Chapter One

Harrow hurried down the narrow path between colorful caravans. Lifting a hand to her chest, she curled her fingers into the fabric of her warm cloak, feeling her heart race beneath her grip. She forced herself to maintain a walking pace when what she really wanted to do was run.

Across the fairgrounds, friendly chatter brightened the morning. The laborers were already busy setting up the big top, pounding pegs into the earth with heavy mallets. Encircling the bustling grounds and the surrounding town of Beirstad, snow-capped mountains framed the clear sky. Though the air was cool, the sun’s rays brought a welcome warmth.

Harrow stayed huddled in her cloak, however. Inside, her blood ran cold.

In just a few days, the setup would be complete, and the extravagance of Salizar’s Incredible Elemental Circus would come fully alive. The enchanted lights would glow in the big top and down the rows of caravans and tents where mysterious, hidden side attractions awaited—Harrow’s fortune-telling booth included. The humans would come in droves to gape and indulge, and Salizar would ensure he wrung them dry of every coin they could spare.

As soon as Harrow saw her destination ahead, she quickened her pace.

Outside a red and blue caravan, a woman with midnight skin and long braids reclined in a chair in the sun, a peaceful smile on her face. She heard Harrow’s approach before she had a chance to announce herself, and her amber eyes popped open.

“Morning, Harrow!” she called, stretching her arms wide. They were toned with muscle from years of training. “The Amazing Malaikah” had worked harder than anyone to earn her place as the star acrobat of their show. “How nice is this sunshine? I was beginning to think it was always cold in the North, but—” She broke off and her smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

Harrow and Malaikah had been close friends for decades, and she wasn’t surprised Malaikah had sensed something was amiss with a single glance.

“I woke up with this terrible feeling, Mal,” Harrow said without preamble, “and I think there might be trouble coming. But when I did my scrying ritual, I didn’t see any—”

Malaikah stood suddenly, glancing around to check they were alone. “Why don’t we go inside to talk?”

If Harrow had been thinking clearer, she would have done the same before speaking. She knew she shouldn’t talk openly about her gifts where there was a risk of being overheard. She couldn’t afford to let anything slip about her true nature.

With a gentle hand, Mal led her toward the narrow door of her caravan. Inside, there was a bed at the far end with curtains, a tiny wood stove and counter, and a wardrobe stuffed full of sparkling costumes. They took a seat at the small table opposite the stove.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Mal said when they were settled, her tail flicking with subtle tension. Malaikah was a black panther Hybrid, one of the species variants of the Earth Queen’s Elementals. Like all Hybrids, she displayed certain features of her animal in appearance and ability—for Mal, a sinewy tail, catlike ears, and sharp canines.

Harrow twisted her hands on the table in front of her. “Since waking this morning, I’ve had this feeling that something is coming, but I can’t decipher it beyond a general sense of dread. I feel like there’s someone who needs my help, and if they don’t get it, something terrible will happen. But I don’t know who it is or how to find them.”

Malaikah frowned. “Is it the Water telling you this?”

“It’s always the Water.” The Water was the elemental source of all her visions and premonitions. She was the conduit through which the powerful force spoke its wisdom.

“I did my morning scrying ritual,” Harrow continued, “but it didn’t give me any answers. All I saw when I looked into the bowl of water was an image of flames, and then perhaps some kind of shadow streaking across a full moon? Which makes no sense to me.”

“Hm.” Mal slumped in her seat. “The moon thing doesn’t mean anything to me either, but thanks to Queen Furie, I think we all have a healthy fear of anything fire related.”

“I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s something I’m supposed to be doing. Maybe I need to go search for someone. But where?” Harrow dragged her hands over her mane of curly hair in frustration. “Or maybe I’m misinterpreting it, and this is a warning that the circus is in danger. I just don’t know.”

“If you think there’s potential danger, we should take it seriously. Maybe you could tell Salizar?”

“Why would he believe me?” She traced the edge of the folded headband she wore every day to hide her pointed ears. “He thinks I’m human. He’ll want to know why I think there’s a threat, and he has no cause to trust my instincts. If I try to convince him, it’ll only give him more reason to suspect what I am.”

