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    The Queen of Blood: Book One of The Queens of Renthia
    The Queen of Blood: Book One of The Queens of Renthia
    The Queen of Blood: Book One of The Queens of Renthia
    Ebook479 pages7 hours

    The Queen of Blood: Book One of The Queens of Renthia

    By Sarah Beth Durst

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    Set in the magical world of Renthia, The Queen of Blood is Sarah Beth Durst’s ambitious entry into adult epic fantasy. With the danger of Peter Brett’s The Warded Man, heart of Naomi Novik’s Uprooted, and lyricism of Patrick Rothfuss’ The Name of the Wind, this is the first chapter in a series destined to be a classic.

    Everything has a spirit: the willow tree with leaves that kiss the pond, the stream that feeds the river, the wind that exhales fresh snow . . .

    But the spirits that reside within this land want to rid it of all humans. One woman stands between these malevolent spirits and the end of humankind: the queen. She alone has the magical power to prevent the spirits from destroying every man, woman, and child. But queens are still just human, and no matter how strong or good, the threat of danger always looms.

    With the position so precarious, young women are chosen to train as heirs. Daleina, a seemingly quiet academy student, is under no illusions as to her claim to the throne, but simply wants to right the wrongs that have befallen the land. Ven, a disgraced champion, has spent his exile secretly fighting against the growing number of spirit attacks. Joining forces, these daring partners embark on a treacherous quest to find the source of the spirits’ restlessness—a journey that will test their courage and trust, and force them to stand against both enemies and friends to save their land . . .  before it’s bathed in blood.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateSep 20, 2016
    ISBN9780062413369
    Author

    Sarah Beth Durst

    Sarah Beth Durst is the author of fantasy novels for children, teens, and adults. Winner of the Mythopoeic Award and an ALA Alex Award and thrice nominated for the Andre Norton Nebula Award for Middle Grade and Young Adult Fiction, she lives in New York. Visit her at sarahbethdurst.com or on Twitter: @sarahbethdurst.

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    Reviews for The Queen of Blood

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    • 4/5
      The Queen of Blood is a strong start to a new fantasy series. Humanity exists in a careful balance with the bloodthirsty nature spirits, who compelled by their twin desires to create and destroy. Only a human queen gifted with power is able to hold them in balance. Daliena, a young woman with some ability to control the spirits, is determined to do what she can to protect humanity from the devastation periodically unleashed by capricious spirits. Ven is a disgraced champion who has been roaming the wilderness between villages, fighting an increasing number of spirit attacks. With the queen possibly loosing control over the spirits, Daliena and Ven will have to combine forces.One of The Queen of Blood‘s strongest assets is pacing. The story practically zips along, propelled by a constant and building tension. From an action packed beginning, to slower character moments, The Queen of Blood kept me reading the entire way through.While The Queen of Blood isn’t being marketed as YA, it has elements that could make it any easy cross over. For most of the story, Daliena is a teenager or young girl. While the narrative contains POVs of a number of different characters (mostly Daliena and Ven), I think she’s the clear protagonist of the story. The book also flirts with some common YA tropes – for instance, Daliena goes to a magical school to learn spirit binding – but it ultimately manages to make its own story out of these familiar elements.One of the most notable things about The Queen of Blood is that Daliena is not particularly special. She’s not the strongest or smartest student in the room. She’s not any kind of chosen one. She’s merely an extremely hard worker who will keep pushing herself long after everyone else has given up. I also appreciated that while she had a romance subplot, it wasn’t the focus of attention (and Ven wasn’t her love interest, thank goodness).The Queen of Blood also had friendships between its female characters, and never had Daliena go down the Not Like Other Girls route. Merecot in particular stood out to me. It would have been so easy for her to be Mean Girl stereotype – the backstabbing queen bee concerned about nothing but herself. While Merecot highly driven and sometimes contemptuous of the other students, she had enough ambiguities to prevent her from easily slotting into the character type. I hope to see more of her in the sequels.I had some worries as to how the nature spirit based world building would come across. It seemed like things could easily be ill thought out or perhaps too twee. But as it turned out, the spirits and the world felt entirely fitting and believable. And the architecture of the cities, towns and villages reflects the ability to command nature spirits – most human settlement is suspended or within trees.The Queen of Blood was one of the most enjoyable fantasy books I’ve read in a while, and I fully plan on reading the sequels.Originally posted on The Illustrated Page.
    • 3/5
      Fantasy world with various kingdoms, rulers, a version of a medieval type society: (bakers, seamstresses, carvers, etc.) and then the magic world: "spirits" who manifest themselves as earth, fire, water, air, etc. Main character is Daleina, a young girl from outside the capital of Aratay, but travels there to go into training to be one of the "heirs", specially chosen young women who manifest a strong ability to "speak" to the spirits and control them. The entire world of this novel centers on the tension between the spirits -who are everywhere- and their need to both create and destroy. What they long to destroy most are humans. But the reigning Queen (the one heir who rises above all others) can suppress/control/direct them to provide ever growing tree canopies for the human dwellers, productive earth, water, etc. This book one centers on the emerging corruption - as always, she thinks she doing it for the good of her people- of the current Queen Fara, who's made a devil's bargain with the "owl woman", a spirit who negotiates limited acts of destruction in order to provide the queen with more power. Our heroine's mentor, a skilled champion named Ven, eventually discovers this. By the novel's end, Daleina becomes the new queen, "the Queen of Blood" - because of a climactic spirits v.s. heirs ceremony. Meh. Definitely a LOT of "telling" by the author (Queen Fara's musings, Ven's thoughts, Daleina's worries and thoughts,etc) lots of skirmishes, visits to family back home, heir academy training interactions with Daleina & other aspiring queens, etc etc.... as a result, lots of slooow parts. Spirits were strange and interesting? It also weighs in at over 350 pages, but teen readers who adore stories of fairies, warriors, queens and fanciful creatures/worlds will probably cheer on Daleina and her companions.
    • 4/5
      4.5/5!

      I've had my eye on this novel for a while. I really liked the premise of it, which reminded me a lot of the Queen of the Tearling series. I really like fantasy stories with strong female leads and this one showed a lot of promise.

      Everything has a spirit, be it the wind or the stream or even a beautiful willow tree. But these spirits are malicious and they have only one desire: ridding the land of all humans. There is only one woman who can control these malevolent spirits, and it is the Queen. She alone has the power to bind the spirits and prevent them from harming or killing all of mankind. But even the queen is only human, and the threat of danger is ever-present. To protect the queen and safeguard the future of humanity, young women are chosen to train as heirs to the throne. These are women who are powerful, confident, and have an affinity for controlling the spirits. Daleina, is a quiet academy student, who simply wants to protect the weak - even as she knows she has no real claim to the throne. Ven is a disgraced Champion who has spent his time in exile fighting against the growing spirit attacks on villages in the outskirts. When these two join forces, they embark on a dangerous quest to find the source of the attacks. It is a journey that will test their courage and loyalty, as they make difficult decisions to protect their home... before it's bathed in blood.

      I really enjoyed this book. No, seriously, I really loved it. I sat down in a really uncomfortable part of my bed, thinking I would only read a chapter or two and when I next looked up, the whole day had gone and I was pretty much done the novel. That's how good it was. I don't think I've had a reaction like this since Queen of the Tearling! If you liked that series, then this is definitely a novel for you!

