The following is an excerpt fromBlood Heir, the debut YA novel by authorAmelie Wen Zhao.
After rereading the book, Zhao reversed course, deciding to move ahead with some revisions in April.
I researched extensively on that subject and on indentured labor throughout the world, and specifically from my heritage.
Credit: Random House Children’s Books
The novel publishes Nov. 19, and isavailable for pre-order.
Had she not expected that?
No, Ana thought suddenly, touching a finger to her wound.
Charlotte Yuyin Li
The drops of blood seemed to pulse at her fingertips.
No, she was not just a naive princess.
Princesses did not have the power to control blood.
Princesses did not murder innocent people in broad daylight in the middle of a town square.
Princesses were not monsters.
Reaching into that twisted place within her, Ana stretched her Affinity.
It was like lighting a candle.
All hers to command.
She focused her Affinity on his blood and pulled.
Ana drew a deep breath and realized that she wassmiling.
Little monster, a voice whispered in her mindonly, this time, it was her own.
Perhaps Sadov had been right after all.
A shout rang out in the hallway, followed by a thud, then sounds of scuffling.
And then slowly, from the darkness, a foot emerged.
And then a filthy torso.
Outside her cell, Quicktongue writhed on the ground.
Stop, he panted.
A red blotch appeared on his sweat-stained tunic, soaking through the fabric and filth.
Her voice was a low snarl.
She heard the words as though someone else were speaking through her lips.
He was panting, his pupils dilated, his face pale.
Ana tamped down any guilt or pity she might have felt.
It washerturn to command.Herturn to control.
Now kick off the door.
The con man roused himself in starts and stops, shaking visibly.
A sheen of sweat coated his face.
He fumbled with the lock, and the cell door squeaked open.
Ana stepped out of the cell and turned to him.
Blots of red were spreading on his shirt where vessels in his skin had broken.
Ana turned away before she could feel revulsion at what she had done.
Her hand automatically darted to her hood, pulling it back over her head to hide her eyes.
Her hands and forearms felt heavy, streaked with jagged veins engorged with blood.
The hairs on her neck rose when she realized that the prison had gone completely silent.
The moans and whispers of the other prisoners had quieted, like the calm before a storm.
And then, several corridors down, a loud clang sounded.
Her heart started a drumroll in her chest.
We need to get out of here.
Deities, cursed Quicktongue.
The question came out of nowhere; she could think of a thousand ways to answer.
Unbidden, memories flipped through her mind like the pages of a dusty book.
A white-marble castle in a wintry landscape.
A hearth, a flickering fire, and Papas deep, steady voice.
Her brother, golden-haired and emerald- eyed, his laugh as radiant as the sun.
Before she could respond, Quicktongue leapt.
Guards, he whispered.
Ana rammed her knee between his legs.
Quicktongue doubled over, but past his furious whisper-curses, she heard the sound of footsteps.
Boots thudded down the dungeon hallway, the rhythmic beat of several guards steps.
She could make out the dim light of a far-off torch, growing brighter.
Voices echoed in the corridor and, judging by the sound of laughter, the guards were cracking jokes.
Ana loosed a breath.
They hadnt been discovered.
These guards were only making their rounds.
Quicktongue straightened and leaned into her as he pressed himself against the pillar.
Yet the glare in his eyes reminded her that they were anything but.
She tried not to breathe as the guards passed by the pillar.
A sudden realization hit her.
They had left him unconscious in Quicktongues cell.
By her side, Quicktongue tensed as well, as though hed reached the same conclusion.
He hissed a curse.
A panicked shout rang out, followed by the ominous squeak of the cell door.
Ana squeezed her eyes shut, dread blooming cold in her chest.
They had discovered the unconscious guard.
Quicktongues voice was low and urgent.
So Im asking you to trust me for now.
Once were out of this damned place, we can go back to tearing each others throats out.
She hated himhated the fact that he had fooled her, and the fact that he was right.
Fine, she breathed.
But if you even think of using any tricks, just remember what I can do to you.
What Iwilldo to you.
Quicktongue was scanning the corridor ahead, his head cocked as he listened.
Beyond their pillar, one of the guards stepped into the cell and desperately shook his fallen comrade.
The other two foraged farther into the depths of the dungeons with their swords drawn, torches held high.
Quicktongues beard tickled her ear.
When I say run .
The torchlight grew dimmer.
Ana dashed from the pillar.
She didnt think shed ever run this fast before.
Cells flew by on either side of her in dark streaks of color.
She dared a glance back to find Quicktongue tearing toward her.
