Chapter One

Long ago, God made a decision. He divided the world into two parts.

On one side, three countries formed: Amberleaf, Coral Vale, and Corven. The decision itself did something else, too. It made God's own energy, called anima, leak out. It spread to every corner of the world.

In parts of that world, Amberleaf and Coral Vale had fought for generations. The fight was always over the same thing: a hidden garden. Legend said it was guarded by a giant spider beast. Whoever claimed the garden would claim what waited inside it. A living weapon, one that could end the war outright.

Mara Wells was a commander. She had one mission: take the area and hold it.

The battle lasted two days. On the second day, she led a few Riser to victory.

This is where the story begins. The destiny of this world will change in the future.

"Commander. All clear," Robert said.

Mara didn't look up right away. "Sure about that?"

"Yes."

"Last time you were sure, too." She finally looked at him. "Right before you missed something."

Robert hesitated. "There's one thing left. We didn't check that small cave."

Mara shook her head, slow, jaw tight.

"Tell everyone to hold position," she said. "I'll check it myself."

Mara stepped inside.

Vines hung down from the cave mouth, thick with moss, brushing the top of her head. The walls curved up and away from her, dark, then darker, until the light behind her couldn't reach them at all.

Ahead, stone steps climbed up through the gloom. Moss grew thick between the cracks, green even in the dim light. Ferns pushed out from the rock on either side. At the top of the steps, mist hung pale and bright. Through it, she could just make out the shape of a bare tree, its branches black against the glow.

Below the steps, water pooled flat and still. It caught the light and threw it back, soft and blue-green, like something under the surface was glowing on its own. Near the edge of the water, small lanterns sat low among the rocks, their flames tiny and orange, barely enough to see by.

Mara stood there a moment, listening. Then she started up the steps.

Her foot caught on something. She went down hard, one knee cracking against stone.

"Oh, come on."

She pushed herself up and looked back. A bone lay half buried near the step, pale against the dark ground. Next to it, a small pouch.

She picked it up and opened it.

Inside was a scroll, rolled tight, and a ring. The ring was bone, or something like bone, thin curved pieces reaching up and out from a narrow base, like legs. Like a spider's legs, bent and joined at the top.

"This is interesting." She slid the scroll into the pouch, then swept everything else in behind it.

Mara turned the ring once in her hand. Then she closed the pouch and went back outside.

The Riser stood waiting where she'd left them.

"Let's go home," she said. "Take everything we need."

"Yes, Commander." All of them said it together, no question in it at all.

They rode for the rest of the day, and by the time Eryndor came into view, the sky had turned gold behind it.

A wooden arch marked the entrance, old beams crossed above the street. Banners hung between them, red and yellow, snapping soft in the wind. Past the arch, the road ran straight down through the village. Timber houses packed in tight on both sides, upper floors leaning out over the street like they were trying to meet in the middle. Shop stalls lined the ground floors, awnings out. Lanterns already burned beneath them, even though the sun hadn't gone down yet.

The street was full. People moved through it in both directions, crowded shoulder to shoulder, more of them than Mara had seen in one place in a long time.

At the far end, past all the rooftops, Riser Tower rose up pale and tall, its towers capped in red. It stood over the whole village like it was watching the street below.

Mara rode in through the arch, the Riser behind her, and the crowd began to part.

Inside, the hall opened up under high wooden beams, dark with smoke and age. Torches burned along the stone walls, throwing more shadow than light. A chandelier hung low over the center of the room, its candles shifting with every draft that came through the door. Banners dropped from the balcony rail above, scorched at the edges, moving slow whenever the air moved.

Noise filled the place before she was even fully inside it. Laughter came from somewhere near the fire, loud and rough, mugs knocking together. A woman moved between the tables with a tray, drinks sliding as she went, not spilling a drop.

Long tables ran down both sides of the hall, packed with Riser and villagers alike. The Riser's Table sat apart from the rest, closer to the fire, a candle already burning at its edge, wax pooling on the wood beneath it.

Leonard was there when she reached it.

Leonard poured for both of them before she asked. "So. Tell me about the mission."

