Book One of The Shattered Crown Saga

Before the Ember Sparks

James J. Genovese

In Rawkin, power never has to raise its voice. Below it, people are running out of room.

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A marble ministry colonnade at night, rain on the steps, one gas lamp lit.

Ministry Row does not govern.

It watches.

Rawkin is the duke's city, and its City Watch is his. Magicians are confined to the Enclaves by decree. The nobles feast in the keep, and nobody below is invited.

"That's the way it was, and the way it always would be."

Posted in the Merchant's Quarter

A noblewoman has vanished.

Elnora Esterbrook is missing, and her family's search has become the pretext for a crackdown on the city's magicians.

The crackdown pulls four very different people toward the same mystery from opposite ends of a rigidly stratified city: a thief, a bounty hunter, an underworld operator, and a young orb-mage with every reason to keep his head down.

Each of them has a different reason to want it solved.

A sealed letter with a red wax crest beside a lit taper candle.
The Merchant's Quarter keeps its business under seal.

Persons of interest.

The Watch keeps files on everyone below the keep. These are five of them.

Padraig, seen from behind, crouched on a wet rooftop in a ragged leather vest with a rope belt and a bone-handled dagger, looking down at the lit windows of a merchant street.

Padraig

Quarter
Rubbish Square
Trade
Thief. Rooftops and pockets.
Carries
Lockpicks, four throwing knives, a bone-handled dagger
"I never get the invite. Sure as hell never get the food."
Julie, seen from behind with long black hair down her back, a dark shawl over a red gown, her hand on the doorframe of The Secret on a rain-slicked side street.

Julie

Quarter
Rubbish Square
Trade
Works at The Secret. Padraig's childhood friend.
Carries
Whatever she overhears
"Bloody hell, Padraig. You gave me a scare."
Bachman, seen from behind at a tavern bar in a long black duster with a sword at his hip, his tan wide-brimmed hat resting on a small red satchel beside a lantern.

Bachman

Quarter
The roads outside the walls
Trade
Bounty hunter. Looking for the missing noblewoman.
Carries
A sword, a small red satchel, a reward notice
"It's been better, kid. It's been worse."
Weldon in a lit doorway, his face lost under a scuffler cap, in a heavy patched dustcoat with a short axe in hand and a round shield on his back.

Weldon

Quarter
Wherever the Watch is not
Trade
Retired mercenary. Keeps a safe house.
Carries
A short axe, a round shield, a scuffler hat
"I ain't no knight, but I'm still yer better. Mind yerself out there."
Corwin, hooded in a deep-blue travel cloak with a leather casterbag at his hip, holding a small glass orb that shimmers with color in a dark street.

Corwin

Quarter
The Enclaves
Trade
Orb-mage of the Orb Guild
Carries
A casterbag, illusion orbs, travel papers
"I believe you would be quite surprised to witness some of my . . . little tricks."

Also on file: Joss Brevin, who runs Padraig's crew. Sissleman, who keeps the bar at The Tipped Glass.

Everyone in Rawkin works for someone.

A wide merchant avenue at night, bright gas lamps on wet cobbles.
A narrow slum lane at night, sagging tenements and a single guttering lantern.

Up the hill, the lamps burn all night.

Down here, one lantern has to do.

"Behind the merchants, craftsman, traders, investors, holders, shipbuilders, and nobility, there were those who made their living below."
A poor cobbled square in the rain, embers rising from a brazier that has just caught, windows glowing in answer.

Rubbish Square. The poorest quarter in the duke's city, and the one with the least left to lose.

Rebellions don't start with armies.

They begin with ideas, and the people willing to fight and die for them.

The Tipped Glass after hours: a white apron over a stool, bottles on the shelves, a low fire.

★★★★★

"The story builds steadily toward moments that make you want to stand up and cheer, especially as you begin rooting hard for the have-nots to rise up."
Phil V., reader review on Amazon
Read the first page

Chapter One

Padraig woke up about an hour after sundown. His room was dark as night, with the spray of outside's fading light barred from entering the windowless space. He wrapped his thin blanket around him. This was one of those nights that made him wonder whether he should even roll off his cot. Cot was a generous term. It wasn't really a cot so much as a few strands of straw laid over some thin wooden planks. But it was his bed, and he appreciated it.

While the sun may have been setting on the city, it was time to go to work for people like him. Folks who made their living wandering rooftops and sewers just to scratch enough coin and food together to get by, hoping one day to land a big enough score to move up in this world. As always, Padraig considered his surroundings. Time to move. Get up, get dressed. He was lucky. He was out of the cold and rain. He had earned it, though. Worked hard. Earned his keep.

The rest of the night is on Kindle. Read on Kindle

For readers of The Lies of Locke Lamora and The Night Circus, and anyone who watched Peaky Blinders for the politics.

The cover of Before the Ember Sparks by James J. Genovese.

Pull up a stool.

Book One of The Shattered Crown Saga is out now in three editions.

All three editions are sold on Amazon. Already finished it? A review there helps more than you'd think.

Book Two of The Shattered Crown Saga

Beneath the Blaze

Being written.