On a clear moonlit night, high in a castle tower overlooking a crescent-shaped island, Arthur Avalyn threw his son off a balcony to his death.

  As the air rushed around him for what seemed like eternity, and before his body collided with the rocky shore below, one thought filled Rafael Avalyn's mind: the last time he would ever see his sister Morgan was the first time he'd ever seen her terrified.

  But by some strange grace, Raf opened his eyes to witness an angel robed in blinding light, glory incarnate, with dove-like wings and a face of peerless beauty.

  "Get up," the angel ordered in a voice that rang like wind chimes and roared like a great cascade. "Your sister is in danger, and only you can save her."

  Raf coughed the water out of his lungs and tried to remember what happened. His father… then the last thing Raf could remember was falling, and as the rocky waters neared, Raf blacked out. Had he died? Raf sat up, felt his body, and felt very much alive and unharmed.

  Wait! The angel said Morgan was in danger!

  "What do you mean, 'in danger?' and what happened to my father?" he asked.

  "Your father is dead. A fallen known as Azazel killed him. Now it possesses your sister, and if you don't save her, Azazel will consume her soul completely."

  Raf couldn't think. There was a ringing in his ears. What does this mean? What do I do?

  "What do I do?" he pleaded. "How do I stop it?"

  The angel answered, "You will need to learn soul magic to trap the fallen and free your sister. To do that, you must enter Oceania and find the Time Dragon."

  Raf panicked. Oceania? Soul magic? An angel and a dragon? This is crazy. Am I dead? Could this be a dream? He felt tears on his face.

  "Clear your head," the angel commanded. "Go to the caves on the far side of the island."

  Raf picked himself up and tried to do as he was told. Morgan needed him. He had to be strong.

  "Good," said the angel. "I will remain by your side as you cross the island."

  With that, the angel dispersed into a cloud of golden light that encircled and enveloped Raf. He felt something like a warm mist brush across his skin, but otherwise, no different. Raf felt alone and scared, but he knew the angel was near.

  "What should I call you?" he asked.

  At first, the angel didn't respond, and Raf thought he wouldn't get an answer, but finally, the angel said, "You can call me Sophia. Start moving. We have a long way to go."

  But first, he needed to escape the beach. The tide came in at dawn, and the narrow track of sand he ran along would soon flood. If he couldn't find higher ground by then, the undertow would likely sweep him back out into the endless blue.

  To his left was the ocean, creeping closer with every wave, and on his right, a massive tower of stone jutting out of the crashing sands like a beacon to wayward ships. Far above Raf, at the peak of the cliff, was his ancestral home, Castle Moondial, where his father had thrown him to his death and where a monster held his sister captive.

  The moon was full and bright, illuminating the narrow strip of shore Raf ran along. His clothes were soaked. The night winds off the ocean chilled him to the core, and his leg muscles burned in protest, but the tide was coming in, and Raf needed to find a way up and off the beach.

  Raf knew roughly where he was and what he was looking for. The upper outside beach was a popular spot for surfing and sunbathing during certain times of the year. His family had gone years ago, before Lyn was born, back when Raf's mother was still alive.

  He was so young when she died. Raf could only remember brief images, the sound of her voice, certain smells. Raf knew Lyn wasn't to blame for their mother's death, but deep down, he never forgave her.

  I wonder where Lyn is now. With any luck, someplace far away and safe with Rowan. Morgan is the one possessed by a fallen, Raf reminded himself. She's the one I need to worry about.

  Though in truth, Raf had more immediate concerns.

  The sky was getting brighter, and the beach was already flooded. The ocean waves crashed against the cliff wall on his right, bringing the tide up to Raf's knees. Soon, the waves would overtake him, and he'd be swept back out with the undertow. And still, he saw no way up from the beach.

  Had he misremembered coming all those years ago? Or was the beach simply longer than he ever knew?

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  Raf was beginning to worry. He looked up to gauge his progress. The cliff ledge was noticeably shorter than earlier, but something else, too. Metal bars had been drilled into the cliff wall as if to hang some giant painting. They were too high for Raf to reach. If only he had a rope. He continued moving.

  The sun broke over the horizon to his left, setting the sky on fire with orange, red, pink, blue, and white clouds.

  His legs were sore from pushing against the current, and the waves now came up to his waist, so Raf leapt forward and swam, letting his arms and chest do the heavy work. His heart was pounding, and every breath was strained, but there had to be a way up, he told himself, though he was beginning to panic.

  In time a massive wave came in, throwing him sideways against the cliff wall. Raf's skull knocked against stone, and he felt warm blood around his ear. The wave went back out, pulling Raf out with it. He wiggled to stand upright, feet barely reaching the ocean floor. He was out of time. One more big wave like that, and he'd be swept out to face the ocean's mercy.

  He looked up and around for an escape. The metal bars were still too high to reach, and the stone was too smooth and wet to climb. But ahead! The path Raf remembered from long ago. It was barely visible in the distance, but so close!

