#Review - Once a King by Erin Summerill #YALit #Fantasy

Series: A Clash of Kingdoms Novel
Format: E-Galley, 464 pages
Release Date: December 4, 2018
Publisher: HMH Books
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Fantasy

A young king searches for a way to save his kingdom in this romantic fantasy from Erin Summerill, who was called “absolutely marvelous” by New York Times bestselling author Sarah J. Maas.

Aodren: A lonely, young king, searching for a way to dismantle his father’s dark legacy.
Lirra: A girl with the power to control the wind, torn between duty and following her dreams

For twenty years, Channelers—women with a magical ability—have been persecuted in Malam by those without magic. Now King Aodren wants to end the bloody divide and unite his kingdom. But decades of hatred can’t be overcome by issuing decrees, and rumors of a deadly Channeler-made substance are only fueling people’s fears. Lirra has every reason to distrust Aodren. Yet when he asks for help to discover the truth behind the rumors, she can’t say no. With Lirra by his side, Aodren sees a way forward for his people. But can he rewrite the mistakes of the past before his enemies destroy the world he’s working so hard to rebuild? Erin Summerill returns with a high-stakes fantasy full of romance, magic, and revenge perfect for fans of Susan Dennard and C. J. Redwine.

Once A King, by author Erin Summerill, is the third installment in the authors Clash of Kingdoms series. For those who have not read Ever the Hunted, or Ever the Brave, this story actually takes place shortly after the end of the second book in the series. The story is told through the split narratives of Lirra Barrett and Malam King Aodren, both of whom have unique personalities that totally come through. The chemistry between Aodren and Lirra is electric. Readers will love their building tension and slow-burn romance.

Aodren is a character who readers will have met in the first two installments in this series. In fact, he had a sort of relationship with Britta Flannery who has since exited this series stage left to enjoy her happy ever after. Lirra and Aodren also have a history which I won't spoil for you since you can read the book and figure it out yourself. He is a young king who is trying to do whatever he can to fix the problems that were started by his father, and continued by a Regent who hated Channeler's and wanted to remove them from his country. 

Aodren has struggles to move his country forward. His country is still deeply divided, and there are those who still don't trust the Channeler's who have access to the five elemental magics. There is also a strange new black market version of a healing potion which is only supposed to be found in one country in particular. If that weren't enough, this year is the All Kingdom Summit which takes place every 5 years. Aodren hopes that he can convince those from Shaerdan, and other countries to open up their trade to his country and that he is absolutely set on rewriting the past mistakes of his country. 

Lirra is known as the Archtraitors Daughter and is well versed in espionage, and knowing the right people. She is a Channeler who uses wind magic and was instrumental in helping save the day alongside Britta in Ever the Brave. Lirra has been living in Shaerdan since her father took her away from Malam after her mother was killed. Lirra's father sells secrets to the highest bidder, which doesn't exactly make him popular, but he's trustworthy enough that Aodren asks for his help which leads to Lirra's involvement in a stunning mystery where the villain can be anyone. 

Lirra finds herself working side by side with Aodren to uncover the mystery behind the fake Sanguine hitting the trading routes and causing so much animosity that it is clear someone is trying to destroy Malam and its King. The chemistry between Aodren and Lirra is electric. Readers will love their building tension and slow-burn romance. This story is the perfect combination of political intrigue, mystery, and action as Aodren races to find the truth before it's too late, and Lirra finds herself up to her hip in intrigue, suspense, and a future that she wants, not one that is to follow in her father's footsteps. 

 