      I thought the magic system with these spirits and powers was really well developed and quite cool! It was out of the ordinary realm of fantasy novels, which made me pay more attention to it. The author gave the right amount of detail in every instance; I never felt the need to skim because it was too much information, and I also never felt like it was lacking! I loved the richness of the world this author created because it truly was unique!

      Daleina is an awesome character. She isn't amazing at anything; she works hard to achieve her goals, and I really admire that. I've started to get bored of the stereotypical badass heroine - Daleina is definitely not stereotypical. She has her doubts and anxieties and she isn't the best at anything. What makes her special is her determination and drive, that she is inherently good and doesn't let difficulties get her down. In short, she is a character you can root for!

      There were some instances where the plot sped up to cover a number of years. We cover pretty much all of Daleina's schooling through a series of time jumps. I wasn't a big fan of this as I felt that the transitions were a little choppy, but I can understand why the author decided to get through that in order to get to the really juicy parts of the story. I didn't mind too much, especially as the rest of the plot were worth it!

      I liked how this story was not just about magic, but also survival and the fear of losing power and authority. I liked that the main character was someone who didn't really have ambition, and was someone you truly felt had her heart in the right place. I liked the supporting characters, even though they didn't really figure into the story too much. There were times when I wish the other characters had had more of a presence in the story instead of just going away but I'm hoping that the author will bring them back in some form in the second novel.

      Overall, this book really impressed me with its intricate details and unique plot! I loved the main character, the action, and the overall power struggle. I cannot wait for the second book in this series! If you liked Queen of the Tearling, then definitely give this one a go!
    • 4/5
      Her control of the ubiquitous and dangerous spirits manifested when Dalaina's village was attacked, but at 10 she was only able to save her immediate family, and was discouraged from trying to become a candidate for Queen and settle as a village hedge-witch. But her younger sister Arin insisted she was more and she is enrolled in the Northeast academy - as its least talented student.This book follows the less common of the girl with talents goes far story-line in that Dalania's talents are of application, cooperation, adaptation, and leadership rather than being the 'technical' standout.The writing is decent if not perfect, though perhaps it is my aged self that expects older conventions, the plot works well though there seem to small skips were I would expect development, and telling rather than showing occurs even if it is not overwhelming.A solid fantasy world that is interesting and well shown is really the highlight for me, and I will continue this series.
    • 4/5
      This was a really good book. It was written well, the character development was great, the book showcased great female friendships and our main character felt real.

      I LOVED the setting of this novel, a society that lives in the trees? SO COOL! I really enjoyed the world building, and how the author set up this world. It was so interesting to read about. I really liked that Daleina was not "the chosen one" who overcomes all her flaws and is the perfect person by the end. She accepts who she is and that she is not the best, yet still tries hard and has a goal just to protect her family and others from the tragedy that has befallen her. I loved how romance took a back burner - it was there, but it was quiet and female friendships really took root. I found that the skipping of years separated me from really understanding these friendships and how close the girls were, but I still understood that feeling that Daleina has for her friends - trust, and fierce need to protect them.

      This could have been a tropey mess that wasn't anything new, but the author delivered a fresh, new take and I loved reading it :)
    • 5/5
      So exciting plot. Good holiday book. Highly recommended to all
    • 5/5
      Love this book. I️ wish scribd carried the sequel. Looking forward to the next I️ Stallone t.
    • 4/5
      she's flawed. she still is. her journey is as real as an average being struggling and chasing after dreams. she isn't suddenly smart over night. some realities are hard to accept. but she braces it. she admits her short comings. I really love this aspect of the character. as mundane as she can be, her fears , her love, her resolution— they all make her up. she's lovable.
      do give this book a try.
    • 4/5
      quite engaging. it's not the usual born natural and talented.
    • 5/5
      Good story, good pace, liked the characters, overall would read more
    • 4/5
      Tree fantasies make me really happy, thoughtful and intelligent and tough heroines are even better, and the originality of this world really puts this book into another level of fantasy. I have no idea how the massive problems in spirit-human relations can be overcome, but I am very interested to see where Durst takes this story. Fantastic!

      Advanced Readers Copy provided by Edelweiss.
    • 5/5
      Durst creates an epic fantasy world filled with spirits who are malevolent and treacherous and the people who control them. The main character of this story is Daleina who was raised in a small forest village far from the capitol and the Queen. One day the spirits attack and it is only because Daleina has the power to control them that her family survives. When Daleina gets a little older, she is sent to the Academy to be trained to use her powers to control the spirits in hopes that someday she will be an Heir or even possibly the Queen. Daleina isn't the best student at the Academy. She barely squeaked by in her entrance exams and is consistently in the lower part of her class. She doesn't feel that she will ever be chosen by a Champion for further training. But her heart is in the right place, she is determined to master her powers to keep her family and the people of Renthia safe.She is chosen by Champion Ven who is a former lover of the current queen and in disgrace. Together, the two of them and the healer Hamon travel into the far reaches of Renthia to protect the people and to further Daleina's training. When it is time for students to test to be heirs, Daleina manages to secure the last place - the fiftieth - among the Heirs. The problem in this story is that the Queen has become ambitious and determined to live forever. She has been making deals with the spirits to gain power in exchange for allowing them to destroy and kill. When Daleina and her friends find out, they come up with a plan that will have severe consequences for all of them and for Renthia.This was an excellent story with a well-developed world and an intriguing main character. I can't wait to read the rest of this trilogy.
    • 4/5
      What a terrific read "The Queen of Blood" was. Although a bit slow at the start, the pace quickly picked up and the climax was thrilling. I loved the world Durst created. Instead of the medieval type society often found in fantasy stories, Aratay was set in trees and people moved from place to place via bridges, ladders and zip lines. The people of Aratay also share their world with spirits who hate the humans and whose strength come from fire, ice, air, earth, wood or water.I thought Daleina was an interesting protagonist. Despite lacking natural magical power, she was intelligent, compassionate, determined and resourceful. I also liked the strong female friendships she developed at the academy and also the fact that she had a wolf, Bayne, as a loyal companion. It was also nice that her family was so loving and supportive of her decisions.This was the beginning of an excellent fantasy series and I can't wait to see what happens next to Deleina and the people of Aratay.

