скачать книгу бесплатно
The Empty Throne
Cayla Kluver
How do you find the strength to save your kingdom when you've lost everything?Anya has failed in her mission to bring Prince Zabriel back to the Faerie realm of Chrior so that he can ascend his rightful throne. Instead, Zabriel, her prince, cousin and dear friend, is standing trial for crimes committed under the false name William Wolfram Pyrite. Worst of all, the last possible heir to the Faerie throne is Illumina–the cousin Anya suspects of the foulest betrayal possible.In a desperate last attempt to put things right, Anya must partner with the unlikeliest of allies and venture into ever more dangerous situations if there is to be any hope of peace for her people.
How do you find the strength to save your kingdom when you’ve lost everything?
Anya has failed in her mission to bring Prince Zabriel back to the Faerie realm of Chrior so that he can ascend his rightful throne. Instead, Zabriel, her prince, cousin and dear friend, is standing trial for crimes committed under the false name William Wolfram Pyrite. Worst of all, the last possible heir to the Faerie throne is Illumina—the cousin Anya suspects of the foulest betrayal possible.
In a desperate last attempt to put things right, Anya must partner with the unlikeliest of allies and venture into ever more dangerous situations if there is to be any hope of peace for her people.
(http://www.miraink.co.uk)
Praise for The Queen’s Choice, book one in the Heirs of Chrior trilogy (#ua43731d6-a7fa-59c5-ae36-86f002b59105)
“Kluver has captured the complex and ever-shifting
emotions of a teenage girl and constructed
an engaging, densely plotted political thriller,
complete with a cliff-hanger ending that will
make readers eager for the sequel.”
—Booklist
“Rich details, emotionally deep characters,
and original plot elements will attract
new and old fans of the fae subgenre.”
—School Library Journal
Books by Cayla Kluver from MiraInk (#ua43731d6-a7fa-59c5-ae36-86f002b59105)
Heirs of Chrior
(in reading order)
The Queen’s Choice
The Empty Throne
The Legacy Trilogy
(in reading order)
Legacy
Allegiance
Sacrifice
For Mom. You know why.
About the Author (#ua43731d6-a7fa-59c5-ae36-86f002b59105)
Cayla Kluver is the author of the Legacy trilogy (which includes Legacy, Allegiance and Sacrifice), and The Queen’s Choice, book one of the Heirs of Chrior trilogy, as well as numerous rambling blog posts on her website and a handful of Tweets. She has cats, dogs and horses, watches more crime shows than is probably healthy, and loves Robert Louis Stevenson and the Beatles. Visit Cayla at www.caylakluver.com (http://www.caylakluver.com), friend her on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/caylakluverbooks) and follow @CaylaKL (https://twitter.com/CaylaKL) on Twitter.
Contents
Cover (#u0d84ef4f-673a-522e-bcff-60af0bb4bccc)
Back Cover Text (#u108cdff6-87bc-50ea-9c1c-fd5096ad77b5)
Title Page (#u7d030c87-36ef-5796-adb8-f9deff1b6abf)
Praise
Booklist
Dedication (#u959547c0-0402-5e8c-994b-4700a0fde655)
About the Author
Chapter One (#ulink_7231893c-d4e9-5650-8af7-40605e28ce9c)
Chapter Two (#ulink_2edaeb43-166a-5492-93a5-6687c45da92c)
Chapter Three (#ulink_989c97e6-3a40-5537-9cfe-1b0956bbb9ac)
Chapter Four (#ulink_d561463e-d19b-5499-9027-a42702f2cd2f)
Chapter Five (#ulink_b2787071-d4d4-552e-87dc-2cdd9477524c)
Chapter Six (#ulink_d3d31124-f6ec-5827-b098-5c9abe5af72a)
Chapter Seven (#ulink_b19b61ef-f6eb-55e0-a4f8-4ad0ed7f6dd5)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_80b95628-90cc-5299-a37a-21f47c103af5)
THE LOVELY PALE COLOR OF CHEESE
I paced the floor of my room, tired and on edge, playing the memory of my mutilation over and over again in my head. Despite the fact I had spent the night in a fine inn in southern Tairmor, I hadn’t slept at all. The charcoal drawing I had discovered in my cousin Illumina’s notebook of the vicious attack that had cost me my wings had thrown me into turmoil. And the nightmarish image my mind had conjured of her as the woman who had stroked my hair where I lay bleeding on the ground had sent panic shooting through my veins. But in the light of day, my actual memory failed to provide any clarity about the woman, and my heart refused to consider any such possibility. Yet, in the deepest recesses of my brain, doubt ate away at me.
“Anya? Anya, are you awake?”
It wasn’t the words, but the insistent knocking upon the door that pulled me from my circular thoughts. I frowned, not wanting to see anyone. My vision was blurred, my head ached, and nausea roiled my stomach. I wasn’t even close to ready to face the world.
