CHAPTER ONE

Reikka

The warm metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, but instead of spitting it away, I let it coat my teeth. Then I gave my opponent a cheesy little grin. It had the desired effect, and she charged me again, but she had become sloppy in her frustration. I dodged the slash of her blade, slinking to the side and spinning on one foot. I put the butt of my sword into the back of her head, and she fell forward, hard.

Pausing to catch my breath, I spat blood toward the side of the arena as she rolled over. Swinging my sword and keeping my muscles loose, I gave her a few seconds to try to stand. She was disoriented from the blow and wobbled, falling back. With an exasperated sigh, I rested the fat side of my blade on my shoulder as I sauntered toward her.

“You’re done, Adelay.” I drawled, “Lay down and take a breath.”

Ignoring me, she gritted her teeth and tried to stand again. This time when she fell, she lay all the way back, letting her arms and legs flop outwardly, her breathing heavy.

“That was a little better,” I said, with a hint of condescension. “But you left yourself open when you got frustrated again.”

She grumbled at me from her spot on the ground before reaching for my outstretched hand. Standing, she pushed the curls that had come loose from her hair tie out of her face and sighed. I gave her a pat on the back and walked her toward one of the benches on the side of the sparring ring.

Adelay was my sister; one of many, not by blood but in fellowship. We were the select few who were lucky enough to be raised in the Harridan Society, by the grace of King Aelthor and Father Pterol Lockheed. The Society stood in secret behind the mask of the Lockheed Estate. Here, young girls, like us, were educated, trained, and hardened into Wraithland’s most skilled and ruthless warriors, as well as courtiers, and sometimes farmhands or servants.

It was not an easy life, but it was far better than others endured here. Wraithland was a mostly barren island, surrounded by magic wards that prevented most of its citizens from leaving, creating a cruel and desperate culture with fierce competition for survival. In the Society, we were given the best education, the best food, and the security of a home that many did not have. All of this, because we were the gifted few who not only had great skill with magic, but also an ability to cross the wards. All that was asked of us in return was to help our fellow countrymen by completing missions assigned to us and furthering Wraithland’s cause for freedom.

Adelay sat heavily on the bench, panting and rubbing the back of her head. With a knowing smile, I took her weapon to re-rack it with mine. I scooped up a rag on my way back and dipped it into the cool water of a fountain before tossing it to Adelay. She took it gratefully and wiped her face and the back of her neck. She was a pretty girl, with copper curls and appraising golden eyes. She was curvier than most of us; years of hard training typically made for lean muscles and hard angles, which didn’t seem to show on her. It would make her an asset on the continent, where softness in women was praised. She would be assigned a role in the house in just a few months, joining the ranks of senior sisters.

“If you want to be a Saithe, you need to train more. Hand-to-hand is the number one skill you need to master,” I said, sitting next to her. Wiping my damp hand on the back of my neck and looking up, I sighed at the coolness and watched the dancing light as it filtered in through the glass ceiling. On the surface was a reflecting pool that did well enough to obscure our presence down here.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure your ten years on me has nothing to do with the fact that you beat me every time,” she grumbled.

“Hey now, there are only six years between us,” I scoffed. “But the truth is you should train with Daren whenever you can; he’s one of the best at hand-to-hand.”

Adelay made a disgusted grunt next to me. “I hate training with Daren,” she said. “He always wants to go back to his room after, and there’s just something about fucking the guy that just handed you your ass that just doesn’t sit well with me.”

I had to bite my lip and look away to stifle a laugh. She was not wrong, though thankfully, I had yet to have that experience with him. Daren had little interest, it seemed, in those of us who were older and had grown up with him more or less, not that the same didn’t stop the other Warders. Part of our training included seduction, which meant practicing. Something that many of the Warders took a little too much advantage of, for my liking. Not that we complained; complaining wasn’t allowed.

“I’m going to go bathe before dinner. I might suggest you do the same.” I gave her a look and sauntered across the arena to the stairs. “Our lesson is done for today,” I said over my shoulder, catching the eye of Marcus on the second level as he oversaw the arena training sessions.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the hallways. The only light here came from small, gold-lined channels that reached up to the surface and reflected light back down. Setting aside the annoyance, I continued up the stairs to the mezzanine, then down the hall to the bathing chamber, located in the basement of the main house, beside the laundry room. It wasn’t anything special, but a large stone room with a huge fireplace and tubs. Water was supplied from the same enchanted fountains that supplied the arena with drinking water. There was no need to heat the water since warming it with our magic was one of the first things we learned as children.

There were a handful of other women in the bathing chamber, all going about their business except for a trio of younger girls who stood huddled to the side, giggling behind their hands. Clearing my throat, I made my presence known, and they separated. Flying apart like insects being swatted at. I would have liked to leave them be, but if a Warder had found out, I would have been reprimanded along with them. As a senior sister, it was my duty to help train the younger generations and keep them safe, sometimes even from themselves.

