A Heart Made of Glass: Blood Magic, #1

By Katy Haye

Orphaned, alone and a mother out of wedlock, Ana is poor and powerless. Or so she thinks. But when her ex-suitor tries to steal her son away from her, the magic Ana never knew she had bursts free in an explosion of chaos and destruction.

That moment changes Ana's life forever. Expecting severe punishment for her crimes, Ana is thrown a lifeline instead. She's whisked away from everything she knows to the Academy of Light where she must learn to use her magic for the good of the kingdom.

If she succeeds, she'll be reunited with her son.

If she fails ... well, misused magic still carries the death penalty in Muirland.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Plumshine Books
• Release date: May 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9798215211977

Book preview

1 – Then

The pain was unendurable. I can’t do this. Ana appealed to the women either side of her, panting through the agony.

You don’t have a choice. The midwife’s tone was brisk, her hand at Ana’s back. Come now, you’re young and healthy. Less fuss and the job will be done faster.

Another contraction rippled over her belly and Ana moaned. Less fuss? How could anyone not make a fuss over this? Lady Jessina, her mother-in-law in all but name, smiled, her tone encouraging. It’ll all be worth it when baby is here.

It had better be, Ana thought but didn’t say, words and then thought itself overwhelmed by the pain of her body trying to expel its burden. She gasped and wailed.

You’re doing well, the midwife promised.

Ana was too drained to even try to believe her. She felt the ripple as another pain built, almost before the last had faded. She whimpered and reached for something – anything – to help her through.

Lady Jessina offered her hand. Ana squeezed. Jessina cried out, clutching her belly as she stumbled back, snatching her hand away. I – I felt it, she said in horror.

The midwife’s attention was on Ana. I can see baby’s head. When I say push, you push. No shouting and screaming, just push everything you have down between your legs. She glanced back at the older woman. Some women get an echo of their own labours when they see another woman going through it. She turned back to Ana. And ... push.

Ana gritted her teeth and did as she was told, even though it felt as though she must surely be torn apart. She pushed and pushed.

A glass set on the table close by shattered, Lady Jessina squeaking in alarm as shards flew everywhere.

Good girl, now pant.

Ana’s noisy breaths as she obeyed were eclipsed by a baby’s cries. She gasped, a grin splitting her face.

Lady Jessina stepped forward, sponging her face and neck with a damp cloth. She squeezed her hand in shared joy. Well done, Ana.

All well, the midwife confirmed. A healthy baby boy. Here.

She placed the tiny scrap of brand-new person into Ana’s arms. Ana stroked his cheek and his screams became a whimper. She looked down into her son’s bright eyes and her smile became a chuckle. He’s so beautiful, she whispered, her voice ragged.

Lady Jessina‘s hand settled on the child’s head, where dark fuzz the same colour as Garrow’s covered his scalp. He’s gorgeous, she murmured.

Willan. Ana looked up to meet her eyes. Garrow wanted his name to be Willan if we had a son.

Lady Jessina’s expression tightened. His grandfather.

Ana nodded. Garrow had told her the significance of the name. Willan yawned and she pressed a kiss to his tiny forehead. My precious boy, Willan. Your mamma loves you very much. She’ll always be there for you, I swear it. She hugged him close and felt the rightness of the words expand inside her. She loved Garrow, but that was a candle compared to sunlight. She would do anything for this beautiful boy; anything at all.

~

Willan was three months old when it all began to fall apart.

You never loved me the way you do him! Garrow spat the words, face red, gesturing to the child in her arms, his child in her arms.

Ana gaped. "He’s your son."

Garrow’s face twisted, his mouth becoming a sneer. Is he?

There was no air in her lungs. She had to gasp in a breath before she could speak. Of course he’s yours. Why would you doubt it? Through her hurt, disbelief prickled. Willan was the image of his father. Where did he think those dark curls had come from? Not from her straight, blonde head!

He took a step towards her and Ana wrapped her arms around Willan protectively.

You didn’t want me, you just wanted someone to look after you and your child.

Tears pricked and she blinked them back, reaching for anger instead of sorrow. How dare you? I loved you. She realised her mistake as soon as the words were spoken; saw that Garrow heard it, too. I love you, she corrected, although the dull hollowness in her heart told her it wasn’t true. Not any more. He resented every moment she spent with the baby – how could love survive that?

I don’t believe you ever did, Garrow told her, his tone hard. You never loved me. I was just a convenient fool who couldn’t see you for what you are.

You’re not a fool. Her thoughts span like a flock of frightened birds. Stop this, Garrow. Willan’s your son. He needs you.

Does he? Or do the pair of you just need a place to sleep and food in your belly and someone who won’t look too closely at the child?

Willan is your son. He’s the image of you. You can’t doubt it.

You know what I don’t doubt? His voice was low, his tone edged with something that sent fear skittering up her spine. I don’t doubt that you’re a witch. You enchanted me, and now I’ve seen through you.