CHAPTER
1
LIRRA
I LEAN AGAINST THE DUSTY ELEMENTIARY SHELF crammed with books and jars of animal bits, and stare at my father’s letter. His nearly indecipherable scratch strikes me with swift disappointment. Gods, the All Kingdoms’ Summit happens only every five years. It’s not as if Da hasn’t had time enough to arrange his schedule. The remainder of Da’s message is blocked by another letter. It’s sealed in my father’s wax and addressed to someone named AC.
My heartbeat slogs through my ears, muting the chatter of mismatched accents and clatter of carriage wheels outside the Elementiary. What a fool I am for thinking this time Da’s priorities would include something other than business. Having worked for my father for five years, I know better than to be hurt by this news. Just as I know, without reading further, Da needs me to deliver the letter to AC.
I suppose it also shouldn’t be surprising that there’s no note here for the littleuns or Eugenia, my stepmother and worrier extraordinaire. Overwhelmed by black-market trade and valuable secrets, Da tends to forget all else.
“Lirra, you done?” Orli’s clipped tone echoes from the other side of the shelf.
I fold Da’s letter, intending to finish it later, and squeeze my fingers along the parchment seam. One, two, three sharp slides.
“Almost,” I call out, and shove the now-empty box back into concealment behind a jar of rat tails. To maintain our family’s anonymity and safety, Da sends correspondences here for me to retrieve in secret. He trusts few people more than Astoria, the Elementiary owner and my former magic teacher.
“What’d he write?” Orli asks when I come into view.
My best friend is standing by the door, trapped in a stream of dusty light, right hand strangling the doorknob, the usual tawny tone leached from her knuckles. Despite her unease with Channeler magic, she’s accompanied me here every week since Da left.
“He won’t be returning for a while.” I pick at the broken seal.
“You mean he’ll miss the start of the tournament, right? He’ll return for the jubilee and the other summit festivities.”
I shake my head.
Raven brows shoot up. “He’s going to miss your jubilee performance?”
My nail wedges under the last bit of red wax and frees it from the parchment. “Aye.”
Astoria has one hand on her cane and the other clutching a pile of books, going about business as she usually does whenever I slip inside the Elementiary to pick up Da’s mail. She ambles out of the backroom to her desk, where she deposits the stack. I’m not entirely sure she’s noticed me until she lifts an age-spotted finger to shove her spectacles higher and then points to the letter in my hand. “Not what you were hoping?”
I slip it into my satchel and force a smile. “That’s the way it is with Da’s business.”
“Oh, dear girl.” She frowns. “And it’s your first year entering the jubilee.”
The sadness magnified in her watery blue eyes sours my mood.
My gaze drops to the ring of dirt darkening the hem of my day dress.
There’s a shuffle thump of steps on the wood floors, and then Astoria’s arms come around me, squeezing me to her wonderfully round body.
“Your da knows it’s important to you.” The love she radiates makes me feel like a cat basking in the sun. “He’d be there if he could.”
Astoria has been Da’s friend and closest confidant since before my birth. She offered us a safe place to hide at her home in Shaerdan after we escaped Malam’s Purge—the Channeler eradication that would have seen me killed for my magic ability. We have lived near her ever since. She understands Da better than anyone, but I don’t want to hear her talk him up right now.
“She knows,” Orli says. “All set to go, Lirra?” Her desperation to leave the Channeler school is as potent as the scent of lavender here.
“You don’t have to leave so soon.” Astoria returns to her desk. “Come away from that door and sit down.”
“We need to run by the docks. Getting through all the visitors’ carriages will take time.” Orli points to the blown-glass windows. Outside, a rainbow of fabric has assaulted Shaerdan’s capital city of Celize. Passersby wear their kingdoms’ colors like a shield. Usually, the northern edge of town, where the cliffs climb up from the docks, sees little traffic. Travelers have invaded all of my hometown, even the quiet roads stretching east into farmlands and forests. Scores of people from the four neighboring kingdoms have been arriving for days in anticipation of the All Kingdoms’ Summit and festivities—the Channeler Jubilee, the Tournament of Champions, and the Kingdoms’ Market.
“Orli is right,” I say. “We need extra time to look at the crowds.” I have things to pick up for my jubilee exhibit that can’t wait until tomorrow.
Astoria fiddles with the wrist button of her dress sleeve. “See you next week?”
I nod, even though it’s uncertain if she’s referring to the jubilee showcase or my next mail visit. My head is stuck on a memory from five years ago. At the last jubilee, Da and I watched from the sidelines. Channelers from across the kingdoms showed displays of magic. Breathless and awed, I confessed my dream to perform at the next jubilee.
Next week’s jubilee.
Da said he wouldn’t miss it for all the world.
Silence is the sweetest sound in the Barrett home, and such a rare thing to be had. It’s alarming how loud the boards creak underfoot as Orli and I sneak inside the back door, both of us carrying packages from the dock market. Packages that could be easily snapped in half by my younger brothers’ grubby fingers.
“Where is everyone?” Orli mouths.
I shake my head. The kitchen is filled with the usual mess, minus my family. Dirty dishrags lie heaped in a pile on Grandmother’s table beside a discarded, half-finished drawing of a pig—or an owl. I cannot tell. A stale odor lingers in the air like a haunt of last night’s leek-and-carrot soup. And then there’s the crock of Eugenia’s morning pottage, still sitting on the sooty hearth.
“Eugenia?” Never one to miss a Monday service, my stepmother drags the littleuns to the cathedral on the cliff each week as penance for Da’s profession.
No one answers.
I abandon my protective crouch around the wrapped wooden dowels. “The carriages on the road must’ve slowed her travel.”
“Do you think it’s odd that Eugenia will make peace over Millner’s sins and then spend his earnings the next day?” Orli asks as we head down the hall toward the attic ladder that hangs in a permanent lowered position.
“When you talk about my da’s business like that, it sounds wicked.”
“It’s not exactly saintly. Your father sells secrets to the highest bidder. Not produce or pelts.”
“He’s an information trader.” I shrug off her comment, not eager to discuss my father.
Orli’s head falls back, and she explodes with laughter. “That’s a new one. Though a bit much for Millner Barrett. Maybe something like high ruler of the black market would be more accurate.”
I laugh. At least she didn’t call him Archtraitor, the infamous title he earned for defying the Malamian regent, evading capture, and building a secretive life in Shaerdan. It gets under my skin.
“My point is, she repents one day and spends his money the next.” Orli follows me up to the attic room. She flops on my bed while I sit on the floor and arrange the dowels from largest to smallest. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Was that a note of irritation? I leave the packages lined up like soldiers before their captain. “What’s this about?”
