“Yes. This transfer of kyra has opened a—leak. A conduit that wasn’t there before.” He caught a hint of turmoil in her, a glimpse of storm-tossed worry, before she blocked it. “The krin can exploit that.” He heard the whisper of her hair as she shook her head, the slight displacement of air as she breathed. Compared to everyone else, she was so quiet and still, so restful. Her presence was as soothing as it was suffocating. Their affinity was caused by no real feelings, but by a manipulation of energies. It was all contrived.
“First lesson,” said Isabella. “Get your thoughts out of the surface. Think them deeper down in your mind.”
“You don’t like this
bonding
anymore than I do.”
“No, but we both have to deal with it. If you can learn to use your kyra, then perhaps I won’t have this strain on mine.”
“And perhaps, I can push yours out and back to you.”
“I’m not sure it works that way.” He couldn’t see it, but he knew the quizzical arch of her brows. “It could be worth a try, though.”
“Does this mean I
won’t
have to go to the Point and beg the Sisters to take me on as a novice?”
A laugh escaped Isabella. “Sel above, no! I don’t think anyone would survive the encounter. Besides, the Sisters have never taken on any men.”
“Not even other slayers?”
“No. My father thought that I would benefit from the additional training in kyra. The thinking goes”—said provokingly—“is that men do not have the flexibility of mind to use kyra.”
“Oh yes? I look forward to proving them wrong.”
“I don’t doubt it.” She was more relaxed now, warm and laughing. He had a hundred more questions, but they could wait. Now was not the time. For the first time in days, Rafe felt like almost his old self. The events from the past weeks slid from him like a coat, to be donned again later.
But for now—“Why are we up here again?”
“I’m here to watch the moon rise.”
Something he could not see. “Of course.”
They sat there, shoulder to shoulder, in companionable silence. And when the moon did come up, Isabella unbent enough to let him see it through her eyes. Together, they watched it rise up like a full-bellied galleon, lighting up the sky, heralding a new day, bringing a new beginning.
Coming soon:
A Sunless World Novel
Actress. Businesswoman. Trend-setter.
Before she was all these, Sable Monarique was the timid, awkward daughter of a disgraced family in the domed jungle city of Monaria. After leaving home and crossing the Divide, she reinvented herself in Oakhaven.
Seven years later, she returns with wealth, a confident persona, and a mage newly come into his powers. It's time to rebuild what was lost.
But Sable’s not the only one who's changed. New families have risen to prominence. Conspiracies are hatched in the dark. An old flame isn’t the man she loved and left. Sable must do more than restore her family to its rightful place. She must also uncover--and deal with--the rot at the heart of her city.
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Thank you for reading this book! If you enjoyed the story, please consider mentioning it on Twitter or Facebook, or reviewing it on your blog, Goodreads, or the site you got it from.
This book would not have been possible without the support of several people.
Many thanks go to Jo Anderton, friend, beta reader, morale-booster, and writing buddy extraordinaire, for her advice and encouragement over the years. You are awesome.
May-Lin Iversen kindly proofread the manuscript and caught some more pesky typos. Any remaining ones are, of course, solely my responsibility. Thank you, May!
I am grateful for Lisa Ahn, Tehani Wessely, and others who supported the serialization of this story before it was a book.
Last, but not least, is my husband David, who didn't blink an eyelash when I told him I wanted to write a book set on a sunless world in a mechanical universe. Thank you for helping me build my world, for reading this book multiple times, for handling the formatting, and for being the voice of cheer and reason during the times of angst and self-doubt. I wouldn't have made it this far without you.
Singing for the Enemy and Other Stories
I break fairy tales and fuse fantasy and science fiction. I love to write about embattled heroes who never give up, transformation and redemption, and things from outer space. In my spare time, I read, doodle, eat chocolate, avoid housework, and homeschool my three children.
A native of Pakistan, I grew up in hot, humid Karachi. I then spent almost a decade in Northern New England where I learned to love fall, tolerate snow, and be snobbish about maple syrup and sweet corn. I now live in Northern Virginia.
Visit me online at
http://www.rabiagale.com
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