Cross - FLIGHT

Flight
YA Fantasy

Text copyright 2019 by Katie Cross

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, or incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities or resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or places, is entirely coincidental.

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All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author. For information regarding permission, send a query to the author at .

Published by Antebellum Publishing. Visit www.kcrosswriting.com for more information about the author, updates, or new books.

KOBO EDITION ISBN 978-1-946508-27-0 VERSION 1.1

To all the Sannas.
You are a powerful being. Its time you learned it for yourself.

Acknowledgments

G ive me an intense fantasy world, multiple conflict strains, a massive word count goal, and a fast deadline, and Ill gladly tackle that without fear. But put a blank acknowledgments page in front of me, and suddenly, my brain is empty.

Because so many people assist in the making of a great book.

First off, to my amazing support team that deal with a lot of late night calls and frustrations when the magic just wont come together! Stephan, Kelsey, Brandy, Ta-rah. You support a girl like rockstahs. Thanks. My production team: Jenny, Kella. Stephanie / Catherine, Chris, Kristen, and all the people in betweenthank you SO much for all that you do. Your books are beautiful, and I couldnt do what I do without you.

To my launch team, without whom I would never be able to enjoy launching a new book so much, and who set me up for ultimate success. Thank you for caring, for connecting, and for helping. I wish I could name all of you individually. You all have places in my heart!

For my fans, who read, email, and are the worlds best people everthanks. Connecting with you is the reason I write YA Fantasy.

Husband, Little Man, and Warrior Princesslove yer freaking guts. Thanks for being my inspiration. To those I may have missed: I adore you all, and I totally blame baby brain.

Chapter One

T he chilly fingers of winter crept into Isadora Spences carriage through gaps in the door. She frowned at the wide cracks and pulled her cloak more tightly around her shoulders.

Winter was so intrusive.

The carriage wheels creaked with every jolt, both seemingly threatening to collapse and announcing their exact location. Could the traveling box be any louder? Or older? Maximillion likely chose it on purposejust to make her more uncomfortable. Any minute now and the faded cushions beneath her would break their last string and split in half.

Still, it was safer than being out there.

A thick band of darkness stretched across the horizon, no doubt teeming with Defenders waiting to attack. The Defenders steep hatred of Watchers seemed mandatory. As if they knew this was her first raid, her first attempt to save an innocent Watcher from their famed interrogations, as a member of Maximillions rogue force that protected Watchersthe Advocacy.

Unable to bear the darkness anymore, she glanced at her hands. Enough gauzy moonlight slanted through the windows to highlight thick, ropy veins under her translucent skin. Her back curved into a hump. In the reflection of the window, an old woman stared back through different-colored eyes. No matter what kind of transformative magic she attempted, her eyes remained distinctively off. Like Maximillionsonly his were far subtler. Indistinguishable, really. Much like his emotions. Only now, her eyes were rheumy, red-rimmed.

Terrified.

A girl in her early teens sat across from her. Bright, wide eyes peered out of a heart-shaped face. Unassuming. Naive, even, with her perky nose and bowtie lips. No one would imagine she was a powerful witch beneath layers of meticulous transformation spells. The girl caught her eye and winked. Lucey, Isadoras mentor, hid beneath the disguise.

Next to Lucey trembled a young mana boy, reallywith olive skin and pools of umber for eyes. Alessio. His fingertips tapped an uneven rhythm on his bouncing knee. Isadora swallowed her questions for Alessio. How did it feel when you transitioned? Is anyone else in your family a Watcher? The strange Watcher magic operated on unknown rules. Not even Maximillions intensive study had formed conclusions on how one became a Watcher, or where the magic originated.

Was Alessio silently saying goodbye to the Eastern Network and the only home hed ever known? Lucey had said he was a musician once destined to work with the Eastern Network High Priest in Magnolia Castleand that he was now headhunted by his own witches. The Defenders in the East were ruthless. Not a week ago, theyd captured a new Watcher, violently interrogated her in front of her family, then burned their house, and abducted her. Before Lucey could get to the seventeen-year-old girl, the Defenders had whisked her into Carcere, an ill-reputed prison from which there was no escape.

Isadora turned the thoughts away.

Your focus on the mission must be meticulous, Maximillion had said with a hint of irritation in his voice. Never waver. They wont.

She studied the unchanging landscape again.

Rolling hills, separated by stone hedges and copses of trees, passed by. Humidity lay thick in the air. Two days farther east and they would have seen the ocean. Isadora tried to picture the expanse of water in her head until an unusual flash in the distance caught her eye.

Lucey tensed.

For Isadora to ask about the strange light while maintaining their deception, she would need to use Ilese , the Eastern Network language. While the last six months of dedicated study since she joined the Advocacy made her speech passable, it was a halting mess. Her tongue wasnt used to the languages gentle nuance and soft edge, so she hesitated. Was it worth breaking the silence?

Luceys young face furrowed. Her brow creased. Isadora lifted an eyebrow in silent question, but Lucey shook her head and leaned back again.

Not yet, she mouthed.

Magic hummed bright in Isadoras chest. She let it hum through her body. The momentary reprieve of energy granted her a bit of courage. Lucey gave no indication she noticed. Eventually, Isadora calmed.

Alessios tense shoulders remained taut. Isadora tucked the magic away again. It flared, as if impatient, then settled. Minutes passed. Alessio closed his eyes while he muttered under his breath, hands clenched.

Embrace the uncertainty of whether youll live or die, Maximillion had said. Youll pay more attention.