"Which one. The one where we won, or the one where I ate dirt on some stairs."

"Start with the winning one."

Mara took a long drink, said nothing right away. "Two days. Held the line, pushed through on the second. Fewer losses than I expected."

"Not a number."

"Good enough one." She set the mug down harder than she meant to. "Ask me tomorrow for the real one. Tonight I'm eating."

Leonard let it go. He tore off a piece of bread and didn't eat it. Just turned it in his fingers. "Fine. The stairs, then."

That pulled a laugh out of her, short and real. "There's a cave. Robert missed it on the first sweep. Obviously."

"Obviously."

"Went in alone. Found some old bones. A pouch." She gave her cup a quarter turn on the table, eyes on it instead of him. "A ring. A scroll. Neither one makes sense yet."

"Didn't tell the others that."

"Didn't tell the others anything." She looked up at him. "Telling you."

Leonard dipped his chin and left it there.

Mara broke off a piece of bread without looking at it. "Don't make it a thing."

"Wasn't going to."

"You were thinking about it."

"A little."

The corner of her mouth moved, gone as fast as it came. She ate. Neither of them said anything else for a while, and it didn't need filling.

Leonard set his mug down. "Do you still have nightmares?"

Mara took her time answering, gaze somewhere past him, not on him. "Bad dream last night. That's all."

"Same one?"

She didn't answer that one.

"Mara."

"I can handle it." The words came out sharper than she meant. She eased her voice back down. "I always do."

Leonard let it drop. He knew that tone by now.

Mara went quiet. Her eyes stayed on the fire, but she wasn't really looking at it. Something behind them had gone somewhere else.

The fire in front of her blurred, then it was something else entirely.

A small house. Wood walls, gaps wide enough to let the cold through. One candle burned low by the door, throwing more shadow than light.

A girl knelt in the middle of the room, wrists bound behind her. The chain was wound so tight the skin underneath had gone white.

It ran taut to an iron ring bolted into the floor.

A growl came out of her own throat, low and wrong, nothing like her voice.

A voice cracked through the growl. "Come quickly!"

Footsteps hit the doorway, and two figures ducked under the low frame. An old man came first, hood pushed back, a carved staff gripped in one hand. A younger man followed close behind, quiet, watching.

A woman by the wall pressed both hands together. "Please. Save her."

The man who'd called them stood near the chain, eyes on the girl. "Nothing else would hold her."

The old man stepped forward, staff planted with each step. Master Baldric.

"How long has she been like this?"

"Since last evening."

The girl growled again as he came closer, the sound rougher now, closer to something that wasn't a voice at all.

Master Baldric didn't stop. "Come to me."

Her eyes cut up to him, sharp, tracking every step he took.

"Come to me."

"There's nothing wrong with her," the man said. "We looked everywhere."

Days passed with no answer. The family started to believe the house itself was haunted.

Baldric wasn't so sure. He watched the girl a long while before he spoke.

"She isn't simply possessed." His eyes stayed on her, not on the rest of them. "Her spirit has the ability to Spirit Walk. Leave the body behind."

No one said anything.

"Her consciousness has wandered into a supernatural dimension. Somewhere terrifying, by the look of her." His eyes moved to the chain. "And while she's out there, that body sits empty. Dangerous spirits are trying to use it as a vessel."

Baldric reached into his pouch. His hand didn't shake. He muttered under his breath. None of them understood the words.

The dust caught the candlelight when he drew it out, silver, fine as ash. He threw it, and it hung in the air a moment before it settled on her.

"Leave this innocent child."

Her back arched. The scream that tore out of her filled the room, raw and loud enough to shake the walls. It cut off all at once. Her body dropped, hard, against the floor.

Something black rose out of her chest. It hung there a second, shapeless. Then it shot up and out through the gap in the wall.

The room went still. Just the candle, burning low.

The girl's eyes opened, slow. She looked around at the walls, at the faces.

"Mommy?" Her voice came out small, cracked. "What happened?"

The scream was still echoing when Leonard's voice cut through it.

"Mara."

She came back fast. The tavern was solid around her again, noise and heat rushing back in. The mug was still in her hand.

