First Three Chapters of Book 2

Chapter One

Betrayal

Sometimes I hate Kate. 

I hate how, in her brief time on the Isle, she blundered her way into our hearts without shame, making a mess, doing whatever she wanted. I hate how she is still blundering around my thoughts even after I banished her. 

I see her face now, as I stand across from the door I pushed her through into the human realm. I remember how her eyes went dark when she realized what I was doing. 

I close my eyes. I vanquished her physically. Now, I just need to conquer these thoughts of her. 

“Betrayal,” War says, breaking through my reverie. She is standing across from the Cursed Throne, her eyes concerned. 

I look down. I am strangling the hilt of Incisor. 

“Sorry,” I say, lowering my knife. Incisor has been oddly comforting to hold recently.  

War comes over and lays a hand on my shoulder. She is being sympathetic, but I still feel nervous at her touch. After all, this is where I murdered our father. Where his head rolled. I can’t imagine she is as neutral as she seems. 

Chaos stands to my left. Our father’s death sits like an unwanted guest at the table between us. In the months that followed his passing, we still have yet to talk about it. 

“It was what we always intended to do,” War says, speaking aloud what we all are thinking. 

Next to me, Chaos nods blankly. They have been strangely stable since Death’s demise. Frighteningly so. I prefer their pot-stirring antics and twisted games. 

“Yes,” I say, voice hollow. I don’t dare say the question that hangs around my neck, robbing me of any peace. 

Do you resent me for it? 

“Why aren’t there mourning flowers?” Chaos asks, kneeling on the ground. They are wearing an extravagant crimson suit. I am wearing a black, floor-length gown, with cutouts on my midriff, and sheer green-blue mesh crawling up my neck. War is in her neatest armor, as blue as her eyes. We are dressed in our finest. 

“Perhaps the Isle doesn’t provide a posy for the incarnate of death,” War muses, looking at the mound where Death’s body is interred. It is plain soil, no flowers in sight. 

Chaos stands, dusting off their coat. We are on our way to the Extinction, the mirth held each new moon for all the unsettled. Night, the newly appointed host, explicitly invited us. 

I touch the hex on my arm that compels me to attend each Extinction, despite Death’s passing. I told War and Chaos not to come, but they insisted. Threats were made. I relinquished first.  

War nods to me. “Let’s find our lost kin and be on our way.”

I grit my teeth and kneel, fingers stroking the dead grass. My metal nails scrape the dirt as I use stonecraft to search deep beneath the ground. It has been several months since I killed our father, and yet the offspring created by his passing never emerged from the dirt. There was no Joining. No sending the offspring to school. We don’t understand why—perhaps because Death was not here to greet them. 

I feel something with a heartbeat far beneath the surface. I close my eyes, concentrating. They are so far below. Kate would have no difficulty digging them out. 

I shake my head sharply, then exhale bluish-green smoke and tug. The body beneath the surface rises a few inches. 

“You found them,” War says, kneeling beside me. 

I grit my teeth and tug again. I do this in intervals, resting after every pull. They don’t seem to want to come out. 

“Almost there,” War says, though she has no idea. She is trying to be encouraging, holding us all together. If our melancholy ever lifts, I will have to thank her for it. Chaos too. They are doing their best to stay grounded. We are all trying to keep strong for each other. I am doing my part by not thinking about Kate. Kate, who causes me to make unpredictable, jeopardizing decisions. 

A withered hand pops out of the ground. I cringe. 

“Do you think they are…” Chaos doesn’t finish the question.

“No,” I say. 

I tug again, and a curled-up body emerges. The new offspring is a lean, sickly looking incarnate, his dark hair streaked with dirt. Roots are growing around his legs and hands. 

I exhale smoke, relieved that’s over. Stonecraft feels far more difficult than it used to. 

I hesitantly touch the offspring’s shoulder. 

His eyes open, startling me. He has Death’s eyes, the same pale green, as if it were Death staring up at me. 

I back away. The offspring watches me, his eyes accusing, rimmed in black. He has a haunting, intimidating look. 

War kneels beside the offspring, draping a robe stitched with kelpies around him. We have no bestowal box, no charms to give. No Ingenuity to take him to school.  

“You should acknowledge him,” War says. 

I’d prefer not to acknowledge this living reminder of what I did, but I do as War bids.

“Welcome, Son,” I say, sliding Incisor into its holster. “I am sorry your birth took so long, and there is no one except us to greet you. We have no charms for you either. But at least you are alive.” That is more than some can say.

“What will you call him?” Chaos asks. 

I sigh, remembering how I sliced my father’s head clean off his body.

“Butcher.” 

Butcher shakily kneels in the dirt, hugging the robe around him. He tries to climb to his feet, but his legs are so weak, Chaos has to help him. 

“We should take him to school,” Chaos says, one hand wrapped around Butcher’s waist. “He can recover there.”