The desire to laugh warred with the urge to scream. A witch! He couldn’t have picked anything more ridiculous. If she had the power to do magic, like the mages had done ... well, she wouldn’t be sitting here, fingers trembling. She forced her tone to be level. I’m not a witch, Garrow. I love you. She watched him, feeling a strange wrench in her heart. "I do love you. This is just ... adjustment. Please, don’t let us argue."

She saw the change on his face; the uncertainty. He shook his head, backing away. You’re a witch. You have to be. Because I wouldn’t love you if I were in my right mind.

Ana took a step, then stopped. She was too stunned to speak. Part of her wanted to hug him, but a sizeable part wanted to hit him. She watched him walk away and her thoughts picked up like autumn leaves carried by the wind. If her life with Garrow was ending, she needed to decide what she was going to do next.

~

It took a month for her to extricate herself from the family. A month of sinking into the background, trying not to be noticed. A month of enduring Garrow’s hostile glances and occasional explosions of anger.

She would have walked out immediately, but she feared they would take Willan from her, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. The loss of Garrow’s affection hurt, but Willan’s loss would be the end of her.

Finally, Lord Fen and Garrow departed for Muirland City, leaving the women behind for a week. It was a window of opportunity she couldn’t waste. Ana parcelled up everything she could reasonably carry and instead of retiring to bed on the first night she sneaked out of the house and back to her own tiny hut in the village.

She was fortunate, at least, that her old home hadn’t been occupied by someone else. It was dusty, but since it had only been empty for spring and summer that was the worst of matters. Ana sank onto her old bed with her son in her arms and stared into the darkness. She had no idea what would come next, but she would make a life for her and Willan. She had to.

Lady Jessina arrived before midday the next day. Ana watched her. From the window; she’d barred the door expecting pursuit, glad, at least, that she came alone.

Ana? With a smile, Lady Jessina stepped off the path until she was opposite the window where Ana held Willan on her hip.

Ana took a step back, as though the other woman might reach inside to snatch her grandson. I’m not coming back, she said. She swallowed. And nor is Willan. He belongs with me.

Of course he does.

I mean it. Willan will live with me now. Her jaw worked. Garrow doesn’t even believe he’s his.

Clucking her tongue, she shook her head. He’s a foolish young man. There can be no doubt of Willan’s paternity. I’m sorry you argued. You’re doing the right thing for your son, I understand that. She gave a rueful smile. I don’t want to be kept out of my grandson’s life because of my idiot of a son. Please, say you’ll allow me to visit?

Ana looked past her, expecting an ambush. But there was nothing.

Look. Lady Jessina held up her basket. I had cook make some honey biscuits. I know they’re your favourite. Can I come in and hold him? Just for a little while?

Ana swallowed. All her instincts were screaming no, and yet why should the poor woman have to suffer for what Garrow had done? The men hated her, that was clear, but Lady Jessina had been nothing but kind. I suppose.

Ana unbarred the door and let her inside. She roused the fire and made tea and they ate the biscuits and played with Willan and the few toys Ana had brought with her.

The other woman tutted. You’ll need more if you’re going to keep him occupied. I’ll parcel everything up and have it brought to you.

You will? I mean ... will Lord Fen allow it?

Lady Jessina patted her hand reassuringly. Leave him to me.

It was the start of an odd friendship. Lady Jessina visited every day, helping Ana with Willan while she tidied her home to be spick and span and got the garden back in order. As well as the promised toys for Willan, and the last of Ana’s own belongings, a steady stream of food and drink came from the hall. Ana was grateful. She was trying to earn a living with her needle once more, but raising her son single-handedly was harder than she’d imagined. She was grateful for all the help she could get.

And then, Ana fell ill.

It was gradual, at first. She was permanently tired, so it took a while to notice that her fatigue was increasing. But when nausea turned to vomiting it was impossible to ignore.

Lady Jessina fretted about the well water and suggested they move back to the big house, but Ana refused. The well had never caused problems before, and she wasn’t going to leave her home, not to return to Garrow; never that. She boiled the water but the nausea remained. A week later, weak from lack of food and lack of sleep, Ana consented to Lady Jessina taking Willan home with her, just for a few days, until Ana felt better.

She didn’t see her son again for months.

2 – Now

Rich people never share.

The notion flitted into Ana’s mind when she had to grab hold of the tangle grass on the verge to keep herself from sliding into a ditch. The carriage she’d jumped aside to make room for bowled past on the narrow road, the metal-framed wheels sending up a cloud of dust. The coachman urged the horses on without so much as a glance to acknowledge her sacrifice.

Ana coughed as she stepped back onto the road, her hand protective over the top of her basket. The carriage was already yards ahead, a cloud of brown dust keeping pace with it.

If it had been a porter’s cart she might have asked for a lift, but the fancy carriage would clearly pause for no one until it reached its destination. She brushed off her skirts and resumed her walk.

