As King, Andreus wasn’t sure he could ever trust Lord Garret, but he did appreciate how the man insisted on wielding the blade that severed his uncle’s body from his traitorous head. Garret had in a small way helped Carys return in time to save Eden. Andreus would not forget that.
He squinted up at the northern windmill as it churned against the sky. The wind had blown steady since the end of the Trials. The lights inside the Palace of Winds and down in Garden City glowed, and Andreus was busy working with the Masters on creating new wind power storage devices to aid them the next time the wind refused to blow. The people of Garden City had faced the darkness once. He didn’t want them to have to face it again.
“I hear the Queen is busy making preparations for the wedding,” Errik said quietly. “And that you’ve assigned Graylem to serve as her new chamberlain.”
More like her jailer since Andreus did not have time to watch his mother every minute of the day. The madness that had started when Micah fell in her treacherous plot had only grown worse since Oben’s death. Everyone had assumed it was the loss of the Princess that had sent the Queen into fits of weeping. Andreus did not correct them. Then suddenly, his mother had appeared in the Hall of Virtues looking calm. She was dressed in a bejeweled golden gown, her crown nestled in intricately woven hair. She spoke quietly to members of the court. She laughed at the entertainers who juggled apples and wedges of cheese. She had even smiled at Max when Andreus asked the boy to bring her a goblet of wine.
He did not mention Oben or the secrets his mother had revealed on the last night of the Trials, and she acted as if none of it had happened. Part of him had been relieved, and pushed away the niggling concern he had when he saw her smile as Elder Jacobs offered his arm and asked to escort her to her rooms. Elder Jacobs was found the next day in the chapel on the stone floor—his throat slit into a wide, bloody smile.
Now Graylem escorted the Queen through the castle and watched for the telltale sign of her toying with the ruby-crusted dagger on her belt while members of the court whispered about the rumor of a scorned mistress who killed the Elder out of revenge. Not the most original story, but it was better than revealing the truth of Elder Jacobs’s allegiance to the Queen and the secret of Andreus’s birth.
“Lord Graylem doesn’t seem to mind his new position,” Andreus said.
And Errik laughed. “Neither do the Queen’s ladies in waiting. I hear they find him quite charming.”
“Are you jealous, Lord Errik?” Andreus asked.
Errik’s smile faded and he touched the stiletto at his side. He’d worn it every day since Andreus had climbed down the walls and presented it to him along with his sister’s final words.
“You don’t believe she’s dead,” Andreus said, hoping Errik could confirm what deep in his heart he believed. He knew it was foolish. He had checked the loose stone in the staircase to the battlements and found it to be empty. He had stood over Larkin’s body in the Tomb of Light in his sister’s stead. Carys was gone. And yet he doubted because every day he waited for the emptiness in his heart to appear in the space his sister currently filled. The emptiness never came.
Errik looked beyond the walls at the land beyond the battlements and smiled. “No, Your Majesty,” he said quietly. “I don’t believe she is dead. She’s out there somewhere, and I will find her. You see, I have something of hers she wishes me to return.”
Carys’s hair fluttered as she placed a coin into the hand of each man who manned the sails and oars of the small water vessel. They closed their greedy fists over the gold even as they cast nervous glances at the dock. A gentle mist hovered over the shore, making it hard to see what lay beyond.
“Are you sure this is the place, m’lady?” the older of the two men asked, shoving the coin deep into a grimy pocket of his thick, well-worn sea coat. He ran his tanned, wrinkled hand over his gray-streaked hair as he looked at the shore and then back at her. “Strange things happen here, they say. Not that I believe the stories, mind yeh.”
Carys looked back at the dock and sent out a question to the voice of the wind. The air stirred, revealing a white bridge beyond the docks and a path that snaked into a grove of squat trees.
“I thank you both for your service,” she said with great sincerity. “And I wish you safe passage on your return.” With that, she picked up her skirts, climbed up the narrow, rickety stairs that led to the edge of the small vessel, and stepped onto the gray stone dock.
The sailors untied the boat and the air around her danced, pushing the two men away from the dock without them ever having to pick up an oar. The journey to the island had been faster than they had expected. Carys was certain their voyage back would be equally as quick and that they would fail to find the island again if ever they chose to attempt to return.
