A Clasp for Heirs Read online

  A CLASP FOR HEIRS

  (A THRONE FOR SISTERS – BOOK 8)

  MORGAN RICE

  Morgan Rice

  Morgan Rice is the #1 bestselling and USA Today bestselling author of the epic fantasy series THE SORCERER’S RING, comprising seventeen books; of the #1 bestselling series THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS, comprising twelve books; of the #1 bestselling series THE SURVIVAL TRILOGY, a post-apocalyptic thriller comprising three books; of the epic fantasy series KINGS AND SORCERERS, comprising six books; of the epic fantasy series OF CROWNS AND GLORY, comprising eight books; of the epic fantasy series A THRONE FOR SISTERS, comprising eight books (and counting); of the new science fiction series THE INVASION CHRONICLES, comprising four books; and of the new fantasy series OLIVER BLUE AND THE SCHOOL FOR SEERS, comprising three books (and counting). Morgan’s books are available in audio and print editions, and translations are available in over 25 languages.

  TURNED (Book #1 in the Vampire Journals) ARENA ONE (Book #1 of the Survival Trilogy) and A QUEST OF HEROES (Book #1 in the Sorcerer’s Ring), RISE OF THE DRAGONS (Kings and Sorcerers—Book #1), A THRONE FOR SISTERS (Book #1), and TRANSMISSION (The Invasion Chronicles—Book #1) are each available as a free download on Kobo!

  Morgan loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.morganricebooks.com to join the email list, receive a free book, receive free giveaways, download the free app, get the latest exclusive news, connect on Facebook and Twitter, and stay in touch!

  Select Acclaim for Morgan Rice

  “If you thought that there was no reason left for living after the end of THE SORCERER’S RING series, you were wrong. In RISE OF THE DRAGONS Morgan Rice has come up with what promises to be another brilliant series, immersing us in a fantasy of trolls and dragons, of valor, honor, courage, magic and faith in your destiny. Morgan has managed again to produce a strong set of characters that make us cheer for them on every page.…Recommended for the permanent library of all readers that love a well-written fantasy.”

  --Books and Movie Reviews

  Roberto Mattos

  “An action packed fantasy sure to please fans of Morgan Rice’s previous novels, along with fans of works such as THE INHERITANCE CYCLE by Christopher Paolini…. Fans of Young Adult Fiction will devour this latest work by Rice and beg for more.”

  --The Wanderer, A Literary Journal (regarding Rise of the Dragons)

  “A spirited fantasy that weaves elements of mystery and intrigue into its story line. A Quest of Heroes is all about the making of courage and about realizing a life purpose that leads to growth, maturity, and excellence….For those seeking meaty fantasy adventures, the protagonists, devices, and action provide a vigorous set of encounters that focus well on Thor's evolution from a dreamy child to a young adult facing impossible odds for survival….Only the beginning of what promises to be an epic young adult series.”

  --Midwest Book Review (D. Donovan, eBook Reviewer)

  “THE SORCERER’S RING has all the ingredients for an instant success: plots, counterplots, mystery, valiant knights, and blossoming relationships replete with broken hearts, deception and betrayal. It will keep you entertained for hours, and will satisfy all ages. Recommended for the permanent library of all fantasy readers.”

  --Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos

  “In this action-packed first book in the epic fantasy Sorcerer's Ring series (which is currently 14 books strong), Rice introduces readers to 14-year-old Thorgrin "Thor" McLeod, whose dream is to join the Silver Legion, the elite knights who serve the king…. Rice's writing is solid and the premise intriguing.”

  --Publishers Weekly

  Books by Morgan Rice

  OLIVER BLUE AND THE SCHOOL FOR SEERS

  THE MAGIC FACTORY (Book #1)

  THE ORB OF KANDRA (Book #2)

  THE OBSIDIANS (Book #3)

  THE INVASION CHRONICLES

  TRANSMISSION (Book #1)

  ARRIVAL (Book #2)

  ASCENT (Book #3)

  RETURN (Book #4)

  THE WAY OF STEEL

  ONLY THE WORTHY (Book #1)

  A THRONE FOR SISTERS

  A THRONE FOR SISTERS (Book #1)

  A COURT FOR THIEVES (Book #2)

  A SONG FOR ORPHANS (Book #3)

  A DIRGE FOR PRINCES (Book #4)

  A JEWEL FOR ROYALS (BOOK #5)

  A KISS FOR QUEENS (BOOK #6)

  A CROWN FOR ASSASSINS (Book #7)

  A CLASP FOR HEIRS (Book #8)

  OF CROWNS AND GLORY

  SLAVE, WARRIOR, QUEEN (Book #1)

  ROGUE, PRISONER, PRINCESS (Book #2)

