Three short raps of her numb fist against the wooden door was all it took before it opened, the cloaked figure from the marketplace illuminated by the luminium beacons shining from within, along with a small group of others reclining by the fireplace and peering curiously in her direction.
“This is a surprise,” the cloaked man said, his hood pulled back enough to reveal his weathered features as he took in the woman and her two shivering children.
The woman raised her emerald eyes to his, gripping her son and daughter tighter as she said, “We’re here to join you.”
Those in the room beyond froze like statues, but the man merely angled his head and repeated, “Join us?”
“I know who you are and what you’re after,” she stated baldly. “You won’t succeed without me.”
The man arched an eyebrow as everyone behind him seemed to hold their collective breaths. “And what would you want in return?”
The woman recalled everything she had suffered through that night, still hearing the screams, still seeing the blood, and whispered one word: “Vengeance.”
A slow smile stretched across the man’s face before he sank into a deep bow. “Then please come in, Tilda Corentine,” he said, as those in the room stood and bowed in turn. “Your rebels have long been waiting for you.”
Swallowing back her doubt, the woman and what remained of her family stepped over the threshold. No longer would she be called Tilda Meridan, no longer would she or her children deny their bloodline.
The blood of traitors.
And the blood of queens.
Tilda planned to be both — to betray a lifetime of convictions to claim what was rightfully hers.
Nothing would change what had happened that night. But Tilda Corentine would be damned if she didn’t spend the rest of her life making those who were responsible pay.
One way or another, no matter what it cost, she would have her revenge.
TEN YEARS LATER
CHAPTER ONE
The man was dead.
Kiva Meridan — known to a select few as Kiva Corentine — stared down at the body, noting his sunken cheeks and ashen skin. Given his state of bloating, he’d likely passed into the everworld three or four days ago. Long enough for the scent of death to emanate from him, even if he was yet to show physical signs of decomposition.
“Middle-aged male, average height and build, pulled out of the Serin River early this morning,” Healer Maddis said, her crisp voice enunciating every word perfectly. “Who can speculate as to the cause of death?”
Kiva kept her mouth shut, fully aware that she’d been granted entrance into the sterile examination room as an observer only.
“No one?” Healer Maddis prompted her students, all of whom were crowded around the body resting on a metal slab in the center of the small space. “Novice Waldon?”
A young man wearing large spectacles blinked owlishly and answered, “Uh, he drowned?”
“Marvelous deductive reasoning,” Maddis said dryly, before turning to the student beside him. “Novice Quinn?”
The young woman hunched in on herself, her voice barely a whisper as she said, “Maybe a heart attack? Or — Or a stroke?”
Healer Maddis tapped a fingernail against her lips. “Perhaps. Anyone else?”
Kiva shifted on her feet, catching the healer’s attention.
“What about our visitor?” Maddis asked, drawing all eyes to Kiva. “Miss Meridan, isn’t it?”
Seeing the open, inviting challenge in the elderly healer’s gaze, Kiva shook off her trepidation and stepped closer to the corpse, picking up his limp hand to reveal the smudges beneath his nails.
“This discoloration indicates he was suffering from an immune disorder, most likely syphinus or cretamot,” Kiva said, having diagnosed similar cases in the past. “If left untreated, both can lead to the rapid swelling of blood vessels.” She glanced toward the two novices who had been called upon. “Waldon and Quinn are both right — he most likely had a heart attack or a stroke, caused by his underlying medical condition, then fell into the river to drown.” She released the man’s hand. “But only a full examination will be able to say for sure.”
An approving smile stretched across the Matron Healer’s dark, wrinkled face. “Well spotted.” She then launched into a lecture about common immune disorders, but Kiva was only half listening, still marveling over where she stood.
Silverthorn Academy — the most renowned healing academy in all of Evalon. Some would argue in all of Wenderall.