The Daath Chronicles- The Complete Series

by Eliza Tilton

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me—this verse has not only helped me persevere through the doubt and struggle, but it’s lifted me up on my darkest days.

  Of course, I have a ton of people to thank, and no idea where to start, but here it goes.

  First, one giant hug and thanks to my critique partners. You’ve all helped me in so many different ways and I love you all. To my backspace girls, Laura, Tonya and Lynn, you three are a cheerleading squad, full of creative thinking and spunk. I’m so thankful to have you in my back corner. Heather and Erin, we’ve created our own little clique, and I love skyping and hashing out stories with you. Annette, you are a genius at first person. I hope I make you proud. Jordan, the amount of stories you write is inspirational. I can’t wait until the world gets to read them. Marlene, you’ve helped me improve my writing and you never shy from re-reading my work. I know when I’m having a rough day, I can always vent and you’ll always listen. We’ve both come a long way and we’re only getting started.

  Taylor, you were the first teen to read my story. You’re excitement and suggestions helped make this shine, thank you.

  Thanks to Jessa Russo and Curiosity Quills Press for believing in my story. None of this would be happening if I didn’t have the support of a great team. My editor, Mike Robinson, thank The Creator for you. You saw my weaknesses and helped me shine. Jade Hart, guru of production, thanks for keeping us all in line.

  I thank my favorite authors, R.A. Salvatore, Elaine Cunningham, and many others who write magical stories that whisk me away and inspire me to write. Great books inspire great writing.

  I’m blessed to have such an amazing family that’s always supported me. Bus’, I was terrified for you to read my story, but you did, and you loved it. Thank you for pushing me and correcting my grammar in every letter I’ve written since the third grade. Grandpa, I’m one hundred percent convinced I get my storytelling from you. No one gets stoned in this novel, but I promise to add in a stoning somewhere.

  Mom, you never gave up on me. You’ve taught me the definition of strength, and everything I’ve become is because you raised me right. I know I don’t say it enough, but I love and appreciate you, more than I can express.

  To my son Noah, you’re too young to read, but know you were the driving force behind all of this. I’ve always wanted to be published, but you made me go after it.

  Lastly, to my husband, Cory. This story started off as a birthday gift to you and then it blossomed into a full length novel. You’ve always been a seed of creativity and source of motivation. I see how you paint the world and I want to paint it with you.

  The End

  Contine the adventure in Book Two:

  Wicked Path:Book Two

  Prolouge

  Lucy stomped along the blood-red corridor leading to her father’s private chambers. Five of her elite guards flanked her, adorned in black armor, chrome masks and razor katans; they were a vision of death. No one would dare to step near her with them by her side.

  As Lucy reached for the iron handle that opened the side entrance, a familiar voice entered her head. “No, child, the way is not safe; enter through the secret passageway to the north.”

  Lucy veered right and headed down the opposite hallway, her entourage trailing like an elaborate cloak. She stopped at an intricate sculpture of a twisted rhino, grasped the large horn, and pressed in. The sculpture slid to the side to reveal a long hallway. Two of her guards walked in first, then she followed.

  The guards stood outside the iron door while she entered into the room. With its slate walls, the library seemed empty, but Lucy knew every tome had a hidden spot within the wall.

  She bowed her head forward, ignoring the incredulous black statue of her father that loomed beside her. “Hello, Father.”

  King Reagan pushed a silver circle on the wall and slipped a tome back into its place. He slowly turned his head to regard his daughter. White hair fell past his shoulders, contrasting against his forest green skin.

  “You wear your human form often,” he said. “Do you prefer it to your true self?”

  Lucy straightened her shoulders. “Of course not, Father. This is more practical, considering my comings and goings.”

  King Reagan stepped toward Lucy. His raised-collar robe swished with his steps. “Let’s not forget you are human.”

  Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “Half.”

  He nodded and waved at the egg-shaped seat, inviting her to sit. “We have much to discuss, little one.”

