Chaos & Flame

An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, New York First published in the United States of America by Razorbill, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2023Copyright © 2023 by Tessa Gratton and Justina IrelandPenguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.Razorbill & colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.The Penguin colophon is a registered trademark of Penguin Books Limited.Visit us online at penguinrandomhouse.com.Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication DataNames: Gratton, Tessa, author. | Ireland, Justina, author.Title: Chaos & flame / Tessa Gratton, Justina Ireland.Other titles: Chaos and flameDescription: New York : Razorbill, 2023. | Audience: Ages 14 years and up. | Summary: Two unlikely allies from rival factions, Darling Seabreak and Talon Goldhoard must work together to navigate treacherous House politics and ancient magic to keep their world from falling apart.Identifiers: LCCN 2022050414 (print) | LCCN 2022050415 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593353325 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593353332 (epub)Subjects: CYAC: Fantasy. | Magic—Fiction. | Interpersonal relations—Fiction. | LCGFT: Fantasy fiction. | Novels.Classification: LCC PZ7.G77215 Ch 2023 (print) | LCC PZ7.G77215 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022050414LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022050415Printed in the United States of AmericaISBN 9780593353325 (hardcover)ISBN 9780593619599 (international edition)ISBN 9780593353332 (ebook)Cover art © 2023 by Marisa Ware | Cover design by Jessica JenkinsDesign by Tony Sahara, adapted for ebook by Michelle QuinteroThis book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.pid_prh_6.0_142879847_c0_r0 CONTENTSCoverTitle PageCopyrightChaosEnemiesChapter 1: DarlingChapter 2: TalonChapter 3: DarlingChapter 4: TalonChapter 5: DarlingChapter 6: TalonChapter 7: DarlingChapter 8: TalonChapter 9: DarlingChapter 10: TalonChapter 11: DarlingChapter 12: TalonAlliesChapter 13: DarlingChapter 14: TalonChapter 15: DarlingChapter 16: TalonChapter 17: DarlingChapter 18: TalonChapter 19: DarlingChapter 20: TalonChapter 21: DarlingFlameChapter 22: TalonChapter 23: DarlingChapter 24: TalonChapter 25: DarlingChapter 26: TalonChapter 27: DarlingChapter 28: TalonChapter 29: DarlingChapter 30: TalonAcknowledgmentsAbout the Author_142879847_ CHAOS The first time the scion of House Dragon painted the eyeless girl, he was only six years old. She was nothing but a face shaped with finger smears of brown, a darker crooked line that might’ve been a sad smile, and huge, swirling black holes where her eyes should be.“I don’t know how to save her,” he said to his mother when he presented the art to her.His mother accepted the soft parchment, doing her best to hide the horror she felt at the red-rimmed, furious eyeholes in her son’s painting. Casually, she asked, “Why is she in danger?”“I don’t know.”“What happened to her eyes?”“Nothing yet.” The little boy shrugged.Though the Dragon consort asked a few more delicate questions, he could give her no answers. But he drew the eyeless girl again and again, and told his nurse about her, and his aunt, and his father eventually. That was a mistake, because he was far too old for imaginary friends, his father growled. The consort promised her husband, the Dragon regent, it was only childish play, and their son would grow out of it.Better an imaginary friend, she thought, than the truth she suspected deep in her heart: her son had been gifted with a boon, but it was a prophetic one, and prophecy always, always drove the wielder mad.The people of Pyrlanum would never accept a regent with such a wild boon, and to shield her eldest son, the consort extracted a promise from him to stop talking about the girl, and certainly to stop painting her. He must never paint anything from a dream or vision. It was dangerous. The young scion agreed, thrilled to have such an illicit thing binding him with his mother.And he kept his promise for two entire years, until his mother was murdered.The day she died, the consort and the scion were pruning in their private garden. She injured herself on a few reckless roses, and when she gasped, the scion saw a flash of vision, in strokes of vivid paint: a fan of dark blue skirts against the harsh black-and-white checkered floor of his mother’s solar, golden sunlight smeared in streaks, and a kiss of crimson splattered at her mouth and in her hair. A spilled cup near her hand, leaking sickly green.It would have been a beautiful painting, had he been allowed to create it.But the scion had learned his lesson well. His boon was a curse and he did not say or do anything.Later, when his mother lay dead on the marble floor, the boy realized this was not a game, not a thrilling secret: it was a matter of life and death. Had he been braver, he might have saved his mother from the poison in that cup.He wailed and clawed at his hair until his aunt, his mother’s sister, gathered him up in her arms. “What happened, little dragon, who did this?”The scion hugged her neck so tightly. “Don’t tell anyone,” he begged. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t save her, I didn’t even try! I’m sorry! Please.”“Hush, hush, it’s all right.”“I didn’t save her,” he whispered, sobbing. “I have to save her.”“It’s too late, little dragon,” his aunt murmured.“No,” he said again and again. He threw himself away from his aunt and ran to his rooms. Found chalk and old cracked paint pots and ripped paper out of books in a tantrum. The scion drew and drew, scrawling images of that eyeless girl. He refused food, he refused his father and his baby brother, he refused everything but paint, and finally he locked the