I took my time washing up and heading to the dining hall, also on this level, for dinner. There were too many of us now to all be seated together, so most of the house ate in shifts. I collected my food from the long table by the door as usual and found the other senior sisters, Moreanne, Leeta, and Finnea, sitting together on the far side. Sliding into a seat beside them, I inspected the seafood stew and hunk of rough bread before taking a bite. It was fine, as usual, if not bland, but the bread was fresh at least.

“How is it today?” Leeta asked, flicking her long blonde hair over her shoulder and leaning on the table. I gave her a shrug by way of response. She nodded knowingly; there wasn’t much that changed here from day to day.

“I’m heading on a mission at the end of the week,” Moreanne announced to a round of grim-faced nods at the table.

“Long?” I asked, keeping my words clipped, so as not to draw attention from a Warder, there were always a few of them in the dining hall.

“Not sure,” she said, taking a bite of her stew. Her dark curls fell forward as she looked into her bowl.

I took a moment to study her. Missions could last a day or weeks, and occasionally some of our sisters wouldn’t return. We were not able to share information about our missions, not just to protect the mission itself, but also to protect each other. This could easily be one of the last moments I would share with Moreanne, and I wanted to imprint her image in my memory. Noting her perfectly smooth, rich brown skin and warm eyes, I thought about her smile and the way it could infect everyone around her with ease. I ripped off a hunk of my roll and tossed it at her face. She caught it one-handed without flinching and looked up, smiling back at me.

A shout from the other side of the room had us turning our heads curiously. Leon was standing over a table of younger girls with a stern expression.

“You are all finished,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “Begin evening chores.”

In unison, the girls stood, taking their trays, many of which were still mostly full and dispersed, as directed. This was the usual punishment for those caught chatting or laughing too much or too loudly. They would go to bed hungry. We all turned back to our food, ignoring any pity we had for them. It had happened to us all more than once. 

“You’ll be back soon enough,” I reassured her in a low voice.

Her face fell, and she gave a quick look around the room. “It’s more the mission itself,” she whispered.

Leeta stretched her arms wide above her head, peeking over us and scanning the dining room, before resting back down with a nod. This was the signal that the Warders in the room were all occupied, and we had a few moments to speak without being overheard.

“I’ll be traveling with the pirates,” Moreanne said grimly.

We all exchanged a look. None of us had ever worked with the pirates. They were the rough and rowdy people who manned the handful of ships that were willing to come to our shores from the continent. The men who ran them were ruthless and vile. We had all seen our older sister, Hilda, return from a mission with them once, one she had barely survived and still bore the scars to this day—a rarity for the Elven-blooded. I shivered despite myself.

“They wouldn’t have chosen you if you couldn’t handle it,” Finnea said, her honeyed eyes conveying an earnestness that I wished I could feel.

I was scared for Moreanne, for her mission into the unknown. We were all that was left of our year. The Assigning was done once a year, and any woman who met the requirements, academically and physically, would be assigned a formal position in the Society. Our year had thirteen assignments, one of the largest to date, and eight years later, there were only five of us left. Under the table, I slid my booted foot over to her, giving hers a tap with mine.

“You of all people will be fine,” I reassured her. Moreanne’s particular skills with magic had always revolved around water, and while none of us could be sure of our ancestry, it was likely she had some kind of Waterfolk in her.

“I’ve got a week nonetheless.” She shrugged, forcing the trepidation from her expression, and gave us all a half-hearted smile, which we all returned in kind.

Leeta coughed into her hand, and we all perked up to find a younger sister approaching. She was in the clothing of the novices, those under the age of sixteen, who had yet to go through The Ascension, becoming apprentices.

“Sister Reikka,” she said curtly, and my muscles tightened in apprehension. I wiped my chin and turned toward her, brows raised. “Father would like to speak to you when you have finished eating.”

“Thank you, Sister,” I said flatly before turning back to my stew. She took the dismissal, and we all waited for the tapping of her boots to fade into the sounds of the dining hall before speaking again.

“Sounds like you’ll be on mission soon, too.” Leeta sighed.

The rest of the meal carried on in the same hushed tones and stolen expressions as it always had. As the last to arrive, I was also the last to leave, reluctantly cleaning my bowl and plate in the large sink, drying and re-stacking them as I did every meal before heading up to the second floor.

I found Father, not in his office but in the parlor next door, where he often entertained guests. It was a larger room, with windows that overlooked the reflecting pool, below which the arena sat. Outfitted with several couches, small tables, and even a piano, it was possibly the most comfortable room in the whole manor, which is why the sisters were not often permitted to enter it.

“Ah, Reikka, there you are.” Father sat in one of the plush leather chairs with his feet propped on a low stool in front of him. Like most Elven-blooded, and all those in the Aellon line, he was tall and lean, with long, tapered ears, blue-gray eyes, and a handsome, regal face.