      1 person found this helpful

    • 4/5
      Well developed world, especially the different spirits and how each students handle them as their training progresses. Not for the faint of heart, but a dandy fantasy read.
    • 4/5
      Daliena never thought she would be chosen but an attack by spirits brings out her power. The spirits are everywhere and only the power of the Queen keeps them from destroying the queendom. There is always conflict betwen spirits and humans. She is chosen to study to be an Heir, but only her Champion Ven believes in her.
    • 5/5
      Don’t trust the fire, for it will burn you.Don’t trust the ice, for it will freeze you.Don’t trust the water, for it will drown you.Don’t trust the air, for it will choke you.Don’t trust the earth, for it will bury you.Don’t trust the trees, for they will rip you, Rend you, tear you, kill you dead.I started this book thinking that it might be a typical YA fantasy. Where the lead female and male characters love each other and save the world kind of YA. Well, I surely was mistaken, this story is definitely Delaina of Greytree's and no one else. I like how the author inserted scenes that showed that women have the freedom to pursue their sexuality if you're all for woman empowerment this is for you. Renthia's countries are ruled by Queens, chosen by the spirits from a number of heirs and female because they have the affinity to control them. I thought that Deleina would be the typical powerful girl from the woods or some not expect origin who actually has immense power, but no, if anything Deleina's power doesn't fit with what the society of Aratay deem as strong and powerful. To them, she's just so-so, but Delaina's no wimp. This is what I like about the lead character, she's relatable in a way she wasn't born with this huge secret power and that no one thinks she can do it but she struggles, improvises and looks for a way for her to pass and succeed; and in the end that is what saves her.It's a fast read, there's no dragging moments but not much world building but maybe in the next book?
    • 4/5
      Review courtesy of Dark Faerie TalesQuick & Dirty: Dark, terrifying world ruled by spirits where one girl through her smarts and ingenuity learns how to control these deadly creatures. I recommend for fans of fantasy and young adult fantasy novels.Opening Sentence: Don’t trust the fire, for it will burn you.The Review:The Queen of Blood is the beginning of a new series by Sarah Beth Durst called The Queens of Renthia. The novel follows the story of Deleina as she learns to control the spirits that control the land around her. The Queen of Blood is billed as an adult story but it really did feel like a young adult novel. There are some themes that make it a bit edgier, especially the level of violence but I honestly feel it is no edgier than Sarah J. Maas’ novels. (I actually think those novels are a bit more edgy than this was.)First off, I feel like I should describe the world that the characters live in. This is a world where humans are not the top of the food chain. They think they are but they are not. There are six main spirits that make up the land. Fire, ice, water, air, earth and trees. In my mind, I see these spirits as looking more like faeries or pixies but in reality these spirits are humanoid to an extent. They vary in size and shape. Each one can look like the different animals found in nature. These spirits have only one driving desire: To kill humans. They hate humans with a passion. The only thing keeping the spirits in check is the Queen. There are five Queens that control the spirits within their lands’ borders. The Queen’s hold the ultimate power to control the spirits and keep them from killing the humans that live there. There are other humans that have power to control the spirits, these people also vary in power level but unfortunately most humans can’t control the spirits at all.There are three characters that the story follows in The Queen of Blood, each one gets their own POV’s as the story plays out. Deleina is the character the story mainly follows as she grows up learning how to control her powers over the spirits that make up the land that the humans live on. As a child, Deleina survived the slaughter of her town only because of the control she wielded to keep the spirits from killing her and her family. Deleina is not all-powerful. (Although we do meet the character who is during the course of this novel.) Deleina often struggles with her control over the spirits. She gets by because of her ingenuity and her smarts. She often doubts herself and her place in the world but then she remembers why she is doing it all for in the first place: To protect her family. Deleina is one character that I really respected. She comes from a good place and her reasons to become a candidate for Queen make her someone that other people should respect. I will say that she does do something pretty terrible but in the end it is a decision that she doesn’t take lightly as lives are at stake. The reasoning why I think this seems like such a young adult book is because the events take place when Deleina is ten years to eighteen years old.Ven is the badass Champion that ends up picking Deleina as his candidate to become Queen. As a Champion, Ven is a warrior that knows how to fight off the spirits. His first duty is to protect the Queen and then his second duty is to find someone who can take her place when she inevitably dies. He trains Deleina in all things practical so she knows how to deal with the spirits. Ven, Deleina and Queen Fara have a history that intertwines as the story goes on.There are two side characters that I want to mention because I really want to know what happens to one and the other was just an awesome side character. Merecot is another girl who goes through training with Deleina in a Harry Potter type school that is used to train the students in the ways of controlling spirits. This school is dangerous and often deadly because spirits are irrational and not easily controlled. There are quite a few people missing limbs. Merecot is extremely powerful and disappears halfway through the novel. One line let me know where she ended up but I really want to know how her story plays out. She was such a wild card. She was mean and terrible but then she’d stick up for others even saving lives while she played up the bitch card. The other character is loved was a wolf named Bayn. He has such a personality that he felt like another human character. He understood everything and was an awesome wolf. He is a great companion to Deleina.The Queen of Blood is a novel for fans of fantasy, young and old. The world is dangerous and crazy. It is a world I would not want to live in. The humans have gotten too comfortable that the Queen will protect them but what happens when the spirits decide they no longer need controlled. Queen of Blood is very much a novel about a girl learning how to deal with her powers and growing into a woman. As a reviewer, I can only speculate that each novel will be about a different woman in each of the five countries. I could be entirely wrong but I do know that I really want to read the sequel to find out what happens next.Notable Scene:“First Headmistress Hanna tried to convince me that I don’t want you, and now she wants to convince you that you don’t want me,” Ven said. Damn man sounded amused. “The fact is that you do get to decide, Daleina. It’s not only me choosing you; you must choose me as well.”“Is this what happened with all the candidates?” Deleina asked. “When they came to see you. Did you try to talk them out of it?”Her bright eyes were fixed on Hanna, and the headmistress shifted in her chair. She should lie, for the sake of the girl’s feelings, but under her gaze, it didn’t feel right. “This is an unusual case.”“Because I’m a mediocre student, and he’s a disgraced champion?” Deleina turned back to Ven, and Hanna couldn’t help admiring the thread of stubbornness that ran through her voice. That determination, she remembered, was why she’d allowed a barely qualified girl to enter the academy four years ago. “Do you think I can help protect the outer villages?”“Yes,” he said without hesitation.“Then I choose him,” Deleina said.Hanna looked from one to the other, at their identical mulish expressions. She sighed heavily. “Just tell me one thing, Ven: why her?”“Because she knows why she’s here,” he answered. “She knows who the enemy is.”FTC Advisory: Harper Voyager provided me with a copy of The Queen of Blood. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review.
    • 5/5
      Lately I've had a hankering for a classic, quest-style adventure. Go over the bridge, speak to the wizard, and fight the ultimate evil. That being said, the Queen of Blood does not follow this formula (plot-wise it goes the academy / training montage route). The front flap of the hardcover does promise that Daleina embarks on "a treacherous quest." I agree that the epic, legendary feel of great quests is present in this story. It is a sort of intangible quality. I dislike comparing books, but the feeling is similar to that in Finnikin of the Rock. As a reader, I am invested in Delaina as the heroine, but on her journey we learn together that the story is about so much more than one person.
    • 4/5
      The Queen of Blood is the first book in a High Fantasy series. The world has spirits, who exist solely to create and destroy things, and one of the things they want to destroy is Humans. Some humans are born with the affinity to spirits, which gives them the ability to bend the spirits to their will. Only women have the affinity, and so queens are chosen to keep the people (and the spirits, as well) safe. A new queen is chosen from a pool of “heirs” who have been trained extensively and hand-picked by the queen herself.Despite there being a queen in power there, attacks on outer forest villages have been happening more and more frequently. The Champion Ven and his candidate to become heir (and our main character) Daleina try their best to help these villages, while not breaking the “Do No Harm” command between the spirits and humans.I don’t want to give away too much, but a lot of politics and magic ensues.Some people have this shelved as YA on Goodreads, enough that it’s only second to Fantasy, but it actually is not marketed as a YA series and was shelved with adult books at my library. However, I do see the crossover appeal. Our main character is a young woman who for a good part of the book is training at a magical school and then under a mentor. There are trials that then take place before the girls are selected as heirs. There’s background romances, strong female friendships, and a big part of this book is grappling with the idea of growing up and leaving home and coming to terms that home isn’t going to stay the same forever. Also there’s not any vulgarity, gratuitous violence, and there’s only mild sexual situations, so it’d definitely be appropriate for teens.As far as writing style goes I can’t say I noticed it at all while I was reading it, which generally for me means it was pretty good. There were no distracting attempts at abusing a thesaurus nor were there any glaring flaws. It’s a straightforward style, which I tend to like.The plot had a decent amount going on. Our main perspective is from Daleina, but we also get chapters from Ven, and occasionally from Queen Fara.I really enjoyed the world here. The spirits are more a part of the world than they are anything else (except for one, but I won’t say more than that) even as a large part of the plot revolves around them. Aratay is a forest kingdom complete with houses and entire villages in the trees. It was such a fun setting to read and it was easy to become immersed in throughout the story.There’s enough going on to keep things moving and intriguing, but not so much that I think it would confuse anyone. As far as fantasy goes this one is fairly accessible, and you know, I like that. Not every fantasy has to go out of its way to make the world and plot as complicated as possible (though I do love intricate world-building and plots with a lot of different folds, too, when done well.)The stakes are high, and I won’t spoil anything, but the ending had all the payoff I was looking for.The characters felt decently fleshed out to me.There were points where I didn’t feel super connected to Daleina or where her choices and frustrations didn’t really make a lot of sense to me. But that wasn’t a problem throughout, and the times I felt that way didn’t ruin the overall story for me. Overall I enjoyed her a lot as the main character.It was extremely refreshing to have a fantasy story revolve around a character that actually had to work hard to achieve their goals. I’m so sick of these perfect men (and women, though that’s more in YA) that are great at absolutely everything without even trying. Oh, and if they’re a man they also get all the ladies with just the bat of an eyelash. Those characters are hard to connect with, annoying to read about, and I don’t even want to root for them because I know they’re going to succeed no matter what. In this story, there was a real chance of Daleina not succeeding; there was a lot of emphasis on how much harder she had to work than all of her peers- not even to excel at the magical school she was at, but only to passably get through her training- and that makes her one of the more admirable main characters I’ve read about. I really cannot stress enough how much I appreciated this.That said, Champion Ven was absolutely my favorite character of the whole thing. He’s disgraced toward the beginning of the book, and spends the rest of it adventuring among the outer forest and trying his best to save villages from spirit attacks. He tries his best to do the right thing and to be noble, but he has one major thing holding him back, a past affair with the Queen.On that note, Ven and Queen Fara’s romance didn’t really translate well, in my opinion. The chemistry felt fabricated. There was a lot of telling rather than showing, and I didn’t feel any romantic or sexual tension in the scenes I think I was supposed to. It was in the background enough that it didn’t bother me too much, but I did sort of find myself rolling my eyes whenever they were together or whenever Ven thought about how beautiful she is.Daleina and Hamon on the other hand were a couple I really liked. Their chemistry felt real, at one point they have an argument and that tension feels real and relatable as well, and I just really appreciated what we got of their romance, and I’m also glad it stayed mostly in the background.Overall I really enjoyed this book, and I am planning on continuing this series. This series deserves way more attention than it’s got- if this first book is indicative of anything- and I’m so glad I gave it a shot. I literally only decided to see if it was at my library because I had nothing else to read and sorted my goodreads shelf by random to pick the first three books that came up. And I’m glad I did.
    • 5/5
      A received an ARC of this book from the publisher.Queen of Blood is one of my favorite reads for the year. It features powerful, diverse women, an innovative new approach to fae spirits, and TREES. Beautiful, massive trees that people live in. Hey, I live near Phoenix, Arizona. I thirst for greenery. If I could set a vacation in Renthia (when things weren't bound to kill me), I'd go in an instant. Plus, characters travel at top speed across long distances by zip-lining.Daleina is a relatable heroine who survives by grit and determination. She is not magically gifted. She is academically mediocre. As she attends a Hogwarts-esque school (that I would prefer to Hogwarts), she is repeatedly and gently told she would be better off settling as a hedge witch in some small village because she is simply not good enough to be a candidate for Queen. Yet she persists, because the Queen is the one who controls the spirits. Spirits like the ones who destroyed Daleina's village and almost killed her family when she was young. Daleina wants to save people, and her relentless drive to do so is beautiful and affirming.This book gripped me from page 1. I found every excuse I could to stop and read, because the tension just drove me crazy. And the ending...! I feel like I want the next book NOW, but it's probably best that I have to wait, because I might need therapy first. Egad.Queen of Blood is out September 20th. It should probably win some awards for one of the best covers of the year, too.