Gone is the easy smile she wore after leaving the Elementiary. Was today too much for her? Were the crowds overwhelming?
“I know what you’re thinking, and that’s not it.” Orli slides her dark braids out of her face. “It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“Nothing is nothing.”
“That makes no sense.”
I pinch her toe. “It means if something’s important to you, it’s important to me. No secrets.”
She points to the packages. “Don’t you want to finish unwrapping those before your brothers get home?”
I don’t even glance down. “Subject change? Beginner’s move. You know I have more self-control than that.”
She guffaws. “A fox in a henhouse has more self-control than you.”
“Exaggeration.”
“Is it?” A little light brightens her stormy eyes. “I’m sore over Eugenia’s soil order, is all. Satisfied?”
“The one for cabbage?” Wasn’t that weeks ago?
“You know how the growing season is. Mum hasn’t been able to enhance the soil.” Late spring to summer means increased hours on Orli’s family farm. Especially for her mum, who earns extra money by selling magic-infused soil for growing vibrant, pest-resistant plants. Altering the soil drains her energy, a cost all Channelers pay, which slows production.
“Has Eugenia been pestering her?” Even though Eugenia isn’t a Channeler, she knows Channelers need time to restore energy.
I tear the packaging off the dowels to feel their notched ends, all sanded to a silken texture. The largest dowel, balanced on my open palm, is impossibly light. Almost weightless. The wood’s scent is balsa and musk. A humid summer day and freedom.
“It’s my mum.” Orli’s tiptoe-quiet response brings me back to the room. “She wants me to fill Eugenia’s order. She thinks I’m ready.”
“What do you think?”
She doesn’t answer. A year ago, Orli was kidnapped as part of an attempted coup in Malam. The former regent was intent on siphoning magic from Channelers and combining the stolen energy into the ultimate weapon to use against the young king. I was part of the effort to rescue her, and ever since, Orli has been plagued with nightmarish memories and constant fears. It took months before she was able to leave her farm and venture into public. But she has yet to use her Channeler magic.
“I would help, but all I’m good for is blowing dirt around your farm.” I nudge her knee.
Channelers have influence over one energy—land, air, fire, water, or spirit. Orli and her mother have the ability to manipulate the land, while I can harness the wind.
“That’s all you’re good for?” Orli rolls her eyes.
“It’d have to be a small pile. Dirt’s heavy.”
“You’re full of hot air, you know that?”
“Better than dirt in the ears.”
We both laugh, never too old for Channeler puns.
“Truthfully,” Orli says, more serious. “All you’ve done this year is impressive.”
Does she realize she’s come far this year too? I open my mouth to tell her as much, but she cuts me off. “Don’t be modest. I wasn’t even referring to what you did for me.” Her voice cracks with emotion.
My throat burns too. Dammit.
“I’d do it again,” I whisper, knowing exactly how hard it was to find her. To free her.
Orli rubs her eyes, and then shoves me in the leg and adds an annoyed look. “Don’t make me teary. I’d do the same for you, fool.”
I know she would.
She scoots off the bed and sits cross-legged on the floor. “What I’m trying to say is what you’ve done with your gliders is a big deal. You use your magic in a different way than we grew up learning. Everything we created was from our energy. Like my mum and the soil. She has to sacrifice herself for every batch of stupid dirt. But your gliders are different.”
“I use my magic to make them,” I say, confused.
“No, you use magic to test them. To see if they’ll fly.”
This much is true. I wanted to build a contraption that would allow my brothers to glide in the sky without me having to conjure wind.
“Anyone, Channeler or giftless, can follow your pattern and make their own glider. You’re going to show people a new way of looking at Channelers. Maybe they’ll even see that we shouldn’t be feared.”
She’s exaggerating. But . . .
“Maybe, hopefully, it’ll inspire a few people,” I say, though the possibility makes me feel like I’ve ingested a swarm of lightning bugs.
A door slams in the house, and a herd of elk rumbles through the hallway below. Eugenia shouts, “Not inside!”
“Sorry, Mum!” I hear my brothers say before the stampede alters course.
I rush to rewrap the dowels and hide them under my bed. “Do you want me to talk to her about the soil? Or are you ready?” I hate pressuring Orli, but she has to use her magic again one day. May as well be helping her mum and Eugenia.
“I’ll figure something out. I’ll be fine.” Her expression shutters closed.
She thinks my winged inventions will change how people see Channelers. Maybe she’s right. But what will it take to inspire her? To prove that her magic isn’t to be feared?
I go downstairs to greet Eugenia in the kitchen and find her plucking dirty rags off the table.
“Any word from your da?” she asks.
“No.” It’s better not to mention he wrote me about business. When Da is working, Eugenia likes to pretend he’s just taking a trip to visit friends. She won’t acknowledge his methods of collecting and profiting off secrets if she can help it.
“Do you think he’s all right?”
“He’s been gone for longer stretches, and he always returns safely.” I’ve become adept at managing Eugenia’s worry.
Her hands knot in a dishrag. “Right. Of course. I’m sure he’ll return for the festiv—”
The rear door smacks against the wall, startling us both. The twins race inside, skidding into their mother’s feet.
Eugenia drops the rag, and screeches. “Boys!”
Despite her runny emotions, she lunges for them as they try to scramble away. Loren bangs into the table and upends a chair. Kiefer hunkers beside the hutch.
“What has gotten into you two?”
“Sorry, Mum,” the boys chant.
“We don’t run in the home. Look at this dirt. I just swept the floor, and now I’ll have to do it again.”
Loren rubs his hip. “Wasn’t running, Mum. Just some quick moving.”
“Save your quick movement for outdoors. Hear me?”
“But what of Lirra?”
“What about me?” I ask.
Loren’s smile switches into something sly, like a youthful image of Da, all dimpled tanned cheeks, stocky frame, and windblown curls the color of wet driftwood. I’ve always longed to look more like them instead of a reminder of my mum, with nearly black hair so thick it could be roof thatching.
“Lirra does whatever she pleases.” Loren turns pathetic cow eyes on Eugenia. “She don’t follow rules.”
If only that were true.
“And I’ve seen her run in the house.”
Little toad. “You have not.”
“Have too.”
I turn to Eugenia for support. Working for Da requires living by another set of rules, something Eugenia knows even if she doesn’t like it.
“You don’t go to church.” Loren points at me. “You sneak out at night. And sometimes you go around with mud on your face. Mum always makes us wash our faces. Doesn’t she, Kief?”
Kiefer, the more silent twin, peeks around the hutch. “I seen mud on Lirra.”
“Get back in your hiding spot,” I growl at him before spinning to face Loren. “Don’t pull me into this. You were foolish enough to get caught, so say you’re sorry already.”
