Chapter 1: Seraphine Chapter 1 Seraphine Seraphine Marchant stood trembling beneath the storm''s blinding fury, reaching desperately for the sky. A bell rang under her feet, signaling the changing of the hour. Gong! Gong! Gong! Lightning skewered her like an arrow, lancing through her in a shock of bone-melting heat. Pain erupted, the world spinning as she fell. In the center of it all, shone a moon-white clock face, slowly tick-ticking on. Screams rang out, calling her name. Only it was not her name. Not my memory.
Not me at all. Then came the hard slap of earth-- Waking with a strangled gasp, Sera shot upright in her seat. Pippin, who had been napping on her lap, pricked his ears up, a low growl rumbling in his chest. On the bench across from her, Bibi pitched forward, grabbing her hand. "You''re all right," she said, squeezing gently. "You were just dreaming." Still panting, Sera swept the ribbons of her blond hair back from her face. "I must have dozed off.
" Bibi''s blue eyes pooled with concern. "Was it the same one again?" Sera frowned, nodding. "The clock tower." It was almost always the clock tower, those screams that didn''t know her, that place she didn''t recognize. "We''re here," said Bibi, tugging her away from the memory. "Take a look." Peering out of the back of the wagon, Sera watched the sleepy village of Aberville unfurl like a setting from a storybook. This quaint town of winding cobbled streets and stone cottages, charming shopfronts crowned in frilled awnings, and the clustering pine forests that cradled it from the chaos of Fantome.
The last of the winter frost made everything glitter, crusting the windows and clinging to the rooftops like diamond teardrops. Nestled in the rolling countryside, Aberville was a considerable journey from the northern mountain village of Halbracht, where they had made their home these past three months. Not that Sera had been bored on the way down here, with Bibi and her beloved mutt Pip for company. They had passed the days playing cards in the back of the wagon, Pip chewing happily on Sera''s bootlaces while Bibi insisted on a game of I spy whenever they passed through a town or village. They spent their nights in whichever local inn was closest to them when the horses began to tire, Sera smuggling Pippin in underneath her coat, before devouring whatever local stew was on offer. Bibi leaned out of the window as they came to a stop outside the yellow-bricked cottage that belonged to Othilde Eberhard, the most seasoned smuggler in Valterre. "Look at the size of that garden. I think I see a lake back there.
" Outside, birds chirped in the trees, heralding the coming of spring. It had been months since Sera had heard that sound. The mountain hawks of Halbracht preferred to shriek, and if a rogue robin ever chirped, it was quickly outmatched by the braying horses and bleating goats. She took it as a good omen. They hopped out of the wagon, Sera calling to Remy, their driver, "We won''t be long. An hour. Maybe two." "Show time," muttered Bibi, just as Pippin jumped out after them.
The smuggler''s scowling face watched them from the window. Scooping him up before he could urinate on the snowdrops, Sera cradled Pippin in her arms, hoping to all hell Othilde Eberhard liked dogs. An hour later, Sera found herself pacing by the lake at the bottom of Othilde Eberhard''s garden. She could practically feel the old woman''s eyes on the back of her head, watching from her kitchen window. Contemplating the offer Sera and Bibi had just made. In essence, this: Leave behind the only trade you''ve ever known. Wager everything you have on Lightfire. Lightfire, the antidote to Shade.
A golden dust-like substance that could easily nullify the power of Shade''s lethal shadows. After managing to sweet-talk themselves into Othilde''s cottage, they had presented their offer to her, along with a precious vial. The smuggler had heard about the monsters of Fantome and the power of Lightfire already, and had been intrigued by their offer, listening intently as they explained how they had first discovered the ancient magical antidote to Shade and then what they planned to do with it: perfect the final recipe and flood the city of Fantome until every single person had a store of Lightfire at their fingertips. Protection against the Daggers would weaken their hold on the capital, and eventually banish the dark power of Shade magic for good. They weren''t just presenting a new vocation. They were presenting a new Order. A new world. And they wanted Othilde, who was seasoned and clever and quick with her hands, to be a part of it.
