Format: Hardcover, 352 pages
Release Date: May 14, 2024
Publisher: Razorbill
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Dark Fantasy
Bloody magic. Ancient fury.
A single kiss set Chaos ablaze.
Picking up months after betrayal transformed Darling Seabreak
into the long-lost Phoenix and every House regent into their empyreal
form, Darling struggles to make sense of her destiny as a legendary
creature. How can she, an orphan with no family, be the one to reunite
the fractured houses and bring about peace, if she can't control the
magic of her new Phoenix body?
Talon Goldhoard, still in
love with Darling but wounded by her betrayal, is tasked with ending the
vicious war that his family instigated. With the Phoenix reborn, Talon
is hopeful that the bloodshed will end swiftly. Instead, the kingdom
grows more fraught, with the threat of violence ever present –
especially from dark, conniving forces within the walls of his own House
Dragon.
As Chaos reigns, Talon and Darling must find their way
back to each other – not only to survive but to save the kingdom. Can
Darling harness the power of the ancient magic that runs through her
blood to bring about a new peace? Or will the fury that House Dragon
fueled for a hundred-year war be too strong to break?
Bloody Fury, by co-authors Tessa Gratton & Justina Ireland, is the second installment in the Chaos & Flame duology. Key Characters: Talon Goldhoard, and Darling Seabreak. Outside of the prequel which features Aurora Falleau from 30 years ago, the story alternates between Talon and Darling. Picking up months after a kiss transformed
Darling into the long-lost Phoenix and every House regent into their
empyreal form, Darling struggles to make sense of her destiny as a
legendary creature.
How can she, an orphan with no family, truly be the
one to reunite the fractured houses and bring about peace, if she can't
control the magic of her new Phoenix body? But there is blood magic at work that is
tainting the kingdom and its lands and it must be dealt with. She needs
to harness her new found power and use it to bring peace to the land. As Darling rounds up allies and destroys blood magic temple's, she has to put her anger away and find a way to work peacefully with Talon and House Dragon.
Talon Goldhoard, still in love with Darling, is now tasked with ending the vicious House war that his
family instigated and finding his once beloved Aunt who murdered a key person in Darling's life. With the Phoenix reborn, Talon is hopeful that the
bloodshed will end swiftly. Instead, the kingdom grows more fraught,
with the threat of violence ever present – especially from dark,
conniving forces within the walls of his own House Dragon.
As Chaos reigns, Talon and Darling must find their way back to each other to not survive but save the kingdom. Can Darling harness the power of the ancient magic that runs through her blood to bring about a new peace? Or will the fury that House Dragon fueled for a hundred-year war be too strong to break. Meanwhile, the real leader of House Dragon, Caspian, seems content to remain in dragon form instead of facing his responsibilities as regent, and Darling continues to find the other empyrials to bring them back to their human selves. House relations are tenuous at best, but most seem supportive of a united front. Using the Phoenix to heal and help, Darling is able to gain allies quickly.
As Chaos reigns, Talon and Darling must find their way back to each other to not survive but save the kingdom. Can Darling harness the power of the ancient magic that runs through her blood to bring about a new peace? Or will the fury that House Dragon fueled for a hundred-year war be too strong to break. Meanwhile, the real leader of House Dragon, Caspian, seems content to remain in dragon form instead of facing his responsibilities as regent, and Darling continues to find the other empyrials to bring them back to their human selves. House relations are tenuous at best, but most seem supportive of a united front. Using the Phoenix to heal and help, Darling is able to gain allies quickly.
In this book, readers meet the House regents who literally embody
their house mascots. Characters turn into creatures like the giant
kraken squid, a huge dragon, the long-lost Sphinx, the cat-like gryphon and a cockatrice. I think I would have liked this book a whole lot better had one of the authors had not infested the story with woke crap just because of who the author is. Enough. While the ending was good, it spends a whole lot of time wasted on Darling's personal issues, and Talon trying hard to prove that he's the leader needed in the time of trouble.
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I dream of fire.
It devours me, swallows me whole, until I am consumed by it. My hair, my eyes, my bones, all of it is flame, burning brightly, blinding me, and remaking me into something new. There is pain, but only at first, and then . . .
Then there is only ecstasy.
The fire moves through me, with me, warming, soothing. It whispers to me the history of Pyrlanum, it screams the defeats and despair of the people. It calls to Chaos and Chaos answers in fits and spurts.
The flames whisper that this is the way it should be, that this is right. We are one with Chaos, the flames and me. It is joyous about the future and cajoles me to action. The fire is everywhere, and it knows this land, this country that I call my home. The fire listens to the people, it hears their heart wishes and heartaches, and it shares all of it with me while carrying me through the air, high above it all, a place where there is only truth and freedom. There is no disappointment among the clouds, no pain or regret or fear.