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    Book preview

    The Queen of Blood - Sarah Beth Durst

    CHAPTER 1

    Don’t trust the fire, for it will burn you.

    Don’t trust the ice, for it will freeze you.

    Don’t trust the water, for it will drown you.

    Don’t trust the air, for it will choke you.

    Don’t trust the earth, for it will bury you.

    Don’t trust the trees, for they will rip you,

    rend you, tear you, kill you dead.

    It’s a child’s chant. You jump over a rope, faster and faster, as you name the spirits. Trip on the rope, and that is the spirit that someday will kill you. Fire, ice, water, air, earth, or wood.

    Clutching her rope, six-year-old Daleina slipped out her window and ran along the branches toward the grove, drawn to the torchlight. Her parents had said no, absolutely not, go to bed and stay there, but even then, even when she was still so young and eager to please, Daleina would not be kept from her fate. She’d run toward it, arms open, and kick fate in the face.

    All the other children were already gathered on the forest floor, under the watch of the local hedgewitch. Dropping from the branches onto the moss, Daleina joined them. Her cheeks pink from her run and her hair wild from the wind, she swung her rope and began the chant. "Don’t trust the fire . . ."

    Ribbons fluttered around them, bright colors to represent each of the six spirits. Buried beneath the ribbon poles and dangling around them and between the torches were charms. The children’s chant and the ribbons would tempt the spirits, but the charms would repel them. It was as safe as the hedgewitch knew how to make it, and she smiled at the children as she circled counterclockwise and spoke the words of protection as she’d been taught.

    The children jumped faster, repeating the chant. At least two dozen girls and boys, the youngest six years old and the oldest twelve, had come to the grove to prophesy their future. Some were dressed in their finest, with lace in their hair and starch in their shirts, blessed with their parents’ approval. Others, like Daleina, wore their nightshirts and dresses and had uncombed hair and bare feet.

    As she skipped, Daleina saw the first tree spirit poke its sharp nose between the leaves. It scurried over the branches and hung upside down to watch them, its shadow large in the torchlight. "Don’t trust the water . . ." Another wood spirit separated from the trunk of a tree, its bulbous body covered in a thick mat of moss and leaves. Teasing the edges of the charms, an earth spirit, hairless and brown, bared its rocklike teeth. Don’t trust the air . . .

    One child faltered.

    Another fell.