“Anya, I have to talk to you. It’s important.”
This time I recognized the voice. It was Officer Tom Matlock, the young man with whom I had spent the previous evening. After escorting me to the room he had gallantly rented for me, he had promised to return midmorning to check on me, and it was he who now stood in the second-floor hallway wearing out his knuckles upon my door.
“Coming!”
I tugged at my tunic to straighten it and ran a hand through my hair, my face flushing at the thought of the kiss he and I had exchanged but a few hours ago. The caress of his hands, the pressure of his lips against mine, and the strength and safety I had felt in his embrace had almost led me to invite him to stay the night. I shook myself like a dog expelling water from its coat—this was a moment I should not be reliving, especially since Davic, my promised, waited to receive word from me in the Faerie Realm.
I crossed the floor to grant Tom entrance, but before I could even say hello, he pushed past me across the threshold. I stared aghast at him, for his actions were at odds with the gentlemanly manner I had come to expect. With a backward sweep of his leg, he kicked the door shut. The motion was enough to send my overworked sense of danger through the roof.
“What’s wrong?” I demanded, shifting away from him. When my calves bumped into the bed, I sank down upon it, though he didn’t seem to notice—his own agitation had spurred him to pace the floor almost literally in my footsteps.
“You asked me last night if you’d earned a wanted poster. Why did you want to know? And don’t tell me it’s because of the escape you and Shea made from Tairmor, the one I aided. Nothing further came from that. No, something happened while you were in Sheness. You have to tell me what it was.”
“Are you saying I’m on a wanted poster?” I managed, my voice strained as I struggled to process both the information he was revealing and the demand he was making.
“No, not a poster, and no reward offer, either. But the Lieutenant Governor has sent word to the Constabulary stations throughout the city to apprehend you on sight.” Halting in front of me, he reached into a pocket of his red double-breasted uniform coat and produced a notice that contained my name, a physical description, and a sketch bearing a fair resemblance to my face. “This is being distributed, along with instructions to bring you to Luka at the Governor’s mansion.”
I felt the blood drain from my face, and foreboding seemed to drip from my heart like condensation from the walls of a cave. This was not good news. I could only assume Luka Ivanova, the Governor’s son and Commissioner of Law Enforcement in the Warckum Territory, had been told of the part I had played with my cousins in the raid on Evernook Island, the raid that had landed Zabriel, the Prince of the Fae, under his alternate identity of the pirate William Wolfram Pyrite, in human custody.
I examined my hands, twining them together in my lap, and decided to sidestep Tom with an inquiry of my own.
“Have you heard anything about the arrest of pirates on the coast?”
Tom nudged me under the chin with his knuckles, raising my gaze to his. “I need to know what happened in Sheness, Anya.”
“And I’d like an answer to my question.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his normally tidy brown hair, leaving it boyishly mussed. “The only news concerns a massive fire on Evernook Island, but I’ve heard nothing to suggest pirates were involved. And I haven’t heard anything related to Pyrite, the most notorious of the lot.”
I nodded, feeling some measure of relief. While I had no idea what had become of Zabriel after his arrest, knowing only that he’d been wounded, the humans would surely laud his capture before sentencing him to a public execution for his crimes.
“Your turn,” Tom prompted, tapping one foot.
I adopted what I hoped was a reassuring smile and took a steadying breath. “I told you last night, I found my cousin Illumina and sent her home to the Faerie Realm.”
“And that’s it? You didn’t break her out of jail? Or engage in any other illegal activities?” He hesitated, his gray eyes narrowing. “And you don’t have any connection to these pirates you’re asking about?”
I clenched my jaw but gave no reply, unwilling to tell him the truth and unable to speak false. Fae nature was complex, allowing us to confuse, evade, and conceal but not to outright lie. While it was possible I was responding out of reflex and habit, my nature no longer truly Fae, this was a boundary I didn’t want to test, unwilling to fully align myself with human characteristics.
Exasperated, Tom threw his hands in the air and momentarily turned from me. Feeling that the tide was shifting, and not in my favor, I came to my feet, ready to face him down.
“You need to trust me, Anya,” he said, but despite his words, he fingered the handcuffs he carried on his weapons belt.
“I could say the same. And that brings us to the question at hand, Officer Matlock. Do you intend to arrest me?”
The dull ache in my temples that had almost faded away came back with a vengeance while I awaited his answer, for it felt as if the course of our relationship was about to be decided. No matter what, I couldn’t be arrested, not with so much at stake.
“Will you voluntarily accompany me, or do I need to use these?”
He patted the restraints, and I closed my eyes—though his answer was not unexpected, disappointment flowed through me. I gathered my resolve and perused him, calculating his size and strength in relation to mine. He was taller than me, fit, and well muscled, but he was also quite smitten, which might provide the advantage I needed.