  KNIGHT, HEIR, PRINCE (Book #3)

  REBEL, PAWN, KING (Book #4)

  SOLDIER, BROTHER, SORCERER (Book #5)

  HERO, TRAITOR, DAUGHTER (Book #6)

  RULER, RIVAL, EXILE (Book #7)

  VICTOR, VANQUISHED, SON (Book #8)

  KINGS AND SORCERERS

  RISE OF THE DRAGONS (Book #1)

  RISE OF THE VALIANT (Book #2)

  THE WEIGHT OF HONOR (Book #3)

  A FORGE OF VALOR (Book #4)

  A REALM OF SHADOWS (Book #5)

  NIGHT OF THE BOLD (Book #6)

  THE SORCERER’S RING

  A QUEST OF HEROES (Book #1)

  A MARCH OF KINGS (Book #2)

  A FATE OF DRAGONS (Book #3)

  A CRY OF HONOR (Book #4)

  A VOW OF GLORY (Book #5)

  A CHARGE OF VALOR (Book #6)

  A RITE OF SWORDS (Book #7)

  A GRANT OF ARMS (Book #8)

  A SKY OF SPELLS (Book #9)

  A SEA OF SHIELDS (Book #10)

  A REIGN OF STEEL (Book #11)

  A LAND OF FIRE (Book #12)

  A RULE OF QUEENS (Book #13)

  AN OATH OF BROTHERS (Book #14)

  A DREAM OF MORTALS (Book #15)

  A JOUST OF KNIGHTS (Book #16)

  THE GIFT OF BATTLE (Book #17)

  THE SURVIVAL TRILOGY

  ARENA ONE: SLAVERSUNNERS (Book #1)

  ARENA TWO (Book #2)

  ARENA THREE (Book #3)

  VAMPIRE, FALLEN

  BEFORE DAWN (Book #1)

  THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS

  TURNED (Book #1)

  LOVED (Book #2)

  BETRAYED (Book #3)

  DESTINED (Book #4)

  DESIRED (Book #5)

  BETROTHED (Book #6)

  VOWED (Book #7)

  FOUND (Book #8)

  RESURRECTED (Book #9)

  CRAVED (Book #10)

  FATED (Book #11)

  OBSESSED (Book #12)

  Did you know that I've written multiple series? If you haven't read all my series, click the image below to download a series starter!

  Want free books?

  Subscribe to Morgan Rice's email list and receive 4 free books, 3 free maps, 1 free app, 1 free game, 1 free graphic novel, and exclusive giveaways! To subscribe, visit: www.morganricebooks.com

  Copyright © 2018 by Morgan Rice. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemb
lance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Master of Crows looked around Ashton and smiled at the way it was starting to live up to its name. Clouds of smoke rose over it from those sections that his men were clearing with fire, from the foundries that were even now churning out more weapons, from the fires that fed his men, burned brands into captives, and heated irons for the torment of those who tried to stand against them.

  “Come to me,” he said, holding out an arm. “Show me.”

  Crows descended from the sky, landing on the outstretched cloth of his great coat, their claws digging into the flesh beneath and their croaking voices filling the air around him. As each landed, it brought with it the sights and sounds and smells of a city in ruins, and each image only made the Master of Crows’ smile broaden into a sharp edged rictus.

  The first crow showed him the ruins of the outer city, where starving children ran from older starving children, knives and clubs in their grubby fists now. The buildings there were rubble, splintered wood and scattered stone lying in piles that his crows picked through in search of the bodies beneath. The Master of Crows felt the moments when they found them and fed, trickles of lost life flowing into him.

  More power came from the gibbets and the breaking wheels, the tying posts and the cages. A whole battalion of his troops worked at them, forcing criminals inside, and just about everyone in Ashton was a criminal under the New Army’s laws. There was the crack of muskets as soldiers practiced their rifle work on the condemned, and always, always, the tumble of crows onto those who fell.

  Even more came from the places where the remaining people of the city worked in drudgery, forced to carry and forge, dig and build. There was no time for breaks, and little for sleep. Those who fell were beaten until they rose, and those who did not rise became food for his pets.

  “More,” he said, because the hunger was always there. The crows demanded more, and he had to feed them. His words echoed out through the city, through the throats of a thousand birds. “Feed us more.”

  He didn’t just need it for the hunger. His mind flicked out, seeking out crow after crow, spreading out beyond the city, letting him see the rest of the country. He saw fields and towns, the progress of his armies and the spots where the people of the kingdom sought to build their own.

  “Should I crush you now, or later?” he wondered. Now would put down any rebellion easily. Later though, when they’d built up more followers… the rush of death would be so much greater then. The power would be so much better.