“You want him residing so close to Night’s keep?” I ask. 

“Is there anywhere truly safe from the Lord of Darkness anymore?” Chaos asks. 

I sigh and rub my palm. Elixir approaches, and Butcher scowls as my wraith sniffs his skin, drooling a little on his shoulder. 

War helps Butcher climb aboard, then also mounts, wrapping strong arms around Butcher to keep him from falling. 

“What are we waiting for?” War asks me. “The Extinction has already begun.” 

I pause, looking once more at the door I pushed Kate through. 

Chaos dusts off their crimson coat. 

“Backup wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” they say, examining their cuffs. “Any chance of bringing back—”

I toss my blade at Chaos’s face, using metalcraft to easily clear their head. They still duck, hissing. 

“Do not ask me again,” I say, pulling Incisor back into my hand with metalcraft. 

Chaos raises their hands in surrender. 

“Fine,” they say, “but would you throw Incisor at me again? I do so love diving for my life.”

I roll my eyes, then leap onto Elixir, forming a stone step for Chaos to ascend. Then I snarl in Elixir’s ear. 

“Take us to Night’s keep.”

***

Dusk comes earlier and earlier since Night’s escape from my keep. The sun is already sinking into an early twilight as Elixir sprints down the rugged mountain path, heading toward Spring’s verdant lands. I feel on edge as we pass deciduous tree after deciduous tree. 

My heart sinks. 

“We just crossed into Spring’s realm,” War says, her voice strained. 

It may be Spring’s realm, but it is impossible to tell. The cherry blossoms have been replaced with red foliage. Instead of the smell of fresh grass and honey, it smells like dying embers. Bonfires light up the forest. In the distance, werewolves howl. Treachery, I do not want to run into the werewolf pack today. 

War hands me a leaf that fell into her lap. It’s brown and curling at the edges. 

“Autumn…here?” she asks. 

I twirl the leaf between my fingers. “Life’s death is affecting the entire Isle.”

“The weather too?” Chaos asks, looking up at the stormy sky. “Life never influenced the weather.”

I crush the leaf. “Night must be behind this.”

We continue riding, all of us scanning the trees, hoping the autumn forest will change to spring, but it doesn’t. 

“It will be difficult to grow food,” Chaos says, observing the dead grass. “Kate’s human friend will suffer.”

I frown. Let Jax starve. 

Despite the rushing wind, I still hear footsteps behind us. Elixir hears them, too, startling beneath my hands. 

Something is following us. 

“What is it?” War asks as I spur Elixir on.  

“Something is keeping up with Elixir,” I say, lowering my head to decrease wind drag. 

“That’s impossible,” Chaos says. 

“Duck down, Chaos,” War says. 

Elixir increases his speed. The trees seem to be closing in around us, but Elixir weaves easily through the gnarled branches, quick as lightning. And yet the footsteps persist, sounding like thundering hooves against packed ground. My stomach drops. I know that sound. 

Death’s kelpie. 

“He’s gaining on us,” I shout.

“I don’t see anything,” War says. 

“Can’t you hear it?” I ask. 

The ground seems to be shaking with the power of the kelpie’s hooves. I squeeze Elixir’s fur. 

Elixir digs his heels into the ground, lurching all of us forward as he grinds to a stop. Chaos would certainly have flown off if it weren’t for me in front.

“Wha—?” I cling to Elixir’s neck. He’s whimpering. Only a few paces in front of us stands the kelpie, front four legs pawing the ground, mane a tangled mess of seaweed, eyes dull green orbs. And riding Plague is…

“Death,” I say, my voice lost in the wind. 

My father sits astride the kelpie. Headless. 

“Dying lands,” I whisper.

“What is happening?” War asks. “Why did we stop?”

“Can’t you see him?” I ask as Elixir shifts nervously beneath me.

“Who?” Chaos asks as War leaps off Elixir. She quickly scouts the perimeter, her blade appearing at her hip. 

“Daughter.” I hear Death’s voice despite the absence of his head. 

“What do you want?” I ask, feeling wretched. 

Plague stomps the ground, and Elixir backs away. 

“The end approaches for you,” Death says.

I swallow. 

“I can see him.”

I look behind me at the offspring. Butcher’s black-rimmed eyes are fixed on Death. 

“What should we do?” Chaos asks. 

I lift my hands. They are dripping with bright green craft. My father’s craft. 

“Treachery,” I say, lighting my hands on fire. Blue-green flames burst from my palms like writhing snakes. They shoot toward the headless body, growing more ferocious, encircling Plague in fire. The kelpie vanishes, along with Death. 

My flames go out as the vision vanishes. Harsh smoke cascades out of my mouth as I try to calm myself. 

“You can come back, War,” I say, looking at my hands. The craft on my fingers is gone. “I know what it was.”

War returns to Elixir’s side, kicking dead leaves and mud off the bottom of her shoes. “Tell me.” 