He starts to complain, and Eugenia silences him with a look. The boys rush toward freedom in the shape of the back door. That’s when I notice the specks.
Specks coating their trousers.
Specks on Loren’s boots.
Specks that look an awful lot like wood shavings?
“Stop! Where have you two been?”
“Outside.” Loren smirks over his shoulder.
“Where outside?”
“The shed.”
“Which. Shed.” My nostrils flare.
Kiefer cringes.
“Lirra, let them go,” Eugenia says.
My glider wings are in that shed. If the boys touched them . . . “Tell me. Or this week at the summit festivities, I’ll find the she-pirate, Song the Red, and pay her to sail you to Kolontia. The north is terribly cold. So cold that men and boys lose toes and feet and even legs. How fast will you run without legs, hmm, Loren? Tell me now—woodshed or my shed?”
“Yours,” Kiefer blurts. His cherry cheeks turn pale pear green. “We only wanted a peek.”
“We didn’t touch nothing, promise.” Loren presses his hands together in a prayer. “Spare me legs, Lir.”
I hold in a smile. “Keep your stubby limbs for now, Loren. But if you—”
Eugenia scoots them out the door. “Don’t be hard on them.”
“They need to keep their dirty hands off my things.”
“What do you expect, Lirra? They look up to you, and you run around breaking rules as if you’ve no responsibilities.”
“No responsibilities?” Anger twists through me faster than the twin tornados could destroy my stuff. “My responsibilities force me to break rules. My job for Da requires it.”
She yanks a pin out of her bun, and her hair topples like a bird’s nest breaking apart. “Don’t pretend to be dedicated to your da’s work when you spend all your time on gliders.”
I gape at her, wounded by the insinuation. My family matters most. If Da asked me to pay more attention to his business, I’d do it. But he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t include me in every deal. He doesn’t share all his secrets, as much as I’d like him to.
“What of your dedication?” I stomp to the window and point at the carriage parked inside the barrier of trees concealing our home. “Every week you visit the cathedral and make penance. Maybe instead of praying so much, you should notice how hard Da works for you. For the family.”
Eyes widen over a stone expression. “Nonsense. You’re angry because the boys were curious. I understand that, but you cannot blame them. Your contraptions look like children’s toys.”
Children’s toys? Will the jubilee organizers think my glider is child’s play too?
My fingernails dig crescents into my palms. “Was it curiosity when they broke your Plovian vase? The vase you insisted Da buy with his black-market money? Don’t be a hypocrite.” It comes out like spat venom.
Last year the twins knocked over the vase. Eugenia was shattered. That same colorless devastation overtakes her expression now.
A baby’s cry peals from the hallway.
I bite my vindictive lip. “I—I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Julisa’s awake.” Eugenia gives me a look of defeat and leaves.
I return to where Orli is waiting for me in the attic, my chest stuffy and hot with frustration. And shame.
It’s not her fault that Da is gone. Or that he takes on too much work and doesn’t allow me to help manage the load. He has me deliver messages to informants, listen to private conversations, and track people’s habits, but he never asks for more. He tries to manage most of the work alone.
Loren and Kiefer are too young to help, and I doubt Eugenia would let them get involved in Da’s business even if they were older. I’m the only one he can lean on. It’s up to me to help him. Eugenia is right. I should be focusing on Da’s letter, not my gliders.
“Whoa, what happened?” Orli watches me climb the ladder. “You look ready to practice dagger throwing on a live target.”
I dig through my satchel for the letter. I peel it open and remove the letter to AC.
Hullo Beetle,
I’ll not be returning in time for the summit.
The rest of the page is blank.
“This cannot be all there is.” I flip it over. Da would never use this much parchment for so short a note, or ask me to deliver a letter with no instructions. His message must be here, hidden.
Orli peers over my shoulder and hums to herself.
I trace the blank page. “I wonder if he used a blood charm. Da’s never used one before. Blood charms are illegal, and even if they weren’t, they’re hard to come by,” I say, remembering what Astoria taught us. “But it would explain why there are no words.”
She releases a shuddery breath and taps the letter. “Right. And we are talking about Millner.”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” I pull a dagger from my boot.
Orli sits on the bed, trembling fingers sliding under her thighs. “Go on.”
I hate that magic makes her uncomfortable. But I have to know what Da wrote. I sink the blade’s tip into the fleshy pad of my finger. A crimson drop bubbles from my skin and drips onto the ivory parchment, fanning out as it seeps into the surface.
Hullo Beetle,
I’ll not be returning in time for the summit.
If you’re reading this, you figured out the blood charm. The following job must be completed immediately and privately. As you can tell, secrecy is of greatest importance.
To fulfill an agreement I’ve made with the king of Malam, you must deliver the enclosed letter to him. Don’t curse. I know this assignment will displease you, but it must be done.
The king’s letter has also been sealed with a blood charm. You’ll find nothing there if you attempt to peek. Please explain to King Aodren how these types of charms are activated. The man’s Channeler knowledge is in the budding stage.
Deliver the letter before the summit is underway. It cannot be late. Tell no one and go unseen.
Give my love to Eugenia, the boys, and Julisa.
Love, Da
“Bloody stars.”
I’m not displeased. I’m furious.
What deal has my father made? King Aodren cares nothing for Channelers. Hell, his kingdom has encouraged the hunting of Channelers for the last twenty years. This is why my father and I were forced to flee Malam and live in Shaerdan. King Aodren may have ended the Purge Proclamation, the horrific law that was responsible for the deaths of countless Channelers in Malam for the last twenty years, but he did so out of desperation. Last year, King Aodren needed the Channelers Guild, the governing women who oversee all Channelers in the five kingdoms, to save his life and help stop a plot to usurp the throne.
My efforts to save Orli caused my path to cross Aodren’s. I was the one who introduced him to the Guild, and I even saved his life in battle. But has he ever expressed his gratitude for either?
No. Not at all. Ungrateful lout of a king.
King Aodren cares only about himself.
Da has all sorts of unsavory business associates, and though I dislike it, it’s not so shocking to discover King Aodren is a new one. Royal coin is as good as commoner coin. What I don’t understand, however, is why the king of Malam needs help from Da, ruler of the underground.
I press my fist to the sudden bloom of ache in my belly. I want to forget this request and finish my glider. But Eugenia’s comment earlier nags me. Da needs me. And maybe this is the way to finally prove he can rely on me.