    Like Daleina, they’d seen the spirits emerge from the dark forest and encircle the grove. Don’t trust the earth . . . Her bare feet squished on the soft ground. It had rained a few hours before, and mud stained her toes. She imagined an earth spirit reaching up through the muck to grab her ankle, and an air spirit swooping her into the air and dropping her from high above. Squeezing her eyes shut, she kept jumping. Don’t trust the trees . . .

    Because her eyes were closed, she didn’t see when the tiny tree spirit launched itself off its branch and over the charms, or when the other children stumbled and fell, every one of them, tripping on their ropes. ". . . rip you, rend you, tear you . . ."

    Hers was the only voice, until the screaming began.

    She opened her eyes as the hedgewitch shouted and the children shrieked. Blood stained the woman’s bodice, and the gnarled, leaf-coated creature clung to her shoulder. Daleina’s foot stuck in the mud and she forgot to jump as the rope swung down.

    Her parents ran toward her—her mother first, with a knife—and sliced the rope as it swung toward Daleina’s motionless feet. The two halves of the rope fell on either side of her.

    Other villagers poured into the grove. Swarming past Daleina and her parents, the others scooped up their own children. Several hurried to help the hedgewitch. Still clutching the ends of the limp rope, Daleina saw the spirit, blood on its shriveled, leafy face, flee up the trunk of an oak and then disappear into the night.

    Wood will not take you, her mother murmured into her hair. "Nor fire, nor ice, nor water, nor earth, nor air. You will live, my child. You must live."

    I’m fine, Mama, Daleina said.

    You were stupid. Lifting Daleina’s chin, Mama forced her to meet her eyes. Just because something is a tradition doesn’t mean it’s smart to do, or necessary. Promise me you won’t ever endanger yourself again.

    I’ll try, Daleina said, her cherubic face solemn, but, Mama, I can’t promise.

    DALEINA WAS TEN YEARS OLD WHEN THE CHILDREN’S PROPHECIES came true. She’d grown into a miniature of her mother: hair streaked with autumn-leaf colors—oranges, golds, reds, and browns—and calloused hands tan from the sun and roughened from days spent climbing through the village. She’d been charged with taking care of her younger sister, Arin, who was four.

    On that afternoon, Daleina was leading her sister home from school. The sun filtered through the leaves and laid a patchwork of green and yellow shadows across the tree trunks and the huts and over Daleina’s bare arms and legs as she clambered up the branches.

    Come on, Arin, keep up! she called.

    "When I’m older than you, I’m going to tell you what to do." Arin hooked her harness clips over a branch and scrambled her pudgy legs on top of it. Her cheeks puffed with the effort.

    You can’t be older than me.

    Can too. Got a birthday and then another and another, and I’m going to catch up. And then I’ll be bigger than you, Mama said so, because I eat my oatmeal.

    Reaching down, Daleina helped her sister hook onto the next branch. All of the routes through the village were marked with anchors and hooks, to help the very young and the elderly travel between the trees. You might get bigger, but I’ll still be older. I’ll always be older. That’s how it works. She thought she sounded very reasonable.

    Not fair!

    Oh no, she thought, tantrum coming. Mama said that Arin had honed her tantrums to artistic perfection: First, she’d twist her lips into a perfect rainbowlike frown, then she’d pool tears on her lashes. Her face would flush pink, with darker rose staining her plump cheeks. As the pink deepened, she’d begin on the whimpers. She wouldn’t scream, not outside—it wasn’t safe—but she’d bleat, like a beaten lamb, until whatever neighbor was closest came out to see who was torturing the poor, innocent, angelic Arin. If you cry, I’ll feed you to the wood spirits, Daleina told her. It was the most terrible threat she could think of.

    Arin’s eyes grew round, her mouth dropped open, and her lower lip quivered.

    Wonderful. I made it worse.

    I won’t, Daleina said quickly. I didn’t mean it. But please don’t cry, Arin.

    She spotted the wood spirit then, above Arin, a few trees over. It was a small one, with pale leaves poking out of its skin and berries ripening in its hair. Its eyes looked like walnuts, and its long, twiglike fingers curled around the branch it perched upon. It was watching them.

    Come on, let’s get home. She eyed the spirit—it didn’t seem to be moving any closer, but she didn’t like that it had noticed them. Mama always said to be careful never to catch their attention. When Daleina was five, her uncle had caught the eye of an unstable spirit and been torn apart in his own orchard. The rogue spirit had been caught and sent to the queen for punishment, but that didn’t mean other spirits were to be trusted. This far from the capital, a lot of spirits liked to test the strength of the queen’s do-no-harm command, or so people said whenever someone died unexpectedly. I’ll stay with you, but you have to try to climb a little faster, okay?

    She helped her sister shimmy up the trunk of a thick oak, boosting her so that she could wiggle onto the bridge. Backpack bouncing, Arin flopped onto it, and Daleina crawled up after her and stood. Almost home. Inhaling deeply, she breathed in the smell of pine, of mildewed leaves, of fresh laundry, and . . . ah, there it was: gingerbread! Mama had baked today, as she’d promised.

    The laundry smell was from their neighbor. Near the base of the village tree, old Mistress Hamby straddled two branches as she hung out her wash. Her husband was on their roof, tucking new charms in between the shingles. He waved as Daleina and Arin passed. Daleina waved back, and Arin inexplicably wiggled her elbows.

    Don’t be rude, Daleina told her.

    Don’t be boring, Arin shot back.

    Higher up in the tree, a few of Daleina’s friends called to her to come play—Juju, Sarbin, and Mina. She waved at them and pointed toward her sister. She’d have to play later, after Arin was delivered safely home. Using the rope ladders, Daleina and Arin climbed up past Mr. Yillit, who was pounding nuts to make nut flour. The fine dust coated his arms and clung to his arm hairs. He smiled and nodded at them. Arin did wave back at him. Daleina knew her sister liked Mr. Yillit because he was missing a front tooth, like Arin herself. Higher and to the left, they saw their second cousin Rosasi, who was stretched out in the crook of a branch, her bare feet stuck in a patch of sunlight, high above their house. She had a pile of knitting on her lap, though she wasn’t working on it. Mama often said that Rosasi was allergic to work. But she told excellent stories, about queens and heirs and their champions. When she tucked Arin in at night, as she did sometimes when Mama had late-night whittling to do, Daleina liked to listen in from her bed in the loft.

    Like the other village houses, Daleina and Arin’s house was woven into the branches. Its floors and walls were living parts of the tree itself. Village history said that two generations ago, a queen had commanded the spirits to grow their village from a handful of acorns. Daleina wished she could have seen that. The only power she’d ever seen up close was the local hedgewitch, and her skill was mostly with charms, not commands. To make a tree like theirs . . . Their tree housed twenty families, in homes that budded from thick branches above and below Daleina’s family’s, spiraling up the massive trunk. Ladders, pulleys, and bridges connected them. In the day, it was swarmed with people, going about their business and living their lives, and at night, jars full of firemoss were lit everywhere, making the tree look like it were covered in lightning bugs. Mama liked to say there was something to love about their tree during the day and night, as well as every season. In fall, the leaves changed to red and gold, and in winter, it was laced in ice. In spring, the villagers coaxed flowers to grow in buckets and troughs of earth, spilling out of every window and covering every roof. And in summer, now, it was fat and green and heavy with swelling, unripe fruit. Mama said there were hundreds of trees like theirs in the forests of Aratay, but Daleina had never left their village. Someday, she promised herself, I’ll leave and see other villages, maybe a city, maybe the capital, maybe even beyond. Up north, near the mountains of Semo, the trees were said to stand like sentinels, with white limbs that stretched straight like raised arms. And in the west, where the forest touched the untamed lands, it was said that the trees were a wild tangle so thick that nothing grew on the floor below. There were even areas of Aratay that had been abandoned to the wolves, bears, and spirits, and were full of sights that no one had seen and sounds that no one had heard for years.