“It isn’t Life’s death turning the Living Lands to autumn,” I say. “It’s Fall.”

“How do you know?” Chaos asks.

I nod toward the smoking ground where Death stood a moment ago. “That was her harbinger spell. Only fire can destroy it.”

“Fall is spreading her spellcraft throughout Spring’s realm?” War asks, her face stricken. “Why would she do that? That is an act of war.”

“I thought she wanted the settled life,” Chaos says.

I shiver as I remember Death’s voice in my head. The end approaches. 

“That must be why there are so many bonfires,” War says. “The settled are trying to ward off her visions.”

I grit my teeth. “I will pay her a visit once the Extinction is over.”  

War leaps cleanly onto Elixir’s back. Once she’s settled, I spur Elixir forward. 

Chaos touches my neck, and my hair becomes ash blonde and wavy. 

“So, her specters can’t find you,” Chaos says. It is old folklore that disguising one's face or hiding beneath cloaks can trick Fall’s specters. 

 I nod gratefully, my new hair billowing behind me in the biting wind. Hopefully, that’s the last I’ll see of my headless father.

Chapter Two

Betrayal

Night’s keep. 

The serene pagoda rests upon the seacliffs, its wooden decks stretching far over the cliff edge, casting a shadow onto the sea below. 

We climb off Elixir’s back, Butcher landing hard on the sand, a few roots falling off his ankles. 

My disguise melts away, ash hair replaced by my normal waist-length black hair. 

“That is Haventide,” War says to Butcher, pointing toward a small island not far from the shore, the glowing city of a school resting atop it. Students are studying the stars on the observation decks. “They will house you and help you…put some meat on your bones.”

Butcher looks at the massive stone school, his face skeptical.

“You will be fine,” Chaos says. “Every offspring starts there.”

I break off a piece of ironless metal from my dress and shape it into a small knife, which I then hand to Butcher. 

“You are on your own from here,” I say, not meeting his horrible eyes. 

Butcher’s fingers curl around the knife. I wonder if he will join forces with Destruction, another child of mine, who is also attending school. The two of them will probably form a kinship based on a mutual hatred of me. 

“Wait here,” I tell Elixir, stroking his fur. Kincreatures are not allowed past this point. 

We leave Butcher and Elixir and begin climbing the cliff steps covered in sea moss and black diamonds that sparkle in the fading light. Crabs scurry away from our feet. Above us, I hear the sounds of Night’s guests on the decks of his keep—partying, fighting, laughing. Mixing potions. Creating new spells. I hear tell Depravity is attempting to turn the moon black in Night’s honor.

“We could use Kate,” Chaos says, applying a dusty layer of white chalk to their crimson lips. It gives them a dramatic look. 

I consider tossing my knife again, but Chaos is using War as a protective shield. We keep climbing. The sun sets completely as we make our way to the top of the cliffs, black ocean waves crashing against the rocks below. Ever since Night’s escape from my keep, the night sky feels more vast and ominous. There are hundreds of falling stars. 

“If Night attempts to capture you, I will defend you,” I whisper to Chaos and War. “I don’t care if I lose my craft. You, however, protect yours at all costs.”

War’s expression sours. “We are all spellbound not to fight at Extinctions. Don’t say such foolish things, Betrayal.”

We reach the top of the cliffs. The nightmist pulls away, allowing us to approach the keep. Half of Night’s keep is an open-air design with seamless ash floors and balconies upon balconies built to draw attention to the pagoda and the sky. Lanterns hang overhead, illuminating Night’s perfectly cultivated jasmine trees, full of sweet-smelling flowers that only bloom at night. While Death’s keep was stuffy and packed to the rafters, Night’s is simplistic, clean, and haunting. 

Laughter dies wherever we go. Incarnates watch as we walk across the pristine floorboards and up the pebble-stone steps with open skylights and dewy mock orange bushes on either side. Every single incarnate we pass is unsettled. 

 I veer right. 

“Wrong way,” War says. 

I continue down the hall. “Always so perceptive.” 

War groans and follows. In a quieter section of the keep, I head toward the guest chambers. I know the pagoda well. Death often used it as a seaside retreat while Night was his prisoner. 

I open different doors. 

“What are you looking for?” Chaos asks as we accidentally walk in on three incarnates wrapped in each other's arms. “Are you trying to vex Night?”

I shut the door. “Could I do anything more vexing than helping our father imprison him for five hundred years?” 

“Just tell us,” War says, impatiently. 

“Destruction,” I say, poking my head into another room with a private balcony over the sea and a luminescent pool for late-night dips. “In a last-ditch attempt to sway her to my side.”

War shakes her head. “It won’t work.”

I know, but I have to try. Destruction promised she would help me. Winning her over to my side would be a major victory. One we sorely need. 