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Early #Review W/Excerpt - Ever the Brave by Erin Summerill #YALit #Fantasy

Series: A Clash of Kingdoms Novel # 2
Format: E-Book, 464 pages
Release Date: December 5, 2017
Publisher: HMH Books for Young Readers
Source: NetGalley
Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy

Ever the Divided. Ever the Feared. Ever the Brave.

After saving King Aodren with her newfound Channeler powers, Britta only wants to live a peaceful life in her childhood home. Unfortunately, saving the King has created a tether between them she cannot sever, no matter how much she'd like to, and now he's insisting on making her a noble lady. And there are those who want to use Britta’s power for evil designs. If Britta cannot find a way to harness her new magical ability, her life—as well as her country—may be lost.

The stakes are higher than ever in the sequel to Ever the Hunted, as Britta struggles to protect her kingdom and her heart.

Ever the Brave is the second and final installment in author Erin Summerill's Clash of Kingdom's duology. In this installment, the author has chosen to feature three distinct characters to tell her story; Cohen Mackay, Britta Flannery, and King Aodren. Let's talk about Britta. After saving Aodren's life at the conclusion of Ever the Hunted, Britta finds herself linked to the king, aware of his presence, and his well-being, and that connection is hard to ignore. Britta hasn't really come to terms with her growing magic, & what she's capable of.

Her fear of being around other people is still an issue as well. It doesn't matter that she saved Aodren's life and is a hero for doing so, the people still don't like her because she's part Shaerdan on her mother's side. It doesn't matter that Aodren wants to introduce her as royalty when the noble's despise her for the same reason. It also doesn't help that he heaps presents on Britta that she doesn't want and shows up at her cabin unannounced. Plus, it would take just one person to charge her with being a Channeler, and everything that she's worked hard for, will come crashing down on her head. 

The plus is that she has opened herself up to a friendship with her lady-in-waiting Gillian Tierney. Gillian is adamant at making Britta more impressionable & more ladylike instead of hiding away at her cabin. I talk more about Britta than anyone else in this book because of what her own father taught her. He taught her how to become one of the best trackers and hunters around. He taught her how to ride a horse, use a bow & arrow, but unfortunately he had no clue about how to teach her about magic that has grown stronger. 

Britta is a character after my own heart in one aspect. She loves being in the middle of nowhere with no one else around where she can be who she wants to be without people pointing fingers at her. 

Meanwhile, Cohen, the King's Bounty Hunter, along with his younger brother Finn, have traveled to Shaerdan in search of the woman, Phelia, who was responsible for controlling Aodren. Along the way, Cohen meets Lirra Barrett, the Archtraitors daughter, & discovers that there are dozens of girls missing throughout Shaerdan. Girls who, by all indications, are Channelers. Since magic is outlawed in Malam, the identity of the kidnappers is puzzling. 

Is someone trying to start a war between Malam and Shaerdan? Or, is there something more nefarious about to happen? Cohen isn't a terrible character, but he has hard edges. His relationship with his brother is a nice change from the ever present sibling rivalries that somehow manage to find their way into this genre. Having Lirra around is another change for Cohen who is used to working solo. Cohen's relationship with Britta is one of over-protectiveness and a bit of jealously. Cohen's relationship with Aodren is cold as ice because of the jealously factor. 