Not only as an asset to the Order of Flames but as a vital loss to the Order of Daggers. After all, fewer smugglers meant less Shade in circulation. Othilde had broken her silence to call them a pair of disruptors, nicknamed Sera Trouble (with begrudging affection), and then shooed them from her house so she could think. The minutes crawled. Flinging a stick for Pippin, Sera watched the three-legged terrier run after it like a little gray bullet. Her lips curled into a slow smile. The smell of the pine trees and the long grass brushing against her shins, the trill of birdsong, and the wide bowl of the pale sky all reminded her of home. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself back in the plains, standing in the garden of her old life, playing fetch with Pip.
Somewhere behind her, Mama was tending to her flower baskets, pruning the dead leaves and planting daffodil bulbs to flower in the spring. It was so real this memory. This feeling. Home. Happiness. Sera''s chest warmed, her cheeks prickling with the sudden nearness of her magic. This strange, unpredictable force had taken root inside her three months ago atop the Aurore Tower. She had come to know it as a kind of fire.
A flame lit from within, though she did not understand how it worked, or what it wanted from her. Sometimes, when she was sad or scared or angry, it burned like a bonfire in her heart. But at other times, it was cold and slumbering somewhere beyond her reach. A gift she couldn''t quite unwrap. A magic that fascinated and confounded her in equal measure. A secret only her closest friends knew about. "Mind you don''t fall into my lake, Trouble. Old Othilde won''t be fishing you out.
I have not bent these creaky knees in twenty years." Her eyes flying open, Sera spun around. Othilde Eberhard was standing in the reeds, wearing a pair of bright red rain boots. Thin as a rake and short as one too, the rest of her was swaddled in an oversized plaid coat. Her long white hair was stark against her olive skin and billowing freely in the wind. "I have come to my decision." Seraphine blinked. "That was quick.
" Was it? How long had she been standing out here, lost in thought? And where had Bibi wandered off to? Othilde crooked a pale brow. "How long did the other smugglers take to consider your offer?" "I haven''t visited very many," Sera admitted. After she''d fled Fantome and found refuge in Halbracht with Bibi, Val, and Theo, she''d barely had time to catch her breath. Within a matter of weeks, winter had whipped up with such a fury, it had made travel down from Halbracht almost impossible. Her grand plans for Lightfire--for Fantome--had only recently kicked up again. "But the one before you chased me from his garden with an iron skillet, so." "So, clever old Othilde was not on top of your recruitment list, then." Really, it wasn''t a matter of preference but proximity.
"How does top five sound?" "Sounds like horse manure." Othilde jerked her head, as Pippin came striding back, stick in mouth. He dropped it at her feet. She surrendered a dusty smile. "Did you bring the mutt to sway me?" "That depends. Did it work?" She picked up the stick and threw it. "All my life, I have lived by the man-made darkness of this kingdom," said Othilde, as Pip took off again. "But I have heard the whispers of Lightfire.
Rumors of a Fantome that might have been, if Lucille Versini had had her way." She shook her head, regret misting her brown eyes. "I never believed those stories until the monsters came. If I had known." She trailed off, her lips twisting. "Perhaps I would have devoted my life to a better cause. A better world. The one our saints left behind.
" "There''s still time to reach for that world," said Sera, without judgment. It was never simple, the business of Shade smuggling. For many, it simply meant surviving. Crawling out of poverty and pain and hardship and clinging onto life by your fingertips. She would not judge Othilde for the same choices her own mother had made. "There''s still time to make your mark on Fantome, Othilde." They had Mama to thank for that. Sylvie Marchant had given her life to the pursuit of Lightfire.
In the end, she had died because of it, nearly dragging Fantome down with her. Months had passed since the monsters she had poisoned began their reign of terror in the city. Hundreds of families were still in mourning. And as for the Order of Daggers. Sera still had no idea how many had perished on the night the monsters ripped through the catacombs. How many would still be alive if she had climbed the Aurore Tower when she was supposed to and set al.