Lightless preview

Since Amazon’s Look Inside! feature doesn’t activate until the ebook and paperback are officially out, here’s the first part of the opening scene:

 

From the balcony of his prison, Fulsa watched the chariots streak through the sky.

At this distance it was impossible to distinguish one from another or guess who might be winning—it was impossible to see chariots at all. Only balls of light trailing across the darkness, gliding into accidental constellations as teams pulled ahead and fell behind, collided and swerved.

It was a simple training run, preparation for the upcoming race, but even so Fulsa could sense the energy, the starfire streaming off the horses, the anticipation.

Two days until the festival. He, too, ought to have been out there patterning galaxies in the sky with the other drivers. And instead—

“Your Highness?” Phaios’s quiet voice drifted from the shadows, as insubstantial as the speaker. “The empress has arrived.”

Already Fulsa was halfway across the room, nerves coursing around his stomach while he unbuttoned his thick shirt and tossed it on a nearby chair. Immediately the room grew lighter, and desperate hope fired in his heart despite the chill skittering over his skin. Perhaps he was brightening after all. Perhaps his nightmare was finally over.

He slid a sheer coat across his shoulders and then studied his arms. Here in this secluded tower with only Phaios for company, he had no way to determine whether there was any difference in their glow, any further dimming. Compared to the lightless slave he always looked radiant, so bright he could almost forget what was happening, and then the empress would visit and he’d see just how quickly his dignity and worth were seeping out of his skin.

A last glance out the window while he clenched his fists and rocked from toe to heel in time with his racing heartbeat. Another last glance toward Phaios, whose silent nod was more steadying than any words.

Then he knelt before the entryway and waited.

Aithra’s footsteps were mere tps on the polished stone, her presence announced instead by the brilliance which preceded her up the staircase, pressing away the shadows with proud disdain and careless ease.

“Your Majesty.”

Her gossamer coat rustled softly, scattering specks of light like jewels for the less fortunate. Even knowing how much of it was unnatural, he envied her splendor. To have so much light to shed…

“Fulsa.”

His mother’s voice was a tapestry of emotions. Disinterest and acknowledgement, shame and approval, resentment and affection, all woven together so intricately that Fulsa could never discern how she truly felt. If only he could pick apart those threads…retreat far enough to see the whole…

But when he rose, it was to meet an expression as neutral as her tone. Her blue eyes examined him a long moment before she strode into the room, snapping her riding crop at Phaios as she passed.

Fulsa winced but kept his usual silence—now more than ever he could not afford the empress’s ire, and when she caught him watching Phaios retreat from her aura, he rolled his shoulders back and raised his chin.

“And still,” his mother said without preamble, “no improvement. I daresay it’s worse than ever.”

His stomach lurched, his proud posture collapsed, and the last of his foolish, nervous hope trailed away like the very glow that was abandoning him. Worse than ever, less than ever…

He swallowed, seeking something brave to say, but managed only to rasp, “Doctor Candas?”

“Nothing.” She pulled a small, cream-colored pendant from around her neck and held it out. “She continues to insist there is no explanation. Nor yet,” she added, frown deepening when he did not accept the necklace, “a cure.”

He took it at last, forcing himself not to look at Phaios or think about the source of the light within the charm. Not a cure, just a temporary solution until the doctor—until anyone—could fix him. Between his fingers the smooth stone grew warm, and a glorious heat spread through his limbs. His aura widened into the darkness.

 

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