Prologue
The Aurora cut across the midnight sky above the forest canopy, painting ribbons of green and violet across the heavens.
Beneath the trees, the forest remained a wall of impenetrable shadow.
A great dragon moved through the trees.
Steam curled from its nostrils, and its heavy wings were tucked tight to its back. Its weight left deep impressions in the snow.
Its gaze swept the tree line, unhindered by the darkness.
A gust of wind blew through the forest.
Carrying a foreign scent.
Invaders.
Its nostrils flared, and its lips curled back in a silent snarl. It waited, a low growl gathering in its chest.
Three figures emerged in the distance, approaching from the far north.
Their red cloaks stood out against the stark whites and blacks of the snowy midnight forest.
Dark Riders.
They had found them.
The dragon crouched lower.
Tensed its muscles.
Bared its teeth.
The wind shifted, and one of the riders raised a hand. The others slowed and turned their heads, looking toward the trees where the creature crouched.
They could not see it through the snow and darkness. But they sensed it.
The dragon’s pupils narrowed to slits.
It had not tasted the blood of a Dark Rider in ages.
Saliva gathered at the back of its throat.
There were more important things than vengeance.
One rider raised a blade. Another’s hand glowed with the seething red light of corrupted magic. A third rider whispered something that turned the heavy snow black beneath him. The corruption spread outward. Where it touched a pine root, the wood blackened, split, and crumbled into ash.
The creature stepped from the trees, jaws opening wide as an inferno funneled outward. The riders spun to avoid the rising flames, but the creature carved a ring of fire around the three, walls of flame closing off every direction.
The dragon turned and bolted deeper into the woods toward the hidden shelter.
***
Nestled in the cradle of the forest was a shelter of stitched hide and ironwood. Inside, a young woman slumped against the wall. Each time her heavy eyelids drifted shut, the shadows in the corners writhed, and she jerked awake again. For days she’d fought sleep. Every gust of wind was a footstep, every snap of a branch a blade being drawn.
A small cradle rested beside her, and from within came the soft, rhythmic breathing of a sleeping infant—the only sound in the world thatdidn’tfill her with dread. She reached down to adjust the blanket around the baby, but her fingers fumbled against the fabric.
A heavy sound thudded outside—distant but growing closer.
Her head snapped up, her heart lurching into a frantic rhythm.
No.
Not yet.
Not now.
Her breath came in short, shallow gasps as she stared at the door. Her hand moved to the dagger at her belt.
The door burst open, and cold surged inside the cabin. A massive shape filled the threshold. But the woman inside let her shoulders drop, and the breathshe’dbeen clenching in her chest came out slow and steady.
A deep, rumbling voice sounded not in the small hovel, but in her mind. They have found us—Dark Riders. We must go. Now! They arenearly uponus.’
“No—no, no, no—” her voice broke into a strangled gasp. Through the doorway, an orange glow pulsed between the trees. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air. Hostile voices echoed through the trees as the Riders fought to escape the fire.
They were coming for her baby.
A gust of wind slammed against the hut. Somewhere in the forest, flames crackled and roared. She pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly, and crossed the room to a chest tucked beneath the window. Her hands trembled so violently she could barely grip the lid. She yanked it open and began cramming their belongings into a worn satchel. She pulled out her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders, her fingers fumbling with the clasp.
‘Seraphina—’
“There’s nowhere left,” she said aloud. She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Nowhere… not the villages, not the forests. They always find us. They’ll take her. Oh gods, what they’ll do to her—”
She couldn’t finish. Couldn’t say aloud what the Dark Riders did to children like hers.
’Then we leave Aerion.’
She froze, her hand clutching the satchel. “We can’t.”
Outside, a tree crashed to the ground. The roar of fire grew louder.
‘We must.’
“The guards at the Rifts—they’llknow. They’ll see what I am—what she is—and they’ll kill me before I even get close!”
The dragon lowered its head until its eyes were leveled with hers.‘Then I will fight them. I will hold them off while you run.’
