Then, at the beginning of 2022, we got the big push we needed to start. Monika and LipJ, two dancers from the survival show Street Woman Fighter, were cast in the reality TV programme DIY Family. The two were members of the same dance crew, Proudman, and like Hana and me, have been living together for years. Before the show was broadcast, the producers called us to explain that they were creating a show focusing on found families, and asked for permission to name their show after the phrase ‘DIY family’, which they’d come across in our book. Imagine our surprise when we turned on the TV to see LipJ recommending our book to the world! This is our moment! Now’s our chance! We named our podcast and recorded our first two episodes, ‘DIY Family? Here’s Where it All Started’ and ‘Being in Your Forties Isn’t So Bad’
See you next book
Fight it, he willed her, sending the words down the bond—the mating
bond, which perhaps had settled into place that first moment they’d become
carranam, hidden beneath flame and ice and hope for a better future. Fight
her. I am coming for you. Even if it takes me a thousand years. I will find
you, I will find you, I will find you.
Only salt and wind and water answered him.
Rowan rose to his feet. And slowly turned to face them.
But their attention snagged on the ships now sailing out of the west—
from the battle site. His cousins’ ships, with what remained of the fleet
Ansel of Briarcliff had won for them, and Rolfe’s three ships.
But it was not those boats that made him pause.
It was the one that rounded the eastern tip of the land—a longboat. It
swept closer on a phantom wind, too fast to be natural.
Rowan braced himself. The boat’s shape didn’t belong to any of the
fleets assembled. But its style nagged at his memory.
From their own fleet, Ansel of Briarcliff and Enda were soaring over the
waves in a longboat, aiming for this beach.
But Rowan and the others watched in silence as the foreign boat crested
through the surf and slid onto the sand.
Watched the olive-skinned sailors haul it up the beach. A broadshouldered young man nimbly leaped out, his slightly curling dark hair
tossed in the sea breeze.
He did not emit a whiff of fear as he stalked for them—didn’t even go
for the comforting touch of the fine sword at his side.
“Where is Aelin Galathynius?” the stranger asked a bit breathlessly as
he scanned them.
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He protects the children
“This…this is a fortress belonging to the royal family. Or a rogue
branch of them. The Blue Dragon Project. I saw it labelled on a map. Is it a
weapon? Is the Blue Dragon a weapon of some kind?”
“Is it a what?” she asks incredulously. She blinks a few times, then lets
out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, it’s a weapon. It’s horrific. The children
scream when they use it. So, who the fuck are you?”
Slowly, I start to put together why she looks familiar. The dark hair, the
bright silver of her eyes that blends to blue. The straight, black eyebrows.
“Do you know someone named Ysolde?” I ask.
She goes still, gripping my collar with her free hand. The blade eases
just a little from my throat. “Where did you get that name?”
It’s her.
I suck in a deep breath. “I know your brother. Raphael.”
Her eyes widen, jaw dropping open. “Where is he?”
Of course, I’d love to help with their family reunion, but I have a job to
do right now. “I’ll tell you what I know, once you tell me what you know.
What’s the Blue Dragon Project?”
She narrows her eyes. She’s breathing heavily, debating whether she
should kill me now or let me live. But she’s not going to sever the one
thread that would lead her back to her brother. “Okay, then. Let me show
you. We’ll take a walk down the stairs. I’m removing my knife from your
throat, but make a sudden move, and I’ll slit your throat so fast, you won’t
even have time to scream.”
I give her a nod.
Slowly, she eases the blade off my neck, keeping a vise-like grip on my
Raphael
I flip through his thoughts, searching deeper. The prisoner. Does he
know anything about a beautiful, silver-eyed demi-Fey?
The prisoner has been here for some time. Captured in the war with the
humans, but they didn’t put him with the rest of the rabble. He’s too
valuable, for some reason. Doesn’t seem particularly valuable to Cadoc.
Just another half-breed mongrel…
My heart skips a beat. Raphael.
