Throne of Blood and Shadow

By Lexa Hartwell

Astriea Blake only ever knew loss and emptiness.

As the apprentice to the great Mountain Spy, she felt perfectly content slicing and lying her way through Shadon. Her oldest friend, Thomas, by her side.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lexa Hartwell
• Release date: Jun 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088172995

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Lexa Hartwell

Throne of Blood and Shadow

Copyright © 2022 by Lexa Hartwell

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

Lexa Hartwell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

First edition

ISBN: 9798423956653

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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To every version of myself that I became and let die

in order to get here.

Foreword

1

Astriea

Ash. Everything always smelled like ash. Astriea Blake strutted down the crumbled streets of the mountain town she grew up in, Monolith. Named after the tallest point of The Caltilion Mountains—Monolith’s Peak.

Glancing up, Astriea released a half-smile, noticing the massive oak tree towering over the remnants of what used to be a lovely city.

When she was young, she would climb that tree to the top and see that most of the land in Shadon was barren and dry and, again, reeked of ash. But the flat-lands came to an abrupt halt at the mountain’s feet. An entire wall of peaks and jagged edges of rock. Some already covered with snow.

Few people had been through here and survived the mountain’s sharp, rocky terrain or bone-chilling cold. They were indeed treacherous, but not for Astriea.

Her dark cloak did its best to hide her stinging blue eyes and her long waves of raven black hair being tossed by the wind. Weathered and worn from years of use, her dusty cloak also could not hide the curves of her hips or how they swayed with every step she took. New cloaks weren’t easy to come by these days. Or any day. Not since the war of the old gods ravaged most of the world. That’s what they had always been told, but only Shadon’s most holy priests were allowed access to any information regarding it. All they knew was that there had been gods and goddesses for every aspect of existence: Rala, Goddess of the sea, and her twin, Tala, Goddess of earth and plants. Hellion, God of the sun and all things that burn.

There were many others that she couldn’t remember. Technically, they weren’t supposed to know about most of them, but her mother had always known things she shouldn’t and taught Astriea as much as she could.

But there was a goddess that everyone knew of well.

Zaniah. Goddess of magic, life, and the stars. She was the only one to carry so much power, and when the priests visited the town in Astriea’s childhood, they told them how Zaniah had been driven insane by it. She murdered the other gods in a frenzy of rage and madness before the priests had bound her to the pyre and burned her. The world left ravaged and barren of all magic.

Shadon didn’t seem to improve even in the thousand years since. Astriea was born years after, of course, her parents and grandparents too. Her mother would tell her fantastical tales about her grandmother’s beautiful garden, filled with roses, lilies, tulips, and an assortment of others. Of green grass, trees full of life, and the smell of mint that would tickle her nose every time she entered that garden. She knew that her mother had been telling her beautiful stories to brighten dark days. And her mother was beautiful to match it. Astriea looking like her near image.

Atara Blake had rich golden-brown skin that shined in the sun like amber jewels from a dragon’s hoard. Her hair was like soft black silk. Not that Astriea had ever felt anything like that. But if silk was as soft as the nobles said, her mother’s hair was even more so.

She pulled her own long, thick strands over her shoulder and played with them while she strolled.

Well, stalked.

She shook her head, tossing away her lingering thoughts.

The figure that walked a few paces ahead of her was a nobleman. One of the King’s lucky few that had been graced with a title, lands, and enough money to flaunt glittering gold and other riches in front of the rest of them. He wasn’t dressed as he usually did though, as he had for the past two weeks that Astriea had spied on him. Rodrick Hamson, Lord of Lilith’s peak—another entry to the Caltilion Mountains, was only a hundred miles south of Monolith, and while the young spy followed in his shadows, she discovered he was in town for most terrible things.

Astriea kept walking along the street, passing by remnants of old stores. Nothing but rubble now.

Don’t think about this right now. She reminded herself.

Where the hell is Thomas?

Thomas had been her best friend for years, her partner in crime and all things bloody, but things were very different now, and she didn’t have anyone to blame but herself.

Probably left. Like he should have done years ago.