I open another door. This room has two balconies and a magnificent jasmine tree hanging over the side, catching the sea air. There is a large bed in the center with crisp white sheets. The room was designed to invite relaxation, but it has been left a complete disaster—crammed with tables overflowing with books, stacks of paper, and… human objects.

I’m in the right place. 

Someone lifts her head from a smaller bed, tucked into an arched window. 

“Betrayal?” Renegade asks. 

I sweep inside, eyeing the offspring Kate created. 

“So, here you are,” I say as Renegade sits up fully from where she’s lying. She looks…different. She once had such a carefree, bright-eyed face. But now she looks…dark. And bitter.

“How are they treating you?” I ask, tentatively. It isn’t hard to guess. 

Renegade makes an exasperated sound. 

“You shouldn’t have imprisoned me,” she says, standing with a huff, buttoning the top button of her vest. She’s wearing a vest with nothing else underneath. It shows off her long, toned arms. “You should have just let me go to school like everyone else.” 

I frown. It’s easy to spot Kate's boldness in Renegade’s features. It makes me want to run away. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to make my sincerity evident in my voice. 

Renegade stretches as if she doesn’t care. She has a long body and is much taller than Kate. 

“You weren’t there when I needed you,” she says, shrugging. “Neither was Kate. I’ve had to figure it out for myself.” 

“Why don’t you leave?”

Renegade chuckles and shows me her arm. I exhale a gust of smoke. One of my loyalty hexes rests on her bicep. When Night escaped my keep, he stole every loyalty hex I had—and used one on Renegade.  

“Who did he bind you to?” I ask. 

Renegade bites her lip, then cocks her head at someone over my shoulder. I turn around. 

Destruction stands in the doorway, her purple-pink eyes feverishly bright. 

“Step back, Betrayal,” she says, entering the room. “Or I will saw off your head like you did your father.”

War growls. If we weren’t in someone else’s keep, her sword would be on Destruction’s neck right now. 

I do as I’m told, backing away from Renegade. “You look good, Destruction,” I say, folding my arms. “Authoritarianism agrees with you.”

I’m clearly jesting. Destruction looks bleak, her slight frame packed with nervous energy. She makes her way to me, head at an angle, getting far too close. I back up even further. 

“Mother,” she purrs, smiling wide enough to show cuspids. “Long time, no see. I wish I could say I missed you, but you have been very absent in my newborn-rearing.”

“Daughter,” I say, eyeing her human shirt and pants. Who is making these outfits for her? “I would love to be more present. Why don’t you make good on your promises and come home with me?”

Destruction moves in closer. It disarms me. Most incarnates prefer personal space. 

“I never promised,” she says, her lip curling. The tips of her hair are whiter than Renegade’s hair. 

“You have a creature because of me,” I say. 

“And my torturous existence,” Destruction says. “You’re right, I owe you so much.”

I try again. “Night is not one to hedge your bets with. You want to drown out your founding? Him baying for settled craft will only amplify it.”

Destruction looks down at her feet. “You really think so?”

I sigh. What an act. 

“Never mind,” I say, brushing past her. “I forgot what a monster you are.”

Something slides against my neck. I have battled enough to recognize a knife being pressed to my skin. 

“What are you doing?” I ask, shocked. “We are in another’s keep. You will lose your craft for this.”

“Funny thing,” Destruction says, coming back into view, holding the hilt of her blade, “what this monster can do with the power you endowed me.”

“You made a weapon,” I say, raising my hands in submission. My craft seizes up inside me, snagging in my veins, begging me to run away. 

Destruction pulls out a twin blade with her other hand, twirling it around. They are beautiful short blades, dark and vicious, like ice picks. I hear War pacing with worry nearby. 

“My newest companions,” Des says, placing the second blade on my neck. “Made with destructioncraft.”

That is what I am sensing. A blade laced with destruction. My body warms, like it is trying to fight off one of Sickness’s infections. 

“Go ahead,” I say. “Slit my throat. But you will lose everything. All the prestige you have acquired. All your…prizes.” I look at Renegade. 

Renegade rubs her face as if this happens every day. “No need to take it this far, Des.”

Destruction doesn’t bat an eye. 

“Foolish,” she titters. “To think Protection’s laws could bind someone like me.”

My mouth goes dry. “What do you mean?”

Des leans closer, but I can’t smell her breath. Most incarnates have a scent, mine being predominantly balsam. But hers…is nothing. 

“I guess I should thank you for such overwhelming, nauseating power,” she says. “Power so beyond comprehension that I can easily destroy Protection’s spell.”

My heart stops. Impossible. No one, in all our history, has managed to break Protection’s spell. She has to be lying. But then again, there’s been no one like Destruction on the Isle. She’s a new kind of incarnate. 

Destruction senses my conflicting thoughts and moves in closer, laughing. 

“Poor mother,” she says with a craft-curdling smile. “No idea what she walked into.”

I keep my hands raised in submission. “You can break the law.”

Des gives me an approving smile. “And without even saying my morning aspirations.”