Rich people didn’t share. Once the idea had been thought it wouldn’t leave, rattling around Ana’s head with every footstep.

She knew it was true. Why else was she walking for an hour to see her son? Why else was she weighed down with the fear that she’d find the family once more away from home when she knocked on their door?

Most of the village had forgotten Ana was a mother, but that was the truth.

She looked too young for motherhood, although she had turned sixteen last week. Old enough to marry, although she wasn’t young or stupid enough to suppose that was still a possibility. At least, not with Garrow. Disappointment dug claws into her guts. He had only ever been toying with her. There had been love between them, but not on his side.

All that remained of that love was Willan, living proof of their relationship. And today, he was coming home with her. Hope warmed her heart, while fear clenched her belly. She had to take him home. But she couldn’t pretend that Garrow would make it easy for her.

If only she hadn’t fallen ill. She’d been relieved to hand Willan over to Garrow’s mother, but she hadn’t expected his absence to be so prolonged. Lady Jessina had been Ana’s ally against Garrow and his father, and she had to hope the other woman would help her today. It was the men who’d kept him away, she knew it.

She’d visited a month ago, hoping to take Willan back, but the family weren’t home. She would have camped on their doorstep, but she had a living to earn; time to make up from her illness.

Today, she would bring Willan home. Just the memory of her little boy made Ana’s heart lift. His chubby face, gummy smile; the way his eyes followed her around the room. If the family wasn’t at home, she would wait until they returned, all day and all night if that was what it took.

She’d celebrate his first birthday with them, because she could be generous even if they weren’t, and then she’d bring him back to the home she had made cosy and bright especially for him.

Her heart swelled. Her one-roomed cottage was immaculate. She’d cleaned it from top to bottom in preparation. Not that she expected it to stay immaculate. There was a basket with toys by the fireplace and she could imagine them scattered over the fireside rug as Willan played.

The cupboards were full of bottles and jars, a season’s worth of food prepared and stored. She knew she might have to prove how ready she was before Garrow’s family would consider her well enough to resume the responsibility of caring for her boy.

Her fingers around the handle of the basket grew slippery and she re-adjusted her grip. Sweat prickled along her spine, the spring day promising that summer was just around the corner. By contrast, cold clawed at her insides. Lady Jessina was one thing; Garrow was entirely another.

When she’d first arrived in the village, Garrow’s wealth had been a good thing; a protection he was happy to extend to her. It had taken away so many of her worries. But now it was adding to them. With money came power and influence; the ability to bend the world to fit what you wanted.

And Garrow no longer wanted her – but it seemed he did want Willan.

It wasn’t as though she had other friends to appeal to for support. She was alone. Ana was the outsider, the orphaned newcomer. She had never got the chance to fit in to village life, because she’d barely arrived before Garrow had swept her off her feet, after which time she’d spent as long at his house as her own.

She had no friends in the village. That was something she would need to mend. Willan would help with that; babies were great for drawing people together. And Lady Jessina would surely remain an ally. She was in love with Willan, too; she would want to ensure a cordial relationship with Ana so she could still see her grandson when he returned home.

Ana hurried between woodland on one side and fields growing potta and beans on the other. Garrow’s home grew slowly closer. The family occupied a huge manor built at the top of the hill, looking down over the village and the fields and the wood beyond, land that the family mostly owned.

When he’d cared, Garrow would sit at the window and watch her draw near, even though she’d mostly be an indistinguishable dot. Ana huffed. It was a long time since Garrow had cared enough to watch her walk to him, even longer since he’d hurried to meet her partway.

Ana squinched her eyes closed at the memories of their last days; the venom he’d screamed at her, words of hate pouring into her ears where so recently they’d been words of love.

Witch. That had hurt. As though a woman with magic would live in the smallest hut at the edge of the village, taking in mending for pennies! If she were truly a witch she’d be dressed in silks and satins, sitting in a grand, carved chair in her huge home, her coffers filled with gold she’d conjured from nothing. She wouldn’t be trudging along a dusty road to claim back her son.

She wiped at an itch on her cheek, surprised to find her face wet.

It was foolish of her to think the first boy she had ever loved could be her forever love, but his words still hurt. She sniffed and wiped her face. She wouldn’t arrive with tears on her cheeks. It was an unwelcome surprise to discover the memory of Garrow still had the power to hurt her, and she didn’t plan to let him know that was the case.

Ana swapped the basket onto her other arm and hurried up the tree-lined driveway. Her heart lifted, a leftover habit, even though she knew Garrow wouldn’t be waiting eagerly to sweep her into his arms and press tender kisses to her lips. Garrow’s love or hate no longer mattered; the prize waiting for her this time was far more precious.

She frowned when the manor house came into sight. In front of the broad, stone entrance sat three carriages. Her heart lurched. One was the fancy carriage that had passed her on the road earlier. She should have flagged it down and asked for a lift, if