  Raf launched himself with renewed vigor. His lungs and body ached, and his legs were in agony, yet he swam like his life depended on it.

  But it wasn't enough. Soon another massive wave hit the coast, engulfing Raf, spinning him underwater, tucking him beneath the surface, and pulling him away from land. He held his breath and swam to the surface to see the distance he'd lost. His exit looked even farther than before.

  Raf was beginning to despair. He was so tired. He'd been running and swimming for hours. Morgan is in danger, he reminded himself, and his exit was close enough to see!

  "Hey! Up here!" Raf heard a shout. Someone with shining black hair waved from atop the cliff. "Come closer! I'll throw you a chain!" They yelled.

  Raf tried to swim forward, but his arms were like jelly, so he flipped into a back float and waited for the next big wave. It didn't take long before Raf was carried back toward land on a wave, but this might be his only chance. If he got pulled back out again, it would likely be even farther than last time.

  The wave crashed against the cliff wall, and Raf, along with it, slammed his shoulder. Before he could be swept back out, the person above leapt off the cliff and tossed two chains with both arms. One chain hooked onto a metal pipe in the cliff wall; the other splashed near Raf.

  "Grab the chain! Careful of the edge on that hook! And hold on!" his rescuer yelled, and Raf did as instructed.

  Suddenly, Raf's chain pulled him up so quickly that his grip almost slipped. His rescuer twisted midair and tossed Raf over the ledge of the cliff. He hit the ground and rolled limply, too tired to shield his fall.

  His rescuer's grappling hooks connected with the stone ledge, and soon they leapt up, landing neatly on both feet next to Raf.

  They looked a bit older than Raf, nearly Raf's height, with wild unkempt hair and soft features. Their clothes were yellow seaskin cloth. Raf was still on the ground where he landed. He tried to pick himself up, but his body was spent.

  They knelt, swiftly reaching into a satchel on their thigh, pulling out a water canteen, and offered it to Raf, helping him drink.

  "Thank you for saving me," Raf said when he finally finished drinking.

  "Well, I couldn't leave you out there to drown. Last few months, bodies have washed ashore, all weird, shriveled, but soggy-like. Hard to describe. I feared you was one of those. When I saw you flounder, I thought, 'maybe this time I can make a difference.'" They said all this while helping Raf walk over to sit at the base of a tree.

  Raf recalled the string of recent murders; a mysterious 'Raven' creature kidnapping vagrants in a cloud of smoke, bodies exsanguinated and tossed into the ocean. Was this the person who found them washed ashore?

  "How terrible. I'm sorry you had to witness that," he said.

  They shrugged. "That's life. I'm Hinata."

  "I'm- I'm Ryan," he lied. Rafael Avalyn was supposed to be dead. "You're incredible with those grappling chains. You must be from the cliffs."

  "Born and raised," they answered. "My folks taught me how to swing before I could walk. Tss. You got an open wound on the side of your head. Let me clean that up." Hinata reached back into their satchel and pulled out a basic first aid kit and a musubi.

  "Here, eat this," they offered the musubi.

  Raf was famished. "Thank you."

  It was delicious: rice, cured fish, and vegetables wrapped in seaweed. While he ate, Hinata washed and treated his injury. Their hands were calloused and skillful. When Raf finished eating, they insisted he drink more water. They were so attentive, and Raf felt so safe in their care that before they even finished tending Raf's wound, he fell asleep.

  -8-

  Rafael Avalyn dreamed he was falling. His father watched from above. Raf reached for help, but he was underwater, and Arthur was holding him down. Raf struggled and panicked.

  Why, Dad, why?

  Then Raf breathed in and found himself in a dimly lit hallway he'd never seen before. Blue flame sconces lined the grey marble walls, engraved with detailed images, so many Raf didn't know what to make of them. Signs of a great impending war. With a frightful shock, Raf woke up in the dream. He looked around and somehow knew this was someone else's dream.

  "Come to me," rang a honeyed voice from down the hall.

  At the end was a single door carved with an image of two winged figures mating in a swirl of shadows.

  "Nope," Raf answered, turned, and walked away.

  He was falling again. The jagged rocks came closer and closer, but before Raf hit the ground, he woke up in the dream again, standing on the rocks and facing Sophia. Again, he knew this was no longer his dream.

  Sophia was satisfied. How Raf knew this, he couldn't say because the angel's expression was inscrutable. Even in a dream, Raf struggled to see Sophia in detail, for the angel was so bright it felt like looking directly into the sun. He looked down as a sign of respect and an act of self-preservation.

  "Well fought," said the angel.

  Raf didn't know what that meant, and so he said nothing.

  "The chainfisher has another part to play in this. You will need a grappling chain to reach the underground forest."

  "How do I find this forest?" he asked.

  "Go to the last peak on Crescent, and look for my signal. Go."