War appears in my peripheral, slinking up behind Destruction. 

“You want me to cut her throat?” Destruction says, not taking her eyes from me. “Come a step closer, I dare you.”

War pauses. 

Destruction smiles, then leans into me. 

“You know,” she says, her voice a whisper. “Time made a very interesting prophecy.”

I hold her gaze. “I’m sure he did.”

Destruction removes her blades from my neck and pokes them into my stomach. I flinch away.

“It was about you.”

“Did he predict I would have to endure this tedious conversation?”

Destruction pokes her blades in further. “He predicted your imminent death.”

I swallow. I have never known Time to predict falsely. Except once, several moons ago, when he used Deception to deceive us and I killed my father. 

Destruction removes the blades. 

“We’ll have to postpone whatever this is,” she says, sheathing her blades behind her back. “Night is waiting.”

“You are insane.”

“I’m made differently,” Destruction says. “Made from cobwebs and human trash, while you all are made from gold.”

“Please,” I say, in no mood to feel sorry for her. “You are overpowered, and you know it.”

“Come,” Destruction says. “I will bring you to himself.”

Treachery. If Destruction really can destroy Protection’s spell, then this Extinction became far more dangerous than we anticipated. But I am wary of refusing her. She’s licking her teeth as if considering how to dissect me.

I place a comforting hand on War’s shoulder. Both her eyes are full yellow. I am impressed she held Savagery back so well, though I wouldn’t mind watching Savagery chase Destruction around this messy room. 

“Lead on,” I say. 

Destruction turns and walks toward the exit. 

“Stay here, Ren,” she instructs as she leaves.

“You got it,” Renegade mumbles, grabbing a drink off the table and sitting back on her small bed. 

I glance at Renegade, whose shoulders are slumped. She is the only one I will spare a pitying thought for. Trapped in this keep, and forced to be loyal to my derelict daughter. 

I wonder how long the loyalty spell will last.

Chapter Three

Betrayal

I follow Destruction down the hall, War and Chaos at my heels. War is fuming, Savagery snarling under her breath. Chaos tugs at their collar nervously. I try not to fidget, too. Destruction is leading us into the wraith den. 

I study her tiny shoulders. She looks so breakable. 

“You know,” I say as we round a corner. “My loyaltycraft has a tendency to backfire. Just look at your lord.”

Destruction stays quiet.

“Not to mention a loyalty hex is not nearly as powerful as my own touch,” I continue, wiggling my fingers. “Renegade will find a way around your loyalty hex just like Night did.”

We approach the massive doors to Night’s hall, carved with images of his original shade, the incarnate-like creature that tore Night’s sister to shreds, and then was banished to the human realm. 

Destruction palms the handle. “If Renegade is loyal to me for even a fraction of the time Night was loyal to Death, I will consider it worth it.” 

She opens the door, gesturing for me to enter. Treachery. It’s like talking to a younger me. 

I step past her. As I pass, I tap her shoulder. 

“I would start with this one,” I say, giving Chaos a look. They nod slightly.

“What do you mean?” Destruction snaps. I retract my hand quickly before she rips it off. I stride ahead of her, entering the hall. 

Night’s main hall isn’t nearly as large as Death’s, but it is lovelier. There is no ceiling so we can all take in the night sky and the cool air. The floor is unblemished pine, springy beneath my feet. A second-story floor wraps around the room with decks set aside for unsettled kinships to meet in. There is even one designated for me and my kinship, though I have yet to use it in this new era. 

We join the crowd. Hateful eyes fixate on me. I keep my chin up, but this much animosity is wreaking havoc on my founding, making me want to duck my head. Maybe beg their forgiveness until they welcome me back into the fold. Destruction enjoys my discomfort. I remember how my loyaltyspell caused the incarnates to give her that same look when she was born. Now it is the other way around. 

We approach Night’s dais. His elegant jasmine tree rests in a saltwater pool, the water lapping against the roots, branches cultivated to hang over his anorthosite seat. I spot Night’s current shade, who looks nothing like an incarnate, hiding amongst the branches, his needle-tooth grin the only visible part of his body.

The jasmine tree’s white petals are falling around some of the Isle’s most notorious unsettled: Evil, Nightmare, Deception, Envy, Darkness, Inhibition, Lust. 

My craft goes cold. Fear is there, too. Treachery. She left me for Night. I didn’t even notice that she was missing. Destruction must have broken her loyalty spell. Fear’s founding is a fear of Night, so it makes sense she would go crawling to him in submission.  

And standing beside her is…

“Fall,” I half-whisper. 

Fall is dressed for battle, her normal dress of leaves replaced with a funeral shroud, layers of steely black and a violet veil. Copper plates run down her arms and weave between her auburn hair. Her eyes are bright purple. She is in her most unsettled form, like the Fall I knew when we were together. 

I grind my teeth. 

