THE DARKENING (The Divided Realms: Book 2)

PROLOGUE

Dacia's breath caught, excitement strumming over her like urgent fingers on lute strings. Father sat at his desk, eyes blank, face inscrutable. But Dacia knew. She knew he meant to make her his crowned heir. With Nezeral defeated, he had no choice. She was next-born. Had proven herself in countless Games, even besting the crowned heirs of two different faerie houses. She would be Father's pick – the next crowned heir to the House of Jarlath Thornheart.

"The girl will come."

The girl? A flat note soured Dacia's jubilance. What did Father mean by that?

"It's all set now. The Game is in motion."

Dacia stared, careful to hide her confusion.

"Council has agreed to the Game. The rules are ratified. All that's required is to select the players." Jarlath's brilliant eyes penetrated Dacia. "You, my dear, will be the main player in a Game to win back your brother."

No. No. No. On the inside, Dacia felt her world collapsing. On the outside, she didn't stir a muscle. "Nezeral has been defeated," she said dispassionately. "And by a human. Why bring him back, when he has brought such shame to our house?"

"Bringing him back is not the immediate purpose." Jarlath toyed with a feathered quill. "The first purpose will be to win the heart of the human girl. She must agree to bring you back to Mistolear."

Mistolear? Humans? Despite her tight control, fascination crept over Dacia, her mind swarming with lurid pictures of the primitive creatures, of their clumsy magic and small crafty brains. Father would send her to be with them? The thought made her shiver in anticipation.

"No Game," Jarlath continued, "can change the outcome of another. We can't take Nezeral back. He must stay with the humans until he reaches their age of sixteen years. We can, though, win him back – in a fashion." A smile stole over his face. "You will go to Mistolear, Dacia, and stay there till Nezeral is grown again. You will keep him unsullied by human customs, instructing him all the while in the ways of Dark. Then when he is returned to us, he will be untainted."

Awareness hit Dacia like a cold air blast. Father had no intention – now or in the next millennium – of naming her the crowned heir. He would bring Nezeral back and pretend that nothing had changed. Her mouth twitched. Only her clenched toes indicated her fury.

"Of course, you'll be as free as your brother was to make new Games with the humans. Games to sway the Balance to Dark." Jarlath's glance pinned her like a moth. "What say you, my daughter? Shall you be the Game Master in my new Game? Or shall I ask Theon?"

The mention of her twin brother decided it for Dacia. "I will be Game Master, Father." Only crowned heirs or potential crowned heirs could lead a Game as a Game Master. No way would she give Theon a chance to usurp her. She rose from her chair, bowed to Jarlath, and left the study, rage propelling her down black marble corridors and out the castle doors.

At the foot of the great entrance steps loomed the lion gargoyle statues. Dacia fumed in their shadow. So Father thought he could pass her over as heir, yet still dangle the opportunity like a prize? Well, she would show him. She would find a way to turn the Game to her advantage.

On a whim, she magicked herself atop the stone base of one of the gargoyles and slid down into its hollowed-out middle. As a child, she'd made all her Game plans here. It was a tighter fit than she remembered. But Dacia liked the comfort of squeezed-in places. They helped her think better.

After a minute, though, her neck began to cramp. It had been eons since she'd last hidden under the lion gargoyle. Its belly used to barely brush the top of her head. She touched the cold black stone with her hand. Marble groaned and grated, the belly above her magically rising a few inches. Dacia straightened her neck. Around the tiny cavity, rune graffiti shimmered like silvery snail tracks. She chuckled at her childish script, at the overly elaborate schemes she used to hatch.

Someone snorted. Dacia ducked as footsteps pattered down the stairs. She peeked over the lion paws at a pair of shiny black boots.

"Dace, if you're going to hide under there, I suggest you raise both gargoyles. I could see that one is higher than the other from a mile away."

Anger, twinged with spite, ripped through Dacia. Theon was the real reason Father hadn't named her the crowned heir. Twins embodied the Balance – one Light, one Dark. But which was which? No one knew. Dacia glared past Theon and his insufferable grin, instantly raising the other gargoyle to match her own. "Satisfied?" she spat at him.

He shrugged and continued grinning at her. "If anyone asks for you, shall I say you're a bit – under the weather?"

This was too much for Dacia. She materialized two steps above Theon, so that she could stare down at him haughtily. "Little Brother," she said, reminding him of his place – he was a full two minutes younger than her – "be careful whom you mock. I will not always be merciful in my wins against you."

Theon's face reddened. It was Dacia's turn to grin. They had been pitted against each other in Games since childhood and she had trounced him memorably more than once. If there was to be a competition between them, she would most likely be the victor, and he knew it.

Bowing his defeat, Theon turned away from her, evaporating from sight. Dacia eyed the spot where he had stood, her anger fading. She remembered a time when they had hidden under the gargoyles together, he on one side, she the other. It seemed so long ago now. When had Father forced them to become enemies?

Her thoughts turned back to her father's new Game. Jarlath had her completely cornered. No matter what she did, Nezeral would still be crowned heir. She slumped against a gargoyle leg. How could she beat them? How ...

Suddenly, it became clear. She remembered her human studies. The lessons on low intelligence and simple instincts. Humans wouldn't care for an infant faerie. They would want revenge. Dacia smiled. Father had lied to her. His worry wasn't that Nezeral would learn to be like a human – but that he would learn to fear them.

She ran the tip of her tongue along her teeth, the inkling of a plan beginning to take form. She knew what to do now. She would best the human girl, go to Mistolear, and teach her elder brother to fear. Only he would not fear humans. He would fear her.

Oh yes, she would bring Nezeral back and be the crowned heir. She would win it all.