Free Rise by Andrea Cremer

all that I can to see Eira rule as she should and Conatus take its rightful place in this world, my aim is to secure my legacy in my world.”
    “I see,” Alistair said quietly, though he was quite overwhelmed by the picture Bosque had painted of another world that existed—once separate, now connected to the earth.
    “The rift offers another advantage,” Bosque continued. “The Lyulf and my wraiths would have been the best weapons I could offer if Eira had rejected my offer of an alliance.”
    “You need yet greater tools of war?” Alistair balked. “No weapon can destroy Lyulf or wraith.”
    Bosque frowned. “None of your weapons, but that isn’t the concern. Terrain is.”
    “Terrain?”
    “Though in substance and power my world differs from yours, its landscape would have some familiar features,” Bosque told him. “There are mountains of fire, deserts spotted with boulders clear as glass and sharp as razors, forests of choking vines. And the seas… with waters the color of the night sky.”
    Murky visions of this place swam in Alistair’s head, as if Bosque were a painter filling the canvas of Alistair’s mind with some imagined hell.
    “Wars are fought on land and at sea,” Bosque continued. “The wraiths and Lyulf serve no purpose when the battle takes to water.”
    Alistair’s throat constricted as he remembered what Bosque had told Eira just before the ritual.
    Once they’re upon the sea, they are mine. When you’ve performed this task for me, we can even seek our beds and ride to the coast on the morrow.
    “What will you send after them?” Alistair asked hoarsely. Fear for Ember’s life needled him.
    “In the morning you will see.” Bosque gave him a measured look and said, “I would speak with you further about Lady Morrow. And the choices you made today.”
    Alistair’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. It was like the man could read his mind.
    “I’ve already shown my faith in you. You have a place of honor in this new order, and I would see you rise even higher.” Bosque offered what almost looked like a gentle smile, though beneath his silver eyes, the expression was more frightening than reassuring. “But your passion for the girl sways you. It puts your future at risk.”
    Alistair turned his face, shame and outrage churning in his blood.
    “I understand better than you surmise,” Bosque told him. “You need her to come to you. It is not enough to simply take her.”
    Alistair looked up, his eyes suspicious, yet grateful. “Yes.”
    “That choice shows you to be more man than child, and merits respect. For your pains, I hope the lady finds her way back to you.” Bosque paused before he added, “Should she not, you must let your love follow its natural course, allowing it to transform as it will. You’ll be the stronger for it.”
    “Transform?” Alistair’s brow furrowed.
    “If your heart’s wish is not fulfilled, the heat of your passion will instead burn as a cold fire.” Bosque tilted his head, regarding Alistair with amusement as a father would a naive child. “That is what happens when love turns to hate.”



ALL THE TALK EMBER had heard of sailors described them as sour, drunken brutes. The crew of their ship, however, overturned those tales. Whether it was a reflection of their usual nature or an exception made out of respect for the holy mission of their current passengers, the burly men who occupied the ship were subdued and sober.
    Ember learned quickly that she much preferred standing on the deck, where she could taste salt air and listen to the ship sluice through the dark sea. Belowdecks she suffered through the ongoing argument between Kael and Lukasz about whether or not they should actually join the pilgrimage upon reaching Bordeaux rather than seek another ship to carry their party east.
    Their bickering tired her, but Barrow rested belowdecks as well. As much as Ember enjoyed the wind in her face, she didn’t want to leave his side for long.