In the chair opposite sat his long-time friend and fellow council member, Xander Shogun. He was one of the handful of people outside the manor who knew of our existence. It was rumored that Shogun was one of the purest Elvin-blooded on the island, next to King Aelthor himself. He had recently had his four-hundredth birthday, which was a strong indicator of his heritage; pure-blooded Elves could live to over five hundred years old, but that lifespan is greatly diminished with each drop of Non-Elven blood. It was also rumored that he was Moreanne’s father, and while I had never seen them in a room together, it was still obvious that there was enough resemblance to support the theory. They had the same dark skin and unique upturned golden-brown eyes.

Shogun held his drink between his hands and inclined his head to me for a moment, his gaze assessing, before sipping his wine casually. I stood just in front of the door with my feet planted shoulder-width apart, hands overlapping behind my back, as I had been trained to do. My eyes rested on Father, who couldn’t be bothered to look in my direction and instead watched something out the window.

Father, known to everyone but the sisters as Pterol Aellonson, was closer to two hundred years old, still in the prime of his life for an Elven-blooded. Despite this, his sandy hair was already streaked with gray. He was tall and lean like a younger man, but the stress of being the king’s right hand and running the Harridan Society showed in his face. There were wrinkles in the corners of his hooded, gray eyes, and under the left one, a single marking began and arced over his cheekbone, before disappearing into his hairline. It was a flat well of a scar that was marked over in black ink and signified he had suffered a great loss.

Markings, whether scars, brands, or tattoos, especially on the face, were used in our culture as a way to denote someone’s skills and rank in society. Pterol was one of the few who bore such a noticeable mark on his face. Unfortunately, the Harridans were not permitted markings to avoid easy identification, though I could assume that with the lives we lead, we would be some of the most marked beings in the country. 

“I trust you have settled back into a routine after your last mission?” Father asked, swirling the dark red liquid in his glass.

“Yes, Father,” I answered directly and without inflection.

“You have been back for what, three weeks?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good, good, I’m glad you’ve had a bit of a rest.” He said, taking a sip of his wine while I shoved down my eye roll. There was no room for rest in this manor for a Harridan. We were expected to train, cook, clean, teach, and serve the men of the manor. Every moment of our waking hours full to the brim. I understood why it was like this for the younger women and girls who were still training, but it was a bit of a disappointment when I was assigned a role in the Society to find out that the perks of seniority only afforded me little more comfort than I already had.

“There is a new mission, this one is going to take a while, and we are creating a new position for it as well.” He looked up at me for the first time and smiled blandly. “We will call it a Braithe. You are the first to test it out.”

Hidden one who speaks, a voice echoed in my mind.

The term, a bastardization of an ancient language, more often referred to a spy. It took a moment for me to realize the voice that resonated in my head just now wasn’t my own. An icy tingle traced its way down my spine, but I pushed it away, focusing again on what Father was saying to me.

“It’s come to our attention that aside from the rulers on the continent, there are certain businessmen and such that have amassed their own wealth and power. These men may have even more influence than the kings themselves. We would like you to infiltrate the business dealings of the Duke of Balliendon, Raibyn Telebh. He isn’t noble-born but was bestowed the honor by King Tariq Agyros in recent years, likely just to get more of his business dealings into the king’s coffers.

“You are to find out how much influence he actually has, what his income and personal guard consist of, and if he is a threat to us or a potential sympathizer.” Pterol took a breath and sipped his wine.

His eyes trailed my body as I stood before him. Part of our training was in seduction, and often Father or the other Warders took a new sister to bed each night to practice. Father’s interest in me has waned over the last few years, with him requesting my presence less and less. It was disheartening at first, as I used to be his favorite, but now I suspected that I was losing the fineness of youth; my curves and chest beginning to round as my human body reached its thirties. I had noticed his preference for the younger, newly ascended girls, and while at first, I recognized the pangs of jealousy, I now began to feel something more like disgust.

Again, I had to shove my thoughts away and refocus to keep my attention on Father’s words.

“Daren has compiled notes on the culture and family history of Miss Lillian Telebh, whom you will remove and replace before she travels to the Telebh mansion in Balliendon,” he said, watching me steadily. “He can give you most of the details, but we expect it to be about a two-year timeline.”

I blanched. The longest mission I had been on was two weeks; most missions were a handful of days at most, not including travel. I had never been away from the manor or unsupervised by a Warder for so long before; I doubted any of my sisters but Hilda had been.

“That’s a long time,” Shogun said, echoing my thoughts aloud in his deep, soothing timbre.

“Yes, it is,” Father agreed, turning to him almost excitedly. “It's just that there is so much about the continent that we don’t know after all this time. We are testing out the efficacy of long-term placement to collect pertinent information that can help us better assess our targets for when Aelthor…” He trailed off and looked up at me, as if remembering I was in the room. “You are dismissed,” he said curtly.

I scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind me and taking a deep breath in the hall. Spending two years on mission was something I couldn’t fathom; the tension it created in me was more than I wanted to face, so I shoved the thoughts away and went straight to the dormitory. As far as anyone else knew, I would be with Father or Shogun for the rest of the evening. There was a possibility I could relax and read, or get some much-needed rest.