I mentioned the third character who is featured already, King Aodren. Aodren is drawn and obsessed with Britta, especially after she saves his life not once, but again in this book which leads to a rather enlightening revelation and the identity of the woman known as Phelia. Aodren's isn't like any other King that you are probably expecting. He actually wants to do away with the antiquated and bigoted law known as the Purge which has seen women of all ages taken from their families and killed just because they wield magic. Aodren, Cohen, and Britta really do get tested to the ultimate in this book. Not only do they have to fight a known enemy, but they also have to deal with the connection that Britta has with Aodren while still loving Cohen. Ugh!

In the end, the last half of this story is by far the best because so many things happen that force all three characters to dig into their very souls and find a way to survive against all odds. I appreciated the introduction of the Channeler Council as well as characters who end up being part of a dangerous move by Lord Jamis and Phelia against the King. I like that the story ends with Britta in a good place, and not just walking out stage left without any hopes of a HEA with either Cohen or Aodren.

CHAPTER 1

COHEN

A minute spent in a shaerdanian tavern is a minute too long. I motion for Finn to fall behind as the creaky door slams closed, leaving us in the loud, crowded, lantern-lit room. We garner a few glances, but most turn back to their cups. Only a one-eyed cat perched atop an ale barrel keeps my younger brother and me in its sights. I don’t mind the surly types who hang around these places, the wenches with their skirts tied up and colorful shifts showing, and the bawdy songman accompanied by a guitar-plucking fellow. All are rightly pissed—?eyes blurry, smiles toothy, and voices gratingly bright. It’s the smell that gets me every time. The rain in Shaerdan makes scents stronger. Makes taverns a pungent mix of moldy floor planks, vinegar, and fermented despair.
I hold my breath and slide a folded piece of parchment into the pocket on my belt. Finn watches me. He’s seen me pull it out more than a few times in the last month. Probably noticed the action has increased the farther we’ve traveled from Malam.
He knows not to mention it.
Finn and I walk through the tavern and sit at the bar. After the long night and half day of riding, it’s good to rest. If I dropped my forehead into my hands, I’d be asleep in a blink. Tempting if we weren’t so close to the end of the hunt. And if we weren’t still on Shaerdan soil, where being identified as a Malamian will get you gutted. A vision of a pale blond, freckled girl with a smile that has to be earned spurs me on, pierces me with longing.
A card game plays out on the nearest table, Shaerdanian silvers piled high enough to entice hungry onlookers. Pushing away the fatigue, I sit taller. Force my hands to relax, one resting over my left trouser pocket full of coins. My other hand is splayed on the bar. I fight to look the part in this tavern. Mistakes cannot happen today, not when we’re so close to finding Lord Jamis’s mistress.
The barkeep is a big man, no taller than me, but thicker through the gut like he’s packing a barrel of ale. Busy talking to patrons, he gives no heed to Finn or me. Typical tavern kinsmen. They love their gossip as much as a Malamian market-goer.
I scowl in the man’s direction and rap my knuckles on the tacky surface of the bar.
“Coming, coming,” the barkeep grumbles. He moves in front of me, arms resting on the bar between us. His eyes, yellowed whites surrounding black irises, take in my little brother and me. “What’ll ya have?”
This town, Rasimere Crossing, in the remote southern plains of Shaerdan, isn’t one I’ve been to before. Since both countries backed down from the war, tension is mountain high. Harder to navigate too. Hardly a contact in Shaerdan will speak to me without drawing a sword. Yesterday, a barkeep up north confirmed that Lord Jamis’s mistress, Phelia, was only a half day ahead of us and headed here. Within days after Jamis’s arrest, the high lord had squawked about the Spiriter’s identity. Course, it took a bit of Omar’s torture to get it out of him.
It’s not uncommon for noblemen at court to have mistresses. The women keep to themselves. For this reason, I doubt anyone would’ve thought her a threat. Especially since association with a high nobleman comes with some protection. Still, it’s not a mistake that I, or the few men who know the harm the Spiriter inflicted, will make again.
As soon as she was identified, King Aodren sent me after her. I’ve followed Phelia’s trail across Malam and into the dangers of Shaerdan. And now, finally, Siron’s speed has bought us enough time to cross paths.
The bloody hunt’s had me noosed for a month. That’s a month longer than I’ve wanted to be gone from Brentyn and Britta. And damn if I haven’t felt off the entire time we’ve been apart. Like distance has set me adrift.
Today the hunt ends.
Most barkeeps won’t suffer a man who’ll fill a chair and not pay to fill a cup or four. Even so, I’ve no time for primer drinks. “We’re looking for our mother, who came south to find work.” In a Shaerdanian lilt, I go on with the fib, explaining that we’re soldiers returning from the war—?or almost war since it ended a little over a month ago, before it officially began. “Light brown hair, blue eyes, about this tall. Goes by the name Phelia.” I hold my hand up, providing the description that the castle attendants gave me. “Seen anyone like that?”
The man pushes his tongue into the side of his cheek and then slides it over half-blackened teeth. “Aye. Perhaps.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Yeah. Might’ve seen someone matching that description earlier.”
“How long ago?” Finn cuts in. I shoot him a look. His Shaerdanian accent wouldn’t fool a deaf goat. Told him as much in the last town.
The barkeep doesn’t seem to notice. He plunks a couple mugs on the counter. “Before we get too chatty, let me get you fellas a drink.”
It’s a fight to keep the easy smile on my face, knowing he likely holds information about Phelia. My hand shifts to my belt, to cover the parchment hidden in the leather. The motion usually centers me.
“Or, if you’re aiming to take off sooner . . .” The man taps a glass on the counter. “You can pay for a drink and leave with some answers.”
Right. Should’ve thrown money at him in the first place. I withdraw some coins, dropping them to plink on the wood. “Good enough?”
“Cohen.” Finn’s sharp whisper snags my attention. He reaches for the coins.
The man’s fist slams Finn’s hand flat against the bar.
My brother yelps.
Confused, I shove my chair back and lean into the barkeep’s face. “Get your hand off my brother.”