“How many years did I ache for this version of you?” I say to her, using nightmarecraft to make my voice carry across the room. “And yet the first whiff of this fool and you give it all up for him.”

Fall’s purple eyes flash. “I was always with him, Betrayal.”

My eyes narrow. “You’re saying all the supplication and scraping to the settled was an act?”

Fall squares her jaw. I know that look. It’s the one she makes before she steps through the veil. 

“I had to hide my true nature,” she says, and the jasmine tree’s petals wilt behind her. 

My bones suddenly feel too big for my body. Like I’m an ogre, trying to climb out of my skin—a disgusting, unlovable ogre. It can’t be true…not after everything she said to me. All those years of her appeasing the settled and breaking my heart. 

I smirk. “And where is he, your mighty Lord of Darkness?”

“Watching,” says a whisper behind me. 

I turn, but no one is there. When I look back, Night is standing on the dais. 

He seems different. I have watched Night languish for years in the Kill Ring, fighting with nothing but a bored expression on his face. But now he looks…effervescent, like he wants to be here, eyes bright, clothing immaculate. He always wore beautiful tailored clothing, and tonight is no exception. Black velvet and diamond cuffs. Stardust highlighting his cheekbones and eyes. Silver chain around his neck. His own shadow is extra long, stretching all the way up the wall, into the night sky. 

“Of course, Fall is with us,” Night says, straightening his trim jacket. “And she’s not the only one.”

I glance around. All of these unsettled incarnates—is he saying he has alliances with all of them? 

“That’s difficult to wrap my head around,” I say.

Night smirks and the entire hall goes dark. A flood of glowing eyes surrounds me. The jasmine tree’s petals glow too.

“You think everyone just forgot me when you had me imprisoned?” a voice whispers in my ear. It’s Night's voice, but Night is still standing on the dais.

“I am the great hope for the unsettled,” Night says, and his shadow grows even bigger, stretching across the unveiled sky. “The reckoning for the settled. Loyalty to what I offer does not require your loyaltycraft.” 

I light a fire in my palm and gloom lessons.

“You truly have always been his ally?” I ask Fall. 

Fall’s sword, Cobweb, made of rusty spines, clinks against her armor. She must be gripping it. 

“Always,” she says. 

The fire in my palm flickers. “Why?” I ask. 

Fall turns toward Night, and my gut twists. Is she looking to him before speaking to me? What is happening? 

“I am unsettled, Betrayal,” Fall says, her purple eyes hypnotizing. “The Isle calls to me constantly, bidding me to wrap it in endless autumn. Night is the only one who recognized that pull. And now, I have craft hibernated long enough that my vision is a reality.”

The dying leaves. The headless Death specter. The ruin of Spring’s lands. Fall has been waiting for this? 

“I could have given that to you,” I say. “I only ever wanted you to be unsettled.”

A huge, harvest moon appears in the sky above us, bright enough to light the hall. It’s Fall’s moon. 

I can see her now, smiling sadly. 

“This plan was in motion long before I fell for you,” she says. “I have been hibernating my craft for centuries. You were a…distraction.”

My lip curls into a smile. “Is that what you call it?” 

Fall pulls back her shroud, giving me an unobscured view of her face. “When I was with you, I stopped craft hibernating. And I made the settled suspicious. I had to keep them in the dark until Night was free.” 

“So, you bided your time with Night’s imprisoner,” I say, my voice biting. “What does he think about that?”

Night says something, but I am not listening. All that insidious heartache, trying to convince myself it was good that Fall was choosing a brighter path. But she was dark and devious the entire time. I should have guessed. Fall and Night. The perfect pairing. After all, fall ushers in the long night. 

“I must say…I’m glad we ended things.”

Fall’s eyes soften. “I am sorry I deceived you, B. But now, you can join us. No more deception. It’s the unsettled’s turn to rise. We need you.”

“For what?” I ask, meeting Night's eyes. “A threesome?” Daggers, I sound like Kate when she’s cornered. 

“Night’s vision,” Fall says. “Planned in the underbelly of Death’s city. Day after day, night after night, hour after hour. Craft hibernating. Waiting.”

“And loathing you, of course,” Night says. 

I look around at the large group of dour eyes and my bravado cracks. This was not the Extinction I anticipated. I expected drinking myself into oblivion and ignoring wisecracks at my expense. 

What does Night intend with me? 

Night senses my hesitancy and grins. 

“Blindsided just like her father,” Night says. His shadow appears to be laughing. “Your face is a tonic—I could eat it with a spoon. We fooled you. We had you and your father running in circles. Time kept you both chasing the other with his false predictions. Fall kept you distracted with her love. I conspired with all the unsettled, while you were left in the dark. Because I detest you.”

Night’s hostility is palpable. At least with Death, I knew he never intended to kill me. In some ways, he was my protection. 

But now…

Night cinches the holster of his sword tighter. It brings back memories—he does this before every fight. 