I invade Cadoc’s every thought, sifting through ideas, memories,
everything he knows. I’m ravaging the inside of his skull, grasping the
threads, then pulling the strings to bend him to my will.
Now, Cadoc wonders if the prisoner is literally valuable.
Maybe he’s rich. In fact, he’s probably rich, or they’d leave him with the
rest, right? If Cadoc will just do this tiny thing, just unlock the door, the
prisoner might reward him handsomely. Yes. That’s what he should do.
Odelia will fall back in love with him, and his father will get his job back in
the stables. Cadoc absolutely shouldn’t question this drunk lady more
because she’s a distraction from what’s really important. She’s just a tiny
woman, a drunken musician, not worthy of his notice.
When I withdraw from his mind, he stares at me, dazed. Then, without a
word, he pulls a skeleton key from his belt and opens a door into yet
another torchlit stairwell.
I follow him down a flight of stairs, the air growing staler, like wet earth
and mushrooms.
My heart is pounding as he leads me to another wooden door. He slides
a second key into a rusty lock, turns it twice, and pushes the door open.
The Test Scores
My breath catches. They’re about to announce the torcs.
I watch as the trio of judges confer for a few minutes in a tense huddle.
Viviane is pulling out papers, pointing to them.
I swallow hard.
At last, Viviane turns to the arena, and the wind whips at her blonde
hair. “Tana Campbell,” she bellows. “Silver!”
Darius grabs my arm in a death grip, grinning. “She’s a knight! She’s a
fucking knight.”
“Serana O’Rourke,” Viviane calls out. “Silver!”
I feel the grin splitting my face from ear to ear. “Holy shit. This almost
makes up for the fact that Tarquin and Horatio got gold.”
“They’re going to be insufferable. Well, they didn’t earn theirs, did
they? Tarquin lost to you. But these torcs actually make sense.” Darius is
bouncing in his seat, and he reaches down to pick up a blue paper bag. “I
knew it. I fucking knew it. I mean, I didn’t realize it would be silver, but I
knew they’d pass. Obviously.”
Burning with rage, I pull at my magic, and it fuels the hot crimson
inside me. I don’t bother searching for a weak spot. I hurl my magic at the
veil, my teeth grinding together. To my right, the veil mage stumbles, then
falls flat on his back. The buzz of the veil sputters and dies, and silence fills
the hall. I hear only my own pounding pulse.
When the mist is completely silent and no longer buzzing over my skin,
I stride inside.
Pearly white fog wraps around me. My foot kicks something, and I hear
The Culling Test
“Wow, demi-Fey? I’ve never seen one. What did they look like?”
“Fucking weird, pardon my language. The man had pointy ears,
obviously. Dark hair. Tattoos on his arms, eerie silver eyes like metal.
Beautiful blonde woman with him. You know, I don’t mind the women
demi-Fey quite as much. I’d give her one,” he says thoughtfully. “Pardon
the expression.”
I toss a horseshoe, and it clatters to the floor of his stall. A thought starts
to blossom in my mind. “Did they have anything with them?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
I open my eyes wide. “Well, like you said, they’re dangerous. And you
know the saying, if you see something, say something.”
He holds up a finger. “Do you know what, love? The fella was carrying
something. It was in a box, like a musical instrument or something. They
never brought it out again.” His eyes widen. “Do you think they could be
planning something? You don’t think it was a bomb, do you?” He scrubs a
hand over his mouth. “With all these people here? Should I call the police?”
I toss both horseshoes one after the other, so off the mark that one
nearly hits one of the prize dolls. “It’s probably nothing. I doubt demi-Fey
even know how to make a bomb. We don’t want the police shutting the
whole fair down over an empty box.”
What I know at this point is that Raphael and Vivian came in earlier and
left a package here, then left.
The Excalibur replica.
“We will obviously need to reschedule the shadow trial.” Wrythe sighs.
“Ms. Melisende can do it properly with the rest of the cadets.”