Carys reached into her travel bag and pulled out the jeweled slippers the Seeress Kiara had handed to her weeks ago. Inside was the slip of paper—the map to this island—that had been tucked inside. These slippers would unlock the walls that had defined her for so long.
Princess.
Daughter.
Sister.
Defender.
Carys looked toward the Fire Sea and wondered how long it would take for Errik to make his way to this island. He had said he would always find her, and he had made it a point to place the stiletto in her hand whenever it went astray. She was counting on him to do it again.
Turning her back on the water, she walked toward the bridge, thinking of her brother, wishing she could stand by him as he became the kind of king that she hoped he would be. But she knew it was time for him to fight his own battles just as it was time for her to do the same.
The wind tickled her neck, and in the distance several figures appeared. She saw a familiar woman in a white gown step onto the bridge and beckon Carys forward. With a smile Seeress Kiara held out her hand and said, “Welcome to the Isle of the Seers, Carys. Are you ready to take your place among us?”
Carys returned the seeress’s smile. The voice of the wind rang with excitement as Carys said, “Yes, I believe I am.”
The walls were gone. Carys’s life was hers, and it was finally time to find out who and what she was truly meant to be.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing a book is a lot like climbing a mountain. It is a long process that’s fun, exhausting, intimidating, scary, and exciting. Thankfully, I never have to climb the mountain alone.
As always I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my family, especially my Skittles-providing husband, Andy; my enthusiastic son, Max; and my pun-loving mother (and assistant), Jaci, for putting up with my late nights and my fits of doubt. I’m not sure how you deal with it, but I am glad you do.
I also owe a huge group hug to the HarperTeen team. I am so honored to work with you all! To Kristen Pettit, thank you for your emails filled with exclamation points and enthusiasm for gruesome deaths. I also owe a huge shout-out to PR person extraordinaire Ro Romanello, who makes sure I never feel alone when I am on the road. Also, big thanks to Elizabeth Lynch for her attention to detail and her ability to always be near her computer. (How do you do that?) And I would be remiss if I didn’t give my most heartfelt thanks to Jennifer Klonsky, production editor Emily Rader, copy editor Chris Fortunato, designer Jenna Stempel-Lobell, and artists Toby & Pete, as well as the entire marketing, publicity, and Epic Reads teams. You are all amazing.
No matter what story mountain I decide to climb, I am beyond honored to have the incomparable Stacia Decker right beside me making sure I don’t fall. You are my agent, my friend, and my literary rock. Thank you for always being there to brainstorm at all hours of the day and night, and for not ignoring my crazy texts and emails. I honestly am not sure what I would do without you.
To all the booksellers, librarians, and teachers who dedicate their lives to giving readers the love of stories—thank you! When you give someone a book, you aren’t just giving them a tale of adventure or love or magic. You are helping them look at the
world from other points of view and opening their hearts to new possibilities. The world is a better place because of all of you.
Finally, I want to thank every reader who has opened the pages of one of my books. With so many worlds to explore, I am so grateful you have chosen to spend time in mine.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JOELLE CHARBONNEAU has performed in opera and musical theater productions across Chicagoland. She is the author of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling Testing trilogy as well as two adult mystery series and several other books for young adult readers. Her YA books have appeared on the Indie Next List, the YALSA Top Ten Quick Picks for Reluctant Young Adult Readers list, and state reading lists across the country. Joelle lives in the Chicago area with her husband and son.
www.joellecharbonneau.com
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BOOKS BY JOELLE CHARBONNEAU
Dividing Eden
Into the Garden (digital novella)
Forbidden Fruit (digital novella)
Eden Conquered
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COPYRIGHT
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
EDEN CONQUERED. Copyright © 2018 by HarperCollins Publisher. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Cover art by Toby & Pete
Cover design by Jenna Stempel-Lobell
* * *
Digital Edition JUNE 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-245389-1
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-245387-7
ISBN 978-0-06-284497-2 (international edition)
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1819202122PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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Joelle Charbonneau, Eden Conquered
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