Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

“We’ll wait till Jac’s up at dawn,” Finn said. “He knows how to get the word out to Muriel. I got a bottle of some good shit out of the Baron’s cellars.” His voice was fading. “And we’ll head over to Davie’s . . .”

I strained to hear more, but they had moved too far away. I’d heard enough, though. They had captured a Hyhborn, and I could think of only one reason why someone would do something so insanely foolish— to harvest the Hyhborn’s parts for use in bone magic. My mouth dried. Good gods, I didn’t know that was happening in Archwood, and wasn’t that a terribly naive thing to think? Of course, the shadow market was everywhere, in every city in every territory, blossoming wherever desperation could be found.

I closed my eyes as the tingling between my shoulder blades turned to tension that settled in the muscles lining my spine. None of this was my problem.

But my stomach curdled as I turned and started walking. The pressure moved, settling on my chest, and in my mind, I could hear that annoying voice of mine whispering I am wrong— that this Hyhborn was my problem. The tension increased, twisting up my stomach even further. And it wasn’t just my problem. It was Archwood’s. The Hyhborn had destroyed entire neighborhoods to ferret out those believed to be involved in bone magic. Cities had been destroyed.

“But it’s not my problem,” I whispered. “It’s not.”

But that undeniable urge to intervene— to help this Hyhborn— was as strong as any impression I’d gotten in my life. Maybe even stronger.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

Spinning around, I hurried back to Iris’s stall, the hem of my cloak snapping around my boots. Going to the manor wasn’t an option. The Baron would be utterly useless at this time of night, and I didn’t want to involve Grady in this in case things went sideways.

Which was a high likelihood.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I grabbed the bridle off the wall. “Sorry, girl, I know it’s late,” I said as she turned her head, nosing my hand. I gave her a scratch behind the ear and then slipped her bridle on, attaching the reins. “We’ll make this as quick as possible.”

Iris shook her head, and I decided that was an agreement when in reality she was likely showing her annoyance at being interrupted.

I didn’t want to waste time with a saddle, but I wasn’t a good enough rider to go bareback. So I took the minutes to saddle her, double-checking I had it secured correctly, just as Claude had shown me. A five-minute delay was better than a broken neck.

Gripping the pommel, I hauled myself up and settled into the saddle. I was likely making a huge mistake as I guided Iris out of her stall, quickly picking up speed, but I couldn’t turn back as I raced across the lawn. Not when every part of my being was driving me forward. It didn’t matter that I had no idea why. Nor did the risks.

I had to save the Hyhborn.



What are you doing?

What in the world are you doing?

That question cycled over and over, or some variation of it, as I rode through the dark, rain-dampened streets of Archwood, making my way to what I hoped was the blacksmith’s, my intuition my only guide. I couldn’t answer it. I might be a worrier, but that hadn’t stopped me from making extraordinarily bad life choices. This had to be one of the most reckless, foolish things I’d ever done in my life, and I’d done some idiotic things. Like not that long ago, when I tried to usher that little garter snake from the flowers instead of doing the reasonable thing and simply leaving it alone. I ended up with a nice bite on my finger instead of a thank-you. Or when I was younger and jumped out the window of a foundling home to see if I could fly. How I hadn’t broken a bone was beyond me. There were many, many other examples.

This went beyond reckless, though. It was insane. Hyhborn were dangerous, and this one could easily turn on me, much like that damn garter snake had. And there was the risk of getting caught by those who had drugged this Hyhborn. No doubt I had been spotted passing through the manor gates by the guards there. The hood on my cloak had been up, but they could recognize Iris. That alone wouldn’t arouse suspicion, but I’d been seen and could possibly be identified. And who knew how many other guards were involved in this? Claude was my protector in a way, but the type of people who would capture a Hyhborn weren’t the kind to fear a baron’s wrath. And if Grady found out? He would surely lose his mind. Or think I’d lost mine— and honestly, I quite possibly could have.

Keeping the hood of my cloak up, I slowed Iris as I passed the darkened storefront of the blacksmith’s. I turned the horse toward the mouth of a narrow alley, and she immediately pranced nervously. Something small with claws and a gross tail scampered across the path, causing me to swallow a shriek.

I freaking hated rats more than I hated spiders.

“Let’s pretend that was a bunny,” I whispered to Iris.

The horse huffed in response as we rode through the alley, splashing water and who knew what. I owed Iris a nice cleaning after this and possibly an apple and a carrot.

Passing stalls full of half-completed metal tools, I spotted the barn Mickie had spoken of. It sat butted up to the woods. There was no sign of life outside, and only the faint glow of either gas-or candlelight leaked between the cracks of the barn doors. I urged Iris past the barn and into the woods, which provided her with some shelter while keeping her hidden. Dismounting, I landed on my feet with a grunt, reins in hand. I tied them to a nearby tree, leaving her enough room to move about.

“Don’t eat everything in sight,” I warned her as I rubbed her nose. “I won’t be gone long.”

Iris immediately started grazing.

Sighing, I turned back to the barn and started forward, telling myself I was so going to regret this.

I didn’t need any special gifts to realize that, but I dashed across the moonlight-drenched patch of packed earth and reached the side of the barn. Pressing against the weathered wood, I rose onto the tips of my toes and peered into the windows. They were too high for me to really see anything but the faint yellow glow, but the only thing I heard was the pounding of my heart.

Neither Mickie nor Finn had mentioned anyone watching over the Hyhborn, so I didn’t think anyone else was inside that barn. I waited a few moments and then prowled around the corner. I made it to the doors, not at all surprised to see that they weren’t locked.

Mickie wasn’t the brightest of men.

Telling myself yet again that this was a huge mistake, I slid my gloved fingers between the doors. I hesitated and then slowly inched them open, wincing as the hinges creaked more loudly than the floor of my quarters did. I tensed, half expecting someone to come barreling toward me.

No one did.

A fine layer of sweat dotted my forehead as I squeezed between the opening and then forced the door closed behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I ran my hands over the doors as I scanned the shadowy two front stalls of the center aisle. I found the latch and threw it, realizing that the dull light was coming from the back.

I proceeded down the aisle, asking myself another valid question. What in the whole wide realm was I going to do with the Hyhborn? If he was unconscious, I doubted I could move him. Probably should’ve thought of that before I embarked on the journey.

I didn’t think I had ever wanted to punch myself more than I did at that moment.

I neared the end of the aisle. My heart was now like a child’s rubber ball, bouncing off my ribs. The lamplight spilled out weakly from a stall to my left. Holding my breath, I reached the edge and looked inside.