Read the Opening

The Moon Elf’s Shadow

The moon had gone red before Kael reached the river.

He noticed it first in the water: a thin wound of colour trembling between the reeds. Above him, the night was still black. Stars kept their distance. The old bridge waited in silence, its stones slick with a rain that had not yet begun to fall.

Someone had left a lantern at the centre of the crossing.

Kael stopped beneath the ash trees and counted the ways a lantern could be a warning. Three. The Veil preferred three: one truth, one lie, and the choice that made both irrelevant.

His hand found the knife beneath his coat. The blade was cold enough to remember winter. He had carried it through twelve cities, two names, and the last room where Salunia had looked at him as if he were still a boy.

The lantern flame bent toward him.

From the far bank, a voice said, “You are late.”

Kael stepped onto the bridge. Behind him, the red moon rose high enough to cast his shadow in the wrong direction.