“No!” Seraphina’s voice cracked. “If you fight them alone, you’ll die! There are too many, and then they’ll catch me anyway, and it will all be for nothing! “You always find another way—”
’There is no other way. My long life ends here, Seraphina. Let it be for you. For the little one. Promise me, she will never fall into Soraxis’s hands.”
Seraphina’s gaze drifted to the cradle, and she crossed the room in three strides and knelt beside it, her hands trembling as she reached inside. The baby stirred as Seraphina lifted her, so small and fragile in her arms. The infant’s eyes fluttered open for a moment—bright, curious—before closing again.
Seraphina hugged her daughter close as grief tore through her, tears tracking paths along her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the baby’s soft hair. “I’m so sorry. I will keep you safe. No matter the cost.”
‘We will only have a few moments once they break through,’ the dragon said.‘Do not waste even a second worrying over what they do to me. Open a gate to the North Rift and do not stop.’
Seraphina swallowed against the lump in her throat as she wrapped the child in the blanket, secured the satchel across her shoulder, and stepped out into the frozen night.
The trees groaned in the wind, and flames crackled in the distance, but for the moment, the coast seemed clear. The Dark Riders were close—she could hear their muffled shouts from behind the wall of fire—but for now, it held. Seraphina stepped into the glen, the cold biting through her cloak and her breath coming in short, shallow pulls. The dragon moved beside her.
In the distance, the fire ring was faltering.
A rider stepped through the smoke.
Then another.
Then a third.
They emerged from the burning forest and spread out along the edge of the glen, weapons drawn. Red magic flickered between their fingers.
With a thunderous roar, the dragon stepped in front of her, spreading his massive wings wide. Fire exploded from his jaws, washing across the snow in a blazing wall between them and the Riders.
The Riders fell back, shielding their eyes.
One raised a hand and hurled crimson magic into the flames. Another shouted an incantation. The wall of fire bucked and twisted as they fought to break through.
Seraphina turned to her dragon, her eyes brimming with tears. She stepped forward and pressed her forehead against his great-scaled head. His breath washed over her in gentle waves.
This was the last time she would feel it.
A sob tore from her throat. Her free hand came up to rest against his jaw, fingers splaying across the ridges and grooves.
She had flown on these scales.
Slept against this warmth.
Grown up in the shadow of this magnificent creature who had chosen her, loved her, protected her.
And now he was going to die for her.
Beyond the wall of fire came shouts. The crack of magic. The distant screams as the Riders forced their way forward.
The dragon stood between her and death as he always had.
“I can’t—” Her voice broke. The wordswouldn’tcome.Her shoulders shuddered as she pressed harder against him, as if she could somehow merge with him, take him with her.
But there was no other way.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
‘Go. Do not look back.’
She tried to pull away, but her hand remained pressed to his scales, her forehead still against his. She wanted to stay. To fight beside him. To die beside him, if that was what it took.
But the baby stirred against her chest. Seraphina looked down and pulled away, clutching her daughter tighter. Then she raised her free hand and moved it in a slow circle.
She could not reach Earth directly.
But she could reach the North Rift.
Light flooded the midnight woods—brilliant, blinding, pouring from her fingertips like liquid silver.
A cry escaped her lips as power surged through her.
Her knees nearly buckled beneath her.
The snow around her exploded outward.
Trees groaned as a violent wind tore through the glen.
The air shimmered and tore, and a gate opened before her.
Beyond it stretched a vast metal platform suspended above a frozen wilderness. Far beyond the platform, curtains of green and violet Aurora danced across the heavens.
The North Rift.
Beyond the platform waited Earth.
Beyond the platform waited exile.
Once she crossed the Rift, there would be no coming home.
She obeyed his last command and did not look back. As she plunged into the shimmering gate, a roar of fury echoed from the world she was leaving. It was followed by the shriek of men and the searing smell of dragonfire.
The rift swallowed her and the child.
She was gone.
