Song of Sorrows and Fate (The Broken Kingdoms, #9)

by L.J. Andrews

If every kingdom were part of a living soul, Etta would be the heart that kept us vibrant, Klockglas in the East would be the brain that kept us scheming, and the fae isles of the South would be the blood that kept us living. Raven Row would be the shit.

their father’s side. Would they use their unmatched skill with those damn

I’d done it, all while the heat of a heart’s song burned brighter and brighter. In her, it had rotted.

My eyes widened. Twin battle axes were atop the pillow. The queen selected one, inspecting the sharp curve of the blade. “Twin weapons of equal strength. Forged from the fury in this soil. We wish our Timoran cousins to take one, a symbol of our friendship.”

“Girl!” Her voice was harsh and desperate. “Tell me what you know. You wrote him into the curse.” “I told you I didn’t,” I snapped. “I’m the fifth storyteller.” The final storyteller. Every tale came from a different song, a different purpose, and different path. Deep inside I knew it, but how would I explain it to my Kind Heart when I wasn’t positive I understood it all myself? “And the first four—dead.”

This was what broke Riot Ode—he’d wiped his daughter from existence, true, because he’d made me a bleeding immortal until I was strong enough to find my power.

“We need to be on the watch for Ari, Saga, and Calista,” Valen said at long last. “For now, I’m assuming whatever spell brought us here, brought them as well.” “I think you’re right, Uncle Valen.” Dain swiped his dark hair out of his eyes, and sheathed a short blade, gesturing at the treetops. “Or do you suppose that bird up there looking at us is simply a normal raven?”