“I keep telling you, I think Salizar already knows. Why else would he have taken you in?”

“Because I was a ten-year-old orphan who’d witnessed a massacre. Human or Elemental, I was still a child. He helped Loren, too, didn’t he?”

Harrow didn’t want Salizar to know who she was. There wasn’t much that got past him, but being in control of her secret was important to her. And she certainly didn’t want people prying into what she remembered of that night, especially since it was nothing at all.

Well, mostly nothing. Blood on her hands. A warm body growing cold beside her. But this wasn’t the time to dredge up that old pain.

“It doesn’t matter right now anyway,” she said, waving a hand. “Something bad is coming, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Malaikah stood decisively, her posture tense. Among her other tumultuous emotions, Harrow felt a twinge of regret for getting her friend worked up only a few days before opening night. “If there’s really danger, we have to warn people,” Mal said. “Why don’t I go talk to Salizar for you? I’ll just tell him I have reason to believe there’s—”

She broke off suddenly and stiffened. Twisting toward the open window over the bed, she tilted her head, her ears twitching.

“What is it?” Harrow whispered. As a Hybrid, Malaikah’s hearing was far better than hers, but Harrow had a terrible suspicion she already knew what Mal was going to say.

“I think it might be too late for warnings. There’s some kind of commotion at the front gate. I hear shouting.”

Harrow jumped up, dread coursing through her. “Let’s go!”

Both women hurried outside. In the open air, Harrow could hear distant, angry voices, and they ran toward the source of the noise. She hiked up her skirts and tried to match Malaikah’s rapid pace, but there was no keeping up with a panther Hybrid running at full speed.

Closer to the entrance, there were storage wagons, rolled up tents, and building supplies laid out to be set up. Beside the tall gates, the ticket booth was half built, its colorfully painted walls erected but the roof still missing. As Harrow passed the last wagon and finally caught up with Mal, she skidded to a halt. They faced the tall arch over the wrought-iron gates to the fairgrounds.

And the mob of angry humans that had gathered outside them.

About fifty people strong, the crowd seemed to be made up of average citizens of the town, not dressed in wealthy finery nor clad in the rags of the destitute. The men and women carried torches and weapons, and metallic clanging rang out as they struck them against the bars.

The padlock and chain wrapped between the gates suddenly seemed a pitiful defense. Especially because a large man in the front hacked at the length with a heavy axe.

“Elemental filth!” someone hollered as they noticed Harrow and Malaikah. In the bright morning sunshine, the enraged display felt decidedly incongruous. “Servants of the bitch Queens! Your kind aren’t welcome here!”

Harrow had no doubt they would break through if left to their own devices. The fury on their faces made clear their determination to inflict violence upon the Queen’s forsaken chosen ones.

Their hatred was as misguided as it was ignorant. Humans and Elementals alike had paid the price for the Queens’ endless feuding. Harrow knew better than anyone how high the cost of war could be.

“Go back where you came from!” another cried, and the clanging against the bars amplified in emphasis.

“Where do you want us to go?” Malaikah shouted back, ever the fearless one. She bared her sharp white canines. “We came from here the same as you did!”

To Harrow, she added, “I mean, really. Servants of the Queens? What kind of logic is that? In case these fools hadn’t noticed, the Queens don’t give a fuck about us anymore.”

Following an intuition, Harrow grabbed Mal’s hand and pulled her back behind the wagon for cover. “These people have no logic, Mal. Don’t try to reason with them. It’ll only enrage them.”

“Oh, I think they’re enraged enough already.”

As if to punctuate her point, a volley of stones launched over the gates, accompanied by more verbal abuse. All the while, the clanging of the axe striking the chain continued.

“Damn it.” Malaikah looked around the wagon and pointed. “Look. Oli is stuck in the ticket booth.”

Harrow leaned over and followed her finger. It took her a moment to see the fox Hybrid hiding in the corner inside the half-finished structure, but a glimmer of his bright red hair was just visible through the window.