I feel a wave of War’s peacecraft roll over me. But it only lasts a moment. Fear fights back, throwing off the peace, making my anxiety palpable. War can’t sustain it. Her craft is not as strong as Fear’s. Or a room full of unsettled feelings.  

Night cocks his head. “Where is your human pet? I thought she would be at my throat by now.”

“Perhaps she is in the foundation,” I say. “About to spring through the stone and desecrate your precious keep.”

Night smiles. “You know, for five hundred years, I was unable to plot against my son because of your loyalty spell. So, what did I do?”

“Plotted against me,” I say, trying to shake Fear’s anxiety in my gut. I need to be calm if I am to outmaneuver the Lord of Darkness. 

“I plotted against you incessantly,” Night says. “I turned Fall against you. I spread discord through your kinship.” He nods at Fear. “All the while dreaming of this moment.”

Night gives me a winning smile as he steps down from the dais. Everything about his movements seems relaxed and smooth, but there is something coiled just beneath the surface. Hungry. I notice an emerald charm on his finger. My ring, the one I crafted for Death to prevent me from making him loyal. Night must have…dug up Death’s body and claimed it as his own. 

I cringe. I can’t compel Night with loyaltycraft. This is dire. 

“I am declaring war on the settled,” Night says, addressing War. “Imagine how extraordinary your powers will be at my side.”

My heart stops. 

“Not satisfied with this hoard of unsettled?” I spit. “You try to poach my second?”

Night isn’t listening to me. I am a spidermouse he will squash in a moment. 

War gives Night a disdainful look. “I am loyal to my sibling,” she says, her voice firm. 

Night’s lip curls. He turns to Chaos. 

“Are you not tired of living in her shadow?” he says, circling Chaos. “I am told Betrayal uses you to throw mirths.” Night scoffs. “Such a waste.”

Something crosses Chaos’s face, and they shake their head as if warding it off. 

“I know Death always overlooked you for her,” Night says, continuing to circle. “That would never happen with me. You are a far superior incarnate than she. She had to steal craft to have merit. You have always been a genius in your own right.”

Chaos smiles. “It does feel nice to be appreciated.”

They wink at me, then push past Night, walking into the array of unsettled. 

“Quite the collection,” they say, studying Fall and Fear. “An awe-inspiring kinship. Death would be quite envious.” 

“I didn’t collect them,” Night says to Chaos, placing a hand behind his back. “They joined me. We are equals. You too, grandchild.”

I watch, tension gathering in my temples as Chaos continues to wander through the crowd. I notice in my peripheral that the unsettled are slowly circling us. Blocking the exit. 

“Chaos,” Night says. “Don’t let her squander your potential anymore.”

Chaos pauses next to Destruction and grins. “Maybe I should let you squander me.”

They reach out a hand and touch the back of Destruction’s head. She falls to the ground, eyes glossing over, a soft smile spreading across her face. 

“Ren,” she says. 

I exhale smoke in relief. She’s out. 

“Not an act of war,” Chaos says, lifting their hand innocently. “I made her deliriously happy.”

Night rolls his shoulders. He seems disappointed, but still just as calm as before. 

“That won’t be enough to stop all of us,” he says, touching his sword. “You are neutered, Betrayal. You can’t afford to lose your power.”

I smile. “I am more unhinged than you give me credit for,” I say and summon the most fire I have ever summoned. It explodes into the room, sizzling around the walls like a famished snake. Fire was always my specialty. It cackles mercilessly as it engulfs Night’s jasmine tree. Night’s shade flies out into the hall, snapping his teeth. 

“Betrayal,” War shouts. “Don’t!” 

But it’s too late. I have done it—an act of war in another’s main hall. My spellcraft belongs to Protection now. He is coming for me. 

“Let us go.” I spit fire at Night, ducking as his shade soars over my head. “Or I will burn this wooden box to the ground.”

My hexed fire may not be enough to stop Night’s shadows, but with Destruction trapped in a mindspell, Night won’t dare break Protection’s law to stop me. I hope. 

I can sense Night’s hesitation. He never liked fire. He is backing away from the flames, feigning calm, despite what I know is below the surface. He adores his keep. Crafted it with meticulous, obsessive attention. He doesn’t want it to burn. 

“What a waste for your temporary freedom,” Night says, waving his hand. “Let them go.”

“Are you sure?” Fall asks, standing in the midst of the flames. Fire has no effect on her. 

Night’s eyes scan the green flames that are cracking along the floorboards. “She broke the law,” he says, his shadows vanishing as the flames touch them. “Let Protection take her crafts. Then we will have a hunt.”

I turn sharply and head for the doors; War and Chaos close at my heels. 

“Let us out,” I order the scattering unsettled, all intent on avoiding my flames.

“Put your fire out first,” Night says. 

“Not until we are safely out of this hovel,” I snarl. The wall next to me catches fire, heating my face. 