A vile, grimy voice whispered in her mind. She’d been dealing with those intrusive thoughts for years now. It felt like they were rotting her from the inside out.

Quiet, you pest. She thought back, shaking her head.

But Thomas was still her Sword, and he should have been here?

Sorry, Thomas. Time’s up. She whispered to herself as she followed Hamson and rounded the corner into an alley on the left.

Astriea drew her dual daggers from their sheaths strapped to her thighs, just before hearing Hamson scream. It was only a moment of a muffled cry, because there was Thomas. No weapons drawn, just his large hands on him.

He was behind Hamson with one hand over his mouth and the other wrapped around the back of his head. Astriea rolled her eyes and put her daggers away. Thomas only looked up at her while Hamson fought for his life against him. It did nothing though.

Thomas Cartwright was at least five inches taller than him, and Hamson was thrashing against him like a minnow, trying to escape a shark. He smiled at her quickly. A teasing grin that bore a thought that Astriea could read all too well.

You thought I’d be late, didn’t you?

It was then that he pulled, snapping Hamson’s neck.

Thomas didn’t even blink, just let his body fall to the ground, then proceeded to dust off his hands and pull back the hood of his cloak.

His black hair was longer now. He’d kept it short for most of their lives, but had been growing it out since the incident. It’d been almost a year’s worth of growth, and the soft black waves shaped the clean-cut features of his face. His eyes were the real kicker though. They were blue, but not like hers. Thomas had deep blue eyes that soothed and destroyed her like a raging storm at sea.

Seems you were going to handle it yourself. He said to her. She just brushed past him.

You know why I shouldn’t, Thomas. She breathed out as she searched Hamson’s lifeless body for something. Finally, she pulled a key from his cloak’s inside pocket. Thomas said nothing though; he just stood there and waited.

When she rose, he followed her to a cellar at the end of the alley. Astriea knelt, turned the key inside the lock, and flung the doors open. It was dark inside the small cellar, so Thomas tore a piece of cloth from his worn white shirt and wrapped it around a large stick before lighting it on fire.

They slowly descended inside, with the torch’s golden light leading their way. Astriea stopped suddenly, raising her hand to stop Thomas. He did, just as her fingers grazed his chest.

Then she listened.

Do you hear that?

He leaned toward her. There were small, whimpered whispers coming from somewhere. They nodded to each other and stepped forward.

When they entered the room at the end of the cellar’s entry, it illuminated. There were at least twenty young girls sitting on the floor—no, chained to it. They crouched in the dirt in filthy rags. Their faces were bloodied and bruised, and Astriea’s own blood felt like it was boiling under her skin.

They look no older than thirteen. Thomas said.

The girls didn’t say anything to them. Only sat there and waited for whatever blow they thought was coming.

Astriea pushed Thomas down by his shoulder, pulled his broadsword from his back, and swung it hard. The blade crashed into the floor and shattered the central link of old chains that kept them pinned to the ground. The girls screamed as she did it, but they were silent when they saw what she had done.

Lord Hamson is dead. Let’s get you out of here. She said to them, kneeling and extending her hand to a girl that could have only been ten at the most.

Astriea helped the girl up after she slid her small, broken fingers into her hand. The rest wobbled to their feet like none had walked or stood in weeks.

The King, One croaked out. The King is expecting a new shipment of girls. If we aren’t brought to the castle, he’ll come for us. Or send his sentries.

Astriea and Thomas’s gazes caught.

Let us worry about King Herold,

Just the thought of King Herold Berelda made Astriea cringe. She hated him. More than anything, she hated the King of Shadon. This was his fault—all of it.

What does he want with you? She continued. There was never usually an answer, but this time felt different. She didn’t really even want to ask, but the words felt plucked from her lips.

He’s demanded the Lords of all Shadon’s territories bring any female who might be capable of magic to the east. Lord Hamson said that we were a different batch, that we would be brought to the capital instead. The girl hesitated, but spoke again. We are to be marked as witches, and our lives made forfeit.

