Treason: Book Two of the Grimoire Saga (a Young Adult Fantasy series)

Book Two of the Grimoire Trilogy

A Novel by S.M. Boyce

For Mom and Dad.

Better parents don’t exist. Thank you for supporting and loving me through every twist and turn.

“Boyce has killer talent and a writing voice that rivals any New York Times megastar. The Grimoire Trilogy, quite simply, is awesome.”
—NIKKI JEFFORD, author of the Spellbound Trilogy

“Once again, I found myself plummeting into the world of Ourea. Although I really enjoyed reading
 
Lichgates
, I loved
 
Treason
... Some of the twists are just amazing, and I can't wait to read
 
Heritage
. Boyce, you need to write faster.”
—CHRISTIE RICH, author of the Elemental Enmity series

Ourea has always been a deadly place. The lichgates tying the hidden world to Earth keep its creatures at bay—for now.

Kara Magari ignited a war when she stumbled into Ourea and found the Grimoire: a powerful artifact filled with secrets. To protect the one person she has left, she strikes a deal that goes against everything she believes in. But things don’t go as planned.

Braeden Drakonin can no longer run from who—and what—he is. He has to face the facts. He’s a prince. He’s a murderer. He’s a wanted man. And after a betrayal that leaves him heartbroken, he’s out for blood.

To survive, both Kara and Braeden must become the evil each has grown to hate.

In the hidden world of Ourea, there are too many beautiful places to name: rose-covered cliffs tower miles over the valleys and forests below, cities thrive in submerged ecosystems beneath the sea, and the dragons that once ruled volcanoes are now but fossils in a cave. The creatures of human myth flourish in Ourea. Trees are this world’s skyscrapers. Magic is its currency. And while the rest of Earth forgot what it means to dream big, Ourea kept alive its wonder.

At least, that’s how Kara saw it.

She sat on a ledge in a cave, a dozen feet or so above an indoor river littered with rapids. Green sunlight poured through a crack in the ceiling, its rays tainted green from the branches which blocked her view of the sun. The light danced across the river, illuminating the white foam that splattered into the air as the water rushed by below.

Kara dangled her legs over the edge, listening to the chorus of water roaring through the cave. The ledge on which she sat served as a catwalk through the cavern. Several more ledges lined both sides of the cave, but she hadn’t yet figured out how to get to them. She stared up at the ledge ten feet above her, her eyes following the natural walkway until she came across a missing chunk a few yards off. Maybe she could climb that someday, but all she wanted now was to relax.

Her ledge wound around a bend in the cavern wall and toward a waterfall that fed the river. Behind the waterfall was a flight of stone stairs that led to a dirt trail, which curved through a forest for about a mile before it opened out into the Vagabond’s village—her village. And there, somewhere in the myriad of empty houses and vacant rooms, Braeden was probably starting to realize she’d ditched their sparring practice for the day.

Kara eyed her satchel, which lay empty against the cave wall. Flick—the red, teleporting ball of fur that he was—was out and about exploring the cave. The Xlijnughl—she’d spent an hour with the Grimoire before she could pronounce it properly as
Zyl-LEYN-guhl
—could find trouble anywhere, so she hoped he would stay close. She would just have to keep an eye out for him.

Her stomach growled. She glanced through the tree branches above to take a guess at the time, but she couldn’t even see the sun through the leaves. As much as she wanted to believe Braeden wouldn’t find her little haven, she knew better. Braeden could track anything. That prince could track a month-old trail if he wanted. There was no escaping him, not that she would ever really want such a thing. Not after all he’d done for her.

She sighed and leaned her head against the cave wall. Pebbles broke off as she pushed against it, so she grabbed one as it fell and chucked it over the edge.

Braeden had guarded her while she visited the yakona kingdoms. He’d helped her bring them together, in a loose sense of the word. He’d saved her life when she fled Hillside. She shuddered—her brush with Gavin had been too close. He’d tried to trick her into wearing a poisoned tiara that would have made her his slave.

She scoffed. None of this even sounded real. This
world
couldn’t be real. She would wake up from her coma any day now. That had to be it. A secret world hidden beneath the human race’s collective nose couldn’t be real.

Right?

“You scrunch your eyebrows when you’re lost in thought.”

She blinked her eyes back into focus. Braeden sat next to her, even though she hadn’t even heard him on his way across the ledge.

He watched her with that half-cocked grin of his. Black hair framed his face, longer now than when she’d first met him a couple months ago. A few beads of sweat rolled down his temple, tracing his olive skin in a pattern she wanted to mimic with her finger. His dark eyes caught her in their gaze, and she forgot how to breathe for a moment.

“No, don’t stop. It’s cute,” he said.

She laughed and punched his shoulder. He teetered and reached for her, grinning as if he was about to pull her over with him, only to scoot a little closer once he righted himself. Though he would never throw her off a cliff, Kara pulled her feet onto the platform all the same once he started laughing, too.

“You shouldn’t push people who are sitting on ledges, you know,” he said with a wink.

Kara smiled. “You’d heal instantly.”

He nudged her shoulder. “Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Well, I’m sorry then.”

“Ungracious apology accepted.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. Even if her mind had created Ourea as some elaborate defense mechanism, she would stay just to be near him.