Several unsettled incarnates block our exit. Evil has his hand on his blade. 

“Don’t,” Night says. “You would be a fool to give up your power for her. Open the doors.”

“Are you sure?” Evil asks. 

“Void,” Night swears, his calm persona cracking. “Just let her go. We will have her back in our hall in a moment without a drop of power to contend with.”

The last two unsettled guarding the door pull back, and I push through the doors, green flames around me, the smell of burning cedar in the air. I make a fire-free path for War and Chaos, and we run down the halls, bursting out of the keep into cold, smoke-free air. I hurry along the cliffside, the fear of pursuit hot in my limbs. I am tempted to let Night’s keep burn to the ground, but I don’t want any unintended harm coming to Fall, betrayer that she is. 

I curl my fingers into a fist and the fire in Night’s keep extinguishes.

We race down the trail, me using lightning to quicken mine and Chaos’s feet. War harnesses Savagery for her speed. 

Elixir bounds toward us, and I throw Chaos onto his back with stonecraft, War leaping up after them. I swing on last. 

“Get us out of here,” I say, and Elixir takes off, his heartbeat thumping in my ears. 

I look back. Fall’s harvest moon is obscured by noxious blue-green smoke pouring from Night’s keep. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” War hisses in my ear. “We need your craft now more than ever.”

And risk Night figuring out how to convince you to join his side? I squeeze Elixir’s fur. Not a chance. 

“You are going to lose everything,” Chaos says, sounding dumbfounded. 

“We have to at least get back to Sequester,” War says. “Night won’t be able to make good on his hunt promise if you are behind its walls.”

I don’t answer. Just wipe tears away with the back of my hand. What a mess this is. I couldn’t bear the thought of Night taking War and Chaos. Not after he had taken Fall. And now I will lose my craft for it. 

I could escape into the human world, like Kate did when she broke the law. But then Chaos or War would be held responsible for my crime. 

It takes Protection’s sentinels time to find their prey, but they are still faster than Protection, who created the sentinels to act on his behalf. We make it all the way to Crag's Point before the sentinel shows up. It spooks Elixir, his back haunches lowering. The sentinel is in a floating boat, crossing the land like it's water, a lantern hanging on his back, causing the cloaked sentinel to glow pale blue. 

“Betrayal Incarnate,” the sentinel calls, “first of her kind, daughter of Death, the deceased. You have broken the law of the Isle and now must pay with your craft.”

I climb off Elixir, my hand twitching. The sentinel doesn’t have eyes. Just a blue ribbon around his skull. I try to look away, but I am drawn to him. 

My fingers touch Incisor. 

“Anarchy,” Chaos hisses. 

I feel myself drawing Incisor against my will, holding up my other hand, palm skyward. Just one cut and all my craft will pour out of me onto the dirt. I will become one of the fallen.

I shut my eyes. I’m not giving up my craft without a fight. If Destruction can do it, so can I. 

I steady my body, focusing inward. Tuning into a craft that is mine—because of her. I force myself to imagine her. Her swagger. Her asinine jokes. Her annoying habit of getting into my personal space. Following me, forcing me to be open in ways I have never been open with anyone else. 

Kate. 

The destruction inside me awakens. 

I picture her smiling. Picture pushing her to the ground because I wanted to touch her. Grabbing the back of her shirt. The way her face looked as she told me she was staying with Jax in Winter’s keep. Her indifferent expression.

Her kissing me like she didn’t need to breathe. 

Her fucking me silly inside the ruin. 

Kate. 

It isn’t enough. The sentinel still approaches, demanding his price. 

Kate. 

I let myself completely immerse in memories of her. Her smell. Her laugh. Her taste. 

Where are you?

In the darkness of my shut eyes, something shifts. I see hazy lights. An empty street. Snow.

Kate is walking away from me, hands in her pockets, shoulders slumped. 

Kate. 

She looks over her shoulder as though she hears me, and I see her eyes. Her soft, human eyes. 

She’s alive. 

I open my own eyes and pull. 

Destructioncraft thuds beneath my skin, like a hole tugging me to the bottom. I drop Incisor and yank with every fiber of my being. I pull Kate’s power like it's a lifeline, directing the entire force of her destructioncraft at the sentinel. My hands hover close to each other, almost touching, but not quite. 

The sentinel quivers, body seeming to blend with the air. I push my hands out. I may be yelling. My hair is standing on end. There is a sound—like fabric ripping. 

Then, he vanishes. 

I fall forward onto my knees. I am fainting, I think, my mind an exhausted, empty cup. I feel War catching me. Then, even that sensation fades. 

I only have one thought as I slip into oblivion. 

She’s safe.

Thanks for reading!

Book Three will release in December 2026

This is a work of fiction. All the events, characters, organizations, etc. in this novel are either fictitious or products of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. 

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All rights reserved. All editions and subsequent editions belong to the author. Copyright by Rowan Joy