by Jill Archer
Table of Contents
Praise for
BOOKS BY JILL ARCHER
POCKET FULL
OF TINDER
Copyright
PROLOGUE
Part I
1 TWO CRONES
2 HELLFIRE AND DAMNATION
3 DEMONS AND DISASTERS
4 MEMENTO MORI
5 DEAD OF MIDNIGHT; NOON OF THOUGHT
6 PERTHIUS
7 ROTA FORTUNAE
8 HONESTY
9 STONEWALL
10 WALKABOUT
11 THE MAGNA FAX
12 ICHABYE
13 THE MISTRESS OF TEMPTATION
14 DOMESDAY WEAPONS
15 FRIGORE LUNA
16 REGINA AMORIS
17 FITTINGNESS
IDYLL
Part II
18 LUCK IS ON YOUR SIDE
19 A SHINING BRIGHTNESS
20 MEGAPTERA
21 DISPLODO
22 A DIVINE HELL
23 SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDI
24 MORRIDUSA
25 PRELUDE TO A CRASH
26 EXODUS
27 PENULTIMATE ENDING
28 SWAN SONG
29 PRODIGAL DAUGHTER
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
TRIVIA
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Praise for
WHITE HEART OF JUSTICE
“High stakes and powerful magic collide… Noon’s voice is wry and genuine, encompassing her sharp sense of self.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Kudos to Archer for creating such a compelling heroine and mythos!”
—RT Book Reviews (4 stars)
“Archer has a gift of creating characters with depth, growth and confidence that will leave all urban fantasy lovers wanting more.”
—Night Owl Reviews (Top Pick)
“I spent the entire novel compulsively reading, racing to the finish to see what would happen.”
—Bitten by Books
“The best so far… I SERIOUSLY CHEERED… an action-packed piece of excellence.”
—Happy Tails and Tales
“A must read for fans of urban fantasy and dystopian fairy tales where Armageddon is only the beginning, not the end.”
—The Reading Café
“A thrilling adventure that brings Noon and her Guardian Angel Rafe literally to the gates of Hell… inspired and exhilarating… well-written and believable… unexpected but pleasing…”
—The Qwillery
“Tumultuous relationships and dangerous adventures in [an] unforgiving, demon-haunted world.”
—Proud Nerd Book Reviews
“A homage to Noon’s independence…. White Heart of Justice delves deep into a quest of magic, freedom, redemption and love.”
—Tower of Babel
“[Noon’s] growth over the course of these books is immense and heartfelt.”
—That’s What I’m Talking About
“Action, adventure, romance, humor, suspense, danger, deception…Pick up the entire series and give it a read… Fans of fantasy and paranormal novels will definitely enjoy.”
—What the Cat Read
FIERY EDGE OF STEEL
“Archer delves deeper into the enticing and magical world of Dark Light of Day in this original and clever urban fantasy.”
—Publishers Weekly
“The second Noon Onyx story is an astounding adventure tale… This is proving to be a really fresh and fascinating series!”
—RT Book Reviews (4 stars)
“Darkly disturbing in the very best of ways, with complex characters, extremely detailed scenes, and a believability that sucks you in like world-bending magic.”
—Bitten By Books
“Archer has created a unique civilization, populated with angels, demons, [and] humans… A fantastic blend of danger, adventure, magic, love, and the quest for truth.”
—The Qwillery
“The themes are ethereal… leaving lots of space for subjective interpretation… If you like a mix of medieval, modern and fantasy with a kick-ass heroine, this is the series for you!”
—Fangs, Wands, and Fairy Dust
“Thickly layered… a journey into unfamiliar territory, marked by danger, betrayal, and surprises.”
—Kings River Life
“I loved getting to know [Rafe and Fara] and hope that they are both still part of future books!”
—Feed Your Fiction Addiction
“I still love Noon’s wonderfully sardonic sense of humour. She’s sensitive, cautious, smart… She’s always struggling with her inner morals that clash against the world she lives in.”
—Tower of Babel
“Entertaining and addicting. I am invested in these characters and cannot wait to see what future books bring to this series.”
—Night Owl Reviews
“Set in an engrossing fantasy world brimming with magic, creatures, and … adventure…. An excellent balance between fantastical action and romance.”
—Proud Nerd Book Reviews
DARK LIGHT OF DAY
“A spectacular debut novel.”
—USA Today bestselling author Faith Hunter
“A brilliant character who struggles against fate to find her place in the world. Set against the backdrop of university life, there is an abundance of adventure, mystery and passion!”
—RT Book Reviews
“Delightfully dark and unique.”
—Bitten By Books
“Archer is now down on my ‘never miss’ author list.”
—Night Owl Reviews
“[A] fascinating story line… Archer has created a dark world that will grab your attention from the very start.”
—The Reading Café
“Well written and fast paced urban fantasy with unique characters and a multi-layered plot.”
