A woman who wields magical tarot cards lands herself in a false engagement with the headmaster of a mysterious academy in this first installment of an enthralling romantasy series from the bestselling author of Clara Graysword has survived the underworld of Eclipse City through thievery, luck, and a whole lot of illegal magic. After a job gone awry, Clara is sentenced to a lifetime in prison for inking tarot cards--a rare power reserved for practitioners at the elite Arcana Academy. Just when it seems her luck has run dry, the academy’s enigmatic headmaster, Prince Kaelis, offers her an escape--for a price. Kaelis believes that Clara is the perfect tool to help him steal a tarot card from the king and use it to re-create an all-powerful card long lost to time. In order to conceal her identity and keep her close, Kaelis brings Clara to Arcana Academy, introducing her as the newest first-year student and his bride-to-be. Thrust into a world of arcane magic and royal intrigue, where one misstep will send her back to prison or worse, Clara finds that the prince she swore to hate may not be what he seems. But can she risk giving him power over the world--and her heart? Or will she take it for herself? Book One of The Arcana Academy Series

Autorentext

Elise Kova

Klappentext

****“Magical from nail-biting beginning to shocking end!”—Danielle L. Jensen, #1 New York Times bestselling author of *A Fate Inked in Blood

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A woman who wields magical tarot cards lands herself in a false engagement with the headmaster of a mysterious academy in this first installment of an enthralling fantasy romance series from the bestselling author of A Deal with the Elf King.

The dazzling first edition hardcover of Arcana Academy will feature gold foil page edges, designed endpapers, two interior black-and-white maps, a custom-stamped case, and a premium dust jacket with foil—while supplies last!

Clara Graysword has survived the underworld of Eclipse City through thievery, luck, and a whole lot of illegal magic. After a job gone awry, Clara is sentenced to a lifetime in prison for inking tarot cards—a rare power reserved for practitioners at the elite Arcana Academy.

Just when it seems her luck has run dry, the academy’s enigmatic headmaster, Prince Kaelis, offers her an escape—for a price. Kaelis believes that Clara is the perfect tool to help him steal a tarot card from the king and use it to re-create an all-powerful card long lost to time.

In order to conceal her identity and keep her close, Kaelis brings Clara to Arcana Academy, introducing her as the newest first-year student and his bride-to-be.

Thrust into a world of arcane magic and royal intrigue, where one misstep will send her back to prison or worse, Clara finds that the prince she swore to hate may not be what he seems. But can she risk giving him power over the world—and her heart? Or will she take it for herself?

Book One of The Arcana Academy Series

Leseprobe
Chapter 1

Break or die. It’s one or the other in Halazar Prison. I refuse to do either.

Two guards approach my cell. The man in front is carrying an annoyingly efficient lantern. After nearly a year of not seeing the sun, I’m blinded by mere lamplight.

It’s too soon for them to be coming for me again. I expect them to pass, but they stop at my door. I don’t recognize either guard, but Warden Glavstone is always rotating them out—anyone who sticks around for too long might learn too much.

“Clara Graysword?” Graysword: the name given to all orphaned and unwanted children in Eclipse City. The name I gave when I was captured. The name that told the world I had no family to take down with me.

I lift my chin in answer.

“You’re requested for an audience.” The man raises his lantern higher as if trying to get a better look at me through the bars. Unfortunate for him, as I’ve been left to rot, and my visage reflects it.

“Sounds formal.” My voice cracks, my throat drier than yew ash. “With whom?” The guards don’t answer and instead slip a key into the heavy padlock on my door.

Usually, that lock is undone once per week, and they already came for me three days ago. I’m let out only to be taken to a hidden and cramped closet in Warden Glavstone’s office, where I ink tarot cards for him in exchange for what little comforts can be found in this tomb. But I would’ve done the work even without bartering. It has kept my mind sharp and hands skilled for when I get out of here.

Because, whether by my own skill or from my family coming for me, I am getting out. I refuse to die here.

The men step aside, and I slip into the space between them. Once my eyes adjust to the lamplight, I can see the place of my captivity with more clarity than ever before—more than I’d like, frankly.

By the Twenty Major Arcana, Halazar truly is horrendous.

The walls are thick with grime and blood and other substances I have willed myself not to think about. I can only imagine the stink that clouds the air—my nose has been so overwhelmed for so long that I can’t smell anything anymore.

My fellow prisoners hiss at us, then shrink away from the harsh glow of the lantern and back into the safety of their shadows. Reduced to animals, their clothes in tatters like mine, they crawl over the filth on hands and knees.

The minds and bodies of the incarcerated wither away in the darkness. This is the bleakest prison in the entirety of the Oricalis Kingdom, the place where the worst of the worst go. Murderers, rapists, abusers of innocents, and those like me . . . who would dare to use the arcana without being under the crown’s control.

I’m escorted down a passage I’m not familiar with and up a narrow flight of stairs. The guard behind me rests his hand on the pommel of his sword but doesn’t bother unsheathing it. There’s no need for overt threats. Where could you go? is the unasked question.

From a slit in the wall at the top of the stairs, a gust of icy wind batters my face. Through it I stare out at the churning river. It’s dusk, or perhaps dawn; it’s hard to tell, overcast as it is. Either way I can’t help but squint. All I see are mountains; we’re facing west, away from the city.

I inhale air so crisp that it burns my lungs. I’ve been reduced to a creature of squalor who doesn’t even know how to breathe clean air.

“Keep it moving.” The guard at my back shoves me. I stumble and grip the wall, snapping one of my brittle nails down to the bed. But my body has already suffered so many other abuses that the pain hardly registers.

We halt before an unfamiliar door. On it is carved a single sword emerging from a field of clouds. A crown caps its tip, and rose vines trellis down and around the blade.

The iconography is unmistakable—the Ace of Swords. First of the suit. Symbol of the royal family of Oricalis. Standing on either side of the door are two knights in silvered plate. Not city enforcers, or prison guards, but royal knights. Stellis, they’re called. An elite organization of the best of the best fighters in the kingdom, sworn to protect the crown and uphold its laws. The only thing that’s said to outmatch their skill and strength is their brutality. Dove-white and raven-black plumes extend from behind decorative fans of tiny swords carved into their helmets over their ears.

For a moment, I’m no longer in Halazar but back to my last hours in Eclipse City, when Stellis adorned in identical plate held me down before a judge from Clan Hanged Man. I remember the cold floor against my cheek. It …