There is only the phoenix.
1
The water in the shallow stone bowl ripples as the spell-water breaks and Captain Greenspine’s wavering face and voice smear away.
“Chaos take it!” I snap, slamming my fist into the table. Teacups and goblets rattle on the thick wood, and the few boonlights we’ve managed to keep on flicker. I want to push away and throw my chair across the room, hopefully smashing one of the paned windows overlooking the inner gardens, then storm out. It would be so satisfying.
But General Bloodscale would relish such an outburst too much. I can picture the smug smile he’d offer. So instead I carefully flatten my hand and breathe.
“I’ll try to get him back, my blade,” says Alastair Sevenclaw, the only seer left in Phoenix Crest whose boon is remotely reliable. This mode of communication has always been complicated and difficult even for strong seers, but Aunt Aurora’s never failed. I learned to rely on it too much for sending orders to the far reaches of Pyrlanum.
Of course, now I know Aunt Aurora was supplementing her boon with blood magic. She taught me viscerally when she ripped the regent of House Kraken’s heart from his chest.
“Don’t bother,” I say. “He heard my orders. The rest was questioning the why of them, which should be irrelevant to carrying them out.”
General Bloodscale grunts.
“What is it, General?” I ask slowly, hating how my voice sounds silky and dangerous like Caspian’s.
“You used to be the first to question commands you found lacking. Why the change of heart, High Prince?”
I grind my teeth. “My blade,” I correct. I am not the High Prince Regent, and I never will be. That position no longer exists, was always oppressive, and the last High Prince Regent himself—my brother—wanted it abolished. Though why we should consider the opinion of a prince who lied to us all and vanished from the world is up for debate. But those wishes are one of the reasons we’re in this spare office in the royal quarters, not using the Phoenix Hall with its grand sculptures and Phoenix throne.
Bloodscale raises a grizzled eyebrow but inclines his head in acceptance—for now. “My blade, you often suggested that loyal soldiers will be more eager to obey an order they understand.”
“These orders have been easily understandable from the beginning. We are stretched thin. The entire land is in upheaval after the—the events at House Barghest last month. Which is—”
“If you—” Bloodscale begins.
“—which is why,” I say forcefully, “I’ve commanded the withdrawal to Phoenix Crest and Dragon Territory. As I said in the official orders themselves.”
Bloodscale steeples his hand on the map of Pyrlanum. “This remains the perfect opportunity to solidify Dragon control of the south. There’s been no word of Kraken leadership, and Sphinx lands are unprotected by the squids. We could even move in toward Furial—”
“General, we are not attacking House Gryphon.” I stand, shoving my chair back hard enough it skids on the stone floor. Behind me, flames crackle in the hearth. “They’ve been our allies throughout the House Wars, and will remain so. The first scion is with us at Dragon Castle—”
“A hostage—”
I lean over the table with my best scowl, desperate to hide the queasy feeling in my guts. Because no matter what Elias themself thinks, they are my hostage. Their cousin Vivian would certainly believe so, had we any idea of her whereabouts. “No. Elias Chronicum chooses to be there. And I choose not to conquer Pyrlanum when it is weak!”
Bloodscale grimaces. Finally an argument he can understand. The histories would not call House Dragon strong for taking advantage of the broken Chaos and turmoil of the last month.
I press on. “My brother commanded the war’s end before he disappeared. That is the legacy I will chase, not the warmongering and destruction of our father. We will protect what is ours, as Dragons do, but all Pyrlanum is not ours! That is what I am going to do, even if I have to—”do it myself, I finish silently. I let my jaw set, fighting back the sharp longing for Caspian, for Darling, for Finn, for anyone, everyone, I want at my side right now.
General Bloodscale studies me, and I wonder who he sees: A fitting scion for our father’s rule? Or only the child in diapers I was when he met me? Bloodscale trained me from the age of eleven in warcraft. He is the soldier who clasped an armored pauldron to my shoulder before my first battle. Who wiped tears from my cheeks with rough thumbs after my first kill and said, “Don’t let it go, but don’t let it stop you, either.” He knows me. I don’t think he likes me anymore. That’s fine.
Before he can disagree, I straighten up. “Do as I command, or depose me.”
Alastair Sevenclaw gets to his knees immediately, one hand fisted over his heart. I barely remembered he was here, with all my focus on the dangerous general sharing this office with me.
Slowly, General Bloodscale stands. He puts a fist over his heart and bows. “I will do as you command, my blade.”
“Good.” I spin and storm out, but manage not to slam the door.
As quickly as I can, I head down the winding corridor to the stairs leading up to Caspian’s tower. I shove past that damneddoorway carved into a dragon and phoenix entwined in flight, ignoring the sickness pinching up my stomach at the sight of it. He knew so long ago, he knew what he was going to do, and didn’t tell me, didn’t trust me.
