Page 1 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

Part One

Eddies and Lost Luck

Chapter One

Emmeline

Emmeline DeLeoste stood at the base of the Valyn Temple, stared up at the panther staining the glass of the twelfth window high above, and cursed the Fate it represented.

All her life, Emmeline had been taught to revere the Fates but not blindly. No, her mother had instilled the power the celestial beings held over the Starsearcher warrior clan into Emmeline’s head during the too few years they had together. She’d taught her to harness her abundant magic but not to bow to it.

Not to fear it.

Emmeline knew the strength her Fate ties granted her, found comfort in it when she had nothing else reliable for nearly twenty years⁠—

Flashes of silver streaked through the seeing chamber, a web of starlight bursting as she dove in.

“How many Fate ties do you really have, Emmeline?”

“Eleven.”

Roremar gripped her tighter as the chamber exploded, the blast ricocheting through her bones, pulling at her magic.

“Don’t you see you’ve already ruined me?”

“When I go, tell the stars about me, Emmeline. Because I’ll sure as Spirits tell them about you.”

“Kiss me, Roremar.”

“Now I won’t rest until I get you back.”

The memories slammed into her one after another as she stared up at the stained-glass panther, each moment from that day on Lyra a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. They’d plagued her in the three weeks since. Not one hour had passed where she didn’t think about Roremar’s lips on hers or how she’d broken down every last wall and revealed every secret to save him.

Not one moment where she didn’t wonder where in the realms he was or what punishment he was enduring after being blamed for murders he didn’t commit.

If he was still alive⁠—

No. She shook away that thought as she glared daggers at the panther on the twelfth window.

It was all his fault. Dryvius, the Fate of Chaos and Revelry the image stood for, was the one to blame. He had used Roremar as his puppet to kill innocent women. To kill his own brother, all for some ritual they still didn’t understand.

But Roremar was alive. She needed to believe that was true and that she could find him if she was going to survive here.

In Valyn.

Emmeline turned her back on the stained glass and faced the city. From the top of the temple steps, she had a view of one of the many busy capital streets. Not that she knew the names of any of them. The week she’d spent here so far had been a blur.

This. This was where she’d fought to be for years. To get to this city on the continent and begin her hunt for her sister who’d been kidnapped over twenty years ago by the network of temple traders.

This was why Roremar had told her to let him go at the end. So she could fulfill this mission.

She had to.

Emmeline’s gaze followed the wide cobblestone street. The temple was the largest place of worship in the city, with both private Archives and the Valyn Temple Academy attached to it.

Starsearchers rushed every which way, hopping between market stalls lining the opposite side of the street. Each vendor bore something different, from hand-blown glassware to jewelry, freshly pressed incense to poured candles, triple-bladed daggers to local artists’ work. Shop owners called to their friends and haggled over prices with boisterous laughs, and the tavern in the alley across the way overflowed with warriors raising their glasses, purple and blue banners strung overhead.

As she stood atop the steps, Emmeline tried to commit every detail to memory, organizing the little pieces of her new city—of her new home—in her mind.