  Lucy didn’t have time for one of her father’s drawn out conversations, but she couldn’t be rude either. “Father, I am pressed for time. Dago will be arriving in Daath in a few days. I need to return and await his arrival. You know how demanding he can be.”

  “Understood, child, but remember, you do not serve him. He is a temporary regent until your brother is well. Have you visited Lucino?”

  She winced at her brother’s name. His burns had charred a good portion of his skin and the healing had been slower than normal. His foolish obsession had nearly cost him his life and hers. A mistake she had a hard time forgetting.

  “Do not fret, he is well,” King Reagan stated, misinterpreting Lucy’s silence.

  Lucy responded by clasping her hands together in her lap and eyeing her father. Her fingers clenched and unclenched as she waited for him to say more.

  King Reagan grabbed a large metal case off the crystal desk in the corner and brought it to her. He unhooked the latches and revealed six metal bracelets. “These are nanobuilds. They will provide you with a cloak of invisibility. You can use this to spy on Dago, and for your guard to pass through Tarrtainya undetected.”

  The Elite Guard always remained in their Reptilian form, strong, tall, and savage, with yellow eyes and dark, leathery skin. They considered it a dishonor to shape change into lesser species. This gadget would expand Lucy’s power as well as her guards’,

  strengthening their forces in Tarrtainya, and allowing the Elite Guard to leave Mirth for the first time.

  Exhilaration skittered through her veins.

  She would be unstoppable.

  Lucy’s father closed the case and left it in her lap. “We only have three cycles left before the first sun collapses. Our people need to transfer to the new world before our atmosphere becomes unstable. The Council sees this change as an opportunity to rid our race of the weaklings. As the royal family, we have a duty to save all our people, not just ensure the strongest of our species survives.”

  King Reagan cared for their kind, but Lucy found most of them just as intolerable as the humans. She nodded, feigning agreement.

  “If Dago is The Council’s errand boy, we’ll need to be rid of him quickly. No one but me will know of the guards going with you. Use them wisely. In the meantime, dispose of the human boy before he stirs more trouble.”

  “Gladly,” she replied coldly.

  King Reagan lifted her chin with his leathery hand. “Lucino is lost and confused, and The Council watches me too closely. Until your brother’s mind clears, this task falls to you.”

  Lucy met her father’s ancient gaze, seeing the approval in his eyes. A fire lit inside her, pulsing with determination. “I will see it done.” A smirk spread across her face.

  Chapter One

  Avikar

  I’d always wondered why people celebrate a harvest. With winter soon to blow its winds, it seemed there were more important tasks than drinking and dancing. Why not celebrate afterward, when the snow and cold had left, and everyone you loved had survived?

  “Dance with me.” Raven grabbed my hand and pulled me away from my thoughts. Firelight danced around her cheeks, making her face warm and alive.

  “As if I have a choice.” I grinned, spinning her body away from mine.

  Musicians plucked chirpy melodies on fiddles, women twirled their long skirts, and men tramped alongs
ide them. Raven brought her hands up, clapping by her left ear. I mimicked the gesture, eyeing her dress, which I still couldn’t believe she’d worn. The dress, a dark blue, almost black, hugged her midsection, accentuating the curves of her small frame. When she twisted her hips and smiled, I wanted to sweep her away from the crowd and disappear into the night. She should wear dresses more often, but she called them an inconvenience—something I’d seen for myself during one of our earlier spars.

  Watching her laugh and dance reminded me of what my mother always said: ‘We celebrate because we are thankful’. I had a lot to be thankful for, especially Raven. She forced me to live and not just exist.

  Jericho’s wife, Anna, had braided Raven’s hair, weaving it with different colored ribbons. The blue and red strands bounced around her sweet face as she danced.

  I grabbed her waist and pulled her body closer, then pushed my lips against hers. Even after spending days together, each kiss felt like the first.