—A Dream within a Dream
“Ari is powerful, dangerous… and sexy, but he can also sometimes be sweet and sensitive…. Loved Noon’s Hyrke friends, Ivy and Fitz too!!”
—Feed Your Fiction Addiction
“Rogue demons wreaking havoc, mysterious disappearances, magic learning, social boundaries, love and betrayal and secrets… everything is masterfully merged.”
—Tower of Babel
“Anyone who reads fantasy, romance, or especially a combination of the two should thoroughly enjoy.”
—Proud Nerd Book Reviews
The Noon Onyx Series by Jill Archer
DARK LIGHT OF DAY
FIERY EDGE OF STEEL
WHITE HEART OF JUSTICE
POCKET FULL OF TINDER
POCKET FULL
OF TINDER
JILL ARCHER
BLACK WILLOW BOOKS
POCKET FULL OF TINDER
Copyright 2016 by Black Willow, LLC
All rights reserved.
Thank you for buying an authorized version of this book and for not reproducing, scanning, copying, transmitting, circulating, mass sharing via a storage and retrieval system, or distributing any part of it, in any form, without first obtaining the permission of the author. By complying with copyright laws, you are supporting writers and helping them to write more books for you to enjoy.
To contact the publisher,
please address your inquiry to:
P.O. Box 381
Shrewsbury, Pennsylvania 17361-0381
PUBLISHING HISTORY:
Ebook edition/December 2016
ISBN: 978-0-9979138-0-4
Paperback edition/December 2016
ISBN: 978-0-9979138-1-1
Cover art by Rebecca Frank
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, events
, and locations are imaginary or used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or to any business is coincidental.
www.jillarcher.com
PROLOGUE
Ari
Last year
Second semester
He’d been traveling for weeks, following the river westward. A great aerial beast with a broken wing trying to follow the curving lines of a bigger, blacker beast on terra firma. Beneath him, the Lethe River twisted and writhed. Every left turn was agonizing. The wing, bent at an unnatural angle, caught wind where it shouldn’t. The drag was enormous. He often felt as if he were drowning, his wings clasping at the edges of a whirlpool whose edges grew taller and steeper as it closed in on him. And then he’d have to push, soaring up into the air again with labored breathing that sounded louder than a blue whale’s blowhole.
As he neared New Babylon he kept a keen eye on the water, searching for boats and sails and men. Men who may not have seen a drakon in decades, perhaps longer. Men who would sound an alarm and alert others to his presence. It was the type of homecoming he wished to avoid.
So he’d flown at night and timed his arrival with the new moon. All below was black and gray. Far off there were tall ships lit by lanterns, but closer (thank Luck closer) was his goal – Bradbury’s docks.
A man without fire or an electric torch would have been blind. But to a drakon, the world seemed drawn with charcoal and smudged with starlight. Another night, with a different wing and the company he sought, he might have thought it beautiful.
He smelled the river and the city, the scents of men and the rich food they liked to eat. Loud, boisterous voices rose from the waterside inns, saloons, and taverns. He clenched his jaw and banked left across the water toward Etincelle, straightening again – or at least trying to – before he got too close. With a last, desperate push up he rose above the Lethe, beating his inefficient wings against the midnight sky, until he found warm air to ride down, circling… waiting… watching for anyone who might still be at the docks. He did not want to be seen in drakon form.
He landed less gracefully than he would have liked, skidding to a halt just before hitting a crate that would have tumbled into the Lethe had he not finally found purchase on the dock with his claws. With a last glance around, he shifted.
Wings collapsed. Snout, jaws, and teeth were reabsorbed. Claws disintegrated, turning to dust. Tail wriggled and twisted, curling inward, like a snake eating itself. Lungs and heart halved. And then halved again. Head pounding, body shaking, Ari fell to his knees, his right palm pressed against the dock, his left arm cradled uselessly against his side.
He was home.
Sticking to the darker parts of alleys and streets he’d known since infancy, he made his way to the Carmine rowhouse, picked the lock with waning magic, and quietly slipped through the door. Avoiding the creakiest boards in the hall, he made his way to his old bedroom and found clothes – a pair of worn canvas pants and a ripped tunic that Joy had mended. He’d find a pair of boots later. He was tempted to fall into bed immediately, but shifting hadn’t taken away his hunger or his memory of how good New Babylon’s food had smelled.
Less carefully and much more hastily, he walked to the kitchen and was just about to open the ice box when his mother’s voice stopped him.
“Aristos, I raised you better than that. Open that door and you could ruin half of what’s in there.”
He dropped his hand from the ice box’s handle and turned around.
Joy Carmine stood in the doorway of her kitchen clad in a turquoise nightgown. Her white hair was unbound and her pink eyes concerned once she saw the tunic he was wearing. She likely recognized it as one she’d stitched up not long ago. She walked over to him and gently lifted his left arm. It gave the impression of two elbows, each locked at an odd angle. She raised her gaze to his face.
“She found out, didn’t she?”
