Begin ReadingTable of ContentsAbout the AuthorCopyright PageThank you for buying thisSt. Martin’s Publishing Group ebook.To receive special offers, bonus content,and info on new releases and other great reads,sign up for our newsletters.Or visit us online atus.macmillan.com/newslettersignupFor email updates on the author, click here.OceanofPDF.com The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for yourpersonal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in anyway. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copyof this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright,please notify the publisher at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.OceanofPDF.com For Isabel Ibañez,who read this book as I wrote it,who convinced me to add Roman’s POV,& who occasionally lets me get away with things.P.S. I’m talking about Chapter 34.OceanofPDF.com Write me of hope and love, and hearts that endured.—EMILY DICKINSONOceanofPDF.com PrologueCold fog had settled over the depot like a burial shroud, and Iris Winnowthought the weather couldn’t have been better. She could hardly see thetrain through the gloam, but she could taste it in the evening air: metal andsmoke and burning coal, all woven together with a trace of petrichor. Thewooden platform was slick beneath her shoes, gleaming with rain puddlesand piles of decaying leaves.When Forest came to a stop at her side, she stopped as well, as if shewere his mirror. The two of them were often mistaken for twins with theirwide-set hazel eyes, wavy chestnut hair, and the freckles that spilled acrosstheir noses. But Forest was tall, Iris petite. He was five years her senior, andfor the first time in her life, Iris wished that she were older than him.“I won’t be gone long,” he said. “Only a few months, I think.”Her brother glanced at her in the fading light, waiting for her to respond.It was eventide, the moment between darkness and light, when theconstellations began to dust the sky and the city lamps flickered to life inreply. Iris could feel the draw of it—Forest’s concerned stare and the goldenlight that illuminated the low-hanging clouds—and yet her eyes wandered,desperate for a distraction. A moment to blink away her tears before Forestcould see them.There was a soldier to her right. A young woman dressed in a perfectlystarched uniform. Iris was struck by a wild thought. One that must havetraveled across her face, because Forest cleared his throat.“I should come with you,” Iris said, meeting his gaze. “It’s not too late. Ican enlist—” “No, Iris,” Forest replied sharply. “You made me two promises,remember?”Two promises, hardly a day old. Iris frowned. “How could I forget.”“Then speak them back to me.”She crossed her arms to ward off the autumn chill and the strangecadence in Forest’s voice. There was a hint of desperation she hadn’t heardin him until now, and gooseflesh rippled across her arms beneath her thinsweater.“Take care of Mum,” she said, mimicking his baritone. It brought a smileto his face. “Stay in school.”“I believe it was a bit more than a gruff ‘Stay in school,’” Forest said,nudging her foot with his boot. “You brilliant academic who has yet to missa day of class in all her years. They give awards for that, you know.”“Fine.” Iris relented, a blush nipping her cheeks. “You said, ‘Promiseme you’ll enjoy your final year of school, and I’ll be back in time to see yougraduate.’”“Yes,” Forest said, but his smile began to wane.He didn’t know when he’d return. It was a promise he couldn’t keep toher, although he continued to make it sound as if the war would end in amatter of months. A war that had only just begun.What if I had been the one to hear the song? Iris thought, her heart soheavy it felt bruised against her ribs. If I had encountered the goddess andnot him … would he let me go like this?Her gaze dropped to Forest’s chest. The place where his own heart wasbeating beneath his olive-green uniform. A bullet could pierce him in a splitsecond. A bullet could keep him from ever returning home.“Forest, I—”She was interrupted by a shrill whistle that made her jump. It was thelast call to board, and there was a sudden shuffle toward the train cars. Irisshivered again.“Here,” Forest said, setting down his leather satchel. “I want you to havethis.”Iris watched as her brother opened the clasp and withdrew his tan-colored trench coat. He held it out to her, arching his brow when she merely stared at it.“But you’ll need it,” she argued.“They’ll give me one,” he replied. “Something war approved, I imagine.Go on, take it, Little Flower.”Iris swallowed, accepting his trench coat. She slipped her arms into it,belting the worn fabric tight across her waist. It was too big for her, but itwas comforting. It felt like armor. She sighed.“You know, this smells like the horologist’s shop,” she drawled.Forest laughed. “And what, exactly, does a horologist’s shop smelllike?”“Like dusty, half-wound clocks and expensive oil and those tiny metalinstruments you use to fix all the broken pieces.” But that was only partlytrue. The coat also held a remnant of the Revel Diner, where she and Forestwould eat dinner at least twice a week while their mother waited tables. Itsmelled of the riverside park, of moss and damp stones and long walks, andForest’s sandalwood aftershave because, no matter how much he wantedone, he couldn’t grow a beard.