Page 4 of Princess of Death

I sat upright on my bed on the bottom bunk and stared at the door. We were underneath the deck, without windows, just the lantern for light, so I couldn’t determine if it was day or night.

My clothes were dry now, and so was my hair. The salt from the ocean gave my strands waves and volume. My skin was still cold to the touch, either from the shock or the breeze. The rest of the crew was still asleep, exhausted from battling the storm for over a day straight. The others must have been thrown off and were now buried deep in the sea.

I quietly left the cabin through the hatch and stood on the deck, which was slightly slanted from where we’d landed on the rocks. It was daytime, but there was no sun, only a sea of fog so heavy that it masked the surroundings. I looked over the edge to the rocks below and realized the tide was low—so we were stuck there.

There must be damage to the hull below, and being propped on the rocks was what stopped us from sinking. It was good fortune that we’d crashed here because we all would have died if we’d had to combat that storm for much longer. Now, we could repair the ship and ride the tide when it returned.

I moved to the other railing and looked inland, seeing the hazy outline of dead trees with desiccated branches. The details of this strange place were hidden from me, but I could feel its treachery. It seemed abandoned, and if anyone resided here, they were probably unfriendly.

All we had to do was stay quiet, repair the ship, and then leave.

I pulled out the compass my father had given me, an image of a black dragon on the back—Khazmuda, my guardian if something were ever to happen to my mother and father. Most people hadhuman godparents, but my father entrusted my life to no one except the dragon he’d been fused with for fifty years.

I opened the compass and tried to gauge my position.

North was to the left. South was to the right. And east was straight ahead.

Which meant I’d gone west…in the exact direction my father had warned me not to go.

He’d told me there was a dead island in the middle of the sea, the most dangerous place he’d ever set foot in his time as a pirate. It was the one place he’d forbidden me to go, told me to avoid at all costs.

And somehow, I’d ended up there…like it was fate.

Chills crept up my spine and froze my limbs. My heart beat differently, the adrenaline thickening my blood. I knew the sword and could fight a man, but I couldn’t fight someone who even my father feared.

If only we’d sailed south, we could have avoided this…

I felt like a terrified mouse in the grass, knowing the best way to stay hidden was not to move, not to breathe. To go unnoticed by whatever hunted me from the trees. Once the crew was awake, we’d repair the ship and leave at the first chance, even if that meant we had to sail in the dark.

Lily Rothschild.

My boots had been rooted to the deck, but the sound of the voice in my head made me stumble. It came from everywhere all at once, loud the way Khazmuda’s and Zehemoth’s voices were. ButI knew the source wasn’t a dragon, not when I couldn’t feel their mind through the mist.

I didn’t know who this was—but I was afraid.

You shouldn’t have come here.

PROLOGUE I

LILY

My father was dressed in his trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, abandoning his king’s uniform and his sword. Instead, he carried a pack over his shoulder and wore a dagger at his hip. It was a cool day, the fog lingering because of the lack of heat in this bone-chilling winter. “Ready,Zunieth?”

I packed my bag the way my father had taught me. It contained my canteen, matches, dried meat and nuts, and my dagger. “I’m always ready, Dad.”

The corner of his lip ticked up in a smile. “That’s what I like to hear.” He took my bag from my shoulder and checked it to make sure it was properly prepared for our journey before he returned it. “Good job.”

My mother came through the doors, arms crossed and her eyes sharp as the dagger my father carried. “Is this really necessary, Talon?”

“Yes.” He didn’t look at her right away, trying to avoid the sting of her stare.

She came closer, approaching my father as an enemy rather than a wife. “You won’t be able to see in the fog.”

“That’s the point.”

“She’s only ten?—”

“She needs to know this, Calista.” His tone had been happy a moment ago, but now it darkened, and he spoke to her in a way I rarely ever heard him do. They didn’t raise their voices and shout, but this was clearly a battle.

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