GENRE: YA Fantasy
A wizard’s spell has blocked emotions so people can’t cry. Stubborn, sixteen year old Kiana must find a rare jar of enchanted tears that can help her reverse the spell, but she has to do it before the Arcaian soldiers steal her people’s magic—including her brother’s.
Silence screamed all around me, and I knew any minute the heavy tread of military boots would hammer through it. Shivers nibbled at my skin and laddered up my spine.
I ducked through the fog into an alleyway and listened for some sound, some warning that the ever-present Arcaian soldiers, who had infested my country Itharia, had also caught sight of a sixteen year old girl breaking curfew during their nightly patrol. I sipped a cold breath before breaking toward the Square.
A large yellow piece of machinery rested by the abandoned fuel station, and I stopped by one if its massive wheels. The Arcs must have just stopped working to begin their patrol because the acrid smell of burnt magic filled the air around the machine. My jaw clenched. I hated that smell. Like we needed another reminder of what those axrats were doing when they took our magic.
Well, when they took my people’s magic.
I pushed aside my annoyance and tried to peer through the slithering fog for my best friend. “Come on, Gwynn,” I said under my breath. “Where are you?”
Any other time the words would have left a smoky trace in the cold air, but the fog was too thick. It choked its way through the streets in Cadehtraen—I could barely see the street signs or the traffic lights.
Moonlight shifted, and the crippled arms of our meeting place, the Guerra Tree that stood in the center of the Square, twined upward over the fog. Feeling like a moving target, I ran straight for it.
I cursed my footfalls and shot a glance into the murky street behind me. Despite my desire to stay quiet, panicked noises crept out between my frantic breaths.
I should have just had Gwynn sleep over. Meeting at two am would have been much easier.