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  Praise for the Noble Dead Saga

  “A mix of The Lord of the Rings and

  Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

  — New York Times bestselling

  author Kevin J. Anderson

  Of Truth and Beasts

  “With several twists and surprises, this series is never predictable [and] the impressively shocking, climactic ending left me wanting more…. Don’t miss this exciting series of magic, mythical creatures, and incredible lore.”

  —SciFiChick.com

  “A crowd-pleasing mix of intrigue, epic fantasy, and horror.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Of Truth and Beasts…once again allows the reader the rare opportunity to travel into the uniquely imaginative realms that only [the Hendees] can create with such power and grace…. These novels are an integral and enlightening part of the Noble Dead Saga, which in total is no simple myth but rather a true epic [that] stands at the highest levels of fantasy lore…. The Hendees’ style of writing is verbally arresting, leaving the reader unable to put the novel down. They are a talented team of storytellers who are able to build a world that is both foreign and familiar…. This novel is a masterful conglomeration of manipulations, collusions, and deceits [that] allow for a situation where nothing is what it seems…. The only thing that could have topped the Hendees’ whirlwind ending was their epilogue, which will undoubtedly make the Noble Dead Saga fans stand up and cheer. I, for one, am hooked and eagerly await the next incarnation [of] this hypnotizing series.”

  —BookSpot Central

  “A fabulous thriller.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “The antagonists are strong, convincing forces with private agendas that add satisfying twists to another excellent addition to the series.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “Plenty of action…. Fans of the Noble Dead will enjoy the book.”

  —Booklist

  “The Hendees excel at delivering action and intrigue.”

  —Romantic Times (4 stars)

  Through Stone and Sea

  “A textured canvas of tangled plots, hidden alliances, secret myths conjured from fantasy’s best-known landscapes, and unique characters who will surely take their place in the annals of fantasy.”

  —BookSpot Central

  “Suspenseful adventure…incredible world building, and intriguing characters are the best part of this questlike fantasy.”

  —SciFiChick.com

  In Shade and Shadow

  “The Hendees, if given a chance to complete their entire saga, may yet produce a combined fantasy masterwork that will surely stand on the highest pinnacles of literary fantasy lore.”

  —BookSpot Central

  “A nicely nuanced tale…. The authors use a deft touch to keep the pacing even and set the stage for future adventures in this endlessly intriguing horror-fantasy mix.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  Child of a Dead God

  “Readers who love vampire novels will appreciate the full works of Barb and J. C. Hendee, as they consistently provide some of the genre’s best…. The audience will want to read this novel in one sitting.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Complex and bloody…. Interspecies distrust, grand ambitions, and the lure of dangerous secrets protected by the undead drive the action in this neat mix of horror with more traditional fantasy elements.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Rebel Fay

  “Entertaining…a hybrid crossing Tolkienesque fantasy with vampire-infused horror…intriguing.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A real page-turner.”

  —Booklist

  Traitor to the Blood

  “A rousing and sometimes creepy fantasy adventure…this is one of those books for which the term ‘dark fantasy’ was definitely intended.”

  —Chronicle

  “A unique tale of vampires and half-vampire undead hunters set against a dark fantasy world ruled by tyrants. The personal conflicts of the heroes mirror the larger struggles in their world and provide a solid foundation for this tale of love and loyalty in a world of betrayal.”

  —Library Journal

  Sister of the Dead

  “[A] wonderful addition to the Noble Dead series…Sister of the Dead leads us on an amazing adventure that will keep you engrossed until the final chapter…. This is a series that will appeal to both horror and fantasy fans.”

  —SF Site

  “[An] intelligent dark fantasy series…. Much more than a medieval ‘Buffy Does the Dark Ages,’ Sister of the Dead and its predecessors involve readers on a visceral, highly emotional level and fulfill a craving for nifty magic, exciting action scenes, and a strong heroine who defies genre cliches.”

  —Romantic Times (4 stars)

  Thief of Lives

  “Readers will turn the pages of this satisfying medieval thriller with gusto.”

  —Booklist

  “Fans of Anita Blake will enjoy this novel. The characters are cleverly drawn so that the several supernatural species that play key roles in the plot seem natural and real. Supernatural fantasy readers will enjoy this action-packed, strong tale, because vampires, sorcerers, dhampirs, elves, fey-canines, and other ilk seem real.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  Dhampir

  “Dhampir maintains a high level of excitement through interesting characters, both heroes and villains, colliding in well-written action scenes. Instead of overloading us with their world building and the maps and glossaries typical of so much fantasy, the Hendees provide well-rounded characters that go a lot further than maps in making a lively fantasy world.”

  —The Denver Post

  “An engaging adventure that is both humorous and exciting.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Kevin J. Anderson

  “An altogether compelling and moving work…. These are characters and a world worthy of exploration.”

