Steel Maiden

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Authors: Kim Richardson

Tags: #romance, #coming of age, #young adult, #epic, #witches, #action and adventure, #strong girls, #fantasy and magic, #kings princes knights

BOOK: Steel Maiden
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Steel Maiden, Divided Realms Book 1:

Copyright © 2015 by Kim Richardson

Edited by Grenfell Featherstone

 

www.kimrichardsonbooks.com

 

All rights reserved by Kim Richardson. 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 written permission of the author. The
characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not
intended by the author. Thank you for respecting the author’s
work.

 

First edition: August 2015

 

Acknowledgments

 

 

For those who dare to dream

 

Map

CONTENTS

MAP

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER
35

CHAPTER
36

AUTHOR’S NOTE

WITCH
QUEEN COMING SOON!

MORE
BOOKS BY KIM RICHARDSON

ABOUT THE
AUTHOR

 

 

CHAPTER 1

 

 

 

T
HE TEMPLE VAULT WAS completely dark.

I’d been crouched inside a cabinet with my
chin resting awkwardly on my knees for about six hours, and now the
muscles in my body screamed and burned. Acid from hunger worked
away in my empty stomach, and the air was hot and stale. A cold
sweat trickled down my back, but I kept my breathing low and
steady, held my position, and waited.

I could hear muffled male voices and the
shuffling of feet.

Pricks
.

If the temple guards discovered me now, they
would slit my throat before I could even begin to explain why I was
here, hidden in a cupboard in the vault. The truth is there was
only one reason why someone would sneak into the temple vault at
night—to steal the high priests’ treasures.

I bit my lip. This was by far the stupidest
and most dangerous stunt I’d ever pulled. But hunger and
desperation had brought me farther into Soul City than I’d ever
ventured before. And now I’d been foolish enough to seek my quarry
inside the vault. I knew the risks.

We’d finished the last of the cabbage soup
two days ago, and Byron hadn’t any bread to spare this week. I’d
sworn last night that I wouldn’t spend another night with a hungry
belly.

A cramp bit into my leg, but I ignored it.
Hiding in cubbyholes for long hours wasn’t new to me. I was used to
small spaces. Thank the creator I wasn’t claustrophobic. My heart
thumped loudly in my ears as my hunger was replaced by my
anger.

The high priests were the reason we were all
starving. There were enough precious stones and jewels in the vault
to feed the families in the Pit for generations, and yet we were
all starving to death. It was clear that the priests wanted to keep
us hungry. We were easier to control.

Bastards
.

I remember the stories I had heard when I
was a child. Three hundred years ago, after the Great War of the
Realms, the Temple of the Sun priests had arrived. No one had known
for sure where they came from, but the legends told that the kings
and queens of the six kingdoms of Arcania had stepped down, one by
one, and relinquished their rule to the high priests. Some legends
spoke of a dark spell that had been cast on the kings and queens
since they had so willingly given their titles and their kingdoms
to the priests. But no one knew for sure.

Not everyone was subject to the priests’
will, however, and a great rebellion against them had arisen two
hundred years ago. Unfortunately attempts to remove the high
priests had been in vain. Most of the men and women from the
kingdom of Anglia who had joined the rebellion had been slaughtered
like cattle by the temple guards.

But the priests did keep some of the rebels
alive. As punishment, and to remind those who might dare to oppose
them again that their efforts would be futile, the priests created
the Pit. They confined the rebels to the district of Anglia where
the rebellion had started. Now ten thousand prisoners were cramped
into a muddy, filthy shantytown where they were forced to live out
their lives as trash. They would never forget that their ancestors
had tried to rebel.

There was a saying amongst our kind.
If
you’re born in the Pit, you die in the Pit.

But I wouldn’t die here.
I
was going
to get out.

I couldn’t let my anger cloud my mind. I had
a job to do, and I needed to focus. It was risky, but this was
finally my chance to get out of the Pit, and I had to take it. I
wouldn’t mess it up. I couldn’t.

After a few minutes of careful listening, I
heard the screeching of hinges and then the loud thump of a heavy
door. I knew there were only two guards patrolling the vault, and I
couldn’t risk them discovering me. Although I could hold my own in
a fight, even with two grown men, I had to go unnoticed if I wanted
my plan to work. That meant no fights.

I had been blessed with a talent for
hand-to-hand combat although I had never received any real
training. My earliest memories were of throwing a set of knives
against the trunk of a tree and hitting the makeshift target every
time. I was adept with weapons, especially ones with a blade. I
never knew where my skill came from, or why I had it, it just
was
. Rose called it a gift—I called it survival
instinct.

My heart thundered as I strained for any
more sounds. Only the darkness of my cupboard whispered back. It
was now or never.

I held my breath and pressed lightly on the
door. I peered through the small crack and blinked at the sudden
brightness. A series of flaming torches illuminated the vault in
soft yellow light.

I was alone. I let out a shaky breath and
then slipped into the vault with the stealth of a cat.

My limbs ached and cracked as I stretched
and moaned quietly. I took a calming breath, grateful for the gulps
of fresh air, and looked around carefully. Bile burned my throat as
I took in the shelves that lined the walls. They were loaded with
brilliant gems and precious jewelry.

Sick. All of it. The people from the Pit
were starving while this useless chamber sat stuffed with enough
jewels to feed a nation. It was probably just a fraction of the
high priests’ wealth, and it was a wealth that had once belonged to
our kings.

One, two, three,
I counted in my
head. I only had about five minutes before the next rotation of the
temple guards would check on the vault.

I clenched my fingers as I stared at a large
necklace speckled with rubies and sapphires. I could certainly fill
my pockets with necklaces like these—they were practically
begging
for me to steal them. But that would be stupid. I
couldn’t afford to be stupid. Not now when I was so close…

Even if I did take my fill of precious
stones and pearl necklaces, I wouldn’t be able to sell them. Women
in the Pit didn’t own jewelry. Where would we wear it if we did? It
would raise questions if I tried to sell it. I’d get caught if I
were greedy.

There was only one person in the Pit who
would
and
could
buy such trinkets, and he’d already
made a deal with me. I wasn’t here for a mere necklace. I had
bigger
plans.

I crossed the chamber to the opposite wall
and stood before a tall metal cabinet. Two lions, the royal seal of
Anglia, were engraved into the metal. I couldn’t see any lock or
device that secured the doors.

A trap? Why wasn’t it locked?

It felt too easy. A treasure of incredible
valuable must have some kind of lock. Even if it were a trap, what
choice did I have? I had committed to this, and I would see it
through—for my sake and for Rose’s.

With my heart in my throat, I pulled open
the doors and stifled a gasp as a veil of green fire enveloped me
and licked every inch of my exposed skin.

I panicked and stepped back.

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