Witches? Thomas shouted, more than asked. The girl winced at the sound. Thomas flinched at what he did, but cradled out a hand to the small girl and smiled.

My mother told me that witches are the protectors of those who cannot protect themselves. That they were blessed by the Gods and that mortals were their charges. The girl’s face softened slightly, and she took his hand. Witches are not the evil things the King would have you believe they are. The witches will come back to protect us one day, and I will be honored if I get to see it. Thomas’ warm and loving words made her heart feel settled for a moment. All those young girls gave him sheepish smiles as one asked, You’re Telish?

Thomas’s accent was mostly washed away from his years spent in Shadon, but every now and then it became distinct enough to remind Astriea that he been born in Telas, the country and continent across the North Sea.

Thomas nodded his head. Aye, I was seven when my brother brought me to Shadon. To Monolith.

Come on, Astriea said, nodding her head to the exit. Let’s get you somewhere safe and some food in your bellies. She looked at Thomas.

Are you sure? Another cellar?

Have any other secret bases to hide them in? she retorted.

He just shrugged his shoulders and led them outside, past the Lord’s limp body and down the dark alleys.

2

Thomas

Nothing like other women he knew.

As much as he wished the women here wouldn’t sell him off to the highest bidder, that’s just how it was in Shadon. Coin and survival were just more important than love or passion in a land so dark. There were a few that weren’t terrible, some that he’d tried to find common ground with and even fall in love. And while he could’ve just abandoned the notion of love, he didn’t. He didn’t want to bind himself to someone that could never understand him fully.

And it would have been selfish to be with someone he couldn’t love completely. It would be wrong to try and look at someone else with the same eyes he gazed at Astriea with.

She had never been quite like anyone else.

His brother had thought she was just another orphan when Thomas had brought her home. To their shack anyway. It was just after her parents were killed and only when Raja, her guardian, was away on a mission, but Draes raised them together. He was a good man. A fourteen-year-old, raising two eight-year-olds and even doing his best to keep Thomas contained as he’d fallen in love with Astriea at sixteen. But that had started the moment he’d met her.

She was the missing piece of his puzzle, and whether or not she knew it, he would follow her anywhere. But she was so confusing and frustrating and since they had fought last year, since Draes went missing. Things had been strained.

Witch hunters? Again? He whispered as they turned into a dark cluster of abandoned buildings. The witch camps were a genuine fear for the women in Shadon. Any female could be accused of being a witch. For an unspeakable number of reasons. His friend David had a little sister taken by the Monolith witch hunters fifteen years ago. The horror stories they heard about their camps made his skin crawl and his chest hot.

It seems so. I also don’t need to remind you, Thomas, that this is the fourth batch of girls we’ve released in as many months. The King himself might make a special trip to Monolith to ensure the next ones make it to the capitol.

He looked at her curiously. Are you saying that because you’re worried about the rebellion’s safety? Or because there’s a chance the King will be in your grasp?

Her bright icy blue eyes shot to his. Nearly glowing in their world of darkness. She was stunning, even with that furious look on her face. Her tan skin shined even draped in shadow, her sharp jawline came to a delicate point in her chin and the little freckles splashed across her cheeks and dainty nose nearly made Thomas swoon. Her gaze threatened to burn him from the inside out.

She punched him in the arm with no warning. Just jabbed him as hard as she could.

Gods Astriea! He said in a shouted whisper, clutching his arm. I get it! Of course you’re worried about the rebellion’s safety! He trailed behind her as they continued. It would be a lot easier to kill the bastard if he were in town though.

She just nodded her agreement and opened another cellar door.

As the two of them led the girls down dimly lit stairs, they finally came into what Thomas always thought resembled the pubs back in Telas—his homeland across the Northern Sea. There were round tables scattered around the room with wooden barrels to sit on. A run-down bar with six stools lined down it, although he had little faith in their stability. There were even shelves at the back that no doubt held wines and ales at one time. In Shadon, it was forbidden for certain towns to have alcohol or anything else that helped numb them from this world, and to disobey the king was treason punishable by death.