    I want to see it all!

    Mama waited for them on their front porch. Seeing her, Arin sped across the bridge and scurried up the ladder without any help at all. Daleina followed behind.

    Any trouble? Mama asked.

    Daleina glanced back, but she didn’t see the small tree spirit, only the thick mat of leaves and the west bridge. None, except Arin’s teacher said that Arin didn’t eat her lunch.

    Tattler. Arin stuck out her tongue at Daleina.

    Arin, that’s not polite. Also, you’ll catch flies on that if you stick it out too long. Mama wiggled a finger, flylike, toward Arin’s tongue, and Arin quickly pulled it in. I packed your favorite lunch. Why didn’t you—

    A drop of red splatted on Arin’s cheek. Her fingers touched it, and she pulled her hand away and stared at her bloodstained fingertips.

    For a split second, all three of them stared at it, and then Mama said, Inside. Now.

    Mama, I’m bleeding! I’m hurt! Mama!

    She wasn’t. It wasn’t her blood. It was from above. The tree was raining blood. Daleina ran for the house as Mama caught Arin in her arms and ran inside. Where’s Daddy?

    Mama didn’t answer. She slammed the door behind them, drove the bolt across it, and then ran to each of the windows and locked them. Daleina, the charms, quick!

    Daleina hurried to each window, shoving charms into the crevices. She pushed them in so hard that her fingers hurt.

    Mama, where’s Daddy? Arin was crying, full out sobs.

    Hush, Mama ordered. I don’t know. He’s fine. He’s hiding. We have to stay inside too. Quietly. She dropped to her knees. Please, baby, be a good, strong girl for me. Arin gulped, trying to swallow her sobs, but they burst out of her. Mama crushed her close to her breast, stroking her hair. Shh, shh . . . Calm down, baby, calm down.

    Daleina shoved charms under the door and into the fireplace, filling it, until she ran out of them; then she ran back to her mother, who wrapped her arm around Daleina too. The house began to rattle and shake.

    Your papa is hiding. Don’t worry. It will all be fine, Mama said. The spirits won’t hurt us. They won’t dare. The queen won’t let them. ‘Do no harm,’ remember? It’s her command. Her promise. Her duty. Trust in her. Believe in her. She rocked back and forth as Daleina and Arin clung to her. Arin sniffled against her blouse, and Daleina buried her face in her mother’s hair. Outside, the screams sounded like the cries of a wounded hawk that Daleina had once heard, but louder and multiplied by a dozen. The leaves in the walls shook, and the wood in the floor cracked.

    Mama held them tighter.

    Daleina watched the cracks appear in the wood, chasing one another up the walls, fracturing like an eggshell as the house shuddered. The windows rattled, and Daleina saw shadows pass in front of them. Arin was shaking as hard as the walls, but she was too frightened to cry anymore.

    Something pounded at the door, and Arin whimpered and burrowed deeper into their mother’s lap, pushing Daleina out. She thought she heard her father’s voice.

    Daddy? Daleina whispered.

    Stay here, Mama commanded.

    Daleina began to pull away. He was calling. Wasn’t he? It was difficult to hear a single voice within the screams and the cries and the crashes and the thuds. Listening, she focused, trying to separate the strands of sounds—there, Daddy! She heard more pounding at the door. He was here, out there, trying to get in! Wrenching herself away from her mother, Daleina ran toward the door.

    Daleina, no! Mama cried, her voice a rough whisper.

    It’s Daddy! She yanked at the bolt, pulling it back.

    Behind her, she heard Mama push to her feet, but she was slowed by Arin, who stuck to her like a pricker bush. A weight on the door shoved it inward, and a shape fell inside, hard on his knees—Daddy!

    A squirrel-size tree spirit clung to his shoulder, its teeth dug deep into his flesh. Daddy’s face was slicked with streaks of red, and blood speckled his hair. He surged to his feet, and the spirit gripped him harder.

    Get off him! Daleina screamed. She grabbed at the spirit’s waist while Daddy pushed at its face. Its claws tore his shirt and chest. One claw sliced the back of Daleina’s arm, and a thin bead of blood popped onto her skin. Leave him alone!

    It hissed and spat.

    And then Mama was there, a rolling pin in her hand. She bashed at the spirit’s head and back. Get out! Out of my house! Away from my home!

    It twisted its head and fixed its eyes beyond them.

    Arin.

    Releasing Daddy, it ran toward Arin, faster than any of them could grab it.

    Scrambling underneath the kitchen table, Arin screamed, high and shrill.

    No! Don’t hurt my sister! Daleina felt as if her whole mind and body were screaming the words, as if they were ripped away from her and thrust outward. Stop!

    And, amazingly, it did.

    The spirit halted, mid-run. It pivoted its head to look directly at Daleina. Its eyes were red with veins that spread outward from its red pupil. It shifted from foot to thorny foot, hissing.

    Go away! Daleina said. Leave us alone.

    Again, Daleina, Mama said, her voice low, strangely calm. It’s listening to you.

    Leave us alone, she repeated.

    Again.

    Leave us alone, leave us alone, leave us alone. Leave!

    The spirit tore its gaze away to look again at Arin. Its spindly fingers reached toward her, but its feet didn’t move, as if it were rooted to the wood of the floor.

    Leave us alone! Daleina shouted, and she shoved every bit of fear and anger inside her into those three words, driving it all out through her body. She felt as if something were shattering inside her from the force of her shout.

    As if the words were physically shoving it, the spirit ran, skittering and shaking out the door—and Daleina caught a glimpse of outside. The bridges were broken, swinging from the upper branches, and the nearest house had collapsed. A man in green raced from branch to branch, a sword in his hand. Before Daleina could ask what was happening and who he was, Daddy slammed the door shut, and Mama slid the bolt.

    The house began to shake harder, and Daleina heard scraping at the roof, as if something were tearing the shingles and shredding the wood. Mama and Daddy dragged the cupboard in front of the door, and they upended the table and pushed it against a window.

    Command them, Mama ordered Daleina.

    Squeezing her eyes shut, Daleina repeated, Leave us alone, leave us alone, leave us alone. Thrusting the words out of her, Daleina sank to her knees. The cries outside drew back. Arin whimpered, and Mama and Daddy shushed her, and still Daleina kept chanting. The scraping on the roof stopped.

    Outside, through the walls, she still heard terrible sounds, but they were more distant now.

    At last—at very long last—it was quiet.

    Daleina pried open her eyes. Her eyelids felt gummy, as if they’d been glued together. In the corner of the room, she saw her family. Her father was slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. Her mother was pressing a cloth hard on his arm. The cloth was soaked red. Arin was curled in a ball underneath one of the chairs. Tears had stained her cheeks so they looked slick. Daddy? Daleina asked.