The light was bright ahead of her, the stone ground hard beneath her pounding feet.
She emerged into bright, unyielding daylight.
Immediately, her eyes began to water.
Everything was whitefrom the marble floors to the high walls to the arched ceilings.
Sunlight streamed through the narrow, high windows above their heads, magnified by the marble.
This, Ana had read, was part of the prisons design.
A loud clang sounded behind her.
Through her tears, she saw Quicktongue twisting the key to lock the dungeon doors in place.
Beyond this hall, somewhere that Ana could not locate, shouts echoed.
The alarm had been raised.
Ana looked at Quicktongue.
Fear sharpened her wits, and the world shifted into focus as the smarting in her eyes faded.
Her head pounded with the effects of the Deysvoshk; she couldnt even remember which way shed come in.
This place was a maze, designed to trap prisoners and visitors like quarry on a spiders web.
Ana seized Quicktongues shirt.
He peered out from a slit between his fingers and groaned.
The back exit, he mumbled.
She drew a breath.
Shed taken it all in quietly as shed followed the guard insideback then as a visitor.
Fury spiked in her; she grasped Quicktongue by his filth- stained tunic and shook him.
You got us into this mess, she snarled.
Now you get us out.
Which way to the back exit?
second door to our right.
Ana hauled him into a run after her.
Boots pounded along one of the corridorsshe couldnt tell which.
At any moment, the reinforcements would be there.
They were halfway down the hallway when a shout rang out behind them.
Stop in the name of the Kolst Imperator Mikhailov!
The Glorious Emperor Mikhailov.They flung Lukas name around so casually, so authoritatively.
As though they knew anything about her brother.
As though they had the right to command by his name.
Ana turned to face the prison guards.
They had come fully equipped, with helmets, too; their attire glittered with the telltale gray-hued alloy.
They snarled at her, spreading out like hunters surrounding an untamed beast.
That was long past now.
Anas fingers curled over her hood, pulling it closer.
She raised her other hand, wounded and gloveless, at the guards.
Blood trickled down her arm in a lovers spiral, vivid crimson against the dusky olive of her skin.
Nausea stirred in the pit of her stomach, and her throat ached with revulsion.
Fighting this many people at once could easily mean losing control of her Affinity entirely.
It had happened beforenearly ten years earlierand it made her sick to think of it.
An archer knelt into position, the tips of his arrows glistening with Deysvoshk.
Cover me, she said to Quicktongue, and her Affinity roared to life.
Show them what you are, my little monster.
She let her Affinity free and it coursed through her, singing and screaming and writhing in her veins.
She held those bonds and gave a sharp, violent pull Flesh tore.
Blood filled the air.
The physical world rushed back in a torrent of white marble floors and cold sunlight.
Somehow she was on all fours, her limbs trembling as she struggled to breathe.
In less than ten minutes, the onset would be complete; her Affinity would be gone.
She leaned forward, her back arching to a fit of coughs.
Crimson spattered the white marble floors.
A hand closed on her shoulder.
Quicktongue crouched by her side, his mouth hanging open as he surveyed the scene.
The corridor was eerily empty.
Beyond the stairwell, scattered throughout the hallway, were five crumpled shapes.
The touch of the deimhov.
Incredible, Quicktongue murmured, looking at her with a mixture of awe and delight.
She ignored the insult and slumped over the polished marble floor, panting.
The use of her Affinity had drained her energy, as it always did.
Stay here, Quicktongue ordered.
Then he was gone.
Ana pushed herself onto her knees.
She was suddenly too conscious of the bodies around her, cold and still in their deaths.
Their blood hung in her awareness, roaring rivers turned to pools of dead water, eerily silent.
Look what youve done.
Ana curled forward, wrapping her arms around herself to stop her shaking.I didnt mean to.
I didnt ask for this Affinity.
I never meant to hurt anyone.
Perhaps monsters never meant to hurt others, either.
Perhaps monsters didnt even know they were monsters.
She counted down from ten to give herself time to stop crying and get off the floor.
The blood smeared beneath her palms as she stood.
Quicktongue stood before the second corridor to her right, a cord of rope slung over his shoulder.
He waved at her and turned down the hallway, disappearing from sight.
How long had he stood there, watching her break down?
She stared after him, unease filtering through the tide of her exhaustion.
His voice drifted back, echoing slightly.
It took every ounce of her willpower to straighten her spine and hobble after him.
Excerpt copyright 2019 by Amelie Wen Zhao.
Cover art 2019 by Ruben Ireland.