“What in the Goddess’s name is he doing there?” Mal hissed. “Why doesn’t he run?”

The booth was against the fence and within striking distance of the humans if they reached through the bars. But it was inside the grounds, and the open doorway faced away from the mob, which meant Oli could escape if he moved quickly.

“They’re throwing stones.” Harrow ducked as one came flying over the wagon. She certainly wouldn’t be keen to run out of a safe hiding spot directly into the firing line of an enraged mob.

“He’s a fox,” Mal said. “He’s faster than all of them combined.”

“Maybe he’s too scared to run.” Hybrids were the physically strongest of all Elementals, but Oli wasn’t a fighter, and it seemed likely he’d simply frozen in fear.

“Oli’s in there!” someone called out, and Harrow glanced back. Behind another wagon, several of the circus laborers had gathered to watch the spectacle.

“Oli, run!” another called out.

“Shut up!” Mal hissed at them, but unfortunately, her warning came too late. Some of the humans heard and caught on to the location of their trapped comrade. Weapons were thrust through the bars, battering the sides of the booth. Others threw more stones. Oli paled and flattened himself against the wall as if trying to disappear.

As Harrow watched, the Water suddenly rose inside her, turbulent and insistent.

“Mal,” she bit out, fighting the sudden onslaught of her magic as it surged in response to the threat. “We have to get Oli out of there now.” She closed her eyes and took a breath, willing the Water to subside. Oli needed help, but she couldn’t afford to unleash her defenses, not here in the middle of the circus in front of a horde of humans.

Gaining a sliver of control, she opened her eyes again, preparing to run into the melee. She may not have been able to use her abilities, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to help.

Then she noticed the empty space beside her where Mal had been.

She looked up just in time to see a shadow streaking toward the gate. A second later, Malaikah appeared inside the booth.

Harrow leaned around the wagon to get a better view, fingers clenching on the wooden side. She watched with bated breath as Mal spoke to Oli, reassuring him, while simultaneously slashing her claws at any weapons that strayed near.

The Water surged again, and this time Harrow obeyed it. “Run, Mal!” she shouted.

Malaikah glanced back through the window.

“Run, now!”

Malaikah seized Oli’s hand and finally, they started moving. At the same moment, someone threw a torch.

It sailed through the air and went through the open roof of the structure. They’d barely made it through the door when it hit, spilling fuel and fire across the floor. Immediately, the old, dry wood went up in flames. By the time Oli and Malaikah reached Harrow’s hiding spot, the entire booth was engulfed.

They dropped to the ground, their backs against the wagon wheels. “That was way too close,” Malaikah breathed, but she looked exhilarated, her amber eyes alight with the thrill of battle. Poor Oli looked shell-shocked.

And then Salizar arrived.

“Thank the sweet mother Goddess,” Oli whispered, pressing his palms to his cheeks.

Their intimidating ringmaster cut an impressive silhouette as he strode toward the gates. Tall and foreboding, he held his enchanted staff aloft, his long coat billowing behind him. As his rapid strides carried him toward the mob, the irate humans appeared to lose some of their bluster.

It seemed Salizar’s reputation preceded him, but that wasn’t a surprise. He was nearly as infamous as his circus was.

When he reached the gates, he didn’t bother combatting anyone directly. Instead, he raised the staff and pointed it toward the iron bars.

Bolts of silver lightning traveled from the tip of the weapon across the metal, down the crossbeams connecting the bars and shooting all the way to the top. The current struck anyone touching them, and cries rang out as the crowd lurched back.

As a final warning, Salizar struck again, but this time he targeted the man with the axe who’d been trying to break the chain. Lightning coursed over his body, and the human dropped like a stone. He didn’t even have time to scream.

Message received, the crowd began to retreat. Their weapons lowered, and their raucous slurs faded until the only sound was the crackle of burning wood. Salizar stepped back, and there was a tense pause, the ringmaster challenging anyone to come closer, and the humans debating whether to attack again.

In the end, of course, they relented, backing down the road, once again hollering threats and insults to appease their wounded pride. The unconscious man with the axe had to be carried away with the group, his arms and legs suspended while his torso hung like a sack of grain.