It’s hard to know if I should be more furious or grief-stricken,when I don’t even really know what actually happened. What Caspian actually did.
I climb the stairs two at a time and burst into his old rooms, eyes darting through the darkness over the paintings of that eyeless girl, my Darling, whom I haven’t seen since she burst into flames in my brother’s arms and flew away. I can’t look at them.
Caspian had a narrow balcony, attached to the nearly hidden back room of the tower where he often slept in a messy nest of pillows and what seem to have been threadbare tapestries. All of it stained with spots of paint and singed by dropped candles. The tall windows push open onto the crescent balcony, and I grasp the stone rail. I grip tightly, wishing I had real talons to gouge the stone, sparking against it. Even using my whole weight to lean in, nothing moves. Nothing shifts.
There’s only a wind tearing at my hair, tangling the dark curls. It pulls at my jacket, too, snapping the lapels and tails. The sun is hot, but the wind strips the heat away. This is the highest tower of Phoenix Crest, and I can’t hear anything but the roar of wind.
The sun cuts into my eyes from the west, clouds rolling in for a coming storm. The fields and hills spread south from Phoenix Crest, the green and gold of summer bright. A sprawling town peeks out of the trees here and there, too far to be part of Phoenix Crest, too close to be considered separate. The broad grassy field between the fortress and the woods is pastureland this time of year, shared by shepherds on one end and drake herders on the other. But in the past weeks, parts of my army have camped here as they somehow manage to obey my simple commands and withdraw from the south and west. It’s slow, but Caspian began it when he introduced Darling as Maribel Calamus at his ball in this very fortress.
Thinking about Darling hurts. The pain coils in my chest, like she has a grip on my heart and might tear it out the way Aurora did to Leonetti. And I want her to; I’d let Darling do it if it meant she was here.
It hardly matters that the thirty-two days since the explosions of Chaos at House Barghest, since I saw her violent eyes, heard her angry accusations, have felt longer than the number of days I knew her. She dug into me.
And then she turned into fire.
It devours me, swallows me whole, until I am consumed by it. My hair, my eyes, my bones, all of it is flame, burning brightly, blinding me, and remaking me into something new. There is pain, but only at first, and then . . .
Then there is only ecstasy.
The fire moves through me, with me, warming, soothing. It whispers to me the history of Pyrlanum, it screams the defeats and despair of the people. It calls to Chaos and Chaos answers in fits and spurts.
The flames whisper that this is the way it should be, that this is right. We are one with Chaos, the flames and me. It is joyous about the future and cajoles me to action. The fire is everywhere, and it knows this land, this country that I call my home. The fire listens to the people, it hears their heart wishes and heartaches, and it shares all of it with me while carrying me through the air, high above it all, a place where there is only truth and freedom. There is no disappointment among the clouds, no pain or regret or fear.
There is only the phoenix.
1
The water in the shallow stone bowl ripples as the spell-water breaks and Captain Greenspine’s wavering face and voice smear away.
“Chaos take it!” I snap, slamming my fist into the table. Teacups and goblets rattle on the thick wood, and the few boonlights we’ve managed to keep on flicker. I want to push away and throw my chair across the room, hopefully smashing one of the paned windows overlooking the inner gardens, then storm out. It would be so satisfying.
But General Bloodscale would relish such an outburst too much. I can picture the smug smile he’d offer. So instead I carefully flatten my hand and breathe.
“I’ll try to get him back, my blade,” says Alastair Sevenclaw, the only seer left in Phoenix Crest whose boon is remotely reliable. This mode of communication has always been complicated and difficult even for strong seers, but Aunt Aurora’s never failed. I learned to rely on it too much for sending orders to the far reaches of Pyrlanum.
Of course, now I know Aunt Aurora was supplementing her boon with blood magic. She taught me viscerally when she ripped the regent of House Kraken’s heart from his chest.
“Don’t bother,” I say. “He heard my orders. The rest was questioning the why of them, which should be irrelevant to carrying them out.”
General Bloodscale grunts.
“What is it, General?” I ask slowly, hating how my voice sounds silky and dangerous like Caspian’s.
“You used to be the first to question commands you found lacking. Why the change of heart, High Prince?”
I grind my teeth. “My blade,” I correct. I am not the High Prince Regent, and I never will be. That position no longer exists, was always oppressive, and the last High Prince Regent himself—my brother—wanted it abolished. Though why we should consider the opinion of a prince who lied to us all and vanished from the world is up for debate. But those wishes are one of the reasons we’re in this spare office in the royal quarters, not using the Phoenix Hall with its grand sculptures and Phoenix throne.
Bloodscale raises a grizzled eyebrow but inclines his head in acceptance—for now. “My blade, you often suggested that loyal soldiers will be more eager to obey an order they understand.”
