Format: Hardcover, 432 pages
Release Date: January 3, 2023
Publisher: Disney Hyperion
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Dark Fantasy
Fate does not choose the weak. Fate chooses the ready.
Illustros
is a cursed realm ruled by the ruthless Gods of Fate, and no one
understands the Fates’ wrath more than Calliope Rosewood. Blessed with
unspeakable powers that terrify even the most dangerous witches and fae,
Calla hides her forbidden magic in shame and fear that one wrong touch
could send her to her death. With only her two best friends in tow,
Calla deserted her coven and has been on the run ever since.
Worse,
Calla is concealing an even darker secret: fate has chosen her as the
final prophesied Blood Warrior, the being destined to start the Fates’
War, which will decimate her people and eradicate their magic.
After
a betrayal from her infuriating ex Ezra leads her one step closer to
fulfilling that age-old prophecy, Calla is desperate to do whatever it
takes to reset her fate. So when a mysterious and charming witch offers
to help Calla do just that, she immediately agrees to his plan. Only
catch? That plan includes journeying into the deadly Neverending Forest with
Ezra and said witch, who just so happens to be Ezra’s tempting older
brother. Torn between her past desires and alluring new possibilities,
Calla brings along her best friends to fight what lies ahead.
As
the group ventures into the enchanted woods together, they’ll all soon
learn that choosing your destiny comes with dire consequences . . . and
the Fates are not to be tested. Calla believes the Fates have it out for
her, while others believe they have chosen her for a reason. But in the
end, Calla will have to fight to forge her own destiny and decide if
the risk of choosing herself is worth the possibility of damning
everyone else.
A Ruinous Fate is the first installment in author Kaylie Smith's Witch's Dice series. Enter a world on the brink of war where one
more Roll from a magical dice may set a witch with a secret down a
dangerous path. Featuring a diverse cast of characters, and majestic
world-building, this is the first book in a planned YA fantasy series by
debut rising star Kaylie Smith. The story takes place in a unique and magical
world, with different magical beings and abilities like sirens, witches,
Valkyries, sprites, siphons, and so many more.
Calliope (Calla) Rosewood is a young Rouge witch essentially
trying to outrun her fate. Due to a dangerous curse, and being a dangerous Siphon, Calla left her
coven 4-years ago and has been living a life of secrecy with her best
friends, Hannah and Delphine, who is a siren, ever since. She has an amazing relationship with Hannah and Delphine. They’re all outcasts in their own
way, and they form this little found family. In addition to
her curse, Calla has marks on her skin that display her past rolls of the
Witch's Dice. These marks indicate Calla is very close to fulfilling
the legend of becoming the last Blood Warrior.
After a horrendous night where she is betrayed
by her ex, Ezra Black, Calla finds herself one-step closer to fulfilling her
fate. Then she meets someone who offers her the chance to erase her
previous rolls for good. Of course she's suspicious. She thought she was
the only one with rolls this bad, but according to this guy, he has the
same rolls. He's heard of a spell that can be performed by the notorious
Witch Eater that can erase their marks and clear the slate. Gideon needs Calla's help gathering the ingredients needed to perform the spell. He's also a Prince and older brother of Ezra.
He
asks her to enter the deadly Neverending Forest with him on the
mission. This is where the Witch Eater lives and unfortunately the only
way they can complete their task. Joining Gideon and Calla on
their quest are Hannah and
Delphine as well as Ezra who thinks he can make up for his brutal mistake of working for Myrea. Hannah and Delphine are really good friends who will risk their lives in order to help Calla. The group, which also includes Kestrel & Caspian, enters the Neverending Forest and quickly
realize this is not to be a simple journey. Nothing in the forest is as
it appears, with the forest constantly changing and rearranging.
The fantastical elements of Estrella, where the stars twinkle blue and purple and there are three moons are impressive. There are also two Witch Queens; Lysandra, the Onyx Witch Queen, and Myrea, who has a bounty out on Calla's head, as well as trying to find the final Blood Warrior of prophecy. The Fates gave Witch's immortality, the Gods made (6) fated blood warriors. This story ends on a brutal note, and no, I am not going to spoil it. I will say that there's a betrayal at the end will get most people's attention, and thus will be eager to find out what happens next.
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After a few minutes of stalking through the streets, Calla could start
to make out the line of the Ashwoods appearing in the distance, the wind
carrying the familiar scent of leaves and pine. She shivered again. All
she had to do was make it five blocks to her tiny apartment. Maybe she
could finally take Delphine up on her offer to make Ezra go away for
good—
She lurched forward suddenly, gripping her neck as the air was violently ripped from her lungs. She clawed at her throat and whipped around to find Ezra stalking toward her, his dark hair and clothing silhouetted against the milky moonlight streaming behind him. His hands were too-casually shoved into the front pockets of his trousers as he strode closer and she hated how effortless he looked as he used his magic to pull the air from her throat. That he could easily suffocate her without breaking a sweat . . .