But Ourea
was
real. She’d escaped armies, decapitated shadow demons, and had too many scars for it to not be real—and the gravity of her dangerous new life sent bile into the back of her throat. The people vagabonds loved died. Every time. Thus, why she couldn’t have Braeden.

“You all right, Kara?”

She caught his eye and forced a smile. “Yep.”

He narrowed his eyes as if waiting for her to crack under the pressure. She wouldn’t. She wanted what she couldn’t have. It was as simple as that.

A noise like a dove cooing echoed through the cave. A small, red ball of fur about the size of a squirrel jumped onto Braeden’s shoulder, but the prince didn’t flinch. The creature’s long tail batted his face.

“Hey Flick,” he said, scratching the creature’s ear.

Flick purred, rubbing his cheek against Braeden’s neck. Kara shook her head. Her pet said hello to Braeden first.

Furry little traitor.

Flick jumped onto her shoulder and gave her the same welcome. She scratched his ears, unable to resist the little thing, and swung her bag over her shoulder before pushing herself to her feet. Flick crawled into her satchel, his tiny nails digging into her clothes as he scampered into the bag.

“Shall we go, Braeden? We should probably make our way back to the mansion,” she said.

“Nope.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“You wanted to learn to fight. We haven’t trained today. We need to spar.”

She groaned. They’d
been
sparring. She’d healed dozens of bruises and even a broken finger, all evidence to the fact she was barely able to react in time to a sword coming at her face, much less a magical technique. She just wasn’t a very good fighter.

“But—”

He laughed. “You’ll never get better if you don’t practice. Come on.”

He drew his sword.

Her stomach twisted. “Right here? Seriously? On a ledge? Those are rapids!”

“Yes. Today, it’s all about controlling your opponent’s movement and fighting in difficult terrain. Since you aren’t strong in this environment, drive me back up the stairs and to the forest, where you have more room to move. Also, you should never be without a sword.”

“But I don’t have one!”

“That was my point.”

“Shouldn’t I practice one lesson at a time?”

In answer, he swung his sword at her arm. She pressed her back against the cave wall, ducking the blow seconds before the blade cut the air. Goose bumps crawled up her neck.

Braeden laughed. “The best way to learn is baptism by fire. Let’s go!”

Kara ducked another swing and looked around, but she had no tactical advantage. Braeden blocked her way to the stairs. She couldn’t run past him or—she glanced over the ledge at the tumbling river below. Nope, she was
not
jumping into that. Her only escape was the nearby hole in the ledge above. If she could—

Braeden shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, apparently ready to lunge and end this whole bout before it began.

No time to think. Just go.

Kara sprinted away, toward the gap. Braeden followed, and Kara jumped for the ledge seconds before he lunged. She grabbed the walkway, the splinters of rock digging into her arms as her momentum lifted her legs out of Braeden’s passing reach.

His fingers brushed her ankle, sending a shiver up her leg. She resisted the impulse to smile at the tingling sensation his touch left behind. It made her think of his hand on her back, of their kiss—

“Clever!” he said.

Focus, Kara.

She pulled herself onto the ledge and wished she had a witty response, but she’d learned
that
lesson the hard way during an earlier match. She had distracted
herself
by talking, instead of distracting him as she’d hoped. Braeden had tripped her and knocked her clean onto her back. Dialogue was yet another weapon, one that required practice. Let the better fighters banter. Lesser fighters focus.

Kara got to her feet and raced along the upper pathway toward the waterfall, her satchel bouncing against her back while she ran as fast as she could. Braeden would be faster, but she had to try.

The ledge curved around a bend in the cave. Her feet pounded against the rock, sending shards of cave wall sprinkling to the ground below. The walkway likely hadn’t seen action like this in its lifetime. She hoped it wouldn’t crumble.

Braeden’s steps echoed from under her as the edge of the catwalk came into view. It would end about ten feet before the stairs, so she picked up her pace. She couldn’t slow down, or Braeden would catch her.

Five feet away now.

Two feet—

Jump!

Kara kept her eyes where she wanted to go, just as Braeden had taught her the last time they’d sparred. She’d tried to jump from a tree and wound up in a bramble bush.

Instinct and a dozen failed attempts in prior matches told her to tuck her head, to curl onto her shoulder and let the momentum propel her forward. She grabbed her satchel and hugged it close, Flick’s body heat seeping through the fabric as she landed and rolled.

Rocks dug into her neck and shoulder before pushing against her back, but nothing stung. Flick giggled from the bag. She rolled back onto her feet and took off again, not daring to look back for Braeden. She would probably trip if she did.

She grinned, adrenaline numbing her fingertips as she ran. She had no earthly idea how she would do it again, but to hell with it. She’d finally rolled!

Kara followed the path as it curved and disappeared behind the waterfall. The water misted along her neck, blocking all light as she passed behind it. She let her feet find the stairs as she bolted up two at a time. Braeden’s light breaths came from somewhere in the darkness behind her.

Green sunlight illuminated the top of the stairs, the light blocked by a thick canopy of trees. Brown blurs came into view—bark. There would be a root right when she rounded the last stair, so she had to be careful not to—