PROLOGUE
Eternity. It was as endless and gray as the bleak sky above, broken only by the craggy teeth of the mountain peaks. Gusts of snow lashed at barren rock, the bitter wind howling with the fury of a thousand souls forever damned.
An ancient mountain, taller than all the rest, pierced the blanket of ashen clouds in the distance, flurries of white spilling over its rugged crests.
One side of the rock face was peppered with a handful of tiny hollows. Each hollow led down through layers and layers of rock until they all opened into an immense cavern with an arched ceiling and vast walls, buried deep inside the earth.
Etched into the ceiling was a carving. A single word of wrath, in a language as ancient as the mountain itself, long ago abandoned and nearly forgotten by mortals. This was a gateway to a realm of merciless darkness, of beautiful horrors and bloodthirsty nightmares.
Hollenfér.
Hell’s Way.
In the center of the cavern stood the Woman, her skin pink from the frigid bite of the cold despite the mask she wore to hide her face. She paid no heed to the iciness in her fingers as she chanted a feverish incantation under her breath. Lines of cobalt light raced from her palms, tearing through the rock floor and sending sprays of debris into the air. Her breaths became gasps as she struggled to maintain her focus, muscles quivering from exertion.
A deep hum swelled from beneath the ground, rumbling the walls and felling dust from above in a whirlwind of soot-stained snow. The hum grew to a roar as the light surged forth from the ground, twisting and lacing together to create an egg-shaped cluster suspended high above her head. A mighty bellow shook the cavern as the cluster exploded, revealing a black mass writhing through the air in agony, shrieking and howling with rage. The Woman watched in awe, wrists twirling as she shaped its dark flesh, pulling and pushing, melding it as she pleased.
When at last she finished, the creature’s howls had subsided. Gleaming red eyes drilled into the Woman’s very soul as the creature lumbered onto its feet, its lithe, wiry body hunched before her, packed with muscle and covered in silken fur. It unfurled its wings like a pair of billowing sails, stretching them up toward the cavern arches. Somehow, its body seemed to draw light inward, consuming it.
Darkness incarnate.
The Woman took a step back, not out of fear, but in admiration. It was a lethal masterpiece—a weapon to grant her every desire and more.
“Bow to me,” she commanded, still mesmerized. “I am your master, and you shall do as I say.”
“I bow to no one,” it rasped, claws clicking against the stone floor as it approached her.
“You shall do as I say,” she repeated, drawing a small blade from her sleeve.
The creature hissed, lunging at her with incomprehensible speed. She laughed, clear and sweet, and slashed it across the face. It landed in a heap at her feet, blood dribbling from its muzzle. “I am your master,” she whispered, lips curling in a cruel smile as she bent to stroke its ears. It remained silent as she sliced her forearm open with the same blade, mixing the beast’s blood with her own. “You are bound to me now.”
“I am bound to the earth,” it growled.
“I need you to perform a task for me,” she said, ignoring it.
“A task?” The creature’s eyes glazed over in obedience even as the words left its mouth.
“A shadow. I need you to be a shadow … a shadow of death.”
The trek back through the icy wasteland took three days, and the voyage south across the Loric Ocean to the continent of Aspea another week. They set sail in a small vessel, manned by a burly captain and a boorish crew who all seemed unfazed by the creature as the Woman guided it onboard. The temperature warmed as they crossed the great blue expanse, the captain navigating the treacherous waters with an expert hand and pockets weighed down with his reward.
Leaving the boat and its crew docked at a decaying pier on the westernmost shores of Axaria, they found a carriage awaiting them. The Woman locked the creature in the trunk and off they clattered into the night.
Under the cover of a moonless sky, the strange pair finally arrived on the outskirts of a small village that lay just on the fringes of a great forest. The Woman released the creature from the trunk and led it through the village. Shuttered windows and a peaceful, slumbering quiet greeted them. The cobbled streets were void of life—save for the Woman and the beast by her side.
The Woman paused by a brick-laid water well. The creature watched as she lowered the rope and drew up a wooden bucket. She raised the bucket to her lips with both hands and drank deeply. When she finished, the bottom of the pail still sloshed with water, and the creature saw that it had turned blacker than the sky above.
Unaware or uncaring, the Woman tossed the bucket back into the well, where it rattled off the brick and landed with an echoing sploosh.
Into the forest they delved, the creature merging with the gloom, invisible amongst the foliage. They forged deeper and deeper into the trees until they reached a branched archway leading to a clearing beyond. Tendrils of fog and mist crept through the stale air.
“Kill everything in your path,” the Woman crooned as she turned to leave. “Carry out my bidding and satisfy your bloodlust.” She faded into the fog, no more than a phantom wisp of smoke dissipating into the night itself. “Be my shadow.” The creature felt a breeze caress its muzzle. A sudden, searing heat seeped into the flesh she had slashed open, though the wound could not be seen for the blood still encrusting it.
A reminder—and a warning.
The Woman vanished completely, her final command ringing through the clearing, yet no louder than a spine-chilling whisper.
“Be Death.”
CHAPTER ONE
Asterin Faelenhart ran a brush through her hair, violently untangling the stubbornest of locks with her fingers. She cast a fierce glower at her reflection in the vanity mirror. Emerald eyes stared back, glimmering with the flames of candlelight. Her scowl deepened as she glimpsed the ugly bruise blossoming across her cheek, stark purple against ivory.
Sighing in irritation, Asterin pressed two fingers to the blemish and murmured a healing spell. A tingling sensation enveloped the tender spot, the purple leeching away. Halfway through, she hesitated, debating whether her appearance or her pride were of more value.
Biting her lip, she imagined her mother’s wrath at seeing her daughter as battered as a street brawler for the third day in a row. The bruise disappeared without a trace a moment later.
After dusting fine powder over her face, she twisted her ebony hair into a tight knot atop her head. She had to rummage through a drawer to find her tiara, its rubies twinkling as boldly as if they had managed to capture the candles’ embers within. She found some pins to fasten the tiara onto her head. The last thing she needed was for it to fall off—again.