He never knew why his brother moved them to the west. King Herold had decreed that they could not trust the people with such delicacies though, and hoarded things of finery at his castles, only allowing the major cities to have them. As for Monolith? Very illegal.

Thomas and Astriea carried on, leading the girls into the room anyway, where Raja waited for them.

3

Astriea

Astriea knew so many of the people that flowed into the cellar with food, water, bandages, and clothes. The Pearsons, The Johnsons, even Raja had known her since she was a child and all of them had done what they could for her after her parents died. Raja was the rebellion’s leader, and the rebellion was her parent’s life work. They died for it. For the people of Shadon.

Raja was kind and strong. This mountain of a man indeed had the kindest of hearts. After the death of his daughter, Alyea, he dedicated his life to fighting against the King. Hence, meetings held in hidden cellars.

Alyea passed just before Astriea’s birth, at just under a year old. Raja had tried to get his family out of Shadon when their ship went down in the southern sea and only he survived.

But he made sure Astriea saw beauty in the world. Some of her fondest memories were of him teaching her how to catch fireflies during summer nights, feeding her soup when she had Tali fever, or the stories he told every night before bed. But Astriea would never forget the friendship he shared with her father. They were best friends, and Raja swore a vow that he would train his friend’s only child before he died. To make her strong and fearless. And with each passing year—the king’s justice claiming more lives—Raja grew more silent, but never cold. Astriea knew he cared for her like a daughter, even though his grief and shame of not being able to protect his wife and daughter would never let him admit it.

It’s not like you even deserve his love, any of them. Astriea growled quietly and shook her head again.

There was nothing said about bringing the girls here. The rebellion simply took care of them, fed them, cleaned them, and held them tight. Raja wasn’t even supposed to be here. He was supposed to be halfway through the Caltilion Mountains by now. Trying to find them a route to the ocean, a way out of Shadon.

Ah! Our fearless leader has returned! Astriea called to Raja. A loving smile widened across his aging face.

"Do tell us of your adventures, great Mountain Spy!" she laughed as she embraced Raja in a hug.

Raja was handsome for his age. His black hair was streaked with gray and his dark brown eyes made her feel at home.

No adventures to tell of this time, I’m afraid. And it is you that should start bearing that title, considering my upcoming retirement! Raja laughed back at her.

For as much as Raja was filled with kindness, he was also a skilled spy. Raja had taught Astriea, Thomas and Draes how to manipulate the shadows.

"I think if I assume your mantle, I would much rather be Shari." Astriea popped back and giggled slightly at the sarcastic wariness in Raja’s expression.

Shari was known as an old minor goddess that noble warriors prayed to for protection in the mountains. The Goddess who could become one with the mountain.

Shari, the watchful eye of Shadon.

"Very well, Shari, then you are prepared for the meeting tomorrow?"

Meeting? She asked, shocked. When did you call a meeting? Trying to hide that she’d choked on her drink.

The moment you two stepped out of that cellar with those girls. He said with a smile. She only looked at him with confusion, but she’d learned after all these years to just not question it. So, she just nodded and put on a closed lipped smile.

As easily as Astriea could disappear, Raja had to have been born of it. Like the shadows bent to her, but bowed to him. She’d been so careful about getting the girls here, and he’d seen them.

Some will shelter here, and others have safe houses in town. Will you be staying as well? He asked both her and Thomas.

Let the others have my room. I can find somewhere for the night.

Thomas shifted a little and Raja nodded before turning away.

"Come on then, I’m not letting you sleep in a tree or run back to an old lover." He said the last word with a bit of a bite.

She followed behind him back up the stairs, one girl kissing her hand as she passed. She smiled and nodded her head to her, then continued.

You certainly are one to talk. Who will be at your cabin Thomas? Marigold? Rowena? She snapped back at him.

He stopped when he stepped out of the cellar and into the alley. Then whirled to her, about to speak, maybe shout, but she stopped him.

If you can so casually throw my lovers in my face, then don’t get emotional when I do the same Thomas.

Fury roared in his eyes, but quickly died out, like the anger wasn’t worth holding on to.