The music stops. Every eye in the tavern cuts to us. A few men rise to their feet.
“No Shaerdanian would pay with Malam coins,” the barkeep says.
My jaw ticks, insides seizing like Siron’s kicked me in the gut.
Bloody seeds.
“You think I’m one of those scrants?” I spit, leaning heavily into a Shaerdanian accent that sounds loud but flat in the silent room.
Finn’s eyes volley around the tavern and back to his trapped hand. The kid hides his panic as well as a tabby cat in a wolf den.
“Your brother looks like he’s about to toss his last meal. Doesn’t seem soldierly to me.” He grips Finn’s fingers, ripping away my brother’s hand to pick up the damning coins.
Three prayers Finn doesn’t open his mouth.
“Must’ve forgot those were in my pocket.” I lean back in my chair. Shrug. “Needed some Malamian silvers at the border. Nothing to spoil a man’s drink over.”
Boots scratch the plank floor. Men step closer.
The barkeep cocks his head. “A fortnight back, two teenage girls went missing. Upset a lot of kinsmen ’round here. A town over, a girl was taken just a week ago. Her pa saw the men who did it. Tried to fight them and lost his life. Poor man’s wife caught sight of the raiders as they were shoving her girl in a carriage. Heard ’em speak. Said they sounded Malamian. Now, why would a few ball-less scrants from Malam want our girls? Maybe they’re itching to rekindle the war they almost started. What do you know of that, traveler?”
“No more than tavern hearsay.” During my travels I’ve caught a few stories similar to this man’s. Daughters taken at night. Some snatched during the day. No women, just girls. It’s enough to raise concerns, but that’s something to focus on after I’ve got Phelia manacled.
“Now, I can see you’re a smart man,” I tell the barkeep. “You don’t really think my brother and me have something to do with that. Coins don’t mean anything. Collector’s items.”
“Your brother’s awfully silent.”
“He’s shy. You scare the piss out of him.”
A shadow shifts over my left shoulder. A giant of a man glares down at us. “Yeah, speak, boy.”
“Leave him out of this.” My unspoken warning is clear.
Another person moves behind Finn, blocking the path to the door. “Maybe we’ve caught us two of their spies. Maybe we pry loose answers about where they been hiding our girls.” His bush of a beard barely moves when he talks, the comment sliding from the slits of his lips like snakes from under a briar. He must not really think we’re the kidnappers, or he’d have gutted us already. Still, I eye his hand as it moves to the dagger tucked into his belt. “Explain yourself, boy.”
In Finn’s fourteen years, I figure I’ve seen every one of my brother’s expressions. The wide tooth-and-gum smile he flashes when he catches a river trout. How tight-knit his brows get when he’s frustrated or angry. The somber set of his eyes before we part for months on end. None of those expressions match the look he’s giving me now. Panic and fear and something more. Something like disappointment.
I put a hand on Finn’s shoulder, squeezing. Reassuring. “He’s a boy. One who needs to get back to tending fields. Not sit around in taverns. Time to go, Finn.”
“You aren’t leaving so soon” comes from the Goliath behind me.
“It’s the truth.” Finn misses the accent target by a league.
“He’s from Malam!” the barkeep yells.
Bloody seeds!
Someone reaches for Finn, but my brother skitters out of his seat. I slam an elbow into the man behind me before he can grab Finn. “Get out of here,” I rasp.
My brother jerks away, maneuvering for the door before more kinsmen come at me. Four to one aren’t bad odds, considering the barkeep is blocked by the counter.
The bearded man charges. I jump back, grab my stool, and shove it into his gut. Angling for the door, I slam a shoulder against another fellow. Fend off a punch. Take a fist square to the chin. Bludger.
I block a hit, bob out of reach from someone coming at my side, and narrowly avoid a crashing stool. Cheers erupt over the fight. A few voices shout to end it. Or end me. The tavern is chaos.
I manage to push someone onto the playing table. Cards scatter. Money falls to the floor. The diversion leaves one mountain of a man between the exit and me. He’s easily a half-head taller and a half-body bigger. The zing of his drawn sword has me cursing.
The man swings. I grasp a stool, thrusting it between us to catch his blade before it takes off my limb. My arms rattle from wrists to elbows. I use all my strength to twist the stool and shove, a move that sends the man off-balance and gives me the opening I need to flee the tavern.
Finn’s across the street, headed for an alley. I scramble after him, my breath running hard. The tavern thugs chase us around town, but they’re drunk and we’re sober. We wind through shops and hide in shadows until we’ve lost any followers.
On the northern outskirts of Rasimere Crossing, an old barn sits unused. We settle against the wall that faces the forest and catch our breath.
Sweat slides down Finn’s temples. “Cannot believe that.”
“I nearly got you killed.” I’m so angry, it comes out choppy. I promised Ma and myself I’d keep him safe. Piss of a job I’ve done.
“Nah, you made me leave before it got to the good part.”
I rub my thumb over the scar that starts beneath my cheekbone and hides in my short beard. “The good part?”
“I didn’t get any punches in, but still . . .”
“Shouldn’t have been in a situation for you to throw punches.”
“My first tavern fight,” he says, awed.
“Don’t be a fool.”
He grins, teeth and gums shining under the sun.
Footsteps clap against the ground around the corner. I grab my dagger as a girl holding a sword steps into sight. There’s something familiar about her raven hair and tan face. Irritated that she was able to sneak up on us, I gesture with the point of my blade. “Stop there and state your business.”
Her lips twitch. “Nice to see you too, Cohen.”
My frown sets. I rack my brain. Who’s this girl?
She lets out a short, squeaky laugh that sounds like it’s being pressed through a windbag. “You don’t remember who I am? We met once . . .” She trails off, as if hoping I’ll pick up the scent. “In Celize.”
“I meet a lot of people.”
Her grin fades. “At Enat’s home.”
A memory surfaces of a log home outside of Celize. My scowl shifts into surprise. “The Archtraitor’s daughter. Lirra, right?”
Her father is infamous for openly opposing the Purge Proclamation—?a decree that eliminated most Channelers in Malam—?and defecting to Shaerdan after his wife and small child were killed because of his outspoken defiance.
Lirra cinches up straighter than an arrow. “Don’t call him the Archtraitor. Around here, he’s just Millner Barrett.”
“No offense intended.”
She eyeballs my dagger. “Lower your blade, hunter. I know where you can find the woman you’re hunting.”

