Chapter 1

“You’re stalling, Never. It’s obvious.”

Elina lay in the undergrowth beside him, peering between the bright green fronds of bracken toward the shaded road. Her dark hair had been pulled back from her face, tied up to prevent an enemy getting a hand-hold. The role of Princess seemed to agree with her; there was a contentedness that he hadn’t seen the last time they’d met – though a flicker of annoyance was clear too. Their mark was late – no surprise, truly; the gross tardiness of the common thief was all too predictable.

“Of course I am,” Never said with a frown. “But I think I’m being subtle enough.” The scent of damp earth was strong, almost welcome after the harsh sun of the clearings.

“Is that so? It’s been three days since you arrived,” she replied. A smudge of dirt grazed her pale cheek. “Shouldn’t you have booked passage by now?”

“Keep this up and I’ll make it three more.”

She raised an eye-brow. “You don’t have to wait for Ferne, you know. There must be half a dozen other river boats heading west you could use.”

Never opened his mouth to reply but the crack of a whip stopped him. The rumbling of carriage wheels drew near, still muffled by the dense birch, but the rogue nobleman was finally approaching. “Ready?”

Elina nodded.

“Be careful,” Never said, then stood to leap and catch an overhanging branch. The bark was smooth beneath his palm as he swung himself up, then climbed higher. He stopped at a vantage point that offered clear line of sight to the tree that they’d fallen across the road.

An obvious ploy but it would work – someone always had to get out and remove it, no-one ever turned back. And more, it’d give Never and Elina a chance to see just how many men Baronet Fabiam had along on his treasonous little jaunt into the forest.

As a dark mare drew into sight, cresting the small hill, Never leaned forward. “Hope your driver’s watching where he’s going for your sake,” he said.

A sturdy carriage followed the horse and the driver had just enough time to jerk on the reigns to prevent sending himself, his mount and carriage smashing into the fallen trunk. The mare whinnied in protest as she skidded to a halt.

The fellow was cursing from the platform as the carriage door swung open. A guard wearing the livery of the Baronet climbed free, a hand on his hilt as he surveyed the trees. The driver was calling back to the man.

“Tree on the road.”

The guard barely glanced at it; instead he continued to focus on the trees. “It could be an ambush. Get the axe.”

“Sir.” The driver hauled himself down the steps and ran around to the rear of the carriage.

A bowstring snapped.

The guard gave a shout, falling to the ground. He clutched his knee where a feathered shaft protruded. Elina was already stalking forward, pale blue cloak stirring, a second arrow set to string.

“Throw your blade aside,” she ordered the guard.

Never rolled his shoulders, letting his wings free but keeping them close to his body, waiting, ready. One heartbeat. Two. He fell, wings spreading with a snap as he swooped down to thump onto the carriage roof.

A yelp came from within, but he drew a knife and pounced upon the driver. Never swung hard, striking the man across the head with the pommel. The fellow collapsed with a groan – there was a chance he’d survive at least. Never hadn’t meant to swing quite so hard but it was best to be sure.

He charged around to the door.

Within, a fop in a yellow and black livery complete with a small, peaked hat, was cringing against the opposite door. He fumbled with the handle, his eyes wide. Never reached in, grabbed a handful of cloth and hauled.

The Baronet crashed to the road, a puff of dust following. Then he gaped up at Never’s wings.

“Stay,” Never growled.

The man flinched.

Elina was already approaching, her expression rather unforgiving. The guard was bound, his weapons beyond reach. Blood ran from the swordsman’s knee and Never ignored the way his own blood stirred at the crimson. He positioned himself between the man and Elina, allowing a clear view of both the guard and Fabiam.

“Where is it?” Elina demanded.

The man lifted a trembling hand to point at the carriage, all without taking his eyes from Never’s wings. Never flared them as wide as possible, black feathers filling the edge of his vision.

Elina ducked into the carriage, rummaged around a moment, then returned with a head-sized wooden box. From within she drew forth a bronze disc marred by patina, a clump of straw falling away. The bronze design within was a stylised image of a man rowing a boat, possibly beneath the sun or moon. Never gave a low whistle – he’d seen enough antiquities to know something truly old when he saw it. Old and valuable. Nothing that would have helped him with his old quest; it didn’t appear Amouni, but it was still impressive. Perhaps dating back to Sarann’s heyday, before the city was buried.

Nobleman Fabiam was certainly going rogue in style.

Elina set it on the ground then drew a knife, pointing it at Fabiam. “Who are you selling this to? Answer quickly.”

“Jorga. He’s Vadiyem.”

Elina glanced over at Never. Trouble or coincidence? Vadiya involvement could be entirely incidental. It was too soon after the aborted invasion.

“He buys Hanik artefacts?”

“Yes. That’s all, Lady Elina.”

“Not a brilliant idea there, Fabiam,” Never said. “Couldn’t you find anyone else to sell to other than the country that just invaded your own? Maybe he’s selling more than artefacts. The charges of treason just keep mounting, don’t they, My Lady?” he said to Elina.

Elina nodded. “Indeed they do.”

Fabiam rose to his knees, hands pressed together. “Please, I stole the Solar Disc and the other pieces but that’s all it is. Jorga only wants trade to re-open between our nations and to have a head start when it does. And I only did it because I need the money.”

“What do you think, Never?” Elina asked, her expression unimpressed.

Never checked on the guard, who still sat bound, face white with pain, before shrugging. “I think he’s hiding something – maybe I could take him up for a little flight? We can see how high he bounces when I drop him.”

Fabiam froze, his face draining of colour. “My Lady!”

“Interesting idea, Never,” she said.

“We can bet on the outcome; it doesn’t even have to be height. How about number of bounces?”

She pursed her lips. “First, why don’t you clear the road for us.”

“My pleasure.”

Never drew one of his knives, the pattern of interlocking triangles raised against his skin. He made two quick incisions in his palms, deftly avoiding old scars. Blood welled and heat with it as the ancient Amouni magic stirred within him. Globes of flame grew, engulfing his hands in the crimson-fire.

Fabiam shrieked.

He ignored the man, instead flinging his hands at the huge tree trunk. Twin streams of blood shot forth and seared through the wood. Smoke rose from where he cut each line, working quickly. When a large, central section of the trunk thumped free, Never gave it another blast, sending the hunk rolling clear.

“There.” Never turned back to offer a quick bow.

Elina was grinning, though Fabiam was crumpled in a heap and the guard’s eyes were wide, his mouth agape. “Beautiful, Never. But before we load these traitors into the carriage I’d like you to make sure that piece doesn’t start a forest fire, if you don’t mind.”