Moans and soft crying of the victims of the Phantom War filled the room as healers moved from patient to patient. Azure curtains hung on wooden poles between the patients to give a modicum of privacy. The royal infirmary housed two dozen beds. She turned her face toward the door where Grei would emerge. It was her purpose.īut she feared the coming of the Whisper Prince. A Ringblade was trained for these things.
She had made love to men, spending her body upon them, only to cut their throats an hour later while they lay dreaming. With borrowed clothes, a smile, and a handful of lies, she had worn identities like hats, slipping among enemies who would have quickly knifed her if they’d but known the truth. She’d fought warriors to the bloody end with her weapons, her wits, and her training. Her stomach twisted like a knotted rope.Īs a Ringblade, she had faced duty and death without flinching. She could feel him on her tongue as he approached, a light tingle, and she could taste him, the coppery tang of blood. Ree was going to betray the man who’d saved the empire. Explore the SunLit archives at /sunlit.Ģ020 Colorado Authors League finalist for Fantasy/Science Fiction. Each week, The Colorado Sun and Colorado Humanities & Center For The Book feature an excerpt from a Colorado book and an interview with the author.
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