An hour later, Ari was seated across from Joy and Steve at the Carmines’ kitchen table. Steve was dressed in worn but well-mended clothes and everyone, despite the hour, had a mug of beer in front of them. The leftovers from at least three different meals (collops of rabbit, onion pie, and broiled sturgeon) were now in Ari’s stomach and he’d told them of the trip to the Shallows: how he’d been the unintended target of a revelation spell, that Noon had broken up with him after learning he’d been hiding his true nature from her, and that he’d spent the last two months wallowing in his misery and the swamps of the eastern hinterlands.
Steve received the news with a hard look. All three of them had disagreed from time to time on whether and when Ari should embrace his demon heritage. Drakons were unusual and rare creatures, more feared than revered. Throughout his childhood, there’d been a careful balancing of interests. Early on, there’d been some talk of trying to find another home for him, but Joy had never been for it and besides… who? Where? No legend had ever spoken of a drakon being raised in a happy home. There were no stories of law-abiding regulare drakons, only villainous rogare ones, which seemed to seal Ari’s fate. Joy was determined his life’s course would be different. That he would be different. Almost from birth, he had been discouraged from shifting into his true form.
Before he was even a year old, Joy had convinced Steve not to reveal the extent of Ari’s abilities. After all, drakons were maligned and misunderstood. And it wasn’t as if they were breaking any rules. Unlike Maegesters, demons were under no obligation to live any particular type of life. So he’d been taught to value his magic. To control it, and use it only for worthy purposes. As a Maegester might.
His first lover, the Patron Demon of Waves and Waterbirds, had known the full extent of Ari’s abilities. But she’d never understood his choice to reject his full rights as a demon or his emotional attachment to the Carmines. Halja’s Hyrkes were supposed to be his followers, not his family. That last word was always said with a huff of impatience, as if Ari were too young to understand how the world worked. Cliodna may have been one of the loveliest creatures Ari had ever seen (her true form was that of a shapely, starlight-colored swan, so unique to the demon world it had its own name – rara avis), but her signature had forever felt like wet feathers to him – cold, damp, and full of quills. Lying with her had been like sleeping on a bed of water-logged hay. He’d broken it off with her long ago.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Steve said. “A human female with waning magic? Who also happens to be the executive’s daughter? Nouiomo Onyx is like a white wyvern. Singularly unique, but dangerous. You should have stayed with the white swan.”
Ari made a derisive sound, but said nothing. In one respect his father was right. If he’d stayed with Cliodna, he would not feel as hollow and empty as he did now. Leaving Cliodna had been a relief, but leaving Noon had been almost impossible.
“What will you do now?” Joy asked. “Is returning to St. Luck’s out of the question?”
He nodded—
A loud banging on the Carmines’ door interrupted their discussion. Abruptly, everyone stood up. Steve frowned and started toward the door. Ari moved as if to follow but Joy stopped him. “It’s the neighbors,” she said. “When they find you—”
“—We’ve talked about this,” Ari said, tamping down his impatience. “You can’t see the future. No one can.”
She met his gaze grimly, refusing to flinch from the truth she thought she saw. She’d always been like that. It wasn’t just Joy’s immunity to magic that had allowed her to raise a drakon. But he refused to let her words – or her improbable visions – convince him that he didn’t have a chance. That they didn’t have a chance….
He’d always believed that Luck could be persuaded by his will. That he could have what he wanted as long as he wanted it badly enough. But now… wanting Noon… and knowing that she didn’t want him…. His mother’s mention of happiness wasn’t an accident. They both knew full well that if he wanted Nouiomo Onyx, he could “have” her, as any demon might. But Ari did
n’t just want her body; he wanted her heart. He wanted to be happy.
With her.
Always.
Or at least for the rest of Noon’s hopefully long-lived life.
He left as smoke and shadow. It wasn’t a form that came naturally or easily to him. But as he slipped through the Carmines’ open transom window, he knew he’d made the right choice. Below him, too anxious and edgy to notice a wisp of smoke trailing out of the house and into the night, was a mob of fishermen, dock workers, and river whalers. They stood in the street, clustered around Steve, clutching torches, lances, and harpoons.
“Ari’s not here,” Steve said, sounding unconcerned. “He sailed east toward the Shallows month before last. But the runner will bring back one of the executive’s Maegesters before long and he will search the docks. Even if what Donny saw was a drakon, don’t try and hunt it down. You’ll only get yourselves killed. Go home.” The men shifted on their feet, eyeing the sky nervously. When they still showed no signs of clearing out, Steve prompted.
“A warm bed and your wife… or possible evisceration and incineration? I know which choice I’m making.” When Steve turned back toward his door, a few of the men chuckled. After all, how likely was it that a drakon had come to Bradbury?
Thank Luck, that drakon would be long gone before sunlight revealed his claw marks on the dock. Big as plowed furrows and undeniable evidence that something large and deadly had landed there.
Part I