    Did they hurt you, Ingara? Daddy asked, pausing between each word to suck in air. Daleina? Arin? He winced as he tried to sit, and he clutched his side.

    They’re all right, and you aren’t dead, and I want to keep us all that way. Tell me how badly you’re hurt, Mama commanded.

    I’ll be fine. He puffed.

    Liar.

    Daleina rose shakily to her feet. She looked at the door. A crack ran, jagged, through it. Her legs felt as trembly as a newborn deer’s as she walked toward the door. She pressed her face to the crack, trying to see through, and saw a sliver: sunlight and green but that was all.

    She pressed her ear to the door, listening.

    She didn’t hear screaming anymore. Or anything. Just silence. Horrible silence that was somehow worse than all the noise. Stepping back, Daleina stared at the door.

    Daddy’s breathing was the loudest sound.

    You need a healer, Mama said to Daddy.

    Don’t, he said.

    It’s quiet, Mama said, standing. Daleina thought she’d never seen her mother look like that, so fierce and frightened at the same time, and in that instant, she decided she wanted to be exactly like Mama when she grew up. Whatever the spirits were doing, they’re done.

    Grabbing her wrist, he stopped her. Or they’re waiting for us to feel safe.

    Mama removed his hand. I’ll never feel safe again. She took a rolling pin in one hand and a kitchen knife in the other, the long knife that she always kept sharp enough for meat. Open it, Daleina, slowly.

    Taking a breath, Daleina slid the bolt and cracked the door open. She braced herself, ready to shove it shut with all the strength in her ten-year-old body, but nothing pushed against the door. She inched it open more and peeked outside.

    What she saw didn’t make sense.

    Widening the door, she stared out and tried to understand. All she saw was trees, just the unclaimed forest, thick with trunks. No bridges. No houses. Leaning out, she looked up—all the higher branches had been shorn off the tree. Only their house was still attached. She looked down, down, straight down to the forest floor. A mass of broken boards lay tangled on the forest floor. She saw a chair and a table, upturned. Clothes were strewn between the branches, like ribbons leftover from a birthday party.

    Are they out there? Arin asked, still under the table.

    No, Daleina said. Her mouth felt dry, as if she hadn’t swallowed water in a very long time. No one’s out there.

    What do you mean, ‘no one’s out there’? Mama asked, nudging Daleina aside so she could fit in the doorway. Side by side, they looked out at the pristine forest, above the wreckage. Sunset was coming, and the shadows stretched long between the trees. The wind was still, and nothing moved. No spirits. No animals. No people.

    Nothing.

    Fetch the healing kit.

    Daleina didn’t move.

    Now.

    Hurrying, Daleina ran to the cabinet over the sink. She pulled out a basket filled with bandages, tonics, and dried roots and herbs. Sunlight slid through the cracks in the closed window over the sink, as if it were a beautiful, ordinary day outside. Daleina didn’t want to open the window.

    Mama? Arin asked. What are we going to do?

    First, we fix up your father. Returning to Daddy, Mama opened his vest and peeled his shirt away from blood-sticky skin. And then we go out and see.

    See what?

    If there’s anyone left, Mama said.

    Arin began to cry again.

    Wordless, Daleina helped Mama, fetching water from the kitchen sink, as well as bandages and herbs as instructed. Mama washed out the wounds—there were many—on Daddy’s neck, legs, arm. His thick clothes had blocked some of the bites, making them bruises instead of punctures, but there were still so many that his once-white shirt was speckled red all over. While Mama worked, Daleina listened for the sounds of their neighbors—surely someone had seen Daddy rush in, injured—but no one came to check on them or help them. She thought of the man in green she’d seen, or imagined.

    Spirits aren’t supposed to hurt people, Arin said, her eyes glued to the bandages and Daddy’s shirt. The queen won’t let them.

    I know, baby, Mama said.

    Why did she let them? Arin asked.

    Maybe she couldn’t stop them this time, Daleina said. Maybe she was sick or distracted. Maybe she didn’t know what they were doing. Maybe the spirits decided we’re too far from the capital for her to know. And maybe they’re right, she thought.

    But she’s the queen, Arin said. She’s supposed to keep us all safe.

    We aren’t safe here, Daddy said. We need to find the forest guards, before the spirits come back. Alert them to the danger. Tell them there may be villagers who need healers. The fact that Daddy was able to say so much without gasping for air made Daleina feel better. She had her parents, whole and safe, and they’d take care of her and Arin. Everything would be all right, and this would become one of those stories that Rosasi told at night.

    After Mama bandaged Daddy up as well as she could, she rigged the basket on the pulley—the one they used to lift heavy supplies from the forest floor—and climbed in. Everyone, in. We stay together. Daleina . . . Mama hesitated. The spirits listened to you. Can you make them listen again, if you have to?

    All three of them looked at Daleina, and she shrank back. No, their parents were supposed to take care of them, not the other way around! She’d just begun to feel safe. I . . . I don’t know. She didn’t know how she’d done it, or why it had worked. She’d never been able to command spirits before, and no one in her family had ever shown any affinity for them. Maybe it was a fluke. Or a coincidence. Maybe it wasn’t her at all.

    You can do it, Mama said. You did it once; you can do it again.

    Daddy smiled at her—a weak ghost of a smile, but Daleina saw it as she climbed into the basket, alongside Mama and Arin. We always knew you were special, he said.

    Arin stuck out her lower lip. I’m special too.

    Of course, Arin. He smiled at her, a real one this time, as he climbed in with them, and then as Mama lowered the basket, his smile faded.

    From the basket, it was clear that of the twenty homes that used to fill the village’s tree, theirs was the only one left. All the others had been torn from their branches and then ripped apart and scattered on the forest floor. Kitchen tables, pantries, food, bowls, cups . . . beds, chests, toys, sheets, clothes . . . all the innards of two dozen homes were spilled below the trees and mixed together. Daleina saw the strand of laundry, clothes tangled in it, that belonged to old Mistress Hamby. And then she saw Mistress Hamby, her body twisted by what was once a door. Her eyes were open. She was missing her arm, and her chest . . . Daleina looked away. The basket jerked lower, and she saw more.

    Legs. Arms. Faces. The faces were the worst.

    Don’t look, Daddy said, but it was much too late.

    Rosasi. Sweet, funny, work-averse Rosasi, who told such wonderful stories. Her throat looked like a red flower. Her hands still clutched her knitting.

    She saw her friends: Juju, Sarbin . . . She didn’t see Mina. Didn’t want to. But she couldn’t stop looking, her eyes roaming over the tangle of their torn village, until she stopped on the figure of a man in dark green, alive, walking toward them.

    He was flanked by two men and a woman, one in white and two in black—a healer and two guards. The man in green held a sword. His eyes swept the branches above them while the others poked through the debris.

    Over here! Daddy called and waved.

    When the strangers reached them, the man in the white healer cloak darted directly for Daddy and began checking his wounds. The two guards flanked them in protective stances while the man in green considered them and their intact house. Which of you has the affinity? he asked.

    Mama and Daddy both gestured at Daleina. Our daughter, sir, Daddy said. But we didn’t know it until today.

    The man in green looked at Daleina, and Daleina felt as if he were looking through her skin to study her bones. His eyes were pale water-blue, and his face was scarred beneath his black beard. He still held his sword, and Daleina saw it was thick with tree sap and specked with rustlike red. She must be trained. Without waiting for a response, he said to the guards, Take them with the other survivors.