  Another crow showed him the reason that he needed that power. Stonehome sat below, safe within the long wall that surrounded it, the tall stones set at intervals serving as anchors for the shield that those within could call up. The Master of Crows could see more people down there than should have ever fit into such a space: at least half or more of those who had fled Ashton, and the king, Sebastian, and…

  Even from up here, the bright glow of the child was impossible to ignore. Sophia Danse’s daughter shone with the kind of power that might eclipse the sun, and that might even be enough to sate the crows. With that kind of power, a man might find himself immortal without the need for more killing, without the spread of black wings further.

  Or he might have enough power to take everything.

  He brought himself back to his own body, and turned to the aides who waited just a little way away. Several of his captains stood with them, looking as nervous as all his followers learned to be over time.

  “What progress has there been?” he demanded, hearing the croak and rasp of his own voice. It was always worse when he’d spent a lot of time in the minds of his birds. He pointed at one of the captains at random, guessing that otherwise, they would spend their time arguing over who got to be first, or last.

  “My men continue to hunt down stragglers,” the man said. “People continue to live in the city’s crawl spaces and slums like rats, but-”

  “Next,” the Master of Crows said, cutting him off.

  “Our control over the surrounding countryside is almost complete,” another of the captains said. “The new laws have been implemented, and we have started to-”

  “Next,” the Master of Crows said.

  “There is a nobleman who has announced himself as king, and-”

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” he demanded, irritation rising in him. “We will deal with all of this, but it is not relevant.”

  “Forgive us, my lord,” one of his aides said, “but what is it that you want to hear from us?”

  “I want to hear about progress in attacking Stonehome. I want to hear that you have found a solution to that damnable shield that they have put up.”

  “We have sent engineers to try to undermine their walls,” the aide said.

  The Master of Crows looked over to the man. “And?”

  “And they were slaughtered by forays from the people there. There was mist, and…”

  “And when it lifted, they were dead. Yes, yes,” the Master of Crows said in irritation. “What else?”

  “Cannon do not work against the shield,” one of his captains said. “Nor does any kind of physical assault.”

  “Do not tell me what does not work,” the Master of Crows said. “I know that my army cannot break through.”

  “We are searching for anyone who might have a solution,” an aide said. “But they have been reluctant to come forward, even with promises of wealth.”

  Of course they were. Anyone who had that kind of knowledge would undoubtedly have a spark of magical talent as well, and someone like that would be anything but likely to help the New Army now. They would be too afraid of what would happen to them afterwards.

  “Go through every record,” the Master of Crows said. “I want works of magic sought out. I want every man who can read, every aide, every captain who is not actively fighting going through the libraries of the city. Put out a reward. Any man or woman who brings information relating to the shield surrounding Stonehome will be spared, will be given gold and a place in my army, even if they have magic of their own, even if they are priests of the Masked Goddess, or nobles, or anything else. Find me a solution, and I will forgive anything. I must have that child!”

  He set off back into Ashton’s palace, which had become as twisted and changed as the rest of the city. He didn’t care about any of the holes that had been blasted in the walls in the course of the battle, or about the offices and billets that had taken over what had once been noble bedrooms. Screams came from one of the rooms as his interrogators worked on a servant to find out w
hat they knew about the city. The Master of Crows shrugged and moved on.

  He briefly paused as he passed in front of a gilded mirror, the sight of his reflection arresting his attention for a moment. The tall frame, wreathed in a dark coat and covered in crows was the same as ever, but what caught his attention was the small red mark that stood out brightly against the pallor of his skin.

  Moving closer, it was still possible to make out the shape of a child’s handprint, as red now as it had been in the seconds after the young Princess Violet had touched him there. The burn didn’t hurt now unless he touched it, but it was a reminder that she had the power to hurt him, and that could not be ignored.

  “My lord, my lord!” a servant called running out into the Master of Crows’ path. Briefly, he considered killing the man for the interruption, but such a paltry extra hint of power would not make up for all that had slipped through his grasp.

  “What is it?” the Master of Crows demanded.

  “My lord, there is a man to see you. He says that it is urgent.”

  Again, the Master of Crows fought back the urge to lash out.

  “I… think you might want to see him, my lord,” the man said.

  The Master of Crows drew himself up, and stared at the man with lifeless eyes. “Very well. Lead the way. And if I do not find this very interesting, you will find yourself in a crow cage.”

  He saw the man swallow. “Yes, my lord.”

  The servant led the way down to the palace’s ballroom, which had become a throne room for his occupation. The mirrors there were largely broken now, reflecting shattered fragments of the people there. Most of them stood back, flanked by guards of the New Army. One stood further forward, shaven headed, dressed in dark clothes, his mind closed off with the kind of shielding that hinted at power.

  “You have taken a grave risk, coming here,” the Master of Crows said. “You should speak quickly, whoever you are.”