  She looped her arms around my neck, and I swung her in a circle, making her laugh until she begged me to stop. When her feet touched the ground, she snuck another kiss, and then grabbed my hand, dragging me to the merchants, who cooked a medley of roasted lamb, sweet honey figs and black-peppered mushrooms with butter.

  “I need one of those,” I said as a man passed us, gnawing away on a stick of meat.

  “There.” Raven pointed to a fat-bellied vendor handing out long twigs with pieces of roasted meat skewered on them.

  The pungent, sweet scent of lamb lingered in the air. By the time we reached the merchant, my mouth watered and my stomach screamed for food.

  Raven chatted about the festival while I ignored her, focusing instead on the lamb’s smoked taste and apple glaze… I’m sure whatever she said was important, but this food had my full attention. “Raven… ? It is you!”

  An older version of Raven stood in front of us. The similarities were striking: chocolate hair and brown eyes on a petite frame. Although, this girl’s facial features weren’t as perfectly shaped as Raven’s.

  “Hi, Rachel.” Raven stood still while Rachel hugged her tight.

  “How have you been? I’ve been meaning to visit, but Lucas and I have been busy.”

  “Hello, Raven.”

  Raven eyed the man beside Rachel. I waited for her to introduce me, but she didn’t.

  “I’m Avikar.” I extended the hand not dripping with lamb juice.

  “Lucas,” the man said, shaking my hand in return.

  “Did Jericho tell you the good news?” Rachel took Lucas’ hand and smiled.

  “No.” Raven’s gaze shifted toward Lucas, whose light eyes met hers.

  I bit off another chunk of lamb while Raven fiddled with the front of her dress.

  “Rachel’s with child,” Lucas said.

  “Congratulations,” Raven said as Rachel threw her arms around her neck. Raven hugged her back, her eyes watering.

  Lucas placed his hand on Rachel’s back. “My parents are waiting.”

  Rachel nodded, then quickly kissed Raven on the cheek. “I miss you,” she said. “Will you come visit me soon?”

  “I’ll try. I need to finish gathering herbs before winter.”

  Rachel’s smile faded, and I wondered what had happened between them. Raven rarely mentioned her sister, and when she did, a snarky comment or sigh usually followed. The way Raven portrayed Rachel, I would’ve thought her to be a big snob, but she seemed nice.

  Raven never mentioned Lucas. She glared at the two of them walking away and I wondered why she was so angry.

  “What’s wrong? She seems nice.”

  “She isn’t,” Raven replied bluntly. “I’m going back to Jericho’s. You can stay.”

  I’d wanted to go to the festival since Raven told me about it, but she was upset and I wasn’t going to let her leave alone.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No.”

  “Raven.”

  “I want to be alone, Avikar. Please, I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” She nodded.

  I kissed her lightly on the lips. “Be careful.”

  “I always am.” She left before I could change my mind.

  Even though I had been in Daath for months, I never felt settled, even though no one had seen Lucy in weeks and there were rumors she’d left Daath. Tonight, I was going to enjoy myself.

  The townsfolk had dressed in costume tonight, each one representing a different flower or animal. Villagers passed by, faces hidden behind twined masks, carrying mugs of golden liquid.

  A girl wearing a white mask depicting a lily grabbed my shirt. She smiled and handed me a black crow mask.

  “Put it on,” she said.

  I slid the disguise into place and tied it behind my head.

  “Now you fit in.”

  Another girl wearing a red cat mask appeared by her side. “Don’t forget this.” She handed me a wooden cup filled with a purple liquid.

  “What’s this?”

  The girls giggled at each other, then back at me.

  “Have you never come to the festival?” Cat Girl asked.

  “I’ve always had to leave before dark to help my mother return home. She isn’t well.”

  The girl in white lifted her cup to mine. “Then you are in for a treat. May the journey bring wisdom and blessings to those who seek answers hidden beneath the veil.”