  —Brian Hodge, Hellnotes

  By Barb Hendee

  THE MIST-TORN WITCHES SERIES

  The Mist-Torn Witches

  THE VAMPIRE MEMORIES SERIES

  Blood Memories

  Hunting Memories

  Memories of Envy

  In Memories We Fear

  Ghosts of Memories

  By Barb and J. C. Hendee

  THE NOBLE DEAD SAGA—SERIES ONE

  Dhampir

  Thief of Lives

  Sister of the Dead

  Traitor to the Blood

  Rebel Fay

  Child of a Dead God

  THE NOBLE DEAD SAGA—SERIES TWO

  In Shade and Shadow

  Through Stone and Sea

  Of Truth and Beasts

  THE NOBLE DEAD SAGA—SERIES THREE

  Between Their Worlds

  The Dog in the Dark

  THE

  MIST-TORN

  WITCHES

  BARB HENDEE

  ROC

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

  USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  For more information about the Penguin Group visit penguin.com.

  First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, May 2013

  Copyright © Barb Hendee, 2013

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed o
r electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  ISBN: 978-1-101-60569-1

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  For my beautiful daughter, Jaclyn, who was my first reader

  here…and who gave me hope.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  PROLOGUE

  SHETNA VILLAGE IN THE WESTERN REGION OF DROEVINKA

  My name is Céline Fawe, and I am a Mist-Torn witch.

  By the age of fifteen, I had no idea what this meant, as none of my powers had manifested yet. I only knew that my mother had just died, that the apothecary shop she’d owned was now mine, and that I had to provide for my twelve-year-old sister, Amelie. My father had been killed long ago, and with my mother’s passing, the two of us were alone.

  What would you have done?

  I did what anyone would do—I fell back upon my only strengths: the abilities to listen and to lie.

  Of course, I didn’t even know about those two skills until the week after Amelie and I had buried our mother and a young man came through the front door of our shop. His eyes were wild, shifting back and forth, reminding me of a colt locked in a stall for the first time.

  But I was still so numb that I could barely draw breath, and I didn’t care what he wanted or why he’d come.

  “I have an appointment,” he said hesitantly, “with Eleanor.”

  Eleanor was my mother.

  “She’s dead,” I answered.

  To my surprise, the flash of disappointment on his face moved me, and for the first time, I really looked at him. He was medium height, with brown hair tucked behind his ears, wearing a burgundy tunic and a sword. I guessed him to be about eighteen.

  “Dead?” he repeated. “No…She was going to tell me…”

  He trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish. My mother had been a seer, and he wanted to know something about his future. I was just about to tell him to go away when I spotted the small pouch of coins in his hand.

  I tensed. I was no seer, not like my mother. I could grow healing herbs and cast small spells to stop bad dreams or ease the pain of unrequited love, but I was no seer.

  Still, the cupboard was nearly bare, and that pouch beckoned. Curing bad dreams didn’t exactly pay well.

  A risky idea struck me, and at that point, I had little left to lose.

  “I’m Eleanor’s daughter,” I said. “I have her gift. Sit down, and I can help you.”

  The relief washing over his face shamed me—but not enough to make me stop. I let him sit.

  “What is it you wish to know?” I asked.

  He sank down into the chair, facing me across my mother’s faded table. “I…I want to marry, but my father doesn’t approve.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Joselyn has no dowry. Her father has a title, but her family has no money, and my own father has been making arrangements with the Baron Driesè. Father expects me to marry the baron’s daughter, Rhiannon.”

  “And you don’t want to marry Rhiannon?”

  He began to shake his head and then stopped himself. “I don’t know! The baron controls half the silver mines in the northeastern province, and Rhiannon’s dowry would bring my family great wealth. Joselyn would bring us nothing.”

  I cocked my head. This seemed a simple decision to me. Marry the rich girl. But I knew my mother would not see it so simply.

  “Then what troubles you?” I asked. “Is Rhiannon ugly? Has her hair fallen out? Is she covered in pockmarks?”

  He blinked, possibly finding my questions somewhat childish, which they were, but keep in mind that I was only fifteen. “No, if anything, most people would find her prettier than Joselyn,” he said. “But when I’m with Joselyn, I don’t feel alone.”

  I stared at him, and that was my first real glimpse into the adult world.

  “If you don’t marry Rhiannon, can your father disinherit you?” I asked. Even at fifteen, I was pragmatic.

  “No.”

  That was all he had to tell me. I’d seen my mother do this a hundred times. “Did you bring something of Joselyn’s?” I asked, knowing my mother would have given him instructions.

  “Yes, a lock of her hair.”

