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CHAPTER ONE

KAZIMYRAH OF BRIGHTMIST

A dusty beah the stone, and I leaned in, hoping to steal some warmth I was a thief It should have been easy, but the war had I been here? Five days? A month? Eleven years? I called out to o She is gone

The narrow bea spells of darkness, maybe once a day? I wasn’t sure, and even then it didn’t stay for long, sneaking in like a curious onlooker What have we here? It pointed at my belly now, ood Shouldn’t you do soh I heard as the bea me?

I wasn’t dead yet, so I knew that the knife plunged intovital But the wound wept yellow, andin

My drea out

Rats rustled in a dark unseen corner Synové hadn’tme about her dream I saw you chained in a prison cell … You were soaked in blood I re her fears Sometimes dreams are only dreams

And sometimes dreams were so much more

Where is Jase?

I heard a rattle and looked up I had a visitor He stood in the corner studying me

“You,” I said, n to my ears, weak and brittle “You’re here foryou”

He shook his head Not yet Not today I’m sorry

And then he was gone

I lay down on the floor, the chains jangling against the cobbles, and I curled tight, trying to ease the ache in ut

I’m sorry