    Oh, thank the queen, there are others! Mama said.

    The healer laid a hand on her arm. Only a few, I’m afraid.

    Then we shouldn’t say thank you, Arin said, clutching Daleina’s hand. Her pudgy fingers were slick with sweat, but Daleina held on to them. The queen didn’t help us. We shouldn’t thank her.

    Hush, Arin, Daddy said.

    Daleina should be queen, Arin said. "She kept us safe."

    Mother clapped a hand over Arin’s mouth. "Arin! Quiet! This is a champion!"

    Daleina stared at the man in green—she’d never seen a champion before. There were only a few, charged with training the heirs and protecting the queen. She never imagined one would be in her village, or what was left of her village.

    For a brief instant, she imagined him sweeping her away, taking her to the capital, and proclaiming her his chosen candidate. It happened that way in the tales: a champion would appear in a tiny village, test the children, and pluck one to be trained to become an heir, and the heirs became legends themselves, creating villages, securing the borders, and keeping the spirits in check, in conjunction with the queen. She imagined herself in the palace, a circle of golden leaves on her head, with her family beside her, safe because of her power. Never again huddling afraid in a hut in a tree.

    Her story should have begun right then, in that moment. Fate had declared that her power would emerge in her village’s tragedy, and chance had put the champion in the nearby trees at the moment the spirits attacked, too late to save the village but in time to meet Daleina. It should have been the beginning of a legend, the moment he recognized her potential and she embraced her future with both arms.

    But it wasn’t.

    The champion looked away, across the ruined village and the broken bodies. Only the best can become queen. And she is not the best. Daleina felt his words hit like slaps, and then he added the worst blow of all: If she were, these people would still be alive.

    CHAPTER 2

    Champion Ven knelt in the ruins of the village. Sifting through the rubble, he lifted out a broken doll, its pink dress streaked with dirt and its pottery face cracked.

    There was always a broken doll.

    Why did there always have to be a damn doll?

    Other stuff didn’t bother him—the broken dishes, the bedsheets, the clothes, all the evidence of lives lived and then cut off—but the dolls got him every time. He used to collect them, in the wake of whatever tragedy had struck this time, take them to a toymaker to be cleaned, and then give them to kids in nearby villages. After a while, though, he decided that was too morbid.

    He tossed the doll aside. There weren’t many survivors. Two children. A handful of adults. They’d be taken to another village, given new homes and lives. The older girl would be trained and maybe become some village’s hedgewitch someday. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t see anything like this again. But she’d always have nightmares.

    Ven knew the nightmares well. He hated sleep. A day like this, he wasn’t fond of being awake either. Straightening, he admitted that he wasn’t going to find any other survivors, and the spirits weren’t going to come back to let him beat on them more.

    He wished he could track the ones responsible, make them pay, or at least make them understand. . . . But they’d never understand that what they’d done was wrong, and destroying the spirits would only hurt the forest and leave more people homeless.

    Champion Ven? It was one of the guards. He’d forgotten her name. She favored an ax and left her right side open for a half second too long when she fought. She was decent with throwing knives and slept lightly, waking often to check their camp. He’d traveled with her for five days. Still didn’t remember her name. The survivors want to bury the dead.

    He shook his head. The queen will take care of it. She’d have the earth spirits subsume the village and cleanse the entire area with water spirits.

    The guard flipped a piece of wood with her toe. Underneath it was a hand, gray and bloodless, already stiffening. Like she took care of them when they were alive?

    Ven raised both his eyebrows. He knew that look could quell most people. This guard, however, was made of sterner stuff, or else she too was unnerved by how thoroughly the spirits had decimated this village to care about his best fiery expression. This village—what had it been called? Greytree?—might have been on the outskirts, but it was within Aratay’s borders. It should have been safe.

    The guard met Ven’s eyes steadily. Is she dead?

    He flinched at the word, picturing the queen’s body broken, like one of these villagers, but it was a fair question—after a queen’s death, the spirits always went wild, until the heirs called for a coronation, suspending the spirits’ power. I heard no bells. Three tolls for the death of a queen, repeated across the forest. Even if she were, she has many capable heirs. If Queen Fara died, they would undergo the coronation ceremony, and one of them would reaffirm the queen’s commands. That was the entire point of heirs, and the purpose of champions. Champions found and trained potential heirs, to ensure that Aratay would always have a queen and that the spirits would always be controlled.

    Except they hadn’t been controlled here, Ven thought, echoing the guard’s snark.

    He swore under his breath, colorfully and thoroughly.

    If he wanted to be sure this didn’t happen again, he had to find out why it had happened here, why the spirits had defied the queen, and he wasn’t going to find an explanation in the outer forest. He had to go back to the capital, talk to Fara, determine why her protections had failed. He was a champion. It was his responsibility. It was the only way to find the answers he needed, the answers that these people deserved. I’ll speak to the queen.

    She must be told, the guard agreed.

    She won’t be pleased to see me. I’m not welcome at the palace. He winced, aware that sounded perilously close to a whine, which was not behavior becoming a champion, especially in the wake of a tragedy he’d been unable to prevent. Assuming a sterner voice, he said, See to it that the survivors are settled safely and then resume patrols. I’ll return as soon as I can.

    Just try not to break any heirlooms.

    It was an accident, he ground out.

    "You broke her crown."

    I thought she was being attacked!

    She’s the queen, the guard said. She could have defended herself against a vicious twig. The queen’s crown was made of twisted living branches that grew flowers every spring and leaves every summer, despite being severed from the earth. He’d thought it was turning on its wearer. He wished that story hadn’t spread. It made him look like an idiot. Just because he’d acted like an idiot, that didn’t mean all of Renthia had to know.

    Send word if there are any more attacks, he said.

    The guard sobered. Run quickly, Champion Ven.

    He nodded once and then he sprinted for the nearest trunk. Using the village’s anchors, he climbed up, looking back only once to see the guard kneel in the wreckage and pick up the broken doll.

    IN THE CITY OF MITTRIEL, THE CAPITAL OF ARATAY, IN THE HEART of Renthia, the white limbs of the palace tree shone in the moonlight. The shadows seemed softer, and Ven felt as if he was coming home, even though he hated the place.

    He’d traveled through midforest, watching for other signs of unrest among the spirits, but hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary. In every village and town, men and women went about their lives without fear—or at least with no more fear than usual. When you lived surrounded by mindless, powerful creatures whose primary instinct is to murder you, a little healthy fear is normal. Even champions weren’t fearless. We just carry larger knives, Ven thought.

    Crouching on a branch just outside the perimeter of the palace, Ven eyed the spirits who served the queen. Tonight there seemed to be more than usual, or maybe he was just sensitive to them. He’d never liked the way they flocked around the queen, as if they were loyal, as if they wouldn’t gleefully rip her throat out if her control ever slipped. Above the north spire, two air spirits chased a banner around a pole, winding it, then unwinding it, playing with the wind. On the spiral stairs, a fire spirit lit the candles, dancing within each flame. Below, earth spirits tended to the queen’s rose garden, coaxing black roses to bloom for the night.

    Maybe what happened in the village was an aberration. Maybe he’d report to Queen

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