  I took it from him, holding the soft, light brown strands in my fingers. With my other hand, I reached out to grasp one of his. He almost pulled away, as if he didn’t like being touched, but then let me grip his palm.

  I closed my eyes. Although of course I saw nothing, I forced my body to jolt once, and then I swayed several times, breathing through my mouth. I opened my eyes again.

  “Did you see it?” he asked, leaning forward. “Did you see my future?”

  “Yes,” I answered without wavering. “You marry Joselyn, and you are happy. I saw the two of you after your wedding, and everything was as it should be.”

  He sucked in a loud breath like a man saved from drowning and shoved the pouch across the table. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  That was how it started.

  CHAPTER 1

  FIVE YEARS LATER

  “I didn’t call you a liar,” Amelie Fawe said flatly. “I said you were trying to cheat me. There’s a difference.”

  Jareth, the village butcher, frowned at her while still holding two lamb chops in the air. They stood outside amidst the tables and booths of the morning market, with just a drizzle of rain coming down on their heads. But he was trying to overcharge her, and they both knew it.

  Amelie sighed. It wasn’t that she blamed him—or that she was even given to haggling over a few cuts of meat. But she and her sister, Céline, were among the dwindling number of people in Shetâna who had coins to spend. Most of the other villagers had been offering Jareth turnips in exchange for soup bones. Amelie had a feeling he was full up on turnips.

  She had no intention of threatening him, but out of habit, her hand settled on the hilt of the short sword at her left hip. In truth, she was much better with the dagger sheathed on her right, but the sword made a stronger impression—and occasionally, she needed one.

  Her sister, Céline, was slender and pretty, and Céline brought in most of the household’s money. They were a fiercely independent team, and Amelie had long ago taken on the task of protecting them both. They needed no one but each other.

  “All right,” Jareth said, not appearing the least bit intimidated by her hand dropping to the sword. “A halfpenny, then, but you’re robbing me blind.”

  She smiled at him and handed him a coin. “Céline asked after that rheumatism in your shoulder. Should I bring more of the bay leaf oil?”

  His expression softened, and he was about to answer when the sound of hoofbeats stopped him. Amelie followed his gaze to the main path leading into the village, and she saw four riders coming from the tree line.

  Three of them wore black tabards over chain armor, soldiers of Sub-Prince Damek. With distaste, Amelie recognized the man in the lead, Captain Kochè, the prince’s chief bullyboy and tax collector.
/>   “What do you suppose he wants?” Jareth said softly, putting the chops down and wiping his hands on his already bloody apron. “Taxes aren’t due for two months.”

  All around them, villagers in threadbare clothing began slinking away as quickly as possible, but Amelie kept her eyes on the soldiers.

  “Who’s that with them?” she asked, squinting.

  A fourth person—much smaller—in a full cloak rode just behind Captain Kochè.

  “I can’t tell,” Jareth answered.

  Amelie waited for the riders to come all the way into the village; then her stomach tightened when they began to pull their horses up just outside the village perimeter at a small two-story building with a painted sign that read, LAVENDER AND THYME.

  It was the apothecary shop that she owned with her sister.

  It was also their home.

  All four riders stopped directly in front of the shop, and Captain Kochè swung off onto the ground.

  “Oh, seven hells,” Amelie gasped, forgetting about the lamb chops. “He’s going after Céline!”

  The smaller cloaked figure dismounted as well.

  Jareth grabbed a meat cleaver off the table. “You want me to come?”

  But Amelie was already running down the muddy path. “No,” she called, “I’ve got it.”

  She and Céline didn’t need anyone but each other.

  * * *

  Céline Fawe unfortunately had no appointments that day, so she’d planned to boil down some marshmallow leaves to make an astringent for insect bites and bee stings, as midspring had arrived, and there would soon be an abundance of insects. Humming, just a little off-key, she started the fire, hoping Amelie wouldn’t give Jareth too much trouble over the price of a few lamb chops. However, the two sisters didn’t have many extra pennies either…which was why she tended to send Amelie to the village market. It was cowardly and she knew it, but Amelie was much better at holding firm.

  Céline also knew that even while just scraping by, she and Amelie lived better than almost anyone in Shetâna. But they also lived slightly apart from everyone else as well. Their little shop, with the bedroom upstairs, had been built just outside the village as if it didn’t quite belong with the other shops and dwellings. She and Amelie had always felt that way about themselves, too. Though their father had grown up in Shetâna, their mother, Eleanor, had come from someplace else, which she never spoke of. He’d been one of the village hunters, and apparently, after an extended hunt one year, he’d come back with a bride—and he’d promptly built her an apothecary’s shop and home for them to share. Eleanor could read and write, and she arrived with her own texts and scrolls on herb lore. She made certain both her girls were literate, although Céline had taken more willingly to scholarly pursuits.