Read Chapters 1 & 2 of
Whisper of Weapons

Today, I would cast my future. There would certainly be sharp fangs, broad claws, and a furry hug. At least, the potential for a furry hug. The fangs and claws were for sure, though.

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Muscles burned in my legs as I pelted for the coliseum.

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It was almost time.

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And I had to arrive with a few moments to spare or else I’d be walking into the ceremony in a sweaty tunic and trousers.

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I pumped my arms, a faded emerald gown bunched up in one hand and my scythe in the other, racing against time.

My boots thunked against the cobblestones as the coliseum loomed before me and smaller ramshackle dwellings cast shadows from either side of the road.

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Almost there.

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Swerving to one side, I darted around one of the houses and skidded to a halt. I glanced around. No one.

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Because all of Terrenthyrs is already inside the coliseum! Princess Selverine and the others will be here any moment.

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I tore off the tunic and pulled the gown over my head. Stepping out of my boots, I yanked off the trousers, nearly falling on the ground. “What the muck, you stupid pants!” I hissed, grappling with the ties behind my back. I cinched and bound them quickly—thanks to the last several years without a ladies’ maid.

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Frowning at the boots, I wished I’d had enough hands to carry my finer pair of shoes. At least the gown would cover them.

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I slid the boots back on and peeked around the house.

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There were still a few moments left.

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A soft breeze cooled my face as I grinned up at the sun.

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I’d made it.

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The rest of my future was still a mystery. But as I kicked my sweaty street clothes behind a half-dead bush and straightened my gown, I smiled despite the missing pearls around the neckline.

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Today I would finally meet the beginning of the rest of my life. The animal companion I’d spent the last six years preparing to cast. The castling who would train and fight and grow to adulthood with me—if we lived that long.

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Gliding gracefully back to the road, I scowled at the house—the type of old-fashioned structure Father, his new wife, and I might be exiled to if I failed to perform well today and over the next eight months.

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No skunking way I’m going to let that happen.

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The sight of their crumbling exteriors and broken beige shutters soured my stomach. But at the far end of the road, the great coliseum rose above it all in its grand, stony glory, covering this outdated side of Polfryth City in its shadow.

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In that arena I would meet my castling and join a strong cohort. Then eight months from now, I’d best the other cohorts with my comrades and claim the prize money and all the perks that accompanied becoming one of this year’s Grand Castors.

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My family’s last chance at salvaging our future thanks to Father’s rapidly declining fortune.

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The heat from my stealthy trek here dissipated, and I shivered in the coliseum’s shadow, my pale hands wrapping tighter around my scythe. My castling weapon’s blade curved just like a giant claw, and the furry-looking stripes I’d spent countless hours etching into the wooden handle felt familiar and comforting under my fingers.

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I’d carved a single word on the handle just under the blade: Magnificence. The name that would belong to the castling I was about to meet. The castling who would ensure my place among the better class.

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I was so close.

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Ahead, a group of Princess Selverine’s colorfully dressed friends—all daughters of the wealthiest families in Terrenthyrs—rounded the corner opposite the coliseum. The summer breeze tossed their various twists, braids, and ties about their shoulders.

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So they’d tied their hair back as well—good. I wouldn’t want my chestnut strands flapping around my face today. I smiled as primly as I could and waved. “Hello, Selverine!”

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Selverine’s amber eyes landed on me, and she smiled back, throwing a carefree wave my way.

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Yes!

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The invitation to walk with her to the Castling Ceremony was a good sign—the culmination of all my careful attempts to climb past my family’s not-quite-ideal social status. I strolled to meet Selverine and her entourage, hoping the other girls’ dresses didn’t outdo mine by too much.

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I tried to forget the missing pearls. Father had promised to buy me a gown worthy of a castor for the Grand Castors’ ball halfway through the castling year. Something elaborate and gorgeous. I’d look forward to that.

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The sun lingered on Selverine’s tan skin I so often envied as she tucked a loose brown lock behind her ear. Her emerald humming-avian earrings flashed in the sun. “Are you ready for the ceremony, Mella?”

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I beamed as I fell into step beside her, gripping my scythe in both hands. “Very. I can’t wait to meet my castling.”

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An exceptionally tall, pale girl with straw-colored hair strode from a ramshackle house up ahead, a crate of rubbish in her arms.

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Yulroe leaned in from behind Selverine and me. Her delicate onyx braids, tamed into a side twist today, tickled my shoulder as she glared across the road. “Look at her. Cleaning just before the ceremony. Must be desperate to supplement a lesser-class income. Probably from a musician family.” Yulroe snickered.

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“Embarrassing,” Selverine agreed, glaring at the tall girl. “Or maybe she won’t actually be able to cast at all, and she’ll be left with no profession. That’s more likely than anything, with that plain spear.”

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I tried to be critical of her too, but I couldn’t find anything to comment on. I hoped they were wrong, though. I winced as an image of old Trello and Loryce—musicians by trade who’d sworn off playing music to become castors, and then failed at casting. Trello had finally gotten over the embarrassment and landed an apprenticeship at the mill, despite being in his twenties by then. But Loryce—her torn and dirty beggar’s rags flashed through my mind. She’d never gotten past it.

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Failing to cast was not an option.

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Frenna stepped up to my other side as we strode toward the coliseum doors. Her older brother was a member of the cohort who won the last casting competition four months ago. He was guaranteed a place in high society free of financial worries for the rest of his life. I wished that was me.

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No, it would be me.

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Frenna’s fingers swept over her bound auburn curls to disentangle one from the fletching of an arrow in her quiver. “I don’t know why that girl even bothers trying. She should just stick to what she was born to and leave the casting to those meant for it.”

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Swallowing, I searched for an appropriate topic change. Probably no one here knew my Momma, Father’s first wife, was from a musician family…but if anyone found out…best to keep it to myself as long as possible.

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Frenna launched into a debate with another girl about musician families, and I became extremely interested in anything but that conversation.

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We were almost to it now. Another breeze rustled something in the rubbish box the tall girl had laid at the street. What was that? A fraying length of twine?

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I hung back a step to check, keeping an eye on the others. It wouldn’t do to be caught pilfering garbage, but I just might need those strands later. I plucked the fraying cord from the pile without breaking stride and stuffed it in my pocket. It felt like an old bowstring—it was the right length, too.

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Holy skunks.

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Yes, this would be useful for my illegal little hobby. I’d been worried yesterday when one of my strings had snapped, but now I smiled, giving my new piece of contraband a secret little pat as I looked forward to celebrating alone later today.

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Selverine wrenched open the wide doors into the coliseum and grinned back at us. “Ladies, it’s time to meet our futures!”