“These orders have been easily understandable from the beginning. We are stretched thin. The entire land is in upheaval after the—the events at House Barghest last month. Which is—”
“If you—” Bloodscale begins.
“—which is why,” I say forcefully, “I’ve commanded the withdrawal to Phoenix Crest and Dragon Territory. As I said in the official orders themselves.”
Bloodscale steeples his hand on the map of Pyrlanum. “This remains the perfect opportunity to solidify Dragon control of the south. There’s been no word of Kraken leadership, and Sphinx lands are unprotected by the squids. We could even move in toward Furial—”
“General, we are not attacking House Gryphon.” I stand, shoving my chair back hard enough it skids on the stone floor. Behind me, flames crackle in the hearth. “They’ve been our allies throughout the House Wars, and will remain so. The first scion is with us at Dragon Castle—”
“A hostage—”
I lean over the table with my best scowl, desperate to hide the queasy feeling in my guts. Because no matter what Elias themself thinks, they are my hostage. Their cousin Vivian would certainly believe so, had we any idea of her whereabouts. “No. Elias Chronicum chooses to be there. And I choose not to conquer Pyrlanum when it is weak!”
Bloodscale grimaces. Finally an argument he can understand. The histories would not call House Dragon strong for taking advantage of the broken Chaos and turmoil of the last month.
I press on. “My brother commanded the war’s end before he disappeared. That is the legacy I will chase, not the warmongering and destruction of our father. We will protect what is ours, as Dragons do, but all Pyrlanum is not ours! That is what I am going to do, even if I have to—”do it myself, I finish silently. I let my jaw set, fighting back the sharp longing for Caspian, for Darling, for Finn, for anyone, everyone, I want at my side right now.
General Bloodscale studies me, and I wonder who he sees: A fitting scion for our father’s rule? Or only the child in diapers I was when he met me? Bloodscale trained me from the age of eleven in warcraft. He is the soldier who clasped an armored pauldron to my shoulder before my first battle. Who wiped tears from my cheeks with rough thumbs after my first kill and said, “Don’t let it go, but don’t let it stop you, either.” He knows me. I don’t think he likes me anymore. That’s fine.
Before he can disagree, I straighten up. “Do as I command, or depose me.”
Alastair Sevenclaw gets to his knees immediately, one hand fisted over his heart. I barely remembered he was here, with all my focus on the dangerous general sharing this office with me.
Slowly, General Bloodscale stands. He puts a fist over his heart and bows. “I will do as you command, my blade.”
“Good.” I spin and storm out, but manage not to slam the door.
As quickly as I can, I head down the winding corridor to the stairs leading up to Caspian’s tower. I shove past that damneddoorway carved into a dragon and phoenix entwined in flight, ignoring the sickness pinching up my stomach at the sight of it. He knew so long ago, he knew what he was going to do, and didn’t tell me, didn’t trust me.
It’s hard to know if I should be more furious or grief-stricken,when I don’t even really know what actually happened. What Caspian actually did.
I climb the stairs two at a time and burst into his old rooms, eyes darting through the darkness over the paintings of that eyeless girl, my Darling, whom I haven’t seen since she burst into flames in my brother’s arms and flew away. I can’t look at them.
Caspian had a narrow balcony, attached to the nearly hidden back room of the tower where he often slept in a messy nest of pillows and what seem to have been threadbare tapestries. All of it stained with spots of paint and singed by dropped candles. The tall windows push open onto the crescent balcony, and I grasp the stone rail. I grip tightly, wishing I had real talons to gouge the stone, sparking against it. Even using my whole weight to lean in, nothing moves. Nothing shifts.
There’s only a wind tearing at my hair, tangling the dark curls. It pulls at my jacket, too, snapping the lapels and tails. The sun is hot, but the wind strips the heat away. This is the highest tower of Phoenix Crest, and I can’t hear anything but the roar of wind.
The sun cuts into my eyes from the west, clouds rolling in for a coming storm. The fields and hills spread south from Phoenix Crest, the green and gold of summer bright. A sprawling town peeks out of the trees here and there, too far to be part of Phoenix Crest, too close to be considered separate. The broad grassy field between the fortress and the woods is pastureland this time of year, shared by shepherds on one end and drake herders on the other. But in the past weeks, parts of my army have camped here as they somehow manage to obey my simple commands and withdraw from the south and west. It’s slow, but Caspian began it when he introduced Darling as Maribel Calamus at his ball in this very fortress.
Thinking about Darling hurts. The pain coils in my chest, like she has a grip on my heart and might tear it out the way Aurora did to Leonetti. And I want her to; I’d let Darling do it if it meant she was here.
It hardly matters that the thirty-two days since the explosions of Chaos at House Barghest, since I saw her violent eyes, heard her angry accusations, have felt longer than the number of days I knew her. She dug into me.
And then she turned into fire.
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