I’ll find somewhere else. I won’t be somewhere I’m not wanted. She pushed past him, but he gently grabbed her arm and tugged her against him.

He said nothing, he just stood there. So very close to her. Astriea felt heat rising from deep in her chest. Heat that excited and scared her.

"You are always wanted with me, Starlight." He breathed, brushing his nose against hers. Nudging her to lift her lips to his. It made the air in her chest halt.

Don’t call me that. She whispered back, her heart barreling into her stomach.

Absolutely not, I refuse. He said with a little laugh that made her giggle. She immediately hated herself for it.

He softly placed a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to his. She wanted the storm in them to wash her away.

She knew Thomas cared for her, loved her, but she shoved those thoughts away for another time.

Astriea pulled away from him, his smile dying as her hands left his.

They walked on to Thomas’s cabin just on the other side of the mountain’s entrance. The coldest wind pounded against them as they walked into the split walls of dark gray rock. The snowstorm would soon reach the town. By the time she woke tomorrow, there would be a soft sheet of snow for what was left of the children in Monolith to play in.

After pushing through the wind and the oncoming storm—passing through winding canals of cold stone—they arrived at the cabin.

Before Astriea could set down her sword on the table next to the door, Thomas had fire going in the hearth. The warmth of it filled the room quickly.

Your room is just how you left it. He mumbled, still prodding the fire with an iron poker.

She only nodded her head and set off to her room. It was just down a short hall, and right next to Thomas’s. The old wooden bed was barely being held together by vines and whatever other binding she and Thomas could find when they were eight. The sheets were a little dusty, but better than sleeping in this storm. It was still the small depressing hobble it had always been.

The house was so much warmer before Draes disappeared. He just vanished. Like smoke in the wind and no trace to be found. She’d spent an entire night holding Thomas in this bed, while he mourned his brother. Spent more than a few in front of the hearth that he was no doubt still poking at. So many nights, had they wrapped in blankets and told each other stories on the couch, thankful to be wrapped in the fire’s warmth.

Astriea sat down on the old creaking bed and looked at the broken window that Thomas had since patched. She had thrown a boot at him. He’d ducked just in time, and she still remembered the burning blue flames of fury in his eyes after it had flown past his head and through her window. The cabin had been unbearably cold for weeks because of it. She let out a deep breath before lying her head upon the pillow and letting oblivion sweep over her.

Back in the cellar, everyone had finally been seated when Raja made his way to the broken podium at the front of the room.

Everyone that Astriea and Thomas had grown up with was in this room. Honestly, it seemed a little grand for the bust. It was a big win, but they’d had bigger before and not this many people ever came. The crowd in the cramped cellar grew gravely quiet. All eyes were on Raja now.

He took a deep breath.

King Herold has taken much from us. He claims to search for the child of prophecy. And while many do not believe, the king himself has declared a new hand. Willa the Oracle. Raja paused only for a moment as the cellar came alive with whispers.

The Oracle has claimed that The Chosen will make their presence known. That the prophecy itself will not allow The Chosen to be found. Raja paused again and gave Astriea a grim look before he continued.

But Willa has commanded the guards to search for something. A talisman of dark magic. As the words fell from his mouth, crowds of whispers turned to shouts of blasphemy.

Madness!

There is no such thing as magic! It died long ago, along with the mad goddess!

They were right. Astriea’s confusion was raised to new heights. First the girls in the cellar told them that the king wanted them for magical ability and now this? There was no magic in this world, and everyone knew that. The Child of Prophecy and The Chosen were children’s stories about the old gods. They had been told around campfires and speeches were made to rally some rebel groups, but never did anyone consider them to be real. Rebels still prayed to Zaniah for guidance and strength. Still held onto the hope that the propaganda they’d been fed was all a lie. But others believed the gods were long since dead and wiped from existence. Though, not even the King of Shadon could keep believers from whispering about Zaniah’s horrid death and the rise of her heir:

With fire in her breath,

Zaniah bellowed from the flames.

For her heir to follow with vengeance.

To break the onyx chains.

Listen. Raja howled in