  She put the cup to her lips, drinking, and I followed.

  Warmth coated my throat and stomach. It tasted like wine, vanilla, and something else, a sharpness I couldn’t place. I took another sip. Colored lights hung from lanterns spread across the market, their bright colors swayed with the breeze. The clear sky held thousands of stars, all twinkling brighter than I’d ever seen before.

  The wind carried music and the aroma of roasted meat, and everyone near me smiled and laughed.

  With the mask on, I didn’t have to be afraid of anyone noticing me. The feeling lightened my steps, and I moved through the festival, excitement heating my blood. Lanterns made into the shapes of flowers dangled from above, their glow heightening the ethereal mood. Fiddlers increased the speed of their notes and someone banged on drums. Feet tapped, legs kicked, and there wasn’t one frown in the mass swaying around me.

  A group of girls donning ivy wreaths and red rose masks danced in a ring. When I walked near them, they opened their hands and trapped me within their circle. Their smiles widened and their voices rose with laughter. Holding my drink tightly to avoid spilling, I nodded at them, and they raised their arms, skipping around me in one more circle, then broke apart, moving their dancing to the next patron.

  This festival wasn’t so different from the ones in Lakewood. Just like at home, this festival had plenty to drink, succulent food, music and energy filling the air. I drank the rest of the liquid in the mug, then placed it on one of the empty benches.

  A small crowd had gathered around a fire performer. Face hidden beneath a fox mask, he swung a long cord with metal balls tied on the ends, pricked with tiny holes. The man swung the fire balls around his body, painting the air with flames. I squinted at the spinning light, losing myself in the whirling trails.

  My muscles relaxed and my head swam as the music thumped through my chest, and every note echoed within my body. All the masks and costumes blended into a kaleidoscope of bright colors that moved too fast for my brain to follow. I rubbed my eyes and focused on standing upright.

  People bumped into me, their sweaty bodies hitting my arms and chest. I elbowed my way through, sweat sliding down my neck. Why is everyone standing so close?

  Someone smacked my shoulder.

  I spun around, my breath catching. A giant lizard stood over me, its smile wide and crooked.

  Just a mask, I told myself, stepping back from the forked tongue I knew couldn’t possibly be there. />
  The man wearing the oversized mask ignored me and pushed his way forward.

  My pulse sped. Squeezing through the crowd, I walked farther and farther away. Another villager, wearing a similar lizard disguise in yellow and red shades, laughed and held two goblets up in the air.

  A woman dressed as a dragonfly giggled by his side.

  Nausea rolled through my stomach. I needed a drink of water.

  Drums and cymbals clapped a wild melody, and people swayed around me, their identities hidden by costume. Pushing my way through the crowd, I found an opening and jogged out.

  Barrels of varying sizes and girth dotted the sides of the buildings along the cobbled street. I grabbed a mug from the empty trough next to the barrels and dunked it into the water, drowning myself in the cool liquid until the heat and thirst left, then sat on a wooden bench.

  A small group of festivalgoers strolled past me wearing various bird masks hiding their faces, splashed with bright reds and yellows. One of the girls, adorned in one of Daath’s signature purple dresses, stopped and walked toward me. The bright fabric draped over one shoulder and cinched at her tiny waist. Her legs slipped through the high slits as she walked. When she moved forward, the dress broke apart around her in thin strands, showing flashes of creamy skin.

  “No one should be alone tonight.” She leaned over, placing one hand on the back of the bench. “Fire dancers scaring you away?”

  “I needed a drink of water.”

  She hovered closer, examining my cup. “You’re a strange one.”

  “What do you mean?” I stood, not liking the way she loomed over me.

  A dangerous smile appeared on her face, and she trailed a hand across my shirt. “You’re not from here are you?”

  “Where else would I be from?”

  She leaned closer. “The other side,” she whispered.

  Panic rose in my chest, but I acted normal. “I think you’ve been enjoying the wine too much.”