Prologue

"Rhysand! The left flank is failing!" cried Azriel. "They're using an aerial arsenal to drop fire bombs on the troops below!" Azriel grabbed Rhys' shoulder and pulled him past as he lunged forward to stab his sword into the stomach of an enemy soldier.

"Thanks," breathed Rhys as he stretched and rubbed the back of his neck. The battle had been raging since dawn and their energy was beginning to wane. The sun was hanging low and still they fought on. "Take to the skies and break up that formation. We need to ground them if we're going to stand a chance!"

Azriel didn't hesitate and called three other warriors to the sky with him. Exhaustion was taking hold and he shook himself to clear his head. His wings felt heavy as he tried to gain altitude. A gash across his chest from a near miss with a sword point was bleeding heavily. His wrist throbbed from repeated blows and he readjusted his grip to ensure he still held it firm. His Siphons were dull as he used them to shield blows and blast through enemy ranks. Regardless, he flew straight into the aerial fae causing them scatter.

A hard blow slammed into him behind. The collision knocked the wind out of him and he gasped for air as he lunged for a large faery. They grappled together twisting and turning in the air, landing punches and kicks in equal measure. Azriel brought his knees up and double kicked the faery in the chest and get some space. The faery's dragonfly wings buzzed furiously as he wound up to charge again. But instead another soldier slammed into Azriel's side, sending him reeling.

Azriel growled in frustration that he was losing his bearings. He was so tired he'd let another sneak up on him. The battle had gone on too long and he was getting sloppy. As he struggled to land punches, he swung out to catch the first faery with a blast from his weakened Siphon. His ears rang as the second faery smashed his head when he looked away.

They were moving away from the the battle as they flew together, several others surrounded them trying to land blows. Azriel's hands were locked around the faery's throat when blinding pain erupted from his back. A sword blow had sliced through his wing, shattering the bones and ripping the skin. He was in agony but just squeezed the faery's throat tighter. The faery tried to pull away and dragged Azriel along with him. They were losing altitude as he wasn't able to bear the extra weight. Azriel was bleeding badly and unable to fly at all. The faery spat in his face and smirked. Azriel's head spun as he struggled to remain conscious. The darkness was creeping in but he clutched to the faery to keep from crashing. But it wasn't enough.

He fell.

Chapter 1

The girl shifted the straps on her pack again, adjusting them so they weren't digging into her shoulders. She made a mental note to look into redesigning the width so they distributed the weight more evenly. Maybe if they attached to the pack further apart they wouldn't pinch her neck? Her pace slowed as she daydreamed possibilities. She blinked to clear her mind and realised she had stopped walking altogether. A glance at the snow covered forest and another pack adjustment. The rabbit she had just snared swung loosely from the pack, plump from its recent feast on fresh spring greens.

It was always odd to think of the rabbit having just eaten spring greens, when she was tromping through the snow. When spring arrived she was hoping it would turn to summer. But as she was collecting the fresh plants herself the snow began to fall. Summer and autumn were skipped altogether. The rabbit was plump but its fur would not be thick and warm. The snow had fallen through a long Dark but had stopped when the Light reappeared. So she set her snares and chopped wood while she waited. The temperature was falling and she was worried the Light was leaving, so she had returned to check the traps.

The girl crouched down to observe some tracks in the snow. Her long red-brown hair fell to one side where it was tied in a leather thong. She held her rough and calloused hands next to the track to measure the length and gait. The mouse had run quickly from the base of the oak tree to the pine. Perhaps it had a stash of food there. Or were they vole tracks? The voles usually travelled under the snow, but likely hadn't had time to dig their tunnels just yet. She carefully noted the length of each of the toes and the tail drag mark between the prints, committing the details to her well-trained memory.

She straightened and looked around, listening to the birds calling in the canopy, recognising their calls down to the species. The Light was fading either from an approaching storm or the arrival of Dark. It was hard to tell with clouds covering the sky, hanging low. But it didn't matter; it wasn't like she could get lost. She was wandering carelessly when up ahead in the forest she noticed an odd lump on ground. She froze and stared hard. Her breath quickened as she approached it.

A man lay in the snow before her. An actual person. His dark hair was matted with dirt and dried blood and his face marred with many cuts and scrapes. Both eyes were black and one was so swollen she could only see a slit where the lids met. The face was so unrecognisable it occurred to her it might not be a man at all. It could be woman. His massive size and short hair suggested he was a man. But women could be large as well, she thought. Maybe this was just a regular sized woman and the girl herself was abnormally small. The thought had never occurred to her before and she made a note to research human heights and weights. And vole tracks.

The girl looked down at the rest of the body. Fighting leathers covered his/her torso but were ripped and torn from a vicious fight. A large gash cut across his/her chest but the blood had clotted and dried already. Looks like he lost the fight. She lost the fight? The girl's eyes wandered down to the leg that was clearly broken. She grimaced and gulped in fresh air as she took in the shattered leg. She felt her meal rolling around and quickly looked away to the surrounding forest to keep from vomiting.

It was only then that she realised what was most odd about the situation: there were no tracks leading to the body. He/she was not covered in snow, so clearly had arrived here after the snowfall. No snowfall would have covered the tracks showing where he/she had come from. The girl looked left, and right, and back at the body. Then she slowly looked up to the sky. Branches had been snapped and hung up loosely in the canopy. He had fallen. He was travelling through the canopy of the forest, like a squirrel? When an unfortunate misstep lead to a disastrous fall. No, he looked like there had been a fight. Or maybe attacked by a pursuer in the trees. This all seemed very unplausible to the girl.

She started and stepped back quickly when the body groaned and shifted. Admittedly, she had kind of assumed it was dead. But then it rolled over to its belly slightly and revealed a set of wings half buried in the snow.

"Huh. That's new."