The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

Never accept a picture of defeat. A mantra Taliyah lived by. She’d fight until she succeeded or died for real. “I believe your husband the king divorced you when you murdered him that third time,” she said as her friend tossed her a T-shirt.

A while ago, Taliyah’s sister Kaia found herself betrothed to a Phoenix king. The girl had already fallen for a demon-possessed dude, though, and she’d refused to wed anyone else. To prevent an all-out war, Neeka had agreed to wed the guy instead. She’d owed Taliyah a big favor. Huge! See, a few weeks before, Taliyah had killed her favorite avatar in her favorite video game to save Neeka’s favorite avatar. The loss cut deep.

The wedding should have been a typical Friday night. Murder a king before the honeymoon kicked off, loot his treasury, free the immortals he’d kept as slaves and put his palace in their rearview. And they’d done it.

They’d known the king would revive, and they’d looked forward to the ensuing war. What they hadn’t expected? His ability to find Neeka anywhere. Needing a secret lair, Taliyah had bargained with friends to buy time in a place known as the Realm of Blood and Shadows. There, she’d mined rare and precious bloodgold buried in the mountains, which she’d then used to purchase time in this world. The Realm of the Forgotten.

The beauty of this place? As the name suggested, everyone everywhere forgot you the moment you entered. Unless, of course, they bore a special tattoo to remember you.

“As soon as I gain control of the harpy army,” Taliyah said, “we will destroy the phoenix. You have my word.”

The muscles in Neeka’s shoulders suddenly bunched with tension. “The collision...it’s already happened.”

Collision? “What are you talking about?”

“They’re here.” Her friend’s gaze drifted far, far away, to a land unseen by others. “The game has begun.”

“What game?” Taliyah asked, only then realizing the harpy was in the midst of a vision.

“He has drawn his cards. Now he plays his hand. Prepare. The next move is yours.”

The bedroom door swung open, hinges whining. Tabitha Skyhawk, mother of four, matron of dishonor, merciless killer and perpetual bachelorette, stumbled inside the chamber. She looked as if she’d just escaped a blender. Battered, bruised and bloody. She clutched an arm to her chest: her hand was missing. Fear clung to her like a second skin.

Blood freezing in her veins, Taliyah leaped to her feet. Despite waves of pain and dizziness, she remained upright. Grit and resolve served her well. “What happened?”

“Harpina,” Tabitha croaked. She tripped forward, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. Crimson wetted her pale, waxen skin and splattered her torn clothing. She just kind of fell onto the foot of the bed. “A fog rolled in, and a massive wall appeared. Nine monsters stood before it. The battle bell sounded, and we rushed to engage. The monsters had no weapons, yet they severed harpy hands and feet in seconds. Bodies began to vanish. So many of us, just gone. The survivors did the unthinkable. We...surrendered. I flashed out to find help.”

Taliyah’s stomach turned inside out. Harpies had surrendered? A horror too abhorrent to bear. She scooped up the first-aid kit and got busy tending her mother’s most concerning wounds.

“Who’s dead?” she demanded. Anyone she knew? Each of her sisters lived in the mortal world. Aunt Tamera had died in battle more than a century ago, too injured to regenerate, ensuring Taliyah’s heart bore a scar with her name. “What monsters?”

With her remaining hand, Tabitha shoved inky strands of hair from her face. “I don’t know. I...don’t know,” she repeated lamely.

“Nissa is dead,” Neeka intoned, going deeper into the vision. “The leader killed her.” A gasp. “Blythe.”

“Blythe was there?” Dread slapped Taliyah. Eight years ago, Blythe had found her consort—the male fate chose for her. She’d given up her virginity, right along with her desire to become General. Seven years ago, she’d birthed a child. A beautiful little girl named Isla. Someone Taliyah loved. “Was Isla with her?”

Eyes stark, Tabitha nodded. “Yes. And yes.”

Taliyah knelt in front of the woman who’d trained her to harness the worst pain imaginable and keep fighting. To fall and stand up, even if your legs were broken. “Tell me everything I need to know.”

“I wish I could,” her mother rasped. “All I know is that Blythe and Isla ran. Isla fell, and Blythe backtracked. I worked my way over, but I—I couldn’t find them again. I don’t know whose...pieces lay on the ground.”

A barbed lump grew in Taliyah’s throat before falling and settling in the pit of her stomach. “Whatever their injuries, they’ll recover.” Her sister had experienced as many deaths as Taliyah, reviving never a problem. Why would things change now?

Isla had her own phantom abilities, despite never dying.

“The monsters... I’ve seen nothing like them. So cold, so cruel. They shredded anyone who approached them. There was so much blood.” Tabitha the Vicious peered at Taliyah with grave eyes. “Save our people, daughter. Save them all.”