A single feather fell from a hidden wing, binding me to the son of a god….
I’m no stranger to death. I risk it every time I use my magic to protect those I love. Wondering if this will be the time that my fire consumes me.
Then I picked up that feather. It’s not of this world. It belonged to one the Ravens of the Underworld. But Branth is far more than that.
They call him the Prince of Ravens. The Prince of the Underworld. As the only known offspring of the god of Death himself and one of the messengers of the Underworld, his existence is as lonely as my own. He dragged me away from the light of the surface, yet I cannot hate him.
Instead, a new fire burns inside me. One that might be far more destructive than magic.
For no mortal can remain in the Underworld forever. Not as flesh and blood…
Prince of the Underworld is the first book in the Prophecy of the Banished Goddess series.
Ebook will be available soon for preorder.
Excerpt:
“Fay. You look troubled.”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” I managed a hasty bow. Though we still had to wear skirts, at least these were not as bulky and were cut in a way that allowed for a greater freedom of movement than others. It was almost like wearing men’s clothing.
Almost, but not quite.
“Fay.”
“Sorry.” I blinked several times, trying to focus on the queen. A single lamp remained lit. Deepening the shadows around the temporary structure.
“I dismissed everyone for tonight after they doused the fires.”
It was as if she had understood what I was about to ask.
Every light in this tent had blazed at full flame as soon as everyone realized that the queen was under attack.
“The assassin killed himself before he could be interrogated, Your Majesty.” I bowed lower. “I’m sorry I failed—
“No, Fay.” She stepped forward and caught me by the hand. Very few people who were aware of my power were willing to risk my touch. Even my sisters avoided it as much as possible since no one knew when or if I would lose control of my magic.
Shortly after we stopped pretending to be Aytac’s lovers, a young courtier asked me to dance at a ball. I’d been so flustered by the attention that I ended up singing his fingers and the sleeves of his shirt.
No one ever asked me to dance again.
But Selene had never feared my flame. She squeezed my hand. “You’re far away from all of us tonight, Fay.”
I blinked. Focused. “Sorry.” I stared down at our linked hands. “It’s this power. Trying to control it…”
“You haven’t had time to train recently, have you?”
I looked away. There was no reason for me to need training. “My sisters control their magic as easily as breathing. But I…”
“It’s to be expected. Even siblings by blood do not share the same traits.” Something quivered in her voice, and I glanced back at her.
This was a sore point for her. The one thing she longed for but would never have.
As annoying as my sisters could be, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be completely alone.
Her eyes shimmered. Turned from gray to a brilliant silver.
Not from tears.
This light came from within and had appeared in her eyes more than once before.
It disappeared with its usual quickness. I sometimes believed that I had only imagined seeing her eyes change.
Tonight, I was no longer certain it only existed in my mind.
Was it a kind of magic? It didn’t seem like something she could control, and her family was void of any magic users as far as anyone knew.
Still…
She drew her hand from mine. “We must be doing the right thing, if they are trying this hard to stop us.”
“No one wants us to learn the truth behind any of this.” There was more to this journey than anyone would know. Selene didn’t believe that magic alone, or the hand of the gods, would have caused the many disasters in her country.
Just because her cousin could not work any spells on his own, that didn’t mean he could not have found someone who did. One who would be willing to sell their skills for silver.
Or something else.
Similar to the bargain that her father had made with my mother.
“Do you think the duke… is sending the assassins?”
“If he is, he likely isn’t the only one.” One corner of her mouth turned upward. The expression reminded me of her father. A sad smile. “I may be one step from losing my family’s throne, but I haven’t forgotten everything my father taught me about the court.”
“I never thought you did.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Everyone else does.”
She moved toward the corner of her tent, and the unusual shrine she brought with her from the palace.
It had belonged to Aytac. Hidden away in a corner of his bedchamber so that no one outside a very select group knew of its existence. Probably because he would have trouble explaining it to anyone.
There was no name of the deity visible. Just a simple statement inscribed in the silver-white stone of the base: “Dedicated to the memory of the forgotten goddess.’
Selene said that Aytac had burned candles before it since he returned from his ‘meeting’ with my mother.
And there was something else I never noticed about it until now.
Threaded at the base of one of the thicker candles, almost as if it had been poured into the wax when it was formed, was a thin silver chain. Hanging from the metal was an oval pendant. Very similar to the one that I wore, which Aytac gave me from his deathbed.
Odd.
When we had examined our ‘gifts from our mother, my sisters and I had noticed that each of our pieces had been made to represent our magic in some way.
But with the lack of magic in their family…
Was it meant to represent the magic of the goddess that was unnamed? But that made no sense. If the deity was truly forgotten, as the inscription implied, then it stood to reason that whatever powers she once possessed would not be remembered. either.
The stone in the center of this pendant was almost pure black. It shone like obsidian, though I had never heard of anyone taking that type of glass and turning it into a gem. Not even a smooth, cabochon-style piece like this one.
Tiny sparkles of light reminded me of the night sky, and a large section of pale, milky white near the edge of the stone looked a lot like the crescent moon.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a strange shadow to the right. It seemed out of place and didn’t follow the direction of the light. A more intense form of darkness than the others. It fluttered along the wall of the tent, falling to the ground and taking on a more solid appearance.
Not a shadow.
A feather.
Like the one I found the night Aytac died. Black as the night.
Or perhaps a better way to describe it would be to say it was as dark as death. As the Underworld, the dank and lifeless realm where the souls of the departed would be trapped for eternity.
Another shadow formed on the tent wall. Darker than it should have been, considering there was almost no moonlight outside and only smaller campfires nearby. Its shape similar to Celandine, but larger.
Much larger.
A Raven.
“I won’t let him take you.” I stormed out. The flapping of wings above me made me think he was fleeing. “Come back here! I want you to fight me.”
A low chuckle behind me sent the strangest shivers through me. Not exactly cold, but a different kind of fire than what I was used to. It seemed to be something that was not my own, yet also a part of me that had never come alive before.
“No mortal can fight death, little firebrand.” The voice was deep and smooth, setting off more of those strange sensations. “But it would amuse me to see you try,”
Something—or someone—grabbed me from behind.
I stared down at the massive hand that all but swallowed my wrist in its grip.
The touch of a Raven will send a mortal to the Underworld in an instant.
I heard those words from one of the ancient legends in my head, as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud.
This didn’t feel like… My head spun, and everything went black. The last thing I heard was Selene’s voice: “Fay! No!”