across the glow of their small fire, Blackblade remained a silent silhouette, shadows curling faintly at his feet like restless hounds. His eyes glinted faintly like steel in the dark. Her own body grew heavy, and despite her struggle against it, sleep stole her.

When she woke, morning had come, yet no sunlight broke through the sky. A heavy pall of gray hung over the land, as if the heavens themselves had been smothered.

Blackblade was already on his feet, cloak drawn tight, shadows coiling faintly at his heels. The fire was smothered and covered to leave no trace of their camp. He had not slept. Or if he had, she never noticed. But his eyes were as sharp as ever.

“Time to move,” Blackblade announced, clearly aware that she was awake. “If we’re lucky, we will reach the nearest town in two days. Once we have supplies, we can plan our next move.”

Our next move, Aslyn thought. Were they partners now, allies?

In less than a minute, they were walking again. All of this walking made her feet hurt, despite the nice boots she wore. Not that she would ever complain about it to him. He would likely make fun of her or use it as further proof that she wasn’t as strong as she thought.

“How far are we from Barden?” she asked shortly into their journey. Barden was the next largest city in Novavito after Arithia. While the population was only half of her capital city, that offered her more than enough opportunity to gather the support of local lords and the Barden city guards.

Blackblade walked a few steps ahead of her, his pace punishing to her sore feet. “We aren’t going to Barden.”

“Yes, I am,” Aslyn argued. “Follow me or don’t. Take me there and leave me in the hands of the city guard for all I care. Once they see me, they will—”

“They will report you straight to your brother,” Blackblade snapped, rounding on her. “Pull your head out of your ass. Dorin controls the guards everywhere in your kingdom. He controls the army. He controls the nobles. The right promise, and they will turn you over to him without a second thought.”

Aslyn marched right up to him, tipping her head to glare at him as they stood toe-to-toe. “I lost my parents. I lost my fiancé. I will not lose my throne.”

“You already did,” he growled.

Aslyn swung her palm at his arrogant face, but shadows snatched her wrists and pinned them behind her back. Their bodies nearly pressed together as he leaned over her. For several breaths, neither of them moved, daring the other to speak first, to act first, until he finally released Aslyn and stepped back, continuing his march. Did he think he had won that argument?

Not caring if she was headed the right way, as long as it wasn’t his way, Aslyn pivoted and strode in a different direction. Not back where they came from, obviously, but she angled away from his trajectory.

After ten feet, shadows coiled swiftly around her body. Aslyn struggled to break free, fingers brushing the handle of her elfin sword. She cut his shadows in Stormvalor. She could do it again, if only the blade could come free.

Blackblade stepped around her, raising a brow at her struggles. She hated the smug look on his face. She wanted to carve it off.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“This is cheating,” Aslyn snapped. “If you want to stop me, use your own hands, not your magic.”

“Where. Are. You. Going?” Blackblade repeated through his teeth, but the shadows fell away.

Aslyn stumbled into him. He caught her before she could fall, and she violently shrugged off his touch. “I already told you! I’m going home. My brother needs dealt with.”

He sighed in irritation, crossing his arms over that broad chest of his. “You can’t go home, Aslyn.”

Aslyn leaned closer, hand resting on her sword. “Try and stop me.” Then she pushed past him and marched onward.

Blackblade moved faster than she could track. One second he was behind her, the next he stood in front of her, holding out his hands to stop her. Aslyn reacted on instinct from years of training. The blade of her sword pressed to his throat, drawing a bead of blood. He didn’t even flinch.

“Tell me,” Blackblade said, and she didn’t like his tone at all. “What’s your big plan? Storm into the palace expecting all the nobles to rally to you and your brother to fall to his knees and beg your mercy?”

Aslyn blinked at the image his words conjured, knowing it wouldn’t be that easy. She hesitated but didn’t withdraw the blade.

“Dorin has the support of the emperor, princess,” Blackblade continued, and she wanted to wash those words from his mouth. Mostly because she knew them to be true and it broke her heart. “If you march into Arithia, you will end up right back in that palace with no chance of freedom again.”

Tears of frustration burned in the back of her eyes. Aslyn swallowed, fighting them off. He would vanish in a puff of shadows if she started crying now. Isn’t that what I want?

“I can’t stand by and let him get away with this,” Aslyn said hoarsely, barely able to get the words past the swelling in her throat. She loved her brother, trusted him. How could he do this to their family?

He leaned into the blade, forcing her to pull back or cut his skin. “Then be smart about it.” The determination in his words made her grip on the sword falter. “What did I tell you when we met?”

“Lies,” Aslyn growled through her teeth.

Blackblade shook his head and pushed his palm against her wrist, easing the sword away from his neck. “Not nearly as many as you think. I told you that information is power. If you want to do this, be smart. Be patient. Learn.”

Anger and grief and sorrow burned in Aslyn’s heart as his words slowly sank in. For a moment they stood frozen in time, only their breaths showing any signs of life.

“I can’t trust you,” Aslyn said plainly, breaking the silence. He flinched that time, his face twisting in pain that her sword couldn’t inflict. Good. Let him feel pain. He deserves it. “Every word from your mouth since we met was a lie. I don’t even know who you are.”

“Yes, you do,” he said, retreating a step.

“No. I don’t know your name. I know Blackblade, the infamous shadow assassin. Are you telling me that’s all you are?”

He froze as if confused by the question, or maybe unsure how to answer it. Aslyn scowled and sheathed the sword on her hip again, stepping around him. He didn’t follow. Blackblade remained rooted in place.

Aslyn eyed the horizon, her heart breaking all over again because, as much as she hated him, right now Blackblade was the only companion she had.

“It’s Bast,” he called after her.

Her steps slowed and she turned back to him, scrutinizing his face for traces of a lie. Not that she would be able to tell. He was so damned good at it.

Blackblade remained standing where he had been, shoulders tense, waiting for her to react, to say something.

“That’s not a name,” Aslyn finally replied.

Hurt flashed in his eyes. “I assure you it is. I swear it on my life.”

“Is your life worth so little?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but the hurt in those usually steely eyes, the vulnerability, convinced her that this, at least, was true. “Is it short for something?”

“My stepfather called me bastard, if that helps.” His jaw twitched as he spoke the words.

Aslyn cocked her head. “And your father, your mother?”

Blackblade stiffened, averting his gaze. He swallowed, shaking his head.

“What happened to them?” she asked, taking half a step toward him.

Blackblade didn’t move, staring at his boots. When he broke free of his trance, he turned abruptly and started walking. “That’s enough for now.”

Aslyn hesitated, her stomach twisting in knots. Would he really tell her nothing more? Was he really walking away from her?

“Where are you going?” she called after him.

“The nearest village is this way,” he replied. “You’re headed due east. I imagine you will encounter the Great River or your subjects sooner or later if you want to venture off on your own.”

Aslyn blinked, staring at his back as he walked away. That was it, then? She eyed the direction she had been headed. Going east would lead her to the river eventually, and she could likely find a boat to take her to Arithia from there.

But Blackblade’s words clawed at her mind. Be smart. Be patient. Gather intel.

He was the best spy she knew—and the only one currently available. And he still had the Jewel of Arithia.

Aslyn gazed east one more time, then followed Blackblade—Bast—in the opposite direction.