Salizar turned his back on the humans and approached the gathered members of his circus.

“That was awesome, sir,” Oli whispered, still slumped against the wagon wheel and looking utterly exhausted.

The ringmaster glanced over at him and Malaikah. “Are you all right?”

“We’re fine,” Mal said, grinning. She was back on her feet, looking as though she was half considering chasing after their fleeing aggressors. “Especially after watching those humans scatter like frightened chickens.”

Salizar addressed the others. “Go start packing up. We’re leaving. Spread the word to everyone else.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, and their victorious smiles faded.

“But, sir,” Oli said, “we just got here.”

“And now we’re leaving,” Salizar replied. “I refuse to perform in a town that couldn’t bother to ensure we had a safe reception after they invited us, and I won’t risk any of those humans getting past the gates and posing a threat during a show. So go pack up. We leave for Allegra first thing tomorrow.”

With that pronouncement, he departed down the center lane, the ticket booth still flaming behind him. Groans and murmurs of disbelief followed in his wake, but no one protested his decision.

Harrow almost couldn’t believe they were about to turn around and go after traveling weeks to get here, but she also knew that Salizar took the protection of the circus seriously. She hated the thought of Malaikah being in danger from the audience while she was performing. What if someone threw something at her while she balanced on the trapeze? A fall from that height could mean serious injury or even death.

Soon the others dispersed to fulfill their orders, undoing the work they’d just begun, while a couple people stayed to put out the ticket booth’s fire. Malaikah offered to walk Harrow back to her caravan, and she was glad for the company, still feeling unsettled.

“It’s uncanny how you do that,” Mal said as they walked, careful to keep her voice low. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. You said you saw fire in your vision, and you told me you felt there was someone who needed your help. Well, that was obviously Oli. If we hadn’t showed up when we did, I shudder to think what could’ve happened.”

They stopped outside Harrow’s caravan. She forced a smile. “It was lucky, that’s for sure.”

“It wasn’t luck, and you know it,” Mal said, nudging her gently.

Harrow knew. But for some reason, she didn’t share Malaikah’s sense of relief.

They bid each other farewell, promising to meet for the next meal, and then Harrow ducked through the fabric entrance to her fortune-telling booth. An awning extended out from the back end of her caravan over the narrow door, and she hung brightly patterned fabrics from the edges to serve as walls.

The rest of the booth had yet to be set up, however. At least she wouldn’t have to put anything else away. She crossed the empty space and went straight into the caravan, closing the door and leaning against it.

Closing her eyes, she took a breath and then finally released the power she’d been holding back.

An invisible forcefield pulsed outward, rattling the objects in her tiny home, condensation forming on the walls and windows. Here, in secret, she could give in to the Water. Not out there. Not in front of everyone.

When the wave passed, she opened her eyes and looked around. Last night’s lantern sat atop the table. The sight of the blackened, dead wick sent another strange chill through her.

Malaikah was right, she told herself. The fire in the ticket booth coincided with the fire she’d seen while scrying. And the strange shadow… Well, Mal moving with panther quickness was undeniably shadow-like.

But the shadow was fluid in your vision, her mind whispered. It wasn’t a solid shape.

She shook her head, refusing to listen to doubt. Oli had needed their help. If they hadn’t been there, he could have been seriously hurt. The connection was obvious.

It was broad daylight, but only slivers of light snuck through the cracks between the window curtains. Suddenly, the darkness bothered her. Darkness was where the unknown lurked. Darkness was the birth of unwelcome change.

She crouched, searching around the floor for where she’d dropped the matchbox last night. Spying it beneath the table, she grabbed it, struck a match, and relit the lantern.

She stood beside the table and peered at the tiny flickering flame. It put out a comforting orange glow, bringing a measure of relief. A light amid the darkness.

The danger had been circumvented. They’d rescued someone in need, Salizar had chased away the mob, and now they were leaving Beirstad completely. So why did she feel the same sense of dread? Why did her heart still ache and her blood run cold?

Why did she feel a shadow hanging over her?