Star of Book Three, Chapter 1 – Embers in the Wind

The sky over Nareth burned red.

From the shattered mountaintop of Veilspire, Mary stood with the second fragment of the Codex clutched tightly in her gloved hand. The wind whipped her cloak around her ankles as a dull, unnatural hum pulsed from the relic, its magic flickering like the final heartbeat of a dying star. It had been days since they escaped the Path of Echoes. Days since the horrors of their pasts tried to unmake them. And now, the final journey began—toward the last fragment, and with it, the endgame of everything they had fought for.

Behind her, Lela adjusted the straps of her armor, her face hard and silent. Loosie crouched at the edge of the cliff, staring into the valley below where fires blinked in clusters like a dying constellation—remnants of the border towns succumbing to war and sorcery.

"The war's spreading faster than expected," Loosie muttered, rising to her feet. "The northern alliance fell last night. That was Rakar's banner burning at the citadel."

Mary didn't look away from the horizon. "Then we're running out of time."

"The Codex fragment," Lela asked, finally speaking. "Is it speaking to you yet?"

Mary frowned. The first fragment had granted her visions—riddles, flashes of an ancient civilization, and a disembodied voice that sometimes whispered guidance through dreams. But this one? It was different. Silent. Cold. Watching.

"No. It's quiet." Mary slipped it into the leather satchel at her side. "But that worries me more than if it screamed."

The wind shifted suddenly, carrying with it the scent of smoke, ash, and something else—something metallic and wet. Blood.

Loosie drew her twin daggers instinctively. "We're not alone."

From the forest that coiled around the cliffs below, shadows stirred. At first, it seemed like the wind playing tricks again—but Mary knew better. She felt it in her bones.

Figures emerged. Dark-robed. Dozens of them. They moved silently, faces hidden by featureless masks of white stone, hands clasped around staves of ebony twisted like scorched vines.

Lela cursed under her breath. "The Dread Priory. They've found us."

The cult had been hunting them since Book One, ever since Mary uncovered the truth of the Codex—that it was not just a source of power, but a map, a prison, and a prophecy. The Priory believed the Codex fragments were the keys to releasing an ancient entity sealed beyond the veil of reality. Mary and her companions believed otherwise: that the Codex had to remain broken, hidden, scattered to prevent exactly that.

"We can't fight them here," Mary said, drawing her sword. "They'll overwhelm us."

"Then what?" Loosie snapped, eyes darting for an escape.

"We jump," Mary said, already moving. She darted toward the lower edge of the ridge where a narrow path twisted down the mountain. "Follow me—now!"

The three took off in a blur, stones kicking from their boots as they ran. Arrows sliced through the air behind them, one grazing Lela's shoulder, but she didn't falter. The Priory's chants followed them, a hollow, rhythmic drone that made Mary's skin crawl. Magic crackled in the air—wild, unstable—and the shadows lengthened unnaturally across the path.

They reached the halfway ledge just as the ground erupted behind them, a bolt of void-magic striking where they'd stood seconds before. Mary stumbled but caught herself against a broken stone pillar.

"We're cut off!" Loosie shouted, pointing down.

Below, a second group of robed figures emerged, climbing fast, their staves glowing with crimson runes.

Mary looked between the two advancing forces. Her mind raced.

Lela stepped beside her, blood dripping from her wounded arm. "What are you thinking?"

Mary gritted her teeth. "I'm thinking we make our own path."

She raised the Codex fragment high. It pulsed once—deep and sharp, like a heartbeat in the stone—and a faint shimmer appeared before them: a narrow doorway formed of shifting blue light, barely large enough for one person.

"A blink gate?" Loosie gasped. "We could end up anywhere."

"Anywhere that's not here," Mary replied.

The chanting was louder now, closer. A bolt of black flame struck the rocks nearby, sending debris flying. There was no time left.

Mary pushed through first. The doorway swallowed her whole in an instant.

Lela and Loosie followed, and the veil snapped shut behind them—just as the first of the Priory reached the ledge and let loose a scream of frustration.

Then silence.

The world Mary fell into was…wrong.

She hit the ground hard, rolling to break the fall. The air was thick with sulfur. The sky above was not a sky at all, but a swirling storm of red and black. Cracks of white lightning danced across the void.

"Where are we?" Lela asked as she landed next to Mary.

Loosie came last, tumbling through and swearing loudly. "Please tell me we didn't just jump into hell."

Mary stood slowly, brushing herself off. The land around them was barren, pockmarked with glass-like craters and scorched earth. A tree twisted in the distance, its branches covered not in leaves but what looked like feathers of obsidian.

"No," Mary said. "Not hell. Not exactly. We're in the Bleeding Expanse."

Lela's expression darkened. "The dead realm?"

"It borders the living world, like a reflection." Mary looked at the fragment in her bag. It was glowing now—alive. "This is where the last piece is. I'm sure of it."

Loosie let out a dry laugh. "Well, that's just great. We survived warlocks, forest spirits, a near-death vision quest, and now we're hunting magical jigsaw puzzles in the land of the damned."

Mary smiled despite everything. "You make it sound so easy."

But her smile faded quickly. The Expanse was more than just a graveyard of broken magic. It was a memory—a place where reality fractured and time bled into itself. They'd need to be careful. They'd need to be smarter than ever.

And they'd need to be fast. Because the Priory wasn't done chasing them. And somewhere in this twisted world of echoes and shadows, the final fragment waited—along with whatever ancient force had been bound with it.

Mary looked to the horizon. A black citadel stood in the distance, its spires piercing the false sky like knives.

"Let's go," she said.

And so Book Three began.