Leonard was watching her, waiting.

"I'm tired," she said. "I want to go home. Sleep."

He didn't argue. Just picked up his mug and drank.

The walk back took longer than it should have. Her legs still ached from the ride.

The building sat near the edge of the village, stone at the base, timber built up over it. A wooden stairway ran along the outside wall, up to her door.

She took the steps slow, one hand on the rail. Window boxes lined every landing, flowers closed up for the night.

Her room waited at the top. Small. Rented. Hers only because nobody else wanted it up that high.

She lived alone. Most nights, that suited her fine. Tonight she noticed how loud her own footsteps sounded on the stairs.

She washed the day off. The water ran cold enough to make her hiss through her teeth.

After, she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the pouch onto her lap. She took out the ring first, then the scroll. Both went flat on the blanket in front of her.

She turned the ring over once, then let it rest on her palm.

She slid the ring onto her finger.

The legs moved on their own, thin and bone-pale, curling in tight around her finger until the tips locked together at the top.

A strange feeling ran up her hand, cold and unfamiliar. She held still until it passed.

She reached for the scroll again, unrolled it under the candle. Most of the words meant nothing to her, shapes she couldn't place.

But pieces came through. Enough to understand: the ring could trap a person, wrap them tight in something like a web. Some kind of spell tied to it.

Useful enough in the field, she thought.

Mara fell asleep with the ring still on her finger.

Her spirit slipped free of her body. It fell through the ring and came out somewhere else entirely.

The place didn't look like anywhere she'd been. Red leaves hung low overhead, thick as vines. A waterfall dropped white into a still pool below. Flowers covered the rock walls on either side, deep red, wet with mist.

The air smelled sweet, almost too sweet. It caught in the back of her throat.

Something moved fast through the leaves, gone before she could turn all the way toward it.

She didn't know where she was.

Then it stepped out from behind the trees.

Six eyes opened across a face shaped like an open flower, petals pulled back to show them. Eight legs, thin and long, held the whole thing up off the ground.

Mara tried to run. Her legs wouldn't move, heavy like they belonged to someone else.

Its legs shot forward and closed around her.

It pulled. Something inside her chest went thin and stretched, like something was drawing it out through her skin.

She couldn't fight it. Her eyes wouldn't even close.

A knock hit the door, and a woman's voice came with it.

"Mara, wake up. There's an urgent message for you."

Her eyes opened. For a second she just lay there, catching her breath.

What the hell was that dream, she thought.

Her whole body ached, like she hadn't slept at all.

"Thank you, Daisy," she said. "Put it on the table."

A few minutes later, she came out dressed for the day.

The red cloak dropped straight to her ankles, gold trim catching what light came window. A white blouse underneath, sleeves loose at the wrist, tucked into a laced brown corset. Shorts beneath that, thigh-high boots laced tight to the knee. Her staff stayed by the door, untouched for now.

She went down the stairs, one hand on the rail.

"Daisy, don't forget to pick up my item from the market tomorrow."

The letter already sat on the table. She broke the seal and read it standing up.

The Riser Council.

"Hmm," she said, more to herself than anyone. "What's going on."

This must be interesting, she thought.

Daisy looked over from the stove. "You want your breakfast?"

Mara held the letter out instead of answering.

Daisy read a few lines, then looked up at her.

"Because of this," Mara said, tapping the paper, "guess I'm fasting today."

The morning air was cool, carrying the smell of fresh bread and wet stone.

Mara walked down through the market street. Stalls lined both sides, awnings out, lanterns still burning from the night before. Barrels of vegetables sat outside every door. Vines hung down off the balconies above, catching the early light.

Someone called out from behind a counter. "Morning, Mara."

"Morning," she said, not slowing down.

"How's Angelina doing?"

"She's fine."

She kept walking.

The street opened onto a wide square. The Council building rose up ahead, pale stone, spires cutting into the sky.

Riser filed up the front steps in twos and threes, robes dark, staffs in hand. More of them than she'd expected for an ordinary morning.

Please, not a difficult mission today, she thought. Not that wishing ever helped.

Something important was happening. She could feel it before she even reached the doors.