“Then it should keep you good company,” he said, slinging his satchelover his shoulder. “And you can have the wardrobe all to yourself now.”Iris knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but it only made herstomach ache to think about the small closet they shared in their flat. As ifshe would truly store his clothes somewhere else while he was gone.“I’m sure I’ll need the spare hangers, since—as you well know—I keepup with all the current fashion trends,” Iris countered wryly, hoping Forestcouldn’t hear the sadness in her voice.He only smiled.This was it, then. The platform was nearly empty of soldiers, and thetrain was hissing through the gloom. A knot welled in Iris’s throat; she bitthe inside of her cheek as Forest embraced her. She closed her eyes, feelingthe scratch of his linen uniform against her cheek, and she held the wordsshe wanted to say in her mouth like water: How can you love this goddessmore than me? How can you leave me like this?Their mother had already spoken such sentiments, angry and upset withForest for enlisting. Aster Winnow had refused to come to the depot to see him off, and Iris imagined she was at home, weeping as the denial woreaway.The train began to move, creeping along the tracks.Forest slipped from Iris’s arms.“Write to me,” she whispered.“I promise.”He took a few steps backward, holding her gaze. There was no fear inhis eyes. Only a dark, feverish determination. And then Forest turned,rushing to board the train.Iris followed until he disappeared into the closest car. She lifted herhand and waved, even as tears blurred her vision, and she stood on theplatform long after the train had vanished into the fog. Rainwater wasseeping into her shoes. The lamps flickered overhead, buzzing like wasps.The crowd had dispersed, and Iris felt hollow—alone—as she began towalk home.Her hands were cold, and she slipped them into the coat pockets. Thatwas when she felt it—a crinkle of paper. Frowning, she assumed it was acandy wrapper that Forest had forgotten about until she pulled it out tostudy in the dim light.It was a small piece of paper, folded crookedly, with a vein of typedwords. Iris couldn’t resist smiling, even as her heart ached. She read:Just in case you didn’t know … you are by far the best sister I’ve ever had. I’m so proud ofyou.And I’ll be home before you know it, Little Flower.OceanofPDF.com PART ONELetters Through the WardrobeOceanofPDF.com {1}Sworn EnemiesFIVE MONTHS LATERIris dashed through the rain with a broken high heel and a tattered trenchcoat. Hope was beating wildly in her chest, granting her speed and luck asshe crossed the tram tracks downtown. She had been anticipating this dayfor weeks, and she knew she was ready. Even soaked, limping, and hungry.Her first pang of unease came when she stepped into the lobby. This wasan old building, constructed before the gods were vanquished. A few ofthose dead divines were painted on the ceiling, and despite the cracks andthe faint light of the low-hanging chandeliers, Iris always glanced up atthem. Gods and goddesses dancing among the clouds, dressed in longgilded robes with stars gleaming in their hair, their gazes sweeping theground. It sometimes felt like those painted eyes were watching her, and Irisstifled a shiver. She removed her mangled right shoe and hurried to the liftwith a stilted gait, thoughts of the gods swiftly fading when she thoughtabout him. Perhaps the rain had slowed down Roman too, and she still had achance.She waited a full minute. The confounded lift must be stuck, of all days,and she decided to take the stairs, hustling up to the fifth floor. She wasshaking and sweating when she finally pushed through the heavy doors tothe Oath Gazette, greeted by a wash of yellow lamplight, the scent of strongtea, and the morning hustle of preparing the newspaper.She was four minutes late. Iris stood amidst the hum, her gaze flickering to Roman’s desk.It was empty, and she was pleased until she glanced at the assignmentboard and saw him standing there, waiting for her to appear. As soon astheir eyes met, he gave her a lazy smile and reached up to the board,yanking a piece of paper from a pin. The last assignment.Iris didn’t move, not even when Roman Kitt wound around the cubiclesto greet her. He was tall and lithe with cheekbones that could cut stone, andhe waved the piece of paper in the air, just out of her reach. The piece ofpaper she so badly wanted.“Late again, Winnow,” he greeted her. “The second time this week.”“I didn’t know you were keeping tally, Kitt.”His smirk eased as his gaze dropped to her hands, cradling her brokenshoe. “Looks like you ran into a bit of trouble this time.”“Not at all,” she replied, her chin tilted upward. “I planned for this, ofcourse.”“For your heel to break?”“For you to get this final assignment.”“Going easy on me, then?” He arched a brow. “That’s surprising. We’resupposed to duel to the death.”She snorted. “A hyperbolic turn of phrase, Kitt. Which you do often inyour articles, by the way. You should be careful of that tendency if you getcolumnist.”A lie. Iris rarely read what he wrote. But he didn’t know that.Roman’s eyes narrowed. “What’s so hyperbolic about soldiers goingmissing at the front?”Iris’s stomach clenched, but she hid her reaction with a thin smile. “Isthat the topic of the last assignment? Thanks for letting me know.” Sheturned away from him and began to weave around cubicles to her desk.“It doesn’t matter if you know it,” he insisted as he followed her. “I havethe assignment.”She reached her desk and flicked on her lamp. “Of course, Kitt.”He wasn’t leaving. He continued to stand by her cubicle, watching herset down her tapestry bag and her mangled high heel like it was a badge of