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#Friday Review - Ever the Hunted by Erin Summerill #YALit #Fantasy @erinsummerill @HMHKids

Series: Clash of Kingdoms # 1
Format: E-Galley, 400 pages
Release Date: December 27, 2016
Publisher: HMH Books for Young Readers

Source: NetGalley
Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult

Seventeen year-old Britta Flannery is at ease only in the woods with her dagger and bow. She spends her days tracking criminals alongside her father, the legendary bounty hunter for the King of Malam—that is, until her father is murdered. Now outcast and alone and having no rights to her father’s land or inheritance, she seeks refuge where she feels most safe: the Ever Woods. When Britta is caught poaching by the royal guard, instead of facing the noose she is offered a deal: her freedom in exchange for her father’s killer.

However, it’s not so simple.

The alleged killer is none other than Cohen McKay, her father’s former apprentice. The only friend she’s ever known. The boy she once loved who broke her heart. She must go on a dangerous quest in a world of warring kingdoms, mad kings, and dark magic to find the real killer. But Britta wields more power than she knows. And soon she will learn what has always made her different will make her a daunting and dangerous force.

Ever the Hunter is the first installment in author Erin Summerill's Clash of Kingdoms series. 17-year old Britta Flannery is in a tough spot. Her father Saul was murdered. The King is ready to seize his lands. She has no rights because of a fickle rule about being born the daughter of a Shaerdanian traitor, therefore making her an outcast with no possibilities of inheriting her father's land or title. 

But, what she does have going for her is that she was trained by the best hunters, her father, to have served the King. She knows the ins and outs of the forest. She knows how to track, and how to use a bow and arrow. The same bow and arrow she uses to feed herself about several months of isolation. 

Funny how that works out when you are starving, and are caught by the King's guard poaching on his land and find yourself believing you are going to die no matter what she says. 

But, fate has other ideas. Britta is given an ultimatum of sorts. Either help track down her father's killer, presumably her childhood best friend Cohen MacKay who she has feelings for, or face death by hanging. The catch is that she has to take others along with her which includes a captain that hates her, a guard who wants to brutalize her, and another guard who may be her only ally. Britta has yet another surprise up her sleeve. Not only is she an excellent tracker, but she has the understand of when someone is telling the truth, or when someone is lying.

This is a land where two countries have different ideas about how things are done. Britta's country of Malem is lead by a King who refuses to allow magic into his country. So called Channeler's have been rounded up and hanged. In her mother's homeland of Shaerdan, things are definitely different. Channeler's are allowed free reign, and they are cheered on. Channeler's are people who have access to the 4 elements, plus spirit. The characters will find themselves stuck between two warring factions, a captain who wants revenge, and someone behind the scenes guiding the actions that could lead the two countries to war. 

I dare say that if you like plot driven stories, with remarkably strong heroines, then Ever the Hunted is a story that you must read soon. I adore Britta's courage, her tenacity, her tracking abilities, and her special skill set that obviously will come into play as the series continues. There is a very, very curious ending to this series, and I can't fathom the reason behind it. Probably kept me from rating this higher. 

I received a copy of this book from the author via NetGalley in exchange for a honest review

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