She hated him, she decided. Hated how he was a constant reminder that she was not as strong as she wanted to be. No matter how well he had taught her to gamble or take risks, he would always have the upper hand against her.
He is evermore on my shit list, she thought. If I ever get my hands on him again—
All thoughts vanished as the pressure in her chest approached a crescendo, and she sunk to her knees in pain. The Onyx bastard stopped right in front of her, crouching down until he was at her eye level, his mouth a grim line on his angular face and his coal eyes flamed with anger.
“You are going to take this from me,” he demanded, his voice low and deliberate as he thrust his fist out and revealed the cursed die in his palm.
She shook her head wildly, unsuccessfully trying to push his hand away.
“You will take it willingly, or I will suffocate you right here in the street.”
She glared and focused on summoning her magic to strike him. She managed a single shot of power into his core, using the last drop of her Rouge magic to tighten his veins and make him release his hold. It was barely long enough for her to gulp down a few breaths, however, before he easily regained his control. It was futile for her to make another attempt when all she could think about was the fire in her throat and the black spots creeping into the edges of her vision.
Calla desperately weighed her options.
She had only made three out of her six Rolls of Fate so far. Most witches had already used up all their rolls by the time they were her age, young and careless. Many witches thought nothing of being indebted to their coven’s queen—but Calla knew better. She had to admit, though, sacrificing her fourth Roll of Fate, here and now, instead of letting Ezra have the satisfaction of watching her struggle any longer, was starting to seem like the better of the two evils.
She glared at the Onyx witch.
“So? What’s your choice?” he leveled.
It took every ounce of control she had to jerk a single nod at him, and he released his magic. She tried to glare up at him as she gasped and coughed, swallowing as much air into her lungs as she could. Ezra thrust the die at her again.
Ignoring his persistence, she hauled herself to her feet, wobbling slightly from her lightheadedness. He gracefully stood with her and waited for her breathing to slow, watching her meet his gaze. His black irises were swirling with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher, and she quickly glanced away—back down to the red die in his hand.
Calla reached out slowly to grab the die from his palm. She felt her breathing hitch ever so slightly as the power from the die pulsed in the air, warming her fingertips as they hovered over it. Calla took a deep breath and finally plucked the small cube from his palm, a sick feeling of dread sinking like a stone to the bottom of her stomach. The die hummed in her hand and the burn of the magic sizzled through her core as the die’s fate transferred from Ezra to her.
She closed her fist around the die in defeat. Ezra didn’t grin like she thought he might in this moment. In fact, he didn’t look satisfied at all. Instead, the look he had on his face was so care- fully blank that Calla knew he was hiding something. All he managed to say to her was “It’s done.”
She watched him, cautious, as he turned away from her.
“Why?” she blurted desperately, cursing herself for giving away any hint that he had affected her. “Why would you bet a Witch’s Die? Why would you play another round if you had nothing else? Are you that cocky? Or do you just hate me that much?”
He stared at her for what felt like an eternity before he finally spoke again.
“I do what I am paid to.” Calla drew back.
“You are not nearly as sneaky as you think you are, Calla,” he continued. “I’ve been following you for the last few months without you suspecting anything. Did you think meeting another witch in Estrella was an accident? A coincidence?”
Calla’s hands shook, her nerves shot. “You—”
“All these months you’ve been slowly getting attached to me,” he cut her off, seeming almost agitated, his eyes burning brighter than usual. “Foolish girl. You trust much too easily, Calliope.”
Her face heated and she backed away from him. Calla did not appreciate continuously being called a girl, nor did she appreciate the use of her full name—as if she were a child he was admonishing.
He was right, though—she had been so foolish to get attached. The fact that she had even entertained seeing him tonight after everything . . . Calla’s penchant for hope was always her greatest vice.
“Why did you have to—” he began.
“Stop!” she yelled, not able to listen to any more of this. “Please, just stop—”
“Ezra.”
Calla and Ezra both whipped their heads toward the voice.
“We need to go,” the blue-haired Onyx witch from the inn ordered, the absolute authority in his voice clearly leaving no room for argument.
Ezra dipped his chin in acknowledgment before turning back toward Calla.
“Have fun with your roll,” he said flatly. “And, Calla?”
She looked at him evenly, her blood still boiling from his words. “Myrea says hello.”
With those last words he turned and stalked toward his friend.
Calla’s blood ran cold.
She lurched forward suddenly, gripping her neck as the air was violently ripped from her lungs. She clawed at her throat and whipped around to find Ezra stalking toward her, his dark hair and clothing silhouetted against the milky moonlight streaming behind him. His hands were too-casually shoved into the front pockets of his trousers as he strode closer and she hated how effortless he looked as he used his magic to pull the air from her throat. That he could easily suffocate her without breaking a sweat . . .
She hated him, she decided. Hated how he was a constant reminder that she was not as strong as she wanted to be. No matter how well he had taught her to gamble or take risks, he would always have the upper hand against her.
He is evermore on my shit list, she thought. If I ever get my hands on him again—
All thoughts vanished as the pressure in her chest approached a crescendo, and she sunk to her knees in pain. The Onyx bastard stopped right in front of her, crouching down until he was at her eye level, his mouth a grim line on his angular face and his coal eyes flamed with anger.
“You are going to take this from me,” he demanded, his voice low and deliberate as he thrust his fist out and revealed the cursed die in his palm.
She shook her head wildly, unsuccessfully trying to push his hand away.
“You will take it willingly, or I will suffocate you right here in the street.”
She glared and focused on summoning her magic to strike him. She managed a single shot of power into his core, using the last drop of her Rouge magic to tighten his veins and make him release his hold. It was barely long enough for her to gulp down a few breaths, however, before he easily regained his control. It was futile for her to make another attempt when all she could think about was the fire in her throat and the black spots creeping into the edges of her vision.
Calla desperately weighed her options.
She had only made three out of her six Rolls of Fate so far. Most witches had already used up all their rolls by the time they were her age, young and careless. Many witches thought nothing of being indebted to their coven’s queen—but Calla knew better. She had to admit, though, sacrificing her fourth Roll of Fate, here and now, instead of letting Ezra have the satisfaction of watching her struggle any longer, was starting to seem like the better of the two evils.
She glared at the Onyx witch.
“So? What’s your choice?” he leveled.
It took every ounce of control she had to jerk a single nod at him, and he released his magic. She tried to glare up at him as she gasped and coughed, swallowing as much air into her lungs as she could. Ezra thrust the die at her again.
Ignoring his persistence, she hauled herself to her feet, wobbling slightly from her lightheadedness. He gracefully stood with her and waited for her breathing to slow, watching her meet his gaze. His black irises were swirling with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher, and she quickly glanced away—back down to the red die in his hand.
Calla reached out slowly to grab the die from his palm. She felt her breathing hitch ever so slightly as the power from the die pulsed in the air, warming her fingertips as they hovered over it. Calla took a deep breath and finally plucked the small cube from his palm, a sick feeling of dread sinking like a stone to the bottom of her stomach. The die hummed in her hand and the burn of the magic sizzled through her core as the die’s fate transferred from Ezra to her.
She closed her fist around the die in defeat. Ezra didn’t grin like she thought he might in this moment. In fact, he didn’t look satisfied at all. Instead, the look he had on his face was so care- fully blank that Calla knew he was hiding something. All he managed to say to her was “It’s done.”
She watched him, cautious, as he turned away from her.
“Why?” she blurted desperately, cursing herself for giving away any hint that he had affected her. “Why would you bet a Witch’s Die? Why would you play another round if you had nothing else? Are you that cocky? Or do you just hate me that much?”
He stared at her for what felt like an eternity before he finally spoke again.
“I do what I am paid to.” Calla drew back.
“You are not nearly as sneaky as you think you are, Calla,” he continued. “I’ve been following you for the last few months without you suspecting anything. Did you think meeting another witch in Estrella was an accident? A coincidence?”
Calla’s hands shook, her nerves shot. “You—”
“All these months you’ve been slowly getting attached to me,” he cut her off, seeming almost agitated, his eyes burning brighter than usual. “Foolish girl. You trust much too easily, Calliope.”
Her face heated and she backed away from him. Calla did not appreciate continuously being called a girl, nor did she appreciate the use of her full name—as if she were a child he was admonishing.
He was right, though—she had been so foolish to get attached. The fact that she had even entertained seeing him tonight after everything . . . Calla’s penchant for hope was always her greatest vice.
“Why did you have to—” he began.
“Stop!” she yelled, not able to listen to any more of this. “Please, just stop—”
“Ezra.”
Calla and Ezra both whipped their heads toward the voice.
“We need to go,” the blue-haired Onyx witch from the inn ordered, the absolute authority in his voice clearly leaving no room for argument.
Ezra dipped his chin in acknowledgment before turning back toward Calla.
“Have fun with your roll,” he said flatly. “And, Calla?”
She looked at him evenly, her blood still boiling from his words. “Myrea says hello.”
With those last words he turned and stalked toward his friend.
Calla’s blood ran cold.
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