Chapter 1

My name is Kael. I'm twenty-two, I've got a bad habit of grinding my teeth when I'm angry, and I'm apparently the last hope for a world full of gods who've forgotten what justice looks like. No pressure.

The sky above Jinjitsu was the color of bruised fruit that afternoon, which felt appropriate. I stood on a ridge overlooking the capital city, where Riven's palace sat like a black tooth in the mouth of the landscape. Behind me, the rebel camp hummed with quiet activity—people sharpening weapons, whispering plans, trying not to think about what came next.

"You're grinding your teeth again."

I turned. Liora stood there with her arms crossed, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She was our strategist, which meant she spent most of her time pointing out everything I was doing wrong.

"I'm not grinding," I said. My jaw ached.

"You're definitely grinding. Also, you've been staring at that palace for twenty minutes. It's not going to explode just because you glare at it."

"It might."

"It won't." She stepped up beside me, her practical armor creaking. "But if you want it to, we need a better plan than 'glare menacingly.'"

I let out a breath. "I know. I just—"

"You just want to charge in and punch Riven in his perfectly sculpted evil face. I get it. But charging gets people killed. And we don't have people to spare."

She wasn't wrong. Our rebellion numbered maybe two hundred, against Riven's entire army. Except... Riven had killed his own army. That was the part nobody wanted to talk about.

Three days ago, I'd watched him do it. Watched him stand on the training grounds and cut down his own soldiers like they were practice dummies. My parents had tried to stop him. They'd been the first to fall.

I'd run. I hated that part of the story, but running was what saved me. That, and the strange heat that had bloomed in my chest when my father fell. A heat that was still there, right now, pulsing like a second heartbeat.

"Kael."

Eron's voice was low and gravelly, the sound of a man who'd spent fifty years shouting orders across battlefields. He emerged from the treeline with a bundle of supplies slung over one shoulder. His scars caught the fading light.

"You look like you're about to do something stupid," he said.

"I'm just standing here."

"Standing here is the first step to doing something stupid. I've seen it before."

Liora snorted. "He's not wrong."

I turned away from the palace. "Fine. What's the plan, then? We can't just hide in the forest forever."

Eron dropped the supplies at my feet. "We don't hide. We train. You've got something inside you, boy. I saw it when your parents fell. That light in your eyes."

"I don't know what that was."

"Nobody does. But we're going to find out." He pointed a thick finger at me. "Because if Riven has something similar—and I suspect he does—you're going to need to match it."

I thought about the heat. The way the world had gone red for a second. The way my hands had crackled with something that wasn't quite lightning.

"And if I can't control it?"

"Then we're all dead," Liora said cheerfully. "No pressure."

Eron shot her a look. "You'll control it. You're stubborn. That's half the battle."

"What's the other half?"

"Not dying."

That night, I sat by the fire and watched the flames dance. Liora was sketching something on a scrap of parchment—probably a map of the palace's weak points. Eron was sharpening a blade that didn't need sharpening.

"Tell me about my parents," I said.

They both went quiet. The fire popped.

"Your father," Eron said finally, "was the bravest man I ever knew. He stood up to Riven when nobody else would. And your mother... she had a laugh that could shake the stars."

"She also once threw a shoe at Riven during a council meeting," Liora added. "It hit him right in the forehead. He pretended it didn't happen."

I almost smiled. "I wish I could remember that."

"You were young. But you've got her fire." Eron met my eyes. "And his stubbornness. That's a dangerous combination."

"Is that a compliment?"

"It's a warning."

I looked down at my hands. The heat pulsed faintly, waiting. "What if I can't do this?"

"Then we find another way." Liora set down her sketch. "But I don't think that's going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Because you're still grinding your teeth." She smiled. "And because I saw that light too. It wasn't just anger. It was something more."

I wanted to believe her. But belief felt like a luxury when the ruler of the gods was probably planning his next massacre.

"Get some sleep," Eron said. "Tomorrow, we start training. And after that... well. We'll see how far your power goes."

I lay down on the hard ground, staring up at the stars. Somewhere in that palace, Riven was probably laughing. But I'd show him. I'd show him what happens when you push someone too far.

The heat in my chest pulsed once, twice. Like a promise.

I didn't sleep. But I didn't need to. Because for the first time in three days, I had something I didn't have before.

I had a plan.

And I had power I didn't understand, waiting to be unleashed.

Tomorrow, we'd find out exactly what I could do. And Riven would learn that killing my parents was the biggest mistake he ever made.

The fire crackled. The rebels whispered. And somewhere in the dark, a voice that sounded like my father's said, "That's my